LE MORT VIVANT

[whiitehxt]

made a red aesthetic / personal blog here! feel free to follow me.

[redbonesaw]

where to find lora!

( not in a specific order )

davy jones roleplay blog

erik roleplay blog

medic roleplay blog

white hat roleplay blog

[whiitehxt]

lewis roleplay blog

[viibrato-blog]

behindaccents‌:

                    The distant memory of that FINAL night at the opera house still haunted Christine to this day. The screams echoing in the back of her mind, the flames flickering and the look of pure heart ache which had flooded HIS features. Christine couldn’t be the one to remain with him yet she would have. It was something she would have done if it meant her true love managed to survive it all. A sacrifice such as that had seemed worthy at the time and yet she had been allowed to leave. The other MAN allowing it once he saw how untrue their bond would become. Still, it was all extremely heart breaking and something she wanted to put to rest. Once and for all. 

This reason alone was what brought Christine back to the opera house. Her heart racing as she wandered through the burnt rubble, each step sending a warning feeling through her body. She shouldn’t be there, she knew that but there was just something that needed to be done. Something that would help her say goodbye to this part of her life — at least she hoped it would. 

Another step through the rubble and she finally convinced herself that it was all a terrible idea. “This is madness, I need to —” turning to make her way back, Christine paused at the sound of some mechanism beneath her. It all happened too quickly and before she knew anything, Christine found herself falling through what seemed to be a trap door. She screamed, as loud as possible but the door above closed again and she was soon left in complete darkness. Her leg throbbing with pain and a new sense of fear washing over her. This really had been a terrible idea. 

|| SEMI PLOTTED STARTER ( Christine Daae ) || @viibrato

  HE HAD COME back; the ghost had come back to its haunting place! What was the point of such a thing, one would surely ask him? It was absurd! And truth be told, he had no idea why he'd come -- but there were things still precious to him underneath the cellars of the Opera Populaire, and he found he simply had to get them back. A noise however soon alerted him of a careless intruder! Who dared head into the remains of a recently burned out building, and so late at night, too? The scream should have been a tell-tale sign, but Erik was far too angry to consider the possibility of her return. Instead, he gathered his trusty lasso and headed towards where he knew the trap was, still functioning.   The darkness swallowed him hole, and yet he found it most comforting and warm. He was as silent as a cat as he walked, which allowed him to hear any noise his victim might have possibly made. A woman! She was also alone by the looks of it, and once he opened a secret wooden door to the room that kept her safe from him, his lasso found itself being wound around her neck next -- though not tight enough to hurt her at all. She had a right to speak for herself, after all. “Why are you here? Answer me.” Commanding and thunderous his voice echoed all around them firmly.   Her scent was strangely familiar, as was the color of her hair in the darkness, and soon he felt his heart squeeze with both apparent pain and shock at the realization. Silence; deafening silence hung around them for what seemed like hours, and his slightly trembling and surprised golden voice spoke next, “Christine?”

[alvadee]

A scribble to let out my feelings after seeing PotO live again. I always loved that shared moment during the masquerade in the 2004 movie, so here’s a stage version redo.

[jennyfair7]

Love this.

[viibrato-blog]

heartlosttravelers·:

Her angel was happy, she could hear it in his voice. Oh, how PROUD she felt knowing that her news made her maestro happy. She smiled as if she were a child again, and her father had been playing music to her. Oh, how important this was to her. She looked back at the music in her hand, remembering how excited she was to be handed the pieces of art along with her script. 

A blush grew on the Swedes cheeks as she shook her head. “Oh, no, Maestro, talent has nothing to do with it. Your teachings are what got me the part, I am sure of it!” She smiled. She never would’ve believed this dream could come true. “It is thanks to you. My father sending you, all you’ve taught me, and will teach… My improvement because of you is what got me this part.” She shook her head. Talent is not what got her here.

