A Night At The Opera {Erik} [Casual]

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

"Yes, yes, it's very amusing, isn't it?"

Erik grinned devilishly. Yes, yes it was very amusing. He was thouroughly enjoying himself at that particular moment, and proceeded to relax in his chair behind the former Mayor. Oh, the fun he would have tonight. No doubt the man still thought him a voice in his head, perhaps brought on by the memories of his dead brother (whose death Erik had read about in the papers), or perhaps other ghosts that lurked in the man's past. For surely one so troubled as he was haunted by skeletons in his closet.

He laced his fingers together, staring at the man's grayed head. "I suppose you think me an figment of your imagination, non good sir?" He smirked. "Perhaps seeing this opera will put your perspective into a more... appropriate light?"

And by that he meant of course the man would not be leaving this box without truly believing in "ghosts."

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

"I suppose you think me an figment of your imagination, non good sir?"

"I believe I have already implied as such," Richard replied, his irritation still clear in his tone. Of course this was a voice in his head; what else would it be? He had bought the box for the evening, so logically he was the only one in it.

"Perhaps seeing this opera will put your perspective into a more... appropriate light?"

"If by that you mean by the end of the evening I will find myself believing in the existence of ghosts, I very much doubt it."

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

This man thouroughly irritated him. It wasn't like him to humour people, and here he was, humouring someone. It was ridiculous, and he did not like the feeling. It was entirely distasteful.

Thankfully, the opera began, and he slunk into a sort of stupor, remainging quiet for a good 45 minutes or so. He couldn't see very well, however, and that bothered him greatly. But was seeing an opera he'd already seen countless other times (and memorized) worth risking showing himself to this man?

Maybe. Operas were spectacular, one of his only joys in life. Perhaps he would still think him a ghost, though he doubted it. It would be nice to prove to the man he wasn't a figure of his imagination. He always liked to prove himself to people, even if they didn't want to listen to him. Perhaps it came from always requesting his mother's approval when he was younger, or just from the need for acceptance into society.

No matter. He'd decided he would move up and sit next to the gentleman. He cleared his throat casually, no doubt knowing exactly what had gone through the man's mind. Thank god, the voices have finally stopped! Haha! How wrong he was.

"Monsieur Plantagenet, I must confess, my view from this point in the box is highly obstructed. As you are obviously in my normal seat, perhaps you would be so kind as to allow me to sit next to you, so that we may both enjoy the opera as it should be."

There was a hint of malice in his tone, no matter how polite his word choice was. It was clearly a threat, and he would go through with it if the need arose.

But oh, what fun it was to tease him!

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

At long last the opera began, and Richard attempted to relax his frame of mind and enjoy the show as he had originally intended. However, the fact the opera was appropriate to his current situation (in his eyes) hindered, rather than helped, in his escapism.

The strange voice had dissapeared, it seemed, but the anticipation of its return was something else keeping Richard on edge as the show went on. Therefore, when the voice spoke up again, it was almost a relief.

"Monsieur Plantagenet, I must confess, my view from this point in the box is highly obstructed. As you are obviously in my normal seat, perhaps you would be so kind as to allow me to sit next to you, so that we may both enjoy the opera as it should be."

I say almost. Richard wasn't exactly pleased he was hearing voices, and the fact he had no idea where this voice came from (in that it wasn't Edward or his conscience) didn't help. The slight hint of malice used by the voice did not go un-noticed by Richard, but it didn't worry him a great deal. All the voices in his head were malicious.

"Good God!" he snapped, his irritation making itself clear in his tone as he turned around in his seat, to see where the voice was coming from. "You're just a-"

He stopped. There was someone sitting there. A man, wearing a full black mask that obscured his face. The words 'figment of my imagination' died before they were said and instead Richard simply stared, for once in his life at a loss for words.

Was this proof that ghosts existed? And did this mean he was mad or sane?

[JEAN-PAUL DUBOIS]

A very large grin stretched over Erik's face, though the mask obstructed the other man's view. He added a very soft, but menacing chuckle, and gestured to the man in a very gentleman-like, but frightening way. "Good evening, monsieur. I trust my suspicions are correct? I must admit, I've yet to officially introduce myself, and I loath informal introductions."

The man stood up gaily, and bowed with grandoise movement. "I am what they call the 'legendary Opera Ghost of Box Five.' It is a rather long title, so if you prefer the shortened Opera Ghost or the ever popular Phantom of the Opera, please, feel free to use either."

He was totally polite, and yet completely sarcastic. He was tempted to take of his mask and scare the man, but something about him made him keep it on. He wanted to see how far he could take the man, that is, if he didn't run out of the box screaming now that he'd seen him.

He somehow doubted he would.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

"Good evening, monsieur. I trust my suspicions are correct? I must admit, I've yet to officially introduce myself, and I loath informal introductions."

Richard nodded dumbly, not quite sure if saying something at this point would be a wise option, considering how his surprise (and fear, he couldn't deny that now) would colour his words.

The ghost (for that was what Richard now assumed he was) bowed in a very theatrical manner; this too surprised the former mayor as the mysterious figure had before seemed so eager to stay in the shadows.

"I am what they call the 'legendary Opera Ghost of Box Five.' It is a rather long title, so if you prefer the shortened Opera Ghost or the ever popular Phantom of the Opera, please, feel free to use either."

Richard nodded again, before making a reply in barely more than a whisper. He was, he hated to admit, slightly afraid, considering the evident reality of this ghost - but now the figure had revealed itself he wasn't about to leave.

"R-right..." he said. "Phantom of the Opera. I see."