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Laugh at Stupidity > Recent Entries> Archive> Friends> Profile> The Sueniverse: A Mary-Sue RPG	August 16th, 2013 child_of_naamah01:06 pm - Yay updates!Still working with Take What Little I Diserve... This has been a busy few days, but I'm really hoping to get more done today! Enjoy!Gustave's POVFather takes me home, and he goes to his room. (Have you noticed that we’re five chapters in and nothing interesting has happened yet?) I overheard him and Madame Giry talking, I could be sent back to France (where all my friends live, and speak the same language as I do… what an awful place). I didn't want to go back to France (for some bizarre reason), I wanted to stay with Father and Mother. I loved them and I wanted to be a family, but how could I do that if ~~I was in France with the man who had hit my mother and cheated on her~~ (she died)? (Seriously, we’ve had three transfusions, thank goodness Christine is apparently a universal receiver – though we all knew that already wink wink But still, everyone’s just waiting for her to wake up) He had even hit me once, (Oh Gustave, you live in 1907, it’s likely you were spanked more than that) my shoulder still hurt and the bruise was still there from when I wanted to play the grand piano, (I guess the author wrote this in to the “first night in America” scene? Or is Gustave, a boisterous ten year old boy, really so fragile that his bruises still hurt several weeks later?) but he was drinking and I didn't know. Mother wasn't home and he had said that if I ever told her, then even worse would happen to her. (Tired cliché plot device, activated!) So I kept quiet (until the predictably opportune moment where I could reveal it to my REAL daddy), I could still remember how it went down. (Cue wiggly screen!)I looked around, Mother wasn't home and father was in the kitchen. I looked at the smooth black grand piano. It couldn't hurt to just play one melody, one little song. I smile and pull myself onto the bench (because I am a ten year old midget) and before I play, I run my finger tips lightly over the top of the cool white keys. (Thank goodness I didn’t inherit my mother’s flying hands, I think to myself. They make her useless at playing the piano.) I then begin to play, and I loose (my midget hounds. They aren’t as scary as Mister Y’s yet, but they keep intruders at bay while I lose) myself in the music. It feels so good to let the songs coming from my head and just let them pour out though my finger tips and out through the beautiful sound of the grand piano which was kept in perfect condition and tuning (because the most important thing about this sentence was that the reader knows the piano is well tuned and in perfect condition.). The only reason I stop is because I feel my hair yanked back and I;m thrust from the piano bench, (OH NOES!)"_What did I tell you about playing that damn piano!" He yelled yanking me up to his level by my hair, my feet dangling above the ground. (Ok. Wouldn’t this kind of scalp the kid? How long is the rebellious Gustave’s hair, anyway?) I'm so scared that I can't talk, and nothing comes out but a sob. (My midget hounds snap at Raoul’s ankles, but his Achilles tendon is so muscular and strong that all their teeth break) He then throws me on the floor and slaps my shoulder hard, "Don't ever touch that piano again! And don't ever tell your mother about this or I promise much worse will happen to her and you." and then kicks the same spot before leaving (, taking extra special care to kick the hound-puppies and stomp on them)._I take off my shirt (because I like to randomly strip out of my Victorian starched white shirts, and sleeves, and darling little waistcoat, and suspenders…) and look at the large purple spot, (By the way, I’m too annoyed to correct the commas anymore. Bad!fic author!! Was this your plan all along?? To offend me so much that I would no longer wish to correct your grammar?) I told mother that I had fallen on the playground, but I knew she didn't believe me. (After all, I’m kind of a wuss, and it’s not like I have ever rough housed with other boys in my TEN YEARS of living) But I had never told her the truth, and then we came here and all of this happened, and tomorrow I could be ~~snatched from my family~~ (rescued from the madman who keeps talking to my mother’s corpse as if it could hear him). I'm frantically searching through my luggage now, trying to make room for my new stuff (that Mister Oh God Y and I bought for me when we went shopping on the boardwalk. “First lesson of being an Opera Ghost, Gustave!” he had told me cheerfully over ice cream, brandishing mother’s credit cards. “Never pass up an opportunity for more francs than you’re owed! And an unconscious de Chagny is still a rich de Chagny!”), because i knew that Father had no real evidence of me being his son so I might as well pack now. (Did I mention that as well as being a wuss I’m a complete and utter walk over? I know, most children my age would have gotten indignant and attempted to run away if they truly hated their abusive dad. Not me. I’m as passive as a Junebug in July.)I stumble across a paper and I read it. My eyes widen and I run to Father's room. (LE GASP!)"Father! Father!" I barge in and he's looking at a photograph of mother. He (zips ups his pants in a hurry,) looks up at me and asks,"Yes Gustave." (That’s not a question!) I hand him