Christine nodded her head. “Yes, yes, we must!” She stood up straight feeling their lesson was soon to start, late is better than never. “Yes, I am ready for today’s lesson. I have the pieces from Faust that I am expected to learn. I’ve read through the script, and that acting shouldn’t be hard, but there a few notes in the music that are a little lower than I usually sing…” She trailed off a moment. “I know my range is GREATER than it has been, but I feel I might need to farther my range a bit more, the part though often sung by a soprano, such as myself, does hit quite a few alto notes….”

  FLATTERY WOULD GET her nowhere, he knew, but was deeply appreciated nonetheless. His efforts were hers also, not only his! She was too humble to accept such compliments and in turn he slightly shook his head at her. She was a singer! She should learn to take compliments from people, for it would happen way too often now. That thought made some jealously bubble up to the surface, but he soon pushed it down without too much vehemence.   Her flattering comments were met with silence from his part, and it was only when she spoke of her vocal range that he finally talked once more. “We shall work on that today. But first, let's warm up your voice and do some scales -- I will not hear of you straining it without such.” Christine's voice was a precious instrument, one Erik himself valued deeply, no matter how excited to practice she may be.   They could surely practice for a while today, yes, for he still had time to spare, but soon, he should be gone; there were important things he had to take care of now that her role had been somewhat secured.

[viibrato-blog]

chorussung‌:

@viibrato is getting a starter for no reason

christine knew what she had gotten herself into. after a calming and refreshing walk around the park with erik, she had known that was enough to make the night already enchanting. but it was snowing in paris! and she could not resist the temptation of getting into a slight amount of mischief… and so she had thrown a carefully made snowball at the mans back. it was not the wisest decisions, for he had larger hands to hold more snow— as well as very fast reflexes… she hardly stood a chance. and this was confirmed as soon as a cold sphere hit her directly in the center of her chest.

with a loud, and overly exaggerated “ oof! ” she falls into the snow. attempting to be as dramatic as her body would allow. Her arm gracefully draping over her face as though she were in immense amounts of pain. and she might as well be! for snow is cold, and some few clumps of the ice might have fallen into her corset.

“ you have hit me! oh, I’m afraid it is the end for me, mon ange!— for the light is already growing… the cold is spreading through and entering my heart! oh- oh I’m going!—” she reaches upwards, as though trying to grasp the hand of an imaginary spirit had come to take her into the afterlife.

“ farewell, my dear, erik……. ”

  WHATEVER HAD TAKEN over him to react in such a way at first he couldn't tell, but for a split of a second, he was concerned! Had he hurt her? But it's then that he realizes this to be only a mere jest, and soon enough his body visibly relaxes, and he simply frowns at her. “Christine. Please.” She is making a scene! And that is the last thing he really wants, after all. “I couldn't have hit you that hard.” What is she up to now, he wonders? Nevertheless he finds her to be somewhat amusing, and therefore his thin lips seem to twitch on their own accord.   Oh Lord have mercy on him at this! She is irresistible -- the epitome of both innocence and beauty; he cannot help the way his heart skips a beat even then! Her happiness means the whole world to him, and by seeing her being so playful with him, it sure fills him with inexplicable amounts of joy. What would he do without her now that he'd had a taste of heaven? These kind of mundane activities are precisely what make him feel like a normal person for once, and he deeply thanks her for it all.

[heartstringed-deactivated201705]

[viibrato-blog]

chorussung·:

“ yes. I will. I am no fool, erik. I know perfectly well of what taking care of a pet entails. ” the conversation was making christine feel frustrated. did he really not care? was he truly so selfish that he wouldn’t take in a sick animal?— no, no he couldn’t be… not her angel. he was many things, yes, but she had seen him with ayesha. he was always so gentle, and caring… it was preposterous to think such a thing.

