Well, this was tricky. I'm not sure what I was thinking trying to do this. But that's what this is all about right? Seeing what we can come up with, trying different things?
I have tweaked a lot of stuff here, taken a lot of liberties. Oh, and for those of you who wanted to see Clark in this story
...Also, I couldn't decide which 'reveal' to use, stage or movie, so I did both. If anyone has a preference, let me know
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Obviously not all the kinks have been worked out yet. We'll see as it goes along how many more parallels I can find.
As always, I love fdk,
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"The Phantom of the Planet"
“Speak, my Angel of Words!” he commanded.
Not taking her eyes off him, she spoke. “He’s there, the Phantom of the Planet!”
“Speak!” he shouted.
And then suddenly…Was she singing?? She must have been, because out of her own mouth came this sound, and all around her appeared words, words she’d never seen, words that didn’t exist, words to describe other words, her voice going higher and higher, the Angel of Words, commanding her again and again to speak, his own voice growing more insistent.
As he commanded her, he moved about the dreamscape, his appearance changing; he removed his cape from his shoulders, draping it over what looked like a couch or bed partially hidden behind some ice columns, then disappeared behind a larger column, and when he reemerged the rest of his suit was gone, replaced by dark dress clothes. Black dress pants, a long-sleeved black dress shirt and a white tie made his dark hair and eyes even more so. As her voice rose, he ran a hand over his hair, leaving it slightly disheveled, then ran that hand over his tie, smoothing it down.
“Speak, my Angel of Words! Speak for ME!!!” he finally cried, as her voice went higher than she’d ever heard it. Finally she stopped, exhausted, catching her breath and closing her eyes against the magnificence around her. Behind her, leaning over a glass table strewn with papers and a black laptop, he began to explain emphatically why he’d taken her from the newsroom.
“I have brought you, to the heart of words’ sweet throne, to this fortress where all must pay homage to writing. Writing,” he repeated slowly, drawing it out. “You have come here, for one purpose and only one. From the moment I saw you and read your work, I have needed you with me to write for me and now, my words…” he paused, looking at her, himself hypnotized by her very presence. “My words…” Then his voice became heartbreakingly soft.
“The nighttime sharpens, heightens all sensations, the darkness stirs, and wakes the imagination.” He brought his finger to his lips in a ‘quiet’ gesture. “Silently the senses, will abandon all defenses…” he trailed off softly, waving his hand, and still under his spell, she turned away slowly to face the stars. He continued his ‘serenade’, slowly coming up behind her.
“Slowly, gently, the night unfurls her splendor; grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender.”
She sensed him behind her and craned her head, but only got a glimpse of his face before he turned slightly, blocking her view, and pressed his right hand to her cheek, turning her face from his.
“Turn your face away, from the garish light of day!” He then placed his fingers under her chin, pulling her back. “Turn your thoughts away from such cold, unfeeling light,” he instructed, bringing their faces so close they could have kissed. Then just as quickly, he pulled away again, slightly startling her, and raised his hand and his gaze towards the stars, her own eyes automatically following. “And listen to the many words of the night!” He moved away again, and she looked up, almost unseeing at the stars.
“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams! Purge all thoughts of the life you knew before!” he pleaded, and she felt herself being pulled even further from everything that was familiar, deeper into his world. Then his voice was close again. “Close your eyes, let your fiery spirit start to soar!”
She closed her eyes in ecstasy, breathing deeply, feeling as if she herself was now flying.
“And you’ll live a life, you’ve never lived before,” he explained softly. Opening her eyes, she turned around, determined to fully see him, but noticed that, although he was now directly facing her, his eyes were obscured, and she couldn’t see his face completely.
“Softly, deftly, the words shall caress you. Hear them, feel them, secretly possess you,” he continued, gesturing for her to follow him as he turned and walked a few feet away. “Open up your mind, let all your fantasies unwind,” he said, raising his arms over his head, then lowered them, palms down, as if commanding an imaginary gate to come down, Lois right behind him. Then he turned to face her, his gazing roaming the fortress. “In this near darkness which you know you cannot fight…”
Drawn to him by the power of his presence and the sheer beauty of the fortress, she approached him, closer, closer, until their faces were only inches apart. Then suddenly, overcome with uncertainty, she spun and walked quickly back to where she came from, as he continued. “The darkness of the many words of the night.”
