"Welcome to Phantom Manor..."

Bacteria and germs, it’s been an honor serving in the Phantom Manor fandom for two years. But now it’s time I exchange one shade of purple for the other. If there’s one person I want to make proud, it’s the 7th grade version of me. 

Awww, this really warms my heart! Believe it or not I started this account when I was at the end of 16 years old so it’s been 2 years of good times. (This account has been inactive a few months before I turned 19.) I’ve grown up in and along side the fandom. I remember when I thought a PM movie was a good idea or when I did that massive meme roleplay hehehe. 

It’s really sweet of you to say that! I really appreciate it. I hope in my departure someone else’s stories, theories, headcanons and interpretations will be heard. Even if I’m technically not actively/publicly in the fandom, I’d be more than happy to hear them as well as support fanart or fanfiction <333  

I’ve had my eye on the Five Night’s at Freddy’s fandom for a while but I’m a bit scared ^^;;; I don’t think I’ve actively followed the fandom since I was in middle school or freshman year of high school? What I remember was that it was really weird and it was known for making inappropriate and “cringey” content. I guess as long as I conga line away from Twitter I’ll be fine >:3 (But I guess if I get cancelled then I can apply for sainthood...)

I don’t think I’ll be strictly sticking to being in one fandom. I think I like too many things to stay in one place. I’m like a kid in a toy store easily distracted by marketable plushies B) I’ll list things/fandoms I enjoy if anyone is interested! 

(I was supposed to post this on the 31st of December but I lost track of time.)

My departure comes from a lot of different places. 

Like most small fandoms, there’s the hype and the aftermath of that hype. The thing about Phantom Manor is that it’s a ride. Unlike a cartoon, video game franchise, or comic, it’s not something that gives new material to fans. And when it did *whispers* you know what happened. While I do appreciate and admire the work that takes to build an attraction with impressive immersion, I became bored of the source material. I admired the story very much for what it used to be but due to the fact that it’s basically a short story/urban legend, there wasn’t much room to be expanded upon. 

I don’t regret my time in the fandom, that’s for sure. Being the first fandom I officially joined and having a mostly positive experience, it holds a near and dear place in my heart. Especially the people who made it so in the first place. I’m thankful for you all. 

When it comes to me deciding to put a stop to RPing as both Phantom and Melanie, it comes from a source of guilt. Roleplaying as two different character who are also the most prominent eventually made me feel bad since other people are going to want to try their had RPing as both. I felt that I had taken the spotlight and left no room for different interpretations of the characters to be explored. 

It also came from the aforementioned boredom with the source material. I felt like I had gone too far with trying to make Melanie and Phantom filled to the brim with lore and fun facts that they started turning into different characters. It was like I just slapped a Disney sticker across something that was losing resemblance to the ride. The connection I had with the ride was slipping and I began to question if I was truly a Phantom Manor fan. I was even questioning if trying to make something grand out of a simple story made me happy. 

I still hold an affection for the ride but after years of dedicating my time to it as well as growing up and discovering new interests, I suppose it’s only natural that I feel this way. 

Considering I’m also a visual artist and people seemed very fond of my PM art, I started feeling like I had to forever and always drawing Melanie and the Phantom since that was the expectation. I love the ride, I really do, but being known as the “PM fangirl artist” isn’t something meant for me. I can’t accept the honor or the pressure. I’m honestly glad I didn’t turn out like one of those fans who realize they have no control over the thing they’re so obsessed with and dedicate their time to trying to destroy it. 

But despite my decision to end RPing as the two or drawing them, I’ve learned to never take for granted how special it is to have a group of people eager to learn about something you’ve made. 

I hope to find this experience in the next fandom I decide to join. 

A/N:

*steps onto the stage dressed like the Red Death and into the light with baby Phantom in my arms*

Tis I, xXDisneyFanGirlXx aka Beatriz Eve!

And I…

Have...

Finally…

Written…

My own Don Juan...

THE CAUGHT IN THE RAIN/SHARING A BED WITH PHANTOM FANFICTION!! Special fangs (get it cuz I’m goth/emo) to Kay (@mcurningbells) and Gaalad (@galaad-spectre) (/◕ヮ◕)/

*dances around the stage with baby Phantom before returning to my computer*

I am SUPER DUPER sorry that it took soooooooo long to write. I really wanted to make it sumthing special! The Phantom Manor/Haunted Mansion may be small, but all of your kindness and hearts are SO BIG! (*≧∀≦*)

*baby Phantom starts fussing and pulling on my hair*

Ah, looks like I have to get going. It’s time for my babby’s nappy time. He likes to fall asleep to the Black Parade album by My Chemical Romance. xD

No flames or I will find you, I will tell your parents, they will grounded you and give me all your personal balogneys, and then you WILL be SORRY! Flamers are NOT protected under da constitution!!