the slip of paper and his eyes light up."Gustave this is exactly the evidence that we needed! (This is even more convenient than the purple welt you’re about to show me which is still somehow fresh and sore after weeks of having it! Are you a hemophiliac? Are you about to drop dead? I’m sorry, do I sound too hopeful?) Where did you find it. (QUESTION MARK!)""In my suit case, Mr. de Changy (CHAGNY) and I have identical ones, so he must have put that in mine instead of his." (Abusive!Raoul back home: “Goddamn you Christine, you shrunk ALL my clothes in the laundry AGAIN! Even DEAD you make my life miserable!!”) I say smiling and then Father hugs me close and says,"We'll be able to make it through this, I promise! We'll be a proper family, me, you and your mother." I smile and hug him back smiling and snuggling up against the warmth and the love in his arms, but cringing when he touched my shoulder, "Gustave why did you flinch? (I’ve been hugging you all badfic so far, and you’ve been clambering on my lap like a jackmonkey, seriously, where did this flinching come from?" He asks. I feel my face go hot,"It's nothing-" I begin but then Father catches sight of the slight part of the bruise through my (apparently threadbare) shirt (How is Gustave running around in a shirt people can see through?? Is this more of the de Changy crazy kink? And if his shirt is so transparent, why did no one see this before today???) (Cliché plot device make Hulk ANGRY)"Let me see that young man." He says (, titillated by the transparency of my shirt and unable to contain his desire to see me strip,) and I do(n’t know if I feel comfortable being in this fic anymore. I need an adult!!). He inspects it and asks,"How did you get it? Tell me the truth Gustave." And then I start crying and tell him (I just feel so objectified, being made to run around in sheer clothing!)."And then he hit (a) be(e) and (it stung him, so he) kicked me throwing me on the ground. (Then he stomped on my puppies,) Threatening that if I told Mother he'd hurt her!" I say and his fists clench up and his jaw ticks (Phantom’s got a twitch!) and locks,"How dare he-How dare he lay hands on a child. How dare he purposefully hurt a child and a woman. (At least I only ever tied them up and dragged them unwillingly into my underground lair and threatened to blow up every man woman and child in the Opera House above me!) Gustave, are you comfortable with sharing that in court as well as this? (The bit about Raoul being a bastard, I mean – I’d prefer it if you didn’t mention my crimes.) Did you go to the hospital for it?""Yes, I sprained my shoulder, Mother keeps those records in her bag. (She carries around records of all Gustave’s injuries? Yegads, maybe he IS a hemophiliac) I told her that I fell while on the playground and hit a rock, but I can tell she didn't believe me.""My son, we are saved!" He cries (, and I realized where I inherited all my inherent wussiness from) and then I wrap my arms around him and say,"I don't ever want to leave." and I hug him for a while (, my shoulder pain having vanished as mysteriously as it arrived) before I'm sent off to bed.(So what is this random piece of paper that’s going to save the Phantom and Gustave???? This fanfic wanker is much too curious to leave it at that!! Onward!!) Christine's POVI sit by myself, playing with a piece of cloud like fluff. I sigh, (acutely aware that even in Heaven I am as dull as dishwater and only half as interesting.) I wished that I could be with Erik and Gustave. They needed me if they had any chance of keeping Gustave in America. (Fear not, Christine! They have aRandom Piece of Paper which will save them!)I feel tears coming to my eyes and they slowly and silently fall down my cheeks. (Here we go, Silent TearsTM) Daddy looks at me and asks,"What's the matter Lotte?" He asks, (“Why do I always call you Lotte? After all, I must have had some hand in naming you, why would I name you Christine then never call you by that name?”)"I want to go home, I want to see Erik and Gustave again." I say and I sniff (the clouds like coke. Like every other emo in the world I desperately hoped that the drugs would make me a more interesting and vivacious person, but it’s hard to get the good stuff in Heaven.) "Well Lotte, that just may be possible." He says(, “)smiling (would be much better for you than cloud-dust, Chrissy. You know, you even look half-pretty when you smile”). I put my head up and look at him, starting to get my hopes up,(“That surgery I wanted would only cost 90 grand…”) (“Ok Christine, I’m drawing a line! I did not complain when you changed your name from Christine to Lotte…!) (“I need a stage name!!”) (“You are a disgrace! Your genes are not worthy of mine! Now let’s get back to our own musical so I can kick you out of my cloud, you ungrateful wretch!”)"How?" I ask"Well you see, you're not dead. (Dun dun DUNNNN!) Not fully so you didn't go right to the pearly gates, you came here, a place where you go to make a choice, death or life. (And you’re just telling her this NOW??) I chose death obviously because I (was so fed up of putting up with you and your whiny self-obsessed personality) ~~knew that it was my time,~~ but you my dear one, don't have to. (In fact, I’d really appreciate if you’d get out. You’re mopey and boring, and you’re cramping my angelic style) ~~You're young and strong."