A Night At The Opera {Erik} [Casual]

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

Richard had not been to the theatre in quite some time and, strangely, it was only now that he was back in his old job as comptroller that he realized just how much extra time he had on his hands - not that being comptroller wasn't time consuming, but running the city as Mayor was certainly more so.

It was due to this that he made the decision to go to the opera that evening; he had used the theatre in the past to escape his reality and he wanted to do this now, what with Hector Tormei being in power. This in mind, going to see Verdi's 'Otello' was strangely appropriate.

Ordinarily Richard would have offered to bring Anne with him but on this occasion he thought it best to go alone. Continuing to wallow in self pity was not the wisest course of action, but it a well trodden path to Richard in times like this, and considering all that had occurred recently he saw no reason to deviate from it.

And so it was that Richard was seated, by himself, in box five of the theatre, which he had bought for the night, as he waited for the opera to begin.

(ooc: Apologies for the generic title. /Nessiefail)

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

Erik never failed to miss a performance at the Metropolitan.

That is, he never failed. Even if he didn't have a ticket. The management usually never gave him a free ticket if it wasn't one of his operas playing, but that never stopped Erik. It seemed foolish that he should not be allowed to attend all operas when he was the place's main contributent. So he found himself often in his private box, hidden from view so that no one could see him.

The problem that rose, of course, was the fact that people could still buy the box when he wasn't "in attendence."

His solution was: no one wanted to buy it.

Each time someone else occupied his box, he would politely and humorously ask the patrons to step outside of it and allow the ghost to enjoy the opera in peace. He would throw his voice to sit on their shoulder, commenting on how splendid a man's wife looked that night, or the fact that the woman's husband was leaning far too close to her best friend. When a disembodied voice invaded your privacy, you were sure to leave abruptly, and without warning.

He always told the people he scared not to tell the management about the ghost, or he would haunt their dreams for all eternity! There would always be the plucky young few who dared, but Erik always silenced them quickly.

So now he was preparing himself to scare this man away, who had taken up residence in his box without knowing of the ghost legend. Box Five should have been quite infamous as a legend by now, but this man seemed not to take heed.

He'd felt like he'd seen him somewhere before, but he didn't pay attention to faces like that. He was far too jealous of their carefully crafted noses to want to look any more than he had to.

He hid in the corner, behind the drapery and concealing himself snuggly where no one could see.

"Do you know that you're sitting in Box Five? That's the ghost's box."

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

"Do you know that you're sitting in Box Five? That's the ghost's box."

Needless to say Richard gave a start, at first simply due to the fact he had heard a voice where he had not expected to and in the second instance due to the words themselves. Not that he was frightened of ghosts, or believed they existed (because they didn't, no matter what his imagination insisted on telling him) but because it sounded so absurd. The ghost's box?

He got to his feet and turned the better to look at the box itself. No-one was there but him. He must be imagining things, just like he imagined he saw Edward's ghost. With a dismissive shake of his head he sat back down again.

Then, more in order to confirm he was just imagining things and not expecting a response, Richard replied;

"Ghosts don't exist."

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

Erik chuckled darkly at the man's unexpectance. It was easy to say ghosts don't exist, but when confronted with one, you'd really have no clue what to do or say. This was evident on the man's face, and Erik relished in the thought. He quite loved to scare people. It was a past time long forgotten with the media exposing it as hoaxes and clever jibes. A genuine scare was hard to come by, and when you had nothing better to do, it was all the more fun.

"Are you sure?" he said politely, throwing his voice so that it danced around the man's shoulders. "It looks like you might just start believing in them very soon, Monsieur."

He didn't move a muscle. He was good at that... controlling his body. The setting was perfect. All he had to do was force the man out of the box with witty insults and the night would be his. It really was all to easy. Though he still couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen him somewhere before... He seemed like... Someone important.

No matter. No one was that important to him. No one ever would be.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

"Are you sure? It looks like you might just start believing in them very soon, Monsieur."

Although the voice was closer at hand than it had been before (and the fact the voice still remained) Richard was not as surprised as he should have been. Maybe this was his way of cracking under pressure, hearing voices. He already had his brother and his conscience to contends with though, and they were voices enough.

