//It’s been a minute but it’s near Halloween so I often think about how I miss my horror muses about this time. Anyone still here who would be interested in me rebooting Erik?

titsay

#extradirty

Janaina Medeiros

JBB: An Artblog!
One Nice Bug Per Day

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oozey mess

⁂

Kiana Khansmith
YOU ARE THE REASON
Claire Keane
Cosmic Funnies

shark vs the universe
sheepfilms
RMH

Origami Around
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Cosimo Galluzzi
dirt enthusiast
will byers stan first human second
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@itisacorpsewholovesyou
//It’s been a minute but it’s near Halloween so I often think about how I miss my horror muses about this time. Anyone still here who would be interested in me rebooting Erik?
introducing THE INDIE ROLEPLAYERS MUSICIAN NETWORK
WHAT: a NETWORK to gather all the muses, in the indie roleplay community, who have a connection to the world of MUSIC. this includes MUSICIANS (of all genres), PRODUCERS, TEACHERS, PERSONIFICATIONS of music & genres, etc!
WHY: the music industry is one that’s developed by COLLABORATION & TEAM WORK, so why not do the same in the indie rp community, & try to create a network for muses to create BANDS, WORK PARTNERSHIPS, even just simple plots set in the world of music?
WHO: any INDEPENDENT muse (no matter if canon or oc as long as you’re not group-exclusive) with a CLEAR connection to the world of music. YOU CAN JOIN even if your muse is only connected to the world of music through an au or subverse!
HOW: if you’d like to be a part of the network, just REBLOG this post adding the following information to the tags: 1 - NAME of your muse /s, 2 - CANON or OC (if canon, please specify the fandom), 3 - JOB / INSTRUMENT played (ex. guitarist or producer or classical music teacher etc). if you’re a multimuse blog, please do this for each of the muses you’d like to be added!!!
YOU CAN FIND THE LIST HERE!!
I made this a year ago to introduce some classic phantom adaptions.
It’s still fun to think about Christine surrouding by phantoms. All of them are adorable and precious.
Reblog if you roleplay Phantom of the Opera
//So literally five people have said they wanted to RP with me so please let me know if you still care even a little about this blog because I’ll be deleting a bunch of followers and trying to start fresh
It was a practiced routine by now, each act the product of hours of rehearsal. The lights would dim and he’d appear from behind a well-placed homemade smoke bomb. He’d begin with ventriloquism, trading jokes with a thousand different voices from uncertain distances or perhaps a dummy. Then would come the music, first from a little flute drawn from a hidden pocket in the lining of his coat which gave the appearance of conjuring it from the air itself. The clapping of the audience would drown out the pulley mechanism that would lower his violin from the ceiling upon paper-thin wires, simulating levitation. He’d always begin this portion of his act with Mozart, perhaps something from the Marriage of Figaro and would play for as long as his body would allow. Concertos and caprices became slip jigs and reels late into the night.
Then, when he had all but tired, he’d let the violin fly into the air again, giving a deep bow as gratefully as he could manage, making sure to let the mask slip from his face just long enough to allow the audience a glimpse of the monster beneath. Another smoke bomb amidst the gasps of the audience and he was gone. It was with rare occasion that anyone--performer or audience member--bothered to find him after shows and he didn’t much mind. It was one thing to be gaped at during a conscious display of performance, but quite another when he wasn’t expecting it. Thus, he tensed instinctively at the sound of a knocking at his trailer door. He adjusted his mask with apprehension as he approached the door, opening it just a crack to get a glimpse of the person outside.
“Yes?”
beloved-soong:
“Perhaps that would be wise, as it will be rather dark in the theater.”
He offered her a hand, squinting slightly at her mannerisms. How very strange--there was something about them that seemed almost mechanical. Perhaps it was the product of some medical condition or other. He could only hope her family did not judge her for it, knowing far too well the effects of such trauma, “you aren’t here all by yourself are you?” he asked, “young people so rarely come to the opera without older relatives.”
mydeardoctorbashir:
“How kind of you, sir! I like the mask, by the way.”
“And you, in turn, are very kind,” he replied, offering a hand to the man, “I would imagine that nearly every sentient being has secrets, little traces of the self that demand to be kept hidden. Mine simply happens to be a little more obvious than others. Aren’t all our lives some great masquerade? Why not dress the part?”
“a man who’s trying to love her unlike any other”
Erik is to his Mask as Others are to their Glasses
Sometimes he freaks out because he can’t find it, only to realize it’s on his face.
He’s so used to wearing it that he doesn’t realize its still on when he bathes until a river of water is falling in front of his eyes.
He wakes up in the morning confused because what he can see from his periphery without obstruction what is this madness.
He goes to adjust it constantly only to realize he isn’t wearing it.
He has a case for it, but what’s the point of a bulky case when you have a perfectly good bedside table?
When in a pinch, he cleans it with his shirt.
God forbid it breaks because “sweet Jesus there goes my one constant, comforting necessity how will I ever live through the two days it takes to get another one”
Things I want in Universal’s Phantom reboot: • the Persian • the scene where Erik watches Raoul sleep and Raoul fucking shoots him
-the scene where Erik comes back from shopping after leaving Christine alone locked in a house underground for a solid day and tries to give her flowers and she just slams the door in his face