~~ He says I scamper up (on all four legs with my BALL! Throw my BALL!) and say,"I want to choose it! Right now! (But throw my ball first!!)" He laughs and says,"(I’m not touching that ball, it’s got your slobber all over it. Now,) All you have to do is close your eyes, picture your body and where it is and then slowly open your eyes." I run over to him and hug him,"Thank you Daddy! I'll ~~miss you~~ (never understand why you made me wait 6 chapters before giving me this news, but thank you)." I say and he hugs me back and says,"Lotte I'll always be with you and your little one." smiling knowingly which makes me confused,"You mean Gustave? He's hardly little anymore." I say confused. (“He can pull himself up onto the piano bench now with only a little bit of difficulty. You should see him there, with his legs dangling…”) Daddy just laughs and says,"(I wasn’t talking about that wimpy midget, I was talking about the daughter you’re carrying who had better go on to be Joan of Arc, or something else equally cool to make up for that sad sack you dare to call my grandchild.) You'll see Lotte. Now go, your family needs you." I smile and then kiss him on the cheek before closing my eyes and slowly opening them. (I find it hard to believe that she didn’t blink slowly the whole time she was in Heaven.)When my eyes open I'm in a room, a hospital room. It worked! I'm not dead. I smile and then laugh before realizing I'm alone. (Erik must have taken Gustave to the boardwalk again. Sure enough – there’s my purse, and they left it open, little thieves. Didn’t even have the decency to pretend…)"Erik?! Gustave?!" I yell (, ready to kick some real ass,) and the Doctor comes in,"Well look who decided to wake up. (My syphilis patient! Oh and Christine, you’re awake too. That’s scientifically improbable, but I just work for the badfic, I don’t argue with it.) How are you feeling?" He asks smiling. I smile and am about to say something when a wave of nausea comes over me and I feel like I'm going to be sick. I turn to the side and throw up all over the floor on the left side of my bed."Where's my family?" I ask my grip tightening on the bars. "They went to a court case over where the boy's-" he starts but I cut him off,"Well go get them!" I say tensing up. "Don't just stand there, I want to see them! I need to! (It’s not like you’re a doctor or anything, and have lives to save, or do anything better than cater to my selfish whims!! Do you know how much I’m paying you to stay in this hospital bed?? My husband owns half the wings of every hospital in the WORLD!!!!!!)" I yell and then turn and throw up again as another wave of nausea (at my own self-righteous arrogance) comes and goes. (I find that as long as I’m a FREQUENT bitch, the nausea isn’t too bad. It’s only when I take a break from it for a while that I stop being able to stand myself again) The Doctor calls in a younger man and then says,"Go to the court house and tell Mr. Y that she's awake. (She’s right, we’re just convenient NPCs, placed in HER story entirely to further HER plot, and therefore she is the only patient we have that matters. Also, her husband probably does own this hospital, but secretly, so that he can somehow mess with her treatment later on)" The younger one leaves and I shout,"And quickly (, you worthless son of a…!)." As a nurse comes in with a basin just as I throw up again. I hope he gets there in time, I don't want to loose (the hounds upon) Gustave, (but if he goes to court and tells them about his transparent clothing, I know I’ll be in trouble, and)~~because I know that~~ once that happens my life won't be able to go on. Raoul hit him and I know he did, that bruise on his shoulder, I saw what happened in the music room as I was coming inside the house. I didn't say anything though, because (it was voyeur-night again, and the rules are explicit! I can watch but I mustn’t say or do anything, and it’s the rules that make it fun!) ~~he was drunk as usual~~. But soon I would have both Gustave (back in his see-through shirts,) and Erik (telling me constantly that he’s not good enough for me,) back by my side and I'd be able to relax (and live with my midget-boy-wimp on one leash and the whiny-man-slave on the other, drinking champagne in Malibu and living the spoiled Barbie life I deserve..) Current Mood: amused(3 comments \| Leave a comment)From:igenlode Date:August 21st, 2013 02:55 pm (UTC) (Link)Sorry, I meant to follow up to this earlier, but my "Choices of Raoul" has been giving me a lot of trouble...*Father takes me home, and he goes to his room. (Have you noticed that we’re five chapters in and nothing interesting has happened yet?)*But... the bleeding-edge-of-technology blood transfusion! The custody battle! The Mysterious Letter (oops, that hasn't quite happened yet)! The fluff...He had even hit me once, (Oh Gustave, you live in 1907, it’s likely you were spanked more than that)But corporal punishment would be Child Abuse!