“ besides… fresh air would be good for the both of us. ”

  WAS SHE IMPLYING what he thought she was implying? Oh, may a deity -- if there was one -- help him! “I'm not going outside, Christine.” He couldn't; he wouldn't. It was far too much to ask of him, he knew, and that was definitely a matter which she shouldn't push. May he have the strength to deal with such preposterous ideas! Taking care of a new pet was one thing, but what this entailed... No. Just no. A dramatic sigh; a roll of his golden eyes. He turns around. “... Fine. Fine. We may keep it, as long as you promise to care for it.” He could never say no however, to a poor animal in need.

[viibrato-blog]

murroyilodel·:

GOOD  PROPRIETORS  PAY  ATTENTION  TO  ASSORTMENT  OF  CUSTOMERS,  as  consideration  to  detail  extends  beyond  flowers.  As  he  shrewdly  surmises,  oblivious  spirit  overlooks  his  reaction  behind  his  mask.  Expressionless  mask,  rigid  armour,  that  which  allows  him  to  see  everyone,  but  prevents  everyone  from  seeing  him.  Apart  from  sliver  of  a  mouth,  only  eyes  of  gold  glint  through,  yet  so  deep-set  they  are  they  seem  to  disappear  more  than  reveal  themselves.  Elegant  figure  he  may  cut  in  immaculate  suit,  but  it  is  that  mask  that  elevates  him  to  being  an  enigma.  (Where  lies  his  true  visage?)

Of  course,  she  finds  it  strange  that  he  wears  a  mask  all  the  time,  and  natural  curiosity  prompts  her  to  wonder  about  his  story.  But  she  has  learnt  not  to  breach  another’s  privacy  unless  the  other  is  willing  to  share.  What  matter  are  the  superior  care  he  gives  his  flowers  and  the  gracious  service  he  provides  regulars  and  casual  visitors  alike,  is  that  not  so?  Receiving  her  bouquet  in  delight,  she  places  the  money  she  has  already  prepared  on  the  counter.

          “Coffee  is  my  default,”  she  confesses.           “Two  coffees  in  the  future  then.  I  will           return  next  Monday.  It’s  a  busy  week           of  rehearsals  and  your  daisies  always           cheer  me  on.”

  A WHITE PORCELAIN mask effectively shields him from the outside world ( thank Gods! ), and he inwardly thanks her for her intention not to pry, however curious she may be about such an unusual thing. It isn't every day he finds one person to be polite enough not to mention it -- Though it also genuinely irritates him, because he knows the question to lie there nonetheless, right underneath the surface in spite of it all, clawing at her insistively and bothersomely so. He hands her the bouquet of daisies with a little smile though; takes the offered money and puts it away before taking hold of his plastic cup.   “Rehearsals?” he merely asks in a gentle tone of voice, raising the cup to his lips in order to take a much needed sip ( he hasn't been sleeping properly! Again! ). He hopes she'll elaborate at that, for he's found his curiosity to be peeked at this.   A slight bow of his head is given in thanks. “I'm glad to hear it, miss.” His flowers hold a dear place in his heart at this point -- he finds them both inexplicably pure and beautiful, something his soul seems to passionately crave for every day. He only wishes to spread his love for them all through his job, and hope they are well taken care of and appreciated wherever it is they may head to.

[viibrato-blog]

​❝ i could hear screams … ❞

sentence starters

  SHE SEEMS CONCERNED; too much so, in fact. All he could do at least was offer some kind of comfort, he reckoned. Erik sighs, for this is admittedly no strong suit of his. “I assure you, it is nothing to worry about. For once, whatever it is, was not my doing, I can tell you that.” He hadn’t done anything wrong -- not lately anyway, and he certainly hoped she’ll understand and see things for what they are.

