6 × Text

[asoutcastshear]

[Erik woke that morning and ran a hand over his face. He was happy to discover that it was masculine, because his adventures as a woman were not funny. At all. Still, there was a problem. He ran a hand across his face and were there was once uneven and horribly scarred skin, it was...smooth. Had...had he been healed?

He leaped from the bed, nearly tripping since his legs were tangled in the sheets, so he could see himself in the mirror. But when he looks, the face looking back is not his own.

He stands there, for a solid hour, staring at Raoul's reflection. The comm clicks on finally. Text all the way bb.]

I tire of the Captain's tricks.


((OOC: I'll be responding with phantomvicomte))

Comments

[sodeepitsreal.livejournal.com]

[Raoul had a similar reaction upon waking. His first concern was getting rid of those dresses discreetly, though it quickly shifted when he caught his reflection out of the corner of his eye. Naturally, he had a bit of a fit, but after he calmed, Raoul began to consider the possibilities.

Keywords, Erik. Keywords.]

[phantomvicomte.livejournal.com]

[Do your worst, Vicomte. He will have something waiting for you when this is over. >3]

[sodeepitsreal.livejournal.com]

[Hey.

Hey Erik.

*CRUNCH*

Say, didn't that sound like a sweaty piece of porcelain? You know, it kind of did. Sweaty pieces of porcelain that you love. Oh my.]

1/idek

[phantomvicomte.livejournal.com]

...

2/Spam

[phantomvicomte.livejournal.com]

...

[He knows that UserId. And if he's in Erik's body, then that must mean he has...no.]

3/Spam

[phantomvicomte.livejournal.com]

[...Erik opens his mouth to speak. The words audibly die in his throat.]

4/Spam

[phantomvicomte.livejournal.com]

What...

5/6

[phantomvicomte.livejournal.com]

[He had thought of smashing that mask himself. But...he couldn't bring himself to do it. And now, now that's it's gone. Really and truly gone? Erik has settled on the emotion that is the most profound. Rage.]

DONE GOD

[phantomvicomte.livejournal.com]

What have you done.

[That's not even a question. A tiny piece of what's left of Erik's mangled soul has shattered too.]

:3c~

[sodeepitsreal.livejournal.com]

Done? What are you talking about?

[...wait, he missed a bit. Have another, smaller crunch.]

You monster

[phantomvicomte.livejournal.com]

Stop.

if it's any consolation, I really do feel terrible :T

[sodeepitsreal.livejournal.com]

[It's unbelievable how satisfying it is to finally find something that gets the Phantom riled up, and maybe even hurt. How could he stop there? He gets something heavy and starts crushing and grinding the smaller pieces to dust over the comms.

Raoul almost wishes he could see Erik's face, but he'd also have to deal with an enraged Opera Ghost, so his voice will have to do.]

Don't. He needed this.

[phantomvicomte.livejournal.com]

Stop it. Now.

:c /hugs Erik

[sodeepitsreal.livejournal.com]

[He'd keep going if he could, but the pieces will only get so small. Ah well, the damage is done.]

Should I leave these at your door, or shall I just throw them overboard?

/also hugs Erik

[phantomvicomte.livejournal.com]

[He'll throw YOU overboard.]

Do what you will. It does not matter to me.

[It does. Can you hear the LIES?]

[sodeepitsreal.livejournal.com]

As you wish.

[Sloooowly opening the window. Just in case he changes his mind. So Raoul can do it anyway.]

[phantomvicomte.livejournal.com]

[It doesn't matter, Raoul. Erik's ending his part of the transmission. But it's on. It's on like 19th century Donkey Kong.]

[sodeepitsreal.livejournal.com]

[Oh wow. That's pretty on. Raoul's looking forward to it.]