It was also interesting in that the voice was challenging him. It wasn't as though he hadn't faced challenges recently, but since his marriage to Anne their verbal battles had all but ceased. Now, having been challenged by this mysterious voice, he realized how he missed them, in a way.

"You say I might start believing; that doesn't mean to say I will."

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

This one was a fighter, he could tell. One of the less shallow and superficial folk. More of an intellectual and a thinker. He was up for the challenge, but by the time the curtain rose, he would be sitting in that plush velvet seat, and not this man.

"Ghosts have a particularly successful way of persuading people of their existence," he mused. "But I suppose you're too clever for that, aren't you?" He laughed mockingly.

Just a little bit more jeering, and he was sure to leave the box. It didn't take much, though if he had to resort to violence (if only the invisible kind), he would. Just so long as management was undisturbed by it.

He waited for the person's reply, hoping it was witty enough for them to engage in a full on verbal battle. This could prove to be a night worth remembering, the way this was going.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

"Ghosts have a particularly successful way of persuading people of their existence. But I suppose you're too clever for that, aren't you?"

Richard laughed as the 'ghost' did, though not in so mocking a tone. Despite the fact he would much rather be left alone he could not deny that this conversation (if indeed it could be termed as such) was amusing. Particularly since ghosts didn't exist and this was obviously his mind playing tricks on him again.

"I wouldn't say I'm too clever, but I would say that your methods of persuading me of your existence aren't particularly successful."

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

What a cheat, this man was. A good for nothing who didn't know when to go on his way. Erik should have made it perfectly clear from the start that he wasn't in to playing games with him, but he had wanted a bit of good fun. Now tonight's jest was becoming a verbal battle, and he would not be defeated so easily.

He smirked heavily, knowing exactly what to do in this specific event. He opened the secret compartment in the column next to him and slid himself inside in absolute silence. He then slid along the walls passage ways until he was on the other side of the man, still hidden from his site but clearly out in the open. But he was dressed completely in black, so there was no possible way he could see him.

Of course that was his goal, was to get him to see him. He slipped on his mask, a piece of clothing that he didn't usually wear unless to scare people, and that was of course what he was trying to do. Every move he made couldn't have even been heard by a bat. He had trained himself to be this silent, or else this ghost charade would surely have been found out.

Erik flitted over to the other side of the box to the shadows, purposely letting his cape catch the light so that the man could see him. But he was so quick about maneuvaring himself around the space that there was no way he could catch him. Just glimpes would do, to show the man that he did indeed exist, and that he wasn't one to be trifled with.

The entire time he masqueraded around the box, he threw a deep, maniacal laugh at the man, letting it move all around the box to the opposite side of where he was at.

If this didn't scare him, then he might as well just show himself and share the damn box, because he was seeing the Opera, one way or another.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

When at first Richard heard no reply from the voice, he presumed the discourse was over and he could relax once more. However his imagination clearly had other ideas; all of a sudden wild, manic laughter reverberated around the box, on one side then another in quick succession. As if this wasn't enough he could have sworn he saw a mask, disembodied, catching in the light, dissapearing and reappearing once more.

Richard couldn't deny this spooked him a little, but then he was not a man to be afraid of shadows. This was just his imagination playing tricks on him; it had to be. He shook his head incredulously, somehow managing a small smile at the ludicrousness of the situation. Could he not get a while to be alone with his thoughts any more?

"First I hear voices, now I'm seeing things..." he said, with a laugh. "Just when I thought I could have a rest from them too."

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

Erik continued to chuckle wildly, finally finding a spot in the corner where he was sure not to look. "You are not imagining things, Monsieur, I assure you." His voice landed right next to the man's ear.

Since the man hadn't left yet, a clever idea popped into his head. "I propose a bargain. Since you seem to be incapable of leaving this box like I demand, allow us to merely share it for the evening..." His voice became slightly annoyed. "I do not usually share things that are rightfully mine, but perhaps this will cause you to believe that things aren't always as they appear, non?"

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

"You are not imagining things, Monsieur, I assure you."

Richard figured this was the sort of thing an imaginary voice would say, and so made no reply. The fact the voice was so close at hand was somewhat alarming, but it was nothing he couldn't deal with. The laughter had been worse.

"I propose a bargain. Since you seem to be incapable of leaving this box like I demand, allow us to merely share it for the evening..."