[soracities]

Marjane Satrapi, Persepolis

[octoberbrunette]

[viibrato-blog]

@fillescharmxnt cont

  “I THINK IT is safe to say that once isn’t nearly enough to properly give a man real nightmares.” Such a thing was not enough to properly scare a man, and he was, after all, someone who particularly knew how bad nightmares could possibly be. Granted he was not intimidated, not in the slightest; not by her, and not by her own mother, though he certainly respected the latter more. A misbehaving cat was he not, but it was close enough of a definition, for he found all of this to be most amusing to say the least. The opera was his playground, and he could ( both literally and metaphorically! ) knock things over if he wished so without much repercussion or any consequences.

[viibrato-blog]

heartlosttravelers‌:

Christine smiled lightly at the sound of her maestro’s voice. Oh, how JOYOUS it was knowing her Angel did not leave her for being late. She felt a weight lift from her shoulders as the voice spoke her name. She did not turn him away! He was still here. Though she was happy, she still felt so guilty, she probably wasted the Angel’s time with how long he must have waited for her. “I am so sorry that you had to wait.” She looked down at the floor, GUILT would not leave her side anytime soon. She nodded her head at the voices words. “No, no it won’t happen again. I never meant to keep you waiting. I do not want to waste your time maestro.”

She nodded her head yet again. “Yes, I will be sure to warn you if I visit her before a lesson, Mama knows how much these lessons mean… We would both feel so guilty if this were to happen again.” Christine trailed off for a moment until she looked down at the music sheets in her hand.

Excitement rose in Christine, she smiled again. “Oh, I wanted to tell you earlier, but my Mama…” She shook her head trailing off again as the voice was all caught up on that information. “Thanks to you Angel, I am no longer just a chorus girl.” She straightened her back and shoulders. The Swede put on a large grin. “I am making my debut as Siébel in our production of Faust!”

  STAY STILL, OH you treacherous and poor heart! Was he hearing things right? What delightful news these were! He was happy for her, and in turn, his gentle smile could be heard in his voice as he spoke next. “Thank you,” he said politely, answering her previous concerns regarding her being late. It was no problem really -- That is -- as long as she gave him a heads up beforehand next time, it would be all fine.   “That is wonderful news, Christine. I knew they'd recognise your talent soon enough.” If they didn't they'd be fools! Fools who had no right to be in charge of such a magnificent building and all it possibly entailed! But alas, his requests had been answered, and he couldn't be any more proud of her than he was right then. She deserved it, after all.   “We need to start practising right away, my dear,” he added, his melodic voice more than steady right then. A pause; he straightened up, even though she could not possibly see this apparent change in his demeanour. “Are you ready for today's lessons?” Did she have the script yet? There were many things they had to work on, if that was the case.

[chorussung]

ANGEL OF MUSIC , HIDE NO LONGER ! COME TO ME , STRANGE ANGEL !

[viibrato-blog]

chorussung‌:

her smile faltered at his words, despite his calming tone. it contorting into a frown, her brows furrowing as she brings the animal closer to her body. “ but– but it was starving! we cant just let it freeze to death–” she takes a few steps forward, taking notice of his nerves, but setting her sympathy aside for only a moment. she had to make her argument clear.

“You and I both know that you cannot turn your head away from this poor creature, no matter how much you pretend. I am keeping it, erik, and even if I have to hide it from you I will. And you shall not stop me.”

  OH, HOW WELL she knows him -- it is unexpected, though not entirely unwelcome. It both unnerves him and comforts him at the very same time, and he finds he can't help but stare at her with disbelief. The animal had been starving and freezing? The poor thing! Didn't it have an owner after all? How strange; the dog seemed to be well taken cared of. Erik's heart squeezes in pain -- His brows furrow even further underneath his mask.   “Pretend? I am not pretending.” Stubborn! The both of them! “I am simply being logical. Will you care for it, then? I can't possibly take it out on walks, and I'm not letting it do its things in here.” He manages to keep his lair clean enough in spite of it all, and a dog would only bring forth a whole lot of problems. What about the hair it would let out? It would certainly be a bit of a mess in due time. The pup needed a proper home, and he wasn't sure his could possibly count as such.

[coulsart]

Offended