Carlotta being a good singer
actually good/unique compositions for the Phantom’s music.
La Sorelli and Carlotta being different people
Meg actually looking like Meg (she’s dark olive, so there’s a high likelihood that she’s not white)
BLONDE. CHRISTINE. PLEASE. The Christine Wig™ is iconic and all but all the big adaptations have made her brunette
it doesn’t have to be shown (considering it’s gonna be PG13 most likely, I wouldn’t WANT it shown) but a reference to Christine’s suicide attemps would be important.
Actually it would be neat if she had a Swedish accent too
ERIK IS ACTUALLY REALLY HORRIBLY UGLY
Raoul to have…some…agency….pls…
The casting has to have Raoul as your typical kind of pretty, but the Persian has to be the one that walks on screen and makes you go “OH.”
start the movie with “The Opera Ghost really existed.” and end it with “It is no ordinary skeleton.”
Mercier Gabriel and Remy
that scene that has Madame Giry whoop the Managers’ asses
have at least one (1) Christina Nilsson cameo, somewhere, IDFC HOW THEY’RE GONNA FIT THAT IN THERE, BUT I WANT IT
PHILIPPE
THE SAFETY PIN SCENE
book-accurate torture chamber scene cause that would be aWESOME (also, have the Daroga and Raoul LICK THE MIRROR (this was in the book, I shit you not))
have Christine be the absolute badass that she is
ACTUAL POC DAROGA COME ON PEOPLE IT’S BEEN 84 YEARS (MORE LIKE 108 BUT COME ON)
Erik’s other disguise AKA the Groucho glasses
have Christine and the Daroga really get along
Polyglot!Erik, please, I need Polyglot!Erik
oh and, last but not least
NOT TURN ERIK INTO A LITERAL GHOST PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHY IS THIS WORLD SO CRUEL
ALL OF THIS YES.
•ERIK KICKING HIS LEGS WHEN HE’S TALKING ABOUT THINGS
•THE FRICKIN SCENE WHERE ERIK ALMOST DROWNS DAROGA. PLEASE
•RAOUL TRYING TO SHOOT THE CAT
Your heart will become a dusty piano in the basement of a church and she will play you when no one is looking. Now you understand why it’s called an organ.
Rudy Francisco, “Like Every Other Man” (via thequotejournals)
@poubelle-de-rue
“If you’re going to take refuge from the storm beneath the arches, you might as well come inside,” he reached out a gloved hand to the young man, “you needn’t worry about trespassing. I work for the Paris Opera.”
lightinmismatchedeyes:
People in the waiting room uncomfortably looked away, none offering consolation to the man. It was an awkward atmosphere. It was difficult to offer a seemingly grown man comfort and the only thing the people could do was look at him sadly or pitifully.
One of the nurses noticed. Tori’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the crying man, but she immediately became worried the moment the clipboard clattered on the ground. She excused herself from the patient and quickly ran to the man, mismatched hues gazing at him with worry. “Sir? S-Sir, are you alright? Does something hurt,” she gently inquired as she knelt down, looking up at him. She looked at one of the other nurses and mouthed the word “water” before looking back at Erik.
“Sir, it’s alright. E-Everything’s okay. We’re getting you some water, okay? My name is Tori, and I’m going to help you okay?” She picked up the clipboard and set it in the empty chair next to him.
“Alright?” Erik raised his head slowly, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Without a mask, it was as though he had been stripped bare, his accursed ugliness laid out on a platter for all to see. The urge to leave his arm at his face so as not to reveal what lay beneath was a strong one, but, for the first time since discovering the truth of his identity, Erik’s rational mind won out. This was a hospital and the woman that tended to him was a nurse. Surely, she’d been trained such that his face would not terrify her. After all, if his doctors at the sanatorium could manage to look at him, a modern-world nurse wouldn’t be dissuaded...or so he hoped.
Slowly, Erik removed his arm and raised his eyes to face her, “I--I suppose so,” he stammered, his heart still pounding at his throat, “I’m in no more pain than usual but...” he paused, wondering how best to explain that in a world long passed, he’d inhabited all that was terrible and cruel, as ugly in spirit as he thought himself in body? Why, by the standards of this age, he’d be considered nothing short of a serial killer. The thought sent a chill down his spine. How was it possible? How could he have placed so little value on human life?
The answer glared at him from the floor, the clipboard stained with his tears reflecting his every imperfection back at him. His self-loathing could not be contained to a single body. No, all of humankind would not be enough to alleviate his wrath. It seemed that death was all he was, all he’d ever be...He just barely managed to stop himself from tearing the drawstring from his sweatshirt and fashioning a noose from it. There was no need. There was good in the world, good like this earnest young nurse. She would help him, he told himself, he just had to trust her.
“After the curse broke, I remembered a great deal of upsetting things at once. Even now, the memories are difficult to process. Were you Tori then too, or is that simply the name you were given during the curse? I-I hadn’t a name where I came from. My mother was sure I’d die before my first birthday and never saw fit to give me one. Here, I’m Erik. Just Erik. If I had a last name, I cannot remember it. Before the curse was broken, I thought perhaps I was a veteran, my face embedded with shrapnel and memories taken from me by the trauma of war...but I know now that the truth is far more sinister.”
{{ Please reblog this if you’re a mun who’s open for angst plotting. Death, pain, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, illness, misery, fighting, screaming, tears, hate, disgust, trauma, graphic gore, etc; I’m in need of threads. Thank you. }}
“Intermission will be ending soon. I could show you back to your seat if you so desire.”