(I once read a -- good -- fanfic where the author went to some trouble to explain why Christine's son hadn't been sent away to school because of the discipline there... all right, points for realising that this attitude was an anachronism and needed explaining, but it did strike as an unnecessary 21st-century insertion.)How long is the rebellious Gustave’s hair, anyway?)Clearly Raoul's fashion sense hasn't improved since the movie :-)He then throws me on the floor and slaps my shoulder hard, "Don't ever touch that piano again! And don't ever tell your mother about this or I promise much worse will happen to her and you." and then kicks the same spot before leaving Presumably he bends double to slap the shoulder of this small child at floor-level before kicking it..?I take off my shirt (because I like to randomly strip out of my Victorian starched white shirts, and sleeves, and darling little waistcoat, and suspenders...) and look at the large purple spot,** Instant Bruise!Or perhaps it takes Gustave a good half-hour to get out of all those clothes...I'm frantically searching through my luggage nowWait... how did Gustave's luggage get into Erik's home? They came directly from the concert hall to the pier to the hospital before "Father takes me home"...Maybe the Phantom was so confident of winning the bet that he had Christine's and Gustave's possessions moved into his home before the concert?an unconscious de Chagny is still a rich de ChagnySo that's why Raoul is "deep in debt" -- Christine's credit cards!*In my suit case, Mr. de Changy (CHAGNY) and I have identical ones, so he must have put that in mine instead of his." (Abusive!Raoul back home: "Goddamn you Christine, you shrunk ALL my clothes in the laundry AGAIN! Even DEAD you make my life miserable!!")*The mental image is hilarious :-D(And... I actually used that plot device myself (Raoul accidentally packs Gustave's shirts -- as well, not instead of his own!) I'm not sure if that's scary or just... really worrying...) Gustave, are you comfortable with sharing that in court as well as this? (The bit about Raoul being a bastard, I meanAs opposed to the bit about Gustave being a bastard, which is the nub of the 'case'... :-P(Reply) (Thread) From:igenlode Date:August 21st, 2013 02:55 pm (UTC) (Link) I sit by myself, playing with a piece of cloud like fluff. I sigh, (acutely aware that even in Heaven I am as dull as dishwater and only half as interesting.)*Hang on, is she supposed to be in Heaven? Is this cloud-like fluff, or an actual cloud?reads backThe last we heard of Christine, she was "in a small hospital room" and falling spiritually asleep on Erik's lap. Before that, she wakes up in "a completely white room" -- which may or may not be the same one -- where the ghost of her father appears to her.So unless I'm missing something in that long incoherent screed, there has been no indication of any bits of cloud lying around in this hospital, or that she and her father have ever left it... Maybe it is a piece of fluff she is playing with?_why would I name you Christine then never call you by that name?”)_One word: Cosette :-)you came here, a place where you go to make a choice, death or life. (And you’re just telling her this NOW??)Ah. Right. So we have* left the hospital... at some unmentioned point...I chose death obviouslySo -- why are you still here in this 'choice'place, then?I chose death obviously because I knew that it was my time, but you my dear one, don't have to. You're young and strong." He says I scamper up and say, "I want to choose it! Right now!"She wants to choose... death? Or am I misreading that?When my eyes open I'm in a room, a hospital room. It worked! I'm not dead. So.. like the last two times she was in a hospital room, then?"Where's my family?" I ask my grip tightening on the bars. The bars round her bed must have made life interesting for the nurses trying to change the sheets... but clearly they reckoned she needed restraint!"They went to a court case I thought they went home?Ah, clearly there has been an unexplained timelapse (given all the _over_-explanation that has been going on, that's ironic) and/or Christine's conversation with her father took a lot longer than it appeared to on the page...As a nurse comes in with a basin just as I throw up againSo she's been sick three times in rapid succession, and the medical staff aren't in the slightest bit concerned?Hmm, no weird cravings, she's probably not pregnant... anyway, the doctors would have picked up on anything of the sort while they were treating her for major abdominal trauma... (and if she's that far advanced, wouldn't it be Raoul's baby?!)I hope he gets there in time, I don't want to loose (the hounds upon) Gustave, (but if he goes to court and tells them about his transparent clothing, I know I'll be in trouble, and) because I know that once that happens my life won't be able to go on. So she is therefore going to make the doctor pull Erik and Gustave out of a court hearing which might destroy her entire future, simply in order to have them at her bedside? Skewed sense of priorities, or what?(Reply) (Thread) From:newmoonstar Date:August 31st, 2013 08:25 am (UTC) (Link)Laughing SO much!!! I wish I hadn't been so busy lately, I'd have read this sooner! (But a little phanwank really is the perfect de-stressing tool, I gotta say.)Your very last line gives me a terrible idea: Christine: Life in the Dream Lair! A new web series sequel! Join Christine, her boyfriend the Phantom, and all their wacky friends in crazy adventures beneath the ruins of Phantasma! With music by Andrew Lloyd Webber! Soon to be opening as a West End musical! (And closing shortly thereafter, to the composer's great bewilderment!)But maybe I shouldn't even joke about it, since I wouldn't put it past ALW to actually do something like this nowadays...(Reply) (Thread)
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Laugh at Stupidity > Recent Entries> Archive> Friends> Profile> The Sueniverse: A Mary-Sue RPG