Okay everyone, I hope you like the story and get inspired to write some nice things about my writing!

｡ﾟ+.ヽ(´∀`*)ﾉ ﾟ+.ﾟ

                                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was morning time and the taxi driver had just dropped you off at your hotel. You needed something easy to get into and affordable so you chose the Tipton Hotel. (yes the one from Zack and Cody. It’s Disney so it’s connected to PM (ㆁωㆁ*))

“Thanks for the ride!” You cheerfully thanked the taxi driver, a blue skinny man with a large smile, bowler hat, and suit. “Here’s your tip.”

“Ay yo, forget about it. It’s just my job.” He smiled a bigger grin as he took the tip inside his suit pocket. “Remember if you need a good place to sit down and enjoy some tacos, Tacos El Gordo is your place. It’s up north, a bit to the left, look for a manhole, drop inside of it, speak to Master Splinter and the ninja turtles, tell them Erza sent you, and boom, you’re there. You can’t miss it. Here’s to you, kid!” the taxi driver explained before saying goodbye by tipping his hat to you. (fangs out to @sspyro7956!)

“I will, thank you so much!” you waved goodbye with both hands once he started to drive away. Picking up your luggage, you took a deep breathe as you walked the green carpeted steps outside the hotel. Unexpectedly, you were greeted by a chorus of bellhops in black and red uniforms.

“Welcome~ Welcome~ Welcome~” they backflipped over the silver gargoyle fountain and landed in front of you. It was awesome.

“Oh, thank you! I’m glad to be here.” you said as they took your luggage up to your room.

“Welcome to the Tipton Hotel!” the manager greeted as he enthusiastically ringed the bell on his desk. He had thick jet black hair with the bangs dyed blood red, to match the theme of the hotel, and snake bite piercings. He also had gages with Jack Skellington’s face on them in his ears. The silver name tag said Mr. Moseby and he was obviously an elder emo. “How can I be of service today?”

“Hello, sir. I’m here to check into my room today.” you answered.

“Why of course, I’m just going to need your name.”

“Your Name. Your Name Last Name.”

“Hmmm, that name sounds familiar... Are you- *GASP* ZACK! CODY! NO RUNNING IN MY LOBBY!” Mr. Moseby yelled at two twin boys wearing Green Day merchandise that were running around the lobby. “Uh, if you’ll excuse me.” He threw the keys (that looked a lot like Sora’s keys from Kingdom Hearts ;P) to the room at you before he ran after the children like a sad clown running away from the shackles of society.

With that, you took the shiny silver gothic expensive looking elevator up to your room. It was a simple enough room with a giant king sized bed with an elaborate black oak wood bed frame. It had multiple fluffy pillows packed with albino peacock feathers with bed sheets made from Eygptian silk. There was a jacuzzi filled with champagne. The window oversaw all of Las Vegas, making the night sky look like the Electric Parade at Disneyland or the inside of a snowglobe. The room smelled of money. If aliens were to look at the Earth from outer space and zoomed into the Tipton Hotel, they would have realized the room looked a lot like a fancy Victorian gothic rich man’s fancy rich watch. It was an awesome looking room but you could be even more awesome after a bit of a makeover.

To make the room feel a bit more like home, you hung up posters of Emily the Strange that you got at Hot Topic. Next, you took out your skelanimals plushies and put them in a neat row on the bed. Then, you started reading your favorite comic book series Lenore the Cute Little Dead Girl as you listened to Amy Lee’s cover of Sally’s Song from the Nightmare Before Christmas. After you were done reading your comic books, you went over to the plain and ornate and intricate golden vanity and sat down in the comfy chair and started to do your makeup like Gerard Way’s way in the music video for “Helena.” You painted your nails black for good measure as you watched your favorite movie Corpse Bride. The ending made you cry but not enough to ruin your drop dead amazing makeup. You looked just like Avril Lavinge but more emo. Finally, it was time to put on an outfit. Zipping open your luggage bag with skulls on it and trying to find an outfit amongst the clothes as you listened to Phantom of the Opera. You decided on a Batman t-shirt, black skinny jeans that were ripped in all the right places, black converse sneakers, and black fingerless arm warmers with gray stripes. Since it was a little cold outside, you put on your GIR hoodie to keep warm.

