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Ready for another silly "Christine gets into trouble in Hell" story? I thought so. When the plagues rolled through town, I was buried alive in a coffin. I'm sure you're thinking, "Christine, that happened to lots of people, that's not exciting." You're right. The interesting part comes in when I tell you with whom I was buried with. It was Hancock. I was buried alive with John Hancock. We were a mess of tangled limbs. In a coffin.

[a hint of a smirk (or is it a smile?) curves the corner of Elizabeth's mouth]

Always.

You were buried... alive. Well, glad I missed out on that adventure. Seems like it was a good time to stay in and paint. I'm glad you that you're alright though. I guess you couldn't exactly die... again.

Oh, Hancock?

[He seems like a decent enough fellow; kinda starting to grow on her, he is. Like a mold.]

Wait, tangled limbs?

Chris, should I be worried about your decency? ;)

I was out and about. As I tend to do. You know me, can't stay put for very long. Found a lovely jazz club on the day that the sky was raining icy fireballs. We'll have to go sometime. Anyway. Yes. Hancock. Red coat, tricorner hat. Distinct lack of nose. Remember the day I went out to hunt down a hellbeast that was terrorizing the outskirts of town? It was with him. Pretty sure I mentioned that before but. I got banged over the head with a cast iron frying pan so I was slightly concussed at the time. When I started to come to, I might have mistaken poor Hancock for someone else, at first.

I'm guessing you spent a lot of time in one place, during your life. Restlessness can be a symptom of that. Trust me, I would know.

Yes, I know him. Actually made a deal with him; you could almost say we're working together, in the way that he's helping me and I will be helping him. With. Something? I'm uncertain what he wants, thus far.

Oh, you mistook him did you? And what form did that take exactly? Don't tell me you accidentally called out someone else's name.

[She's teasing you Christine!]

I did. Got sick of it. My death ought to be more interesting than my life.

[moving on because...THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED, ELIZABETH. GET OUT OF HER HEAD.]

I might have accidentally called him by my oh-so beloved almost-husband's name. It's rather difficult to tell the difference between the two of them in the dark while shoved into the tiny confines of a coffin.

Edited (what is html even) 2017-02-27 03:37 (UTC)

There may also have been an attempt at kissing him.

I couldn't agree more.

[Elizabeth contemplates the reality that Hancock could be mistaken for someone else; he's rather striking looking! It was dark though, and a small space...]

What exactly caused you to mistake him? Hancock is, uhm... I imagine it might be hard to confuse him with someone else, even if all you had to go by was touch.

[But oh, details!]

An attempt? I suppose your almost-husband should be glad of that?

Please don't think I'm judging you, Christine. I'm only amused by the situations you seem to find yourself in.

He seems like an agreeable sort, I doubt he was too upset over having a beautiful woman such as yourself try and kiss him.

[...right. She's probably mentioned something about Erik being ugly but never the full extent of it.

Well.

This is getting awkward.]

I do seem to attract ridiculousness, don't I? Erik has a rather peculiar appearance. He...might also be lacking a certain facial feature that sits right in the center there. I don't think Hancock was upset about it but. I am afraid I may have given him the wrong idea. I have been spending a lot of time with him, lately. More time than I've been spending with Erik, I dare say. I've gotten myself into a bit of a mess, haven't I. Another mess. I'm always in a mess.

You do. I'll just have to be sensible for both of us, won't I?

Oh, I... can see how that would make it easy to mix them up, in the dark. No nose is a somewhat striking feature. Well, here, anyway. You'd be surprised what kind of monsters Rapture churned out.

Spending time with someone doesn't hurt, but if you find yourself feeling guilty? That's probably a sign something is wrong.

[She would know!]

Huh, then maybe it's a good thing I don't mind you in a mess? I don't know... really anything about romantic relationships, so I'm afraid I can't offer much advice.

I can be sensible! I was sensible for the majority of my lifetime!

[Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Christine.]

I figured out the differences rather quickly. Erik's cheekbones are far more distinguished.

[That's the nice way of saying that he looks like a skull, she supposes.]

There's a lot of things I feel guilty about.

[But whether or not Hancock is one of them...she's not going to admit quite yet. She doesn't know what she feels for him.]That's alright. Wasn't really looking for advice, I don't think. Just...wanted to talk. Feels good to get it off my chest.

Seems like your death is nothing at all like your life, doesn't it?

[I don't think anyone has seen so much good nature from Liz in a long time.]

Yeah well... join the club. Maybe we should get jackets. [Sarcasm]

I'm here to listen, if that's of any comfort to you. Just send me a message, and I'll be here.

My life was dreadful. That might be an exaggeration a bit. It wasn't so bad. The sort of privileged life that all the Victorian ladies dream of. But yes! Jackets. We could even...what do they call it. What's the word I'm looking for... Bedazzle. We could bedazzle our stylish guilt club jackets. Shall be all the new rage for angel fashion.

So you were kept in a metaphorical cage, more or less? I can't decide if that would be better or worse than being locked up in a real one.

Bedazzle. [Oh. My. God.]

I can honestly say I've never worn anything bedazzled. It just looks so... shiny.

[She's not sure if she approves or disapproves.]

Out of curiosity, have you told your almost-husband that that you almost kissed someone else? Maybe you would feel less guilty if you tried that. He couldn't be too upset over an accident, could he?

[Hmmmmm.]

Unless there's some reason you think you shouldn't?

You're gonna wanna find a convenient time real quick, sister. I got somethin' for ya.

And what might what that something be, Hancock? Don't tell me you found what I'm looking for already; I wasn't expecting you to be so quick.

[Words not often spoken with such a fair measure of approval

There's a lovely sort of torment involved when you can see freedom right outside your window. And that it could be yours, if only you were brave enough to take it. Your own mind ends up being the cage, in the end.

[But enough about that...this bedazzling thing is amusing her right now, okay.]

Well, when in Hell, right? No demon would dare mess with two angels glittering so wonderfully in gaudy rhinestones. We'd truly be a force of nature.

[Her ridiculousness is charming, right?]

I haven't spoken of it to him, yet. I intend to but it's a delicate subject. He's the sort to fly off the handle at the slightest provocation. I know that he wouldn't hurt me. I worry that he'd make an attempt at hurting Hancock.

I had a thought. Shocking, I know. I thought, "I can fit in that."

And what do you know, I was right. This counts as being productive today, yes?

And here I thought using my married name once in a while wouldn't be a bad idea and then I come across this on the Hellnet.

[READ THIS, LIZ. ]

I'm having another one of those "What is my life" kind of moments. Again. There's no way someone can turn Daaé into a crude innuendo, is there?

I found this at Crimeries' Cursed Crap today. I think it's destiny.

Oh my god. [her dry voice cracks slightly with a hint of humor.]

Is this supposed to be one of those stylish guilt jackets we were discussing?

That sounds like an excellent question for the hellnet, if you're really that curious.

[What is the internet even. This was not a thing in her time.]

... why are you in the sink? [ oh lord. This is the same woman whose voice is a god damn weapon of beauty.]

Isn't it gloriously awful? The dead eyed stare of that unicorn is truly haunting.

[It certainly wasn't when she was alive either but...She's been dead long enough to embrace it. Sort of.

Maybe not today, though.]

Perhaps I'll just drop the surname all together. Christine is a fairly common name still but... I do not want to ever come to be known as some French courtesan named Mme. De Shagmé. The Victorian in me is utterly horrified.

...why not? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[One can be a musical force of nature and a total goof, after all.]

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