WEEK 4

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Tadashi, Sophie, and Princess Anna are dead. By now, maybe you're realizing that this plays is way more dangerous than you have ever feared, but don't worry, maybe some hope will come along the way.

For example, if anyone tries to open the Conservatory Door leading outside starting this week, they'll find that they finally have access to the graveyard and outside. You are now freely able to leave the mansion whenever you want.

Maybe you can all finally leave this place...?

20 guests remain.]

[SUNDAY MONDAY TUESDAY WEDNESDAY THURSDAY]

 

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Comments

[toogoodforhim]

[He's speechless at the "my boy," and he doesn't have the excuse of alcohol to explain the way he flushes pink from his ears to his neck when he looks up at his face.]

Coot? When did I ever imply you were such a thing?

[As the song comes to an end, he ends the dance with a gracious bow.]

[sixfingeredstan]

The turn of phrase is entirely my own, I assure you.

[Ford returns the bow with a sweeping gesture, and then catches Lefou's hand and places a brief kiss atop it in a fit of pique.]

Thank you for the dance, m'sieur. Vous êtes très charmant.

[Listen, he knows a few languages.]

[toogoodforhim]

[His breath catches in his chest at the kiss to his hand, that brief flushing falling flying feeling that he had at the ball when Stanley had traded partners and ended up straight in his arms.

Ohhhhhh mon dieu.

Merde, he's fucked.]

I'm flattered, such a compliment coming from a man so handsome and charming as you.

[sixfingeredstan]

[Look at this boy. Look at him. He's so adorable. Ford needs to find him a nice suitable young man to pair up with, because he deserves so much more than a frankly slutty old man.]

Who's the flatterer now?

[He straightens up with a beaming smile on his face. He feels almost young again.]

[toogoodforhim]

[Honestly...With those muscles right at his eye level.........]

Still you, I'm afraid. I just have perfectly functional eyes.

[How long's it been since you had a sweet bear cub flirting with you, Ford?]

[sixfingeredstan]

[Ford shakes his head slowly, his smile fading into a smirk.]

Delusional, you are. You've clearly had far too much rum.

[It's been far, far too long.]

[toogoodforhim]

Maybe I just know a good thing when I see one.

[sixfingeredstan]

Are you sure about that?

[Ford leans in close, murmuring in Lefou's ear.]

I'm old enough to be your grandfather, you know.

[toogoodforhim]

You are not. My father, maybe.

[sixfingeredstan]

[Ford shakes his head, slow, smirking, and pulls back.]

I'll be seventy next year.

[toogoodforhim]

I'll be thirty at the harvest moon, so you would've had to get an early start to be my grandfather.

You know, you're pretty spry for sixty-nine.

[sixfingeredstan]

If I had a son at twenty, and he had a son at twenty, it'd work. Which, I wager in your time, isn't so uncommon.

[Ford smirks down at the younger man.]

I keep myself plenty busy, so I've stayed in decent shape.

[toogoodforhim]

Mm, I can see that. [In regard to the staying in shape thing. Pick somebody who'd had a decent father figure in his life if you want to ward him off with your age.]

It's not unusual for a man my age to be unmarried or childless, either. You know, bachelor status aside and everything.

[Nobody bat an eye at Gaston fresh into his thirties chasing a 20-year-old.]

[sixfingeredstan]

[Look, give him some credit. He's trying. If Fiddleford weren't here...well, different story.]

Well, I suppose some things never change. But my point remains: I'm much too old for a delightful lad like you.

[toogoodforhim]

If you insist.

[Even the elation of being free to flirt, of being flirted with, can't disguise a rejection forever.]

Still, you're a wonderful dance partner. Any man who is old enough for you is all the luckier for it.

[sixfingeredstan]

[He chuckles, and reaches out to give Lefou a little jostle on the shoulder, a kind look on his face.]

Likewise, my friend.