You were ready.

What was it that you were ready for?

To go GHOST HUNTING!!!!

Ever since you first saw an episode of Ghost Adventures and an episode of Invader Zim at the same time, you KNEW being a paranormal investigator was the job for YOU. And a ghost hunter you became. You had been to many places all over the country that claimed to hold the supernatural yet none had yielded results. Of course, you received critical acclaim for managing to convince 3/4ths of the country that ghosts were real with a mere recording of a spirit box but it just wasn’t enough.You were almost ready to give up… You were almost ready to give up until… you had heard of… the Phantom Manor…

A mysterious user on your account called I.M. Nottaphantom had commented that you should check out one last place near Las Vegas called the Phantom Manor. Once you had seen pictures of the house, your mind had been blown by the awesome gothic Victorian architecture. You didn’t know why… but you knew there was something SPECIAL about this supposedly haunted house in particular… Just something about it was almost welcoming... like an awesome restaurant that offered free warm bread… If it weren’t for the fact that the place was most likely filled with rats with rabies and didn’t have a toilet, you would have loved to live there.

Making your way towards the elevator, there was a scene girl with big fluffy black hair with pink and green streaks. On top of her head was a giant blue bow with a skull in the middle. She wore fur rainbow leg warmers over her knee high black converse shoes. Her shirt was blue with a ninja and she had black skinny jeans. Rubber and plastic bead bracelets were stacked on both arms that had black fishnet arm warmers. She gasped once you entered the elevator.

“0H 3M G33333333333, GURL! D4T 0UTF1T D03!” she squealed like a chipmunk on a parachute. “WH3R3 Y0U G01NG? 0N 4 H4WT D4T3?”

“Heh, yeah. I date with Death.” you quipped back.

The two of you laughed at the funny joke that only cool pizza loving people would understand.

“GURL, Y0U 50 FUNNY! R4WR xD! (that means I love you in dinosaur if you didn’t know) MY N4M3 15 L0ND0N T1PT0N 4ND MY D4DDY 0WNS D1S H0T3L!”

Ding! You two had reached the lobby.

“It was nice meeting you, London! See you later!” you merrily skipped toward the spinny door and into the Nevada air, confident and sure of yourself. Putting your headphones on, you blasted the Nightcore version of Angel of Darkness. The way to the haunted house wasn’t long but you knew life was better with a soundtrack.

Looking up in wonder, you were impressed with how big the house was. It didn’t look at all as you had seen online. It was… AWESOME! It didn’t look so bad and abandonded like most spooky houses. You didn’t know how anyone could miss such a massive and impressive house with the desert being so empty. Despite it being nighttime, you could tell the house had a naturally dark exterior and a French Victorian gothic look to it. The steps to the door looked sturdy enough. The doors to the house didn’t seem locked…

Suddenly and almost miraculously, it started…. RAINING?!?!

It was pouring and a clap of thunder had scared you. “Eek!” you screamed, afraid of thunder (sorry if you are not afraid of the weather but let’s just pretend kay kay? ;P) and ran off into the other direction foolishly looking for a tree or two to hide under. (there are no trees in the dessert silly!)

Realizing there was nothing but the cruelty of nature, you pulled out your phone to call a taxi. Unfortunately, your phone exploded!

Cold and soaking wet with your clothes drenched in rain water and no trees in sight, you started to cry black tears. You were lost in the middle of the desert, your phone and all the illegally downloaded songs were gone forever, and there was no one to help you! Not to mention you were totally going to wake up sick tomorrow and you had just booked tickets to see Criss Angel the magician! You were going to miss the event of a lifetime!!!

As all hope was lost, suddenly you heard a deep… devilishly handsome… sexy… awesome... voice.

“Oh, goodness gracious! Do you need help?”

“Yes! You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find a phone booth or a lodging somewhere?” you managed to speak.

“My home is nearby, but forgive me for I have no phone! You will have to stay overnight.” The figure with the seductive voice began to walk closer. You could make out (hehehe make out xD) that they were wearing a large trench coat and long hat.

“Thank you, you’re too kind!” Squinting your eyes, you couldn’t see the figure’s face. The rain was too strong, like if the angels were all aiming their water guns at you, to be able to see anything.

“Oh, really,” A flash of lightening flashed across their face, revealing it wasn’t a face at all… “The pleasure is all mine…”  

It was… a skeleton!

Almost immedietly, you fainted on the spot. The skeleton institicbly caught you before you feel and took you captive into his arms… and into… his house of horrors!