She stood perfectly still, facing away from him, frozen in both excitement and fear, knowing that as he spoke, he was coming closer and closer.
“Let your mind start a magnificent journey through a strange, new world! Leave behind all thoughts of the world you knew before! Let your soul take you where you so long to be!” he cried, his voice rising in intensity.
She could almost feel him, he was so close. It was as if he had an…aura…that was actually reaching out to envelope her, making her heart pound wildly and her head spin.
“Only then, can you belong to me…” he murmured seductively in her ear. She turned briefly to look in his eyes, and he brought his hand up to cup her cheek in his palm. Her lids slid closed in unbearable emotion, so she pulled away, and then thought she would pass out when his arm wrapped around her neck, his hand splaying against the hollow of her shoulder in a tender embrace. Feeling weak, she leaned into his arm as he pulled her gently against his chest. She could feel the heat of his body, even though they were surrounded by ice. It permeated her, sending the blood pounding through her veins as they began to sway together softly, side to side.
“Floating, falling, such sweet intoxication!”
Then he held them still, and feeling weightless, she wondered dimly if they were, in fact, floating.
“Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation,” he tempted, and she did, succumbing to the maddening desire to touch him, reaching up with her right hand to caress his face. But she only got as far as his cheek, when he suddenly grabbed her hand, breaking the intimate spell. She spun to face him as he pulled from her, holding their joined hands outstretched between them, pulling her with him.
(stage reveal)
“Let our dream begin, let your darker side give in, to the power of the words that I write.” Then he released her hand, and she found herself standing in front of something hidden behind a large black curtain. “The power of the many words of the night!” he finished triumphantly, grabbing the curtain and pulling it away to reveal a large mirror. Lois took a startled step back, taking in the mirror with its broken glass. But what got her attention was the reflection. It wasn’t a reflection at all; standing inside the mirror was…her!
A life-size mannequin that looked exactly like her, adorned in a beautiful white wedding dress and lacy veil, clutching a bouquet. Lois’ eyes widened in astonishment, but her curiosity got the better of her and she took a couple steps forward to get a better look, her hand outstretched. Suddenly, her doppelganger came to life, spreading her arms apart, and bent over at the waist, clutching the bouquet in one hand.
Terrified, Lois fainted, vaguely aware of the Phantom lifting her into his arms before she could fall.
The Phantom held his Angel in his arms, his fast reflexes having caught her before she could hurt herself. Her reaction at seeing the mannequin had surprised him; he thought she would have been flattered. Perhaps it had all been too much for her, he thought as he carried her the few paces to the ‘bed’, an assortment of pillows arranged on a small ice shelf and covered with a thick blanket. He gently laid her down, setting her dark head carefully against the pillows. He then pulled his cape from the foot of the bed, draping it reverently over her, making sure she was warm enough. He knelt beside her, smoothing an errant strand of hair from her forehead, barely grazing his fingers over her skin.
“You alone can make my words take flight,” he began, then stood and stepped away from the bed. Turning to face the night sky, he directed to the stars his plea to his Angel. “Help me write the words of the night!” he finished softly, just as a cloud passed over the moon, shrouding the fortress in darkness.
(movie reveal)
“Let our dream begin, let your darker side give in, to the power of the words that I write,” he coaxed as he took her hand in his, and led her to an alcove hidden behind one or two columns of ice. Strange, she hadn’t noticed that when they’d first arrived. Still holding her hand in one of his, he placed his other hand at the small of her back to nudge her forward, their gazes locked. Finally, she turned her gaze from his face to look into the alcove…and saw herself staring back. A life-size mannequin of her, smiling serenely at Lois, stood wearing a beautiful white wedding dress and long lacy veil. The silent message this conveyed about her Angel’s intentions sent her into shock, and she fainted, falling against him.
The Phantom easily caught Lois when she fainted, and gathered her effortlessly into his arms. He calmly walked the few steps up a small staircase to another small room in which he’d specially placed a ‘bed’, an assortment of pillows arranged in a hollowed out section of ice covered with his cape. He knelt on the edge, and gently laid her down, settling her comfortably, setting her dark head carefully against the pillows.