Plantagenet momentarily considered whether this wasn't a figment of his imagination, but brushed the idea off despite the fact the disembodied voice was offering to share the box (if the voice was inside his head they were already technically sharing it, surely?) Why on earth would there be someone else in the box at this time? Maybe this was some sort of practical joke...?

"I do not usually share things that are rightfully mine, but perhaps this will cause you to believe that things aren't always as they appear, non?"

Richard himself was living proof that things aren't always what they seem at first glance, and so this comment from the voice, not to mention its request, amused him. He therefore decided to humour it.

"Very well then," he said, not expecting anything to come of it. "We shall share the box."

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

Erik smirked casually. He knew very well the man thought himself mad, and that was fine. Normally he would rather die than share his OWN box, but tonight he seemed more inclined to sit behind the man, perhaps even revealing himself.

Revealing himself? That was wholly out of character for him. He would never show his face, but he did have a mask on. He doubted the man could deduce who he was from his physique alone, and as he was sure he'd never met the man before, it was not a problem. So glided over to the chairs behind the other man's as soon as the person had turned their back to sit down and flung his cloak over one of the chairs without making a sound. He sad neatly in the one next to it, crossing his legs and arms with a bemused gesture.

He almost hoped the man would turn around and catch a good look at the famous ghost of box five. Then he'd know how in danger he really was, if he was not compliant with Erik's requests.

"A fine opera, Othello, though I much prefer the Rossini version. Don't you agree, Monsieur...?" He suddenly thought to ask the man his name. Surely once he heard it, he could place the name with the face he had vaguely recognized. "Monsieur... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

"A fine opera, Othello, though I much prefer the Rossini version. Don't you agree, Monsieur...?"

Despite the fact the disembodied voice had said they could share the box, he did not hear anything else other than it. Therefore, naturally, he assumed as before that the voice was a figment of his imagination and didn't even consider turning around to see if there was another person now in the box with him.

Deciding it was best to continue to humour this strange manifestation of his subconscious, Richard made his reply:

"I'm afraid I have yet to see the Rossini version. Perhaps I shall in time and then will be able to make a judgement as to which version I prefer."

"Monsieur... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

Richard laughed again as he had done before. A voice in his own head asking who he was? Then again, he reasoned, it was a valid question, considering the various masks he donned and parts he played according to the situation. A valid query indeed.

"Richard Plantagenet," he replied without theatrics.

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

"I'm afraid I have yet to see the Rossini version. Perhaps I shall in time and then will be able to make a judgement as to which version I prefer."

Erik scoffed. "It's a shame. Most people haven't seen it. Verdi's version is wildly more popular, though not rightfully so..." His eyes narrowed. It was so like most people at the opera house at that very moment. Most of them hadn't seen an opera in their life, and if they had, they surely wouldn't have spent their whole lives studying them as he did. Opera was his passion, and his only regret in life was that he hadn't been born in a time when the craft was more appreciated.

When the man said his name, however, his attentions were focused soley on him. "Ah...! So there is the name to the face." He immediately recognized the name, as he'd always read about it in the papers constantly. Erik smirked devilishly, leaning his head on his knuckles, his elbow propped on the armrest.

"I'm sure you've had to deal with plenty of ghosts before... Monsieur Mayor. Oh! I'm terribly sorry. I'd forgotten! You lost the elections!"

He chuckled maniacally, a wide smirk appearing on his face.

What a delight, this was. What a delight.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

As the mysterious voice scoffed in response to Richard's talk of the opera, the man himself attempted to ignore it, with great difficulty. How was it that he'd come here as an escape, yet even in his own head he found himself trapped?

"Ah...! So there is the name to the face. I'm sure you've had to deal with plenty of ghosts before... Monsieur Mayor. Oh! I'm terribly sorry. I'd forgotten! You lost the elections!"

Richard started, not at the laughter but due to what the voice had said before. I'm sure you've had to deal with plenty of ghosts before...what did he mean by that? What was he implying? He then inwardly shook his head - this voice was nothing but his imagination, of course it knew all he had done, the crimes he'd committed. Why was he afraid of a voice in his own head?

As for its mirth at him having lost the elections, this was something Richard wasn't prepared to deal with at present. He scowled but did not turn round, speaking to the air around him as he had done before.

"Yes, yes, it's very amusing, isn't it?" he said, voice heavy with sarcasm.