August 16th, 2013

01:06 pm - Yay updates!Still working with Take What Little I Diserve... This has been a busy few days, but I'm really hoping to get more done today! Enjoy!Gustave's POVFather takes me home, and he goes to his room. (Have you noticed that we’re five chapters in and nothing interesting has happened yet?) I overheard him and Madame Giry talking, I could be sent back to France (where all my friends live, and speak the same language as I do… what an awful place). I didn't want to go back to France (for some bizarre reason), I wanted to stay with Father and Mother. I loved them and I wanted to be a family, but how could I do that if ~~I was in France with the man who had hit my mother and cheated on her~~ (she died)? (Seriously, we’ve had three transfusions, thank goodness Christine is apparently a universal receiver – though we all knew that already *wink wink* But still, everyone’s just waiting for her to wake up) He had even hit me once, (Oh Gustave, you live in 1907, it’s likely you were spanked more than that) my shoulder still hurt and the bruise was still there from when I wanted to play the grand piano, (I guess the author wrote this in to the “first night in America” scene? Or is Gustave, a boisterous ten year old boy, really so fragile that his bruises still hurt several weeks later?) but he was drinking and I didn't know. Mother wasn't home and he had said that if I ever told her, then even worse would happen to her. (Tired cliché plot device, activated!) So I kept quiet (until the predictably opportune moment where I could reveal it to my REAL daddy), I could still remember how it went down. (Cue wiggly screen!)I looked around, Mother wasn't home and father was in the kitchen. I looked at the smooth black grand piano. It couldn't hurt to just play one melody, one little song. I smile and pull myself onto the bench (because I am a ten year old midget) and before I play, I run my finger tips lightly over the top of the cool white keys. (Thank goodness I didn’t inherit my mother’s flying hands, I think to myself. They make her useless at playing the piano.) I then begin to play, and I loose (my midget hounds. They aren’t as scary as Mister Y’s yet, but they keep intruders at bay while I lose) myself in the music. It feels so good to let the songs coming from my head and just let them pour out though my finger tips and out through the beautiful sound of the grand piano which was kept in perfect condition and tuning (because the most important thing about this sentence was that the reader knows the piano is well tuned and in perfect condition.). The only reason I stop is because I feel my hair yanked back and I;m thrust from the piano bench, (OH NOES!)"_What did I tell you about playing that damn piano!" He yelled yanking me up to his level by my hair, my feet dangling above the ground. (Ok. Wouldn’t this kind of scalp the kid? How long is the rebellious Gustave’s hair, anyway?) I'm so scared that I can't talk, and nothing comes out but a sob. (My midget hounds snap at Raoul’s ankles, but his Achilles tendon is so muscular and strong that all their teeth break) He then throws me on the floor and slaps my shoulder hard, "Don't ever touch that piano again! And don't ever tell your mother about this or I promise much worse will happen to her and you." and then kicks the same spot before leaving (, taking extra special care to kick the hound-puppies and stomp on them)._I take off my shirt (because I like to randomly strip out of my Victorian starched white shirts, and sleeves, and darling little waistcoat, and suspenders…) and look at the large purple spot, (By the way, I’m too annoyed to correct the commas anymore. Bad!fic author!! Was this your plan all along?? To offend me so much that I would no longer wish to correct your grammar?) I told mother that I had fallen on the playground, but I knew she didn't believe me. (After all, I’m kind of a wuss, and it’s not like I have ever rough housed with other boys in my TEN YEARS of living) But I had never told her the truth, and then we came here and all of this happened, and tomorrow I could be ~~snatched from my family~~ (rescued from the madman who keeps talking to my mother’s corpse as if it could hear him). I'm frantically searching through my luggage now, trying to make room for my new stuff (that Mister Oh God Y and I bought for me when we went shopping on the boardwalk. “First lesson of being an Opera Ghost, Gustave!” he had told me cheerfully over ice cream, brandishing mother’s credit cards. “Never pass up an opportunity for more francs than you’re owed! And an unconscious de Chagny is still a rich de Chagny!”), because i knew that Father had no real evidence of me being his son so I might as well pack now. (Did I mention that as well as being a wuss I’m a complete and utter walk over? I know, most children my age would have gotten indignant and attempted to run away if they truly hated their abusive dad. Not me. I’m as passive as a Junebug in July.)I stumble across a paper and I read it. My eyes widen and I run to Father's room. (LE GASP!)"Father! Father!" I barge in and he's looking at a photograph of mother. He (zips ups his pants in a hurry,) looks up at me and asks,"Yes Gustave." (That’s not a question!) I hand him the slip of paper and his eyes light up."Gustave this is exactly the evidence that we needed! (This is