“You alone can make my words take flight,” he murmured, gazing lovingly at her sleeping face and drawing his fingers across her jaw tenderly. “Help me write the words of the night,” he finished, straightened and stood, then walked slowly out of the room to watch over her through the columns, his shadow silhouetted by the light of the moon.
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She awoke slowly, disoriented and confused. Where was she? She tried to think back; she gave a speech at the Kerths, told Jimmy the story of the Angel of Words, Lex tried to take her to dinner, but…then it came back to her in a rush. The window, the lights, the wind, the ice fortress, and him! She hadn’t imagined it. Her Angel of Words had come for her, taken her from the newsroom, and to his world. His world which had glittered and sparkled in the moonlight, and he had spoken so beautifully to her about his writing, making him seem almost like a true angel. But something had happened, something which had ended their magical night together.
“I remember a cloudy mist, swirling mist and the sky was a lake.” She pushed away the blanket that covered her and sat up. “I saw all these candles down below and sparkling stars up above, and I was in the arms of a man…” she turned her head, trailing off when she saw him. Her heart leapt slightly at the sight of her Angel. But more than his clothes had changed this time. Now he was sitting at his glass table, his black laptop in front of him, a pencil in his mouth, typing frenetically. She got out of the bed and walked slowly towards him.
“Who was that dark shape in the shadows? Whose is the face that he masks?” she wondered aloud, reaching repeatedly for his glasses. Each time she reached forward, he moved just out of her reach, leaning over for a piece of paper, or to glance through a notepad. Ever determined to see what lay behind his disguise, she reached out again, and before he could move away, she grabbed the glasses and pulled them from his face. She recoiled in shock. Then everything happened in a blur of motion. Suddenly his calm demeanor vanished; he immediately covered his face, and began screaming in fury.
“Aaagghhh! Damn you! You nosy little, prying Pandora!” He jumped up from the desk and went after her, chasing her around the fortress in anger. “You little demon! Is this what you wanted to see?” he demanded angrily, furious that he hadn’t been fast enough to stop her from removing his disguise, but angrier that he constantly had to hide his true self, especially from her.
“Curse you! You little digging Delilah! You little viper, now you cannot ever be free!”
She ran fearfully from this man who had been her Angel, slipping on a spot on the icy floor and falling. He towered over her frightened form, his anger at her mixing with his own sadness.
“Damn…you!!!” he screamed, then unable to bear her eyes on him any longer, he ran to the other side of the fortress, facing away from her. “Curse…you!” he cried, though it came out more a whimper. He stood there, his back to her, breathing tiredly. After a moment her terror from before began to lessen, and she sat up, and simply watched him. Finally, after another moment, he turned, his expression sad.
“Stranger than you dreamt it, can you even dare to look or bare to think of me; this loathsome liar, who burns in his own hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly…secretly…” he bowed his head, his shoulders slumping over, and shook his head sadly. “Lois…” he whispered.
Then suddenly he turned, and realizing belatedly how badly he’d frightened her before, approached her slowly, keeping his voice soft, so as not to startle her again. But he still couldn’t completely face her, and there was a hint of desperation in his voice.
“Fear can turn to love, you’ll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster, this…”
A pained look came over her tear-stained face at his words, and pity surged through her at how some people had treated him.
“…divided stranger, who some see as a beast but who secretly dreams of beauty,” at this confession, he ventured to look at her out of the corner of his eye, then looked away again, “secretly…secretly…” he then turned, and finally looked right into her eyes. “Oh, Lois…” he finished in an agonized whisper.
Lois bowed her own head, being close to tears for her Angel. She hadn’t meant to run in fear from him like that. It was just the shock of seeing what was behind the glasses. But his face didn’t frighten her; it was just the realization of what he hid behind the disguise. And then what he’d just said hit her. Did he really think of himself as a monster? Is that how he’d been made to feel? Is that how *she* made him feel? It sickened her that anyone could think her Angel of Words ugly, or threatening. It angered her. But, she realized, whatever his reasons for wearing his ‘mask’, he had a right to his dignity.
Looking down, she saw his glasses lying on the floor next to her hand, having dropped them when she fell. She picked them up, and gingerly held them out to him. He saw her arm extended towards him, his glasses in her hand, and quickly took them from her, placing them back on his face. He then reached for her, taking her hands in his and pulled her to her feet.
“Come, we must return. That monstrous fool who runs the paper will be missing you.”
to be cont....
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