Christine remains focused entirely on Cohen when he reappears, the barrel of her pistol immediately aimed back on his head. There’s two of the henchmen left, including the icy man that seems to be mostly concerned with nursing his own broken face for the moment. The other one sits in her peripheral vision and is neither is a concern at the moment.
She almost laughs at the irony of Cohen’s comment about another predatory bird joining this dance. Oh, if only he knew...But she will not reveal that particular trick of hers quite yet. While incredibly useful, those powers are still new to her. For now, Christine wishes to stick to what she has learned best and save the crows for later. As Cohen too, removes his mask, she doesn’t even blink at the horrible visage beneath it. Does he mean to intimidate her with his ugliness? A tactic that might work on most people but on Christine, it’s rather pointless.
“What makes you think that I am the protege and not the master?” Christine speaks for the very first time. Her voice is low and melodic in tone but calm and calculated. She tilts her head, an eyebrow slightly raised. The way she asks this question, there may even be a hint of arrogance. Her eyes twitch towards that pocket watch swinging with its magic and while Christine is unaware of what exactly its purpose is, she can deduce that it has something to do with why Erik has been captured in the first place. The idea forms to shoot it out of Cohen’s hand. She blinks, adjusts her aim and takes the shot--
And she has no idea if she actually hit it or not. She thinks she heard the shot hit something but--
The first time Cohen had disappeared, it surprised her slightly. The second time, she spends those next brief moments studying that ability of his, knowing that the more she can figure out about it, the easier it will be to use it against him.
But then she is momentarily distracted by the falling body, her eyes inadvertently latching onto it and following it to the floor. As a consequence, when her eyes trail back up they lock with Erik’s for the first time and Christine would rather like to pull her heart out of her chest and beat that infernal organ to a pulp. It seizes in her chest when she sees him and she cannot breathe.
This is what she’s been avoiding for so long, this exact moment. This is why she was so grateful when he’d been wearing his mask the last time they had met upon a stage. The look in his eyes alone is enough to rend Christine to her knees but the full image of him destroys her.
He looks so helpless. Heartbroken. Shocked. The list goes on. The expression on his face is unbearable, not because of his horrible ugliness but because Christine can see clearly past that and only see how absolutely hurt he is. There’s no protecting him anymore. His naked skin is literally splattered in the red evidence of Christine’s continued psychosis. There are three lifeless bodies splayed out on the stage and no way to deny that she is capable of, responsible for, such acts of violence.
So stare away in abject horror, dearest Erik. But this is how an angel survives in Hell. This is how an angel proves how much she loves you, this is how an angel proves that she’s worthy of you, shows how deeply she regrets ever hurting you, ever leaving you, ever allowing you to ever think for a moment that she was not utterly devoted to you--
This is all because of you and there will be no stopping her
Christine shakes her head slowly to make that clear before tearing her eyes away from Erik’s. Then all she can do is wait for Cohen to rematerialize.
HAAA CHRISTINA RICCI IS JUST AMAZING, THAT'S ALL <33
She almost laughs at the irony of Cohen’s comment about another predatory bird joining this dance. Oh, if only he knew...But she will not reveal that particular trick of hers quite yet. While incredibly useful, those powers are still new to her. For now, Christine wishes to stick to what she has learned best and save the crows for later. As Cohen too, removes his mask, she doesn’t even blink at the horrible visage beneath it. Does he mean to intimidate her with his ugliness? A tactic that might work on most people but on Christine, it’s rather pointless.
“What makes you think that I am the protege and not the master?” Christine speaks for the very first time. Her voice is low and melodic in tone but calm and calculated. She tilts her head, an eyebrow slightly raised. The way she asks this question, there may even be a hint of arrogance. Her eyes twitch towards that pocket watch swinging with its magic and while Christine is unaware of what exactly its purpose is, she can deduce that it has something to do with why Erik has been captured in the first place. The idea forms to shoot it out of Cohen’s hand. She blinks, adjusts her aim and takes the shot--
And she has no idea if she actually hit it or not. She thinks she heard the shot hit something but--
The first time Cohen had disappeared, it surprised her slightly. The second time, she spends those next brief moments studying that ability of his, knowing that the more she can figure out about it, the easier it will be to use it against him.
But then she is momentarily distracted by the falling body, her eyes inadvertently latching onto it and following it to the floor. As a consequence, when her eyes trail back up they lock with Erik’s for the first time and Christine would rather like to pull her heart out of her chest and beat that infernal organ to a pulp. It seizes in her chest when she sees him and she cannot breathe.
This is what she’s been avoiding for so long, this exact moment. This is why she was so grateful when he’d been wearing his mask the last time they had met upon a stage. The look in his eyes alone is enough to rend Christine to her knees but the full image of him destroys her.
He looks so helpless. Heartbroken. Shocked. The list goes on. The expression on his face is unbearable, not because of his horrible ugliness but because Christine can see clearly past that and only see how absolutely hurt he is. There’s no protecting him anymore. His naked skin is literally splattered in the red evidence of Christine’s continued psychosis. There are three lifeless bodies splayed out on the stage and no way to deny that she is capable of, responsible for, such acts of violence.
So stare away in abject horror, dearest Erik. But this is how an angel survives in Hell. This is how an angel proves how much she loves you, this is how an angel proves that she’s worthy of you, shows how deeply she regrets ever hurting you, ever leaving you, ever allowing you to ever think for a moment that she was not utterly devoted to you--
This is all because of you and there will be no stopping her
Christine shakes her head slowly to make that clear before tearing her eyes away from Erik’s. Then all she can do is wait for Cohen to rematerialize.