even more convenient than the purple welt you’re about to show me which is still somehow fresh and sore after weeks of having it! Are you a hemophiliac? Are you about to drop dead? I’m sorry, do I sound too hopeful?) Where did you find it. (QUESTION MARK!)""In my suit case, Mr. de Changy (CHAGNY) and I have identical ones, so he must have put that in mine instead of his." (Abusive!Raoul back home: “Goddamn you Christine, you shrunk ALL my clothes in the laundry AGAIN! Even DEAD you make my life miserable!!”) I say smiling and then Father hugs me close and says,"We'll be able to make it through this, I promise! We'll be a proper family, me, you and your mother." I smile and hug him back smiling and snuggling up against the warmth and the love in his arms, but cringing when he touched my shoulder, "Gustave why did you flinch? (I’ve been hugging you all badfic so far, and you’ve been clambering on my lap like a jackmonkey, seriously, where did this flinching come from?" He asks. I feel my face go hot,"It's nothing-" I begin but then Father catches sight of the slight part of the bruise through my (apparently threadbare) shirt (How is Gustave running around in a shirt people can see through?? Is this more of the de Changy crazy kink? And if his shirt is so transparent, why did no one see this before today???) (Cliché plot device make Hulk ANGRY)"Let me see that young man." He says (, titillated by the transparency of my shirt and unable to contain his desire to see me strip,) and I do(n’t know if I feel comfortable being in this fic anymore. I need an adult!!). He inspects it and asks,"How did you get it? Tell me the truth Gustave." And then I start crying and tell him (I just feel so objectified, being made to run around in sheer clothing!)."And then he hit (a) be(e) and (it stung him, so he) kicked me throwing me on the ground. (Then he stomped on my puppies,) Threatening that if I told Mother he'd hurt her!" I say and his fists clench up and his jaw ticks (Phantom’s got a twitch!) and locks,"How dare he-How dare he lay hands on a child. How dare he purposefully hurt a child and a woman. (At least I only ever tied them up and dragged them unwillingly into my underground lair and threatened to blow up every man woman and child in the Opera House above me!) Gustave, are you comfortable with sharing that in court as well as this? (The bit about Raoul being a bastard, I mean – I’d prefer it if you didn’t mention my crimes.) Did you go to the hospital for it?""Yes, I sprained my shoulder, Mother keeps those records in her bag. (She carries around records of all Gustave’s injuries? Yegads, maybe he IS a hemophiliac) I told her that I fell while on the playground and hit a rock, but I can tell she didn't believe me.""My son, we are saved!" He cries (, and I realized where I inherited all my inherent wussiness from) and then I wrap my arms around him and say,"I don't ever want to leave." and I hug him for a while (, my shoulder pain having vanished as mysteriously as it arrived) before I'm sent off to bed.(So what is this random piece of paper that’s going to save the Phantom and Gustave???? This fanfic wanker is much too curious to leave it at that!! Onward!!) Christine's POVI sit by myself, playing with a piece of cloud like fluff. I sigh, (acutely aware that even in Heaven I am as dull as dishwater and only half as interesting.) I wished that I could be with Erik and Gustave. They needed me if they had any chance of keeping Gustave in America. (Fear not, Christine! They have aRandom Piece of Paper which will save them!)I feel tears coming to my eyes and they slowly and silently fall down my cheeks. (Here we go, Silent TearsTM) Daddy looks at me and asks,"What's the matter Lotte?" He asks, (“Why do I always call you Lotte? After all, I must have had some hand in naming you, why would I name you Christine then never call you by that name?”)"I want to go home, I want to see Erik and Gustave again." I say and I sniff (the clouds like coke. Like every other emo in the world I desperately hoped that the drugs would make me a more interesting and vivacious person, but it’s hard to get the good stuff in Heaven.) "Well Lotte, that just may be possible." He says(, “)smiling (would be much better for you than cloud-dust, Chrissy. You know, you even look half-pretty when you smile”). I put my head up and look at him, starting to get my hopes up,(“That surgery I wanted would only cost 90 grand…”) (“Ok Christine, I’m drawing a line! I did not complain when you changed your name from Christine to Lotte…!) (“I need a stage name!!”) (“You are a disgrace! Your genes are not worthy of mine! Now let’s get back to our own musical so I can kick you out of my cloud, you ungrateful wretch!”)"How?" I ask"Well you see, you're not dead. (Dun dun DUNNNN!) Not fully so you didn't go right to the pearly gates, you came here, a place where you go to make a choice, death or life. (And you’re just telling her this NOW??) I chose death obviously because I (was so fed up of putting up with you and your whiny self-obsessed personality) ~~knew that it was my time,~~ but you my dear one, don't have to. (In fact, I’d really appreciate if you’d get out. You’re mopey and boring, and you’re cramping my angelic style) ~~You're young and strong."