Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-31845764-20171031024337

(I quite liked writing this one. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did! Happy Halloween!)

Anxiously pacing around the dressing room, you give your costume a once-over. It lies hanging on the side of the wardrobe ever since the last practice session, which was... about two days ago? You hadn't bothered to put it back inside after rehearsal, really - you were just too tired to. Despite it being tailor-made to you, there are more problems than it just being fitting. For example, wearing a stuffy set of clothes gets pretty uncomfortable after a while of continuous performing, especially when a certain phantom decides you'll be playing as one of the key characters of the story she's put together. But give credit where it's due - at least you won't get to look ridiculous in front of an audience while you're at it, since it's a Halloween stage play.

With a sigh, you hastily slip into your outfit, which heavily resembles that of a 20th century horror film - in fact, the entire cast's costumes share the same theme, all drawing inspiration from and paying homage to the classics. When she said she wanted to do something innovative for the grand opening of her new theater, you didn't expect her to bring out the old guns... but that's just like her, to grab something aged and add a modern twist to it to make it work. She was always a strong believer that modern horror media tries too much to focus on special effects and cheap shock value instead of relying on telling a good story that keeps the spectator on their toes.

It happened in high school, when you were looking for a club to join. The first one to pique your immediate interest was the Drama Club, which you considered joining to be a good idea at the time. The club had its fair share of members, human and mamono - though mostly mamono. One of the club's main activites revolved around acting out certain scenarios, whether random or prefabricated, and seeing how well you'd fare, alongside a partner. When your turn came about, you met her. A phantom who seemed to be around your age, and was supposed to be your practice partner. You had a case of stage fright when you realized that everyone's eyes would be upon the both of you, watching as you could potentially make several mistakes in front of an experienced member. You didn't actually end up acting that day since severe anxiety got in the way and you hastily excused yourself out of the club room, all as the phantom watched on with a concerned look on her face. One of the first things she did the next day was getting set to help you overcome your serious predicament, and she's been your best friend ever since. Right after high school, she pursued a degree in performing arts, and urged you to do the same. And now here you stand, getting yourself ready to perform in your friend's first professional stage play, the one that's supposed to push her career off to a great start and give her brand new theater a good reputation.

You look over at the mirror once more as you finish getting yourself ready. Your costume fits you perfectly, no doubt by-product of being crafted by a skilled arachne artisan. It's supposed to look like a demon hunter's armor, made of a mix between studded leather and dark silk with a few trimmings of silver around most edges - it even comes adorned with a cross emblem right above where the wearer's heart should be. She certainly spared no expense on making sure everything would go a long way...

As you marvel over your outfit, you hear three rhythmic knocks on the room's door, and shortly after a woman's voice.

"I hope you're ready, dearie. The play starts in fifteen minutes."

You immediately recognize the voice as belonging to a phantom you know all too well, your best friend. You open the door for her, trying your best to put a bit of confidence in your face when confronted by a metaphorical time bomb. It doesn't seem to work.

"Kukuku... Why the long face? Are you not excited for your first professional performance~?" she quips.

You calmly tell her that's exactly why you're a little nervous. If you mess up your lines or forget what to do, then that will be one difficult taint to wash off.

"...Don't worry. We're all a tad anxious today." she replies, dropping her sarcasm and giving you a faint smile. "Just do your best."

And with that, she leaves you alone to collect your thoughts as she makes her way to address the rest of the cast. You decide you'd better be off on your way to the stage to meet up with the others before the curtains rise.

Reaching the stage, you notice most of the actors are already there. Some are talking to each other, most are waiting patiently for the play to start, and you're relieved to see you're not the only uneasy one, since you're sure you caught a few fiddling with their thumbs or hair/fur. You can hear a large crowd behind the curtains, which must mean the tickets somehow sold out, something you didn't quite expect to happen.

Minutes pass, and as the lights inside the theater are systematically shut off, the audience waits expectantly while the red stage curtains slowly open, marking the beginning of the first act.

The show is on! 