A Shape in the Shadows [Erik]

[Charlotte Isabelle Avare]

After meeting with Monsieur Isaacs, Charlotte decided to return to her dressing room and get a better look at it. After all, she had been rather fascinated by it, and wished to settle herself down within the room and become familiar with it. After all, she would be using it a lot from now on, and it was only wise to become familiar with her surroundings. That way, if she was in a rush and needed to find something, she'd have a clearer idea of where it could be located.

As she reached her dressing room, she stroked the door softly, it was a beautiful door, it had been well crafted, and Charlotte couldn't help but wonder if it had looked the same before the fire. Had it been more spectacular back then? Or had it's beauty increased with a fresh eye? Charlotte hardly cared, architecture wasn't her thing really, but she was able to appreciate it. Whoever rebuilt this place was a fine person indeed.

Opening the doors, she walked into her dressing room and smiled to herself. It was just so wonderful. She never thought in a million years that she'd find herself in a place like this. It felt so good to be in the very dressing room that Christine had once been in. Though she made it appear that she didn't believe the stories told to her about the Phantom, she did actually believe that it had happened, and she was fascinated by the story. So to be here, inside the room which was a piece of the legend was rather grand to Charlotte.

Walking up to the mirror, Charlotte imagined herself in a costume, ready to go on stage. Laughing she shook her head and sighed. She was daydreaming now, something she hadn't done for a long time. She was an adult now, such thoughts and actions shouldn't be happening. True, imagination was the key to music, it awakened it and allowed you to compose wonderous things. But daydreaming about your image was wrong, she didn't want to start becoming vain.

Memories flooded back to her of her mother, she knew that she'd be proud of her. Why shouldn't she be? Charlotte had achieved her dreams, well.... some of them. She was a leading lady now, her mother had always supported her, and Charlotte was glad she'd achieved this dream. Her mother had always sung her to sleep, telling her that one day, Charlotte would be singing on stage, making everyone happy. "Life if a bowl of cherries isn't mother?" Charlotte said to herself, remembering the Gershwin song her mother had always sang to her.

"Life is just a bowl of cherries.
Don't take it serious; life's so mysterious.
You work, you save, you worry so,
But you can't take your dough when you go, go, go.
So keep repeating it's the berries,
The strongest oak must fall,
The sweet things in life, to you were just loaned
So how can you lose what you've never owned?
Life is just a bowl of cherries,
So live and laugh at it all."

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[Monsieur Le Fantome]

Charlotte was rather pretty, whatever she may think of herself. There was a certain poise and elegance about her that was still unmarred by the pretentiousness that came with being the diva. Erik observed her for a bit, unnoticed. It was uncomfortable seeing her in Christine's old dressing room. In the height of her glory this opulent abode had belonged to his diva and to watch another woman making it their own was unnerving. Still, twelve years had passed and Christine would not be returning. He supposed he could demand from Monsieur Isaacs that this room be left alone, but Erik was trying to prove to himself that such lengths were not necessary. Christine had moved on into the world of the living, leaving him with nothing more than the memories of one exquisite night. He would be a simpering fool to still face the present with such difficulty over her. She was, after all, simply one woman.

Erik ignored the ridiculousness of his thoughts, observing the habits and idiosyncrasies of the new diva. She seemed to lack the rather regal arrogance that la Carlotta had possessed. Perhaps she would not be cruel to those beneath her. Though it was uncommon, Erik hoped for a modest and gentle leading lady for this new start. Given her history, Erik expected that perhaps Charlotte would be just that. Her upbringing hadn't exactly fostered a sense of superiority. Her father, a talented musician in his own right, had never earned the adulations of the masses. Perhaps his daughter would be different.

Erik silently mused over whether to leave her to her own devices, and then she began to sing. It was lovely. She would do quite well. On at least an intermediate level she was quite skilled. All of her flaws were quite advanced issues that the general public would likely turn a blind eye to easily. Given the roster of performances scheduled, Erik thought she was likely up to the task. Since everything seemed to be in order, Erik decided to simply leave her to her day - but not without inspiring a bit of ghostly encouragement.

He crafted a series of sounds, utterly convincing, to resonate from different areas of the room. The sound of footfall just on the other side of the bed, the creaking of a door from a vase filled with flowers, and so on.

[Charlotte Isabelle Avare]

Sighing, Charlotte laughed to herself and looked once again in the mirror. She could almost see her mother smiling back at her, showing the pride she held for her daughter, applauding her ever so softly. It brought a tear to Charlotte's eye, she missed her mother so much. Not a day went past when her mother wasn't on her mind, not a day went past when she didn't find herself wishing for her mother to still be alive. But such thoughts were useless, they wouldn't bring her mother back, once someone was dead, that was it. Miracles like that didn't happen anymore, they only happened in the Bible. Besides, her mother was at peace, it would be cruel to try and bring her back.

Turning away from the mirror, she wiped her eyes and shook herself. She should put such thoughts aside, today was a happy occassion, and she didn't wish to cause herself distress by making herself upset over past events. She had to make a good impression with everyone, if she came out crying and red faced, they could think her as weak or childish, and she didn't want that. She wanted to meet everyone with a calm and centered apperance. That way, she would come across possitivly, and wouldn't find any trouble.

It was then that she heard something strange, sounds all around her. Slowly rotating, she tried to see if anyone else was in the room, but there wasn't. Her jaw began to shake slightly, and she edged towards the dresser, leaning against it for support. Was this the Phantom's doing? Was he truely real as she had hoped? Or was her mind playing tricks on her? She hardly knew, and that scared her, she liked to be aware of things going on around her, so to have something like this happen was rather frightining for her. "Wh-Who's there?"