~~ He says I scamper up (on all four legs with my BALL! Throw my BALL!) and say,"I want to choose it! Right now! (But throw my ball first!!)" He laughs and says,"(I’m not touching that ball, it’s got your slobber all over it. Now,) All you have to do is close your eyes, picture your body and where it is and then slowly open your eyes." I run over to him and hug him,"Thank you Daddy! I'll ~~miss you~~ (never understand why you made me wait 6 chapters before giving me this news, but thank you)." I say and he hugs me back and says,"Lotte I'll always be with you and your little one." smiling knowingly which makes me confused,"You mean Gustave? He's hardly little anymore." I say confused. (“He can pull himself up onto the piano bench now with only a little bit of difficulty. You should see him there, with his legs dangling…”) Daddy just laughs and says,"(I wasn’t talking about that wimpy midget, I was talking about the daughter you’re carrying who had better go on to be Joan of Arc, or something else equally cool to make up for that sad sack you dare to call my grandchild.) You'll see Lotte. Now go, your family needs you." I smile and then kiss him on the cheek before closing my eyes and slowly opening them. **(I find it hard to believe that she didn’t blink slowly the whole time she was in Heaven.)**When my eyes open I'm in a room, a hospital room. It worked! I'm not dead. I smile and then laugh before realizing I'm alone. (Erik must have taken Gustave to the boardwalk again. Sure enough – there’s my purse, and they left it open, little thieves. Didn’t even have the decency to pretend…)"Erik?! Gustave?!" I yell (, ready to kick some real ass,) and the Doctor comes in,"Well look who decided to wake up. (My syphilis patient! Oh and Christine, you’re awake too. That’s scientifically improbable, but I just work for the badfic, I don’t argue with it.) How are you feeling?" He asks smiling. I smile and am about to say something when a wave of nausea comes over me and I feel like I'm going to be sick. I turn to the side and throw up all over the floor on the left side of my bed."Where's my family?" I ask my grip tightening on the bars. "They went to a court case over where the boy's-" he starts but I cut him off,"Well go get them!" I say tensing up. "Don't just stand there, I want to see them! I need to! (It’s not like you’re a doctor or anything, and have lives to save, or do anything better than cater to my selfish whims!! Do you know how much I’m paying you to stay in this hospital bed?? My husband owns half the wings of every hospital in the WORLD!!!!!!)" I yell and then turn and throw up again as another wave of nausea (at my own self-righteous arrogance) comes and goes. (I find that as long as I’m a FREQUENT bitch, the nausea isn’t too bad. It’s only when I take a break from it for a while that I stop being able to stand myself again) The Doctor calls in a younger man and then says,"Go to the court house and tell Mr. Y that she's awake. (She’s right, we’re just convenient NPCs, placed in HER story entirely to further HER plot, and therefore she is the only patient we have that matters. Also, her husband probably does own this hospital, but secretly, so that he can somehow mess with her treatment later on)" The younger one leaves and I shout,"And quickly (, you worthless son of a…!)." As a nurse comes in with a basin just as I throw up again. I hope he gets there in time, I don't want to loose (the hounds upon) Gustave, (but if he goes to court and tells them about his transparent clothing, I know I’ll be in trouble, and)~~because I know that~~ once that happens my life won't be able to go on. Raoul hit him and I know he did, that bruise on his shoulder, I saw what happened in the music room as I was coming inside the house. I didn't say anything though, because (it was voyeur-night again, and the rules are explicit! I can watch but I mustn’t say or do anything, and it’s the rules that make it fun!) ~~he was drunk as usual~~. But soon I would have both Gustave (back in his see-through shirts,) and Erik (telling me constantly that he’s not good enough for me,) back by my side and I'd be able to relax (and live with my midget-boy-wimp on one leash and the whiny-man-slave on the other, drinking champagne in Malibu and living the spoiled Barbie life I deserve..) Current Mood: amused

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igenlode Date:August 21st, 2013 02:55 pm (UTC) **(Link)**Sorry, I meant to follow up to this earlier, but my "Choices of Raoul" has been giving me a lot of trouble...**Father takes me home, and he goes to his room. (Have you noticed that we’re five chapters in and nothing interesting has happened yet?)**But... the bleeding-edge-of-technology blood transfusion! The custody battle! The Mysterious Letter (oops, that hasn't quite happened yet)! The fluff...**He had even hit me once, (Oh Gustave, you live in 1907, it’s likely you were spanked more than that)But corporal punishment would be Child Abuse!(I once read a -- good -- fanfic where the author went to some trouble to explain why Christine's son hadn't been sent away to school because of the discipline there... all right, points for realising that this attitude was an anachronism and needed explaining, but it did strike as an unnecessary 21st-century insertion.)How long is the rebellious Gustave’s hair, anyway?)**Clearly Raoul's fashion sense hasn't improved since the movie :-)He then throws me on the floor and slaps my shoulder hard, "Don't ever touch that piano again! And don't ever tell your mother about this or I promise much worse will happen to her and you." and then kicks the same spot before leaving Presumably he bends double to slap the shoulder of this small child at floor-level before kicking it..?I take off my shirt (because I like to randomly strip out of my Victorian starched white shirts, and sleeves, and darling little waistcoat, and suspenders...) and look at the large purple spot, Instant Bruise!Or perhaps it takes Gustave a good half-hour to get out of all those clothes...I'm frantically searching through my luggage nowWait... how did Gustave's luggage get into Erik's home? They came directly from the concert hall to the pier to the hospital before "Father takes me home"...Maybe the Phantom was so confident of winning the bet that he had Christine's and Gustave's possessions moved into his home before the concert?an unconscious de Chagny is still a rich de ChagnySo that's why Raoul is "deep in debt" -- Christine's credit cards!**In my suit case, Mr. de Changy (CHAGNY) and I have identical ones, so he must have put that in mine instead of his." (Abusive!Raoul back home: "Goddamn you Christine, you shrunk ALL my clothes in the laundry AGAIN! Even DEAD you make my life miserable!!")**The mental image is hilarious :-D(And... I actually used that plot device myself (Raoul accidentally packs Gustave's shirts -- as well, not instead of his own!) I'm not sure if that's scary or just... really worrying...) **Gustave, are you comfortable with sharing that in court as well as this? (The bit about Raoul being a bastard, I mean**As opposed to the bit about Gustave being a bastard, which is the nub of the 'case'... :-P(Reply) (Thread)

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igenlode Date:August 21st, 2013 02:55 pm (UTC) (Link) **I sit by myself, playing with a piece of cloud like fluff. I sigh, (acutely aware that even in Heaven I am as dull as dishwater and only half as interesting.)**Hang on, is she supposed to be in Heaven? Is this cloud-like fluff, or an actual cloud?*reads back*The last we heard of Christine, she was "in a small hospital room" and falling spiritually asleep on Erik's lap. Before that, she wakes up in "a completely white room" -- which may or may not be the same one -- where the ghost of her father appears to her.So unless I'm missing something in that long incoherent screed, there has been no indication of any bits of cloud lying around in this hospital, or that she and her father have ever left it... Maybe it is a piece of fluff she is playing with?_why would I name you Christine then never call you by that name?”)_One word: Cosette :-)you came here, a place where you go to make a choice, death or life. (And you’re just telling her this NOW??)Ah. Right. So we have left the hospital... at some unmentioned point...I chose death obviouslySo -- why are you still here in this 'choice'place, then?I chose death obviously because I knew that it was my time, but you my dear one, don't have to. You're young and strong." He says I scamper up and say, "I want to choose it! Right now!"She wants to choose... death? Or am I misreading that?When my eyes open I'm in a room, a hospital room. It worked! I'm not dead. So.. like the last two times she was in a hospital room, then?"Where's my family?" I ask my grip tightening on the bars. The bars round her bed must have made life interesting for the nurses trying to change the sheets... but clearly they reckoned she needed restraint!"They went to a court case I thought they went home?Ah, clearly there has been an unexplained timelapse (given all the _over_-explanation that has been going on, that's ironic) and/or Christine's conversation with her father took a lot longer than it appeared to on the page...As a nurse comes in with a basin just as I throw up againSo she's been sick three times in rapid succession, and the medical staff aren't in the slightest bit concerned?Hmm, no weird cravings, she's probably not pregnant... anyway, the doctors would have picked up on anything of the sort while they were treating her for major abdominal trauma... (and if she's that far advanced, wouldn't it be Raoul's baby?!)I hope he gets there in time, I don't want to loose (the hounds upon) Gustave, (but if he goes to court and tells them about his transparent clothing, I know I'll be in trouble, and) because I know that once that happens my life won't be able to go on. So she is therefore going to make the doctor pull Erik and Gustave out of a court hearing which might destroy her entire future, simply in order to have them at her bedside? Skewed sense of priorities, or what?(Reply) (Thread)

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newmoonstar Date:August 31st, 2013 08:25 am (UTC) **(Link)**Laughing SO much!!! I wish I hadn't been so busy lately, I'd have read this sooner! (But a little phanwank really is the perfect de-stressing tool, I gotta say.)Your very last line gives me a terrible idea: Christine: Life in the Dream Lair! A new web series sequel! Join Christine, her boyfriend the Phantom, and all their wacky friends in crazy adventures beneath the ruins of Phantasma! With music by Andrew Lloyd Webber! Soon to be opening as a West End musical! (And closing shortly thereafter, to the composer's great bewilderment!)But maybe I shouldn't even joke about it, since I wouldn't put it past ALW to actually do something like this nowadays...(Reply) (Thread)

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