*cue the DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNN*

Riding a brown horse called Hopeful North and South Dakota, a bald eagle perches itself upon my 10 foot tall 10 gallon hat and lets out a might screech. I take off my ear buds. I was just listening to Dolly Parton. I enjoy her sounds. I care about her. I let out a sigh of relief. I have just made it to the barbeque. A guy in New Balances, a black button up with flames, cargo shorts, and dark sunglasses offers me a pizza. The guy is called Guy Fieri. I gladly accept it and thank him for his kindness. A man plays a spicy guitar riff. That man is Steve of Smash Mouth. I say yes. I look to the east. The Statue of Liberty. I look to the west. The Hollywood sign. In the middle is Mickey Mouse. He blows me a kiss. I tell him he is everything and that I owe him my life. He giggles. Someone has made themselves present. They alert of us of their presence with a marching band orchestra of Gold Finger’s hit song Superman. It’s none other than Tony Hawk. He arrives stake boarding. As though we were family, he pats my bald eagle and calls me kid. I stare at his Levi’s shirt and embrace him. I return to the pizza. I drown it in ranch dressing that can only be found locally. I consume it. Beyoncé shows up. She asks what do I prefer: a Coke or a Capri Sun? I say why not both. She laughs. The audience laughs. We all laugh. I am given both. Along comes Mike Myers with an apple pie with Ben and Jerry’s vanilla ice cream and whipped cream. He is eager to share. We all eat the pie loving made by Whole Foods. I have an idea. I share it with the others. We should go to Las Vegas and perceive a film. They find my thoughts to be wonderful and agree. We get into the limo with a jacuzzi. Our horses have their own limo and their own jacuzzi. We all let out a sigh of relief. We are in Las Vegas to perceive a film. We park our horses at the drive in theater and smile. There is more food. Each of us selects a hot dog, a Coke slushie, a bag of popcorn, licorice, M&M’s, and tickets to perceive the film. The film is Forrest Gump. It is a classic. Content and excited, we make our way in front of the screen. We are given 3D glasses. The movie starts. I look at the sky. I look at stars winking down on me as they spell my name. I look at my horse. I look at my hat with the bald eagle long gone away into slumber. It had built itself a nest. How nice. I look east then west. Statue of Liberty and Hollywood sign. In the middle is Mickey Mouse. He is my friend. I look at my friends. I let out a sigh of relief and think:

I love my classic movies, I love my sky, I love my donuts and coffee, I love my hamburgers with French fries, I love my amusement parks, I love my pancakes, I love my Nickelback, I love my boats and yachts and other various water equipment, I love baseball, I love my Mr. Rodgers, I love my RVs, I love my dogs in purses, I love my yoga pants, I love my frozen yogurt, I love my funny Sunday fat cats, I love my fried chicken, I love my rock bands from the 60s and 70s, I love my football, I love my chips of all flavors, I love my woodlands and my woodland creatures, I love my Rose Parade, I love my high school, I love my dogs in bandanas, I love my pool parties, I love my cheese, I love my malls, I love my golf, I love my swap meets and flea markets, I love my Walmart’s with McDonald’s inside of them, I love my Teeva’s, I love my Christmas, I love my cowboys and their steaks and loaded potato's, I love my summer camps, I love my Steve Irwin, I love my Levi’s jeans, I love my Cha Cha Slide, I love my The Simpsons and my funny cartoons, I love my lemonade, I love my Instagram, I love my funny cat videos, I love my babies being cute and occasionally naughty, I love my Michael Bublé and all the other musicians who love singing at Olive Garden, I love my brightly colored orange food, I love my hotels and my motels, I love my Halloween, I love my Betty White, I love my water sports, I love my astronauts and my moon, I love my Nascar, I love my horses, I love my funny road side attractions and museums, I love my condiments for my Subway sandwich, I love my Guitar Hero, I love my giant supermarkets, I love the suburbs, I love my Elvis music, I love my yard sales, I love my hipster supermarkets, I love my Bob Ross, I love my Chuck E. Cheese, I love my converse sneakers, I love my claw machine plushies, I love my As Seen on TV commercials, I love my Kidz Bop, I love my chocolate chip cookies, I love my tourists, I love my talking animal movies, I love my county fairs, I love my soda, I love my 50 states, I love my cheesecake, I love my Ross Dress For Less, I love my Justice, I love my Jojo Siwa, I love my basketball, I love my Frank Sinatra, I love my beaches and my lakes and other large bodies of water, I love my extreme sports, I love dollar stores, I love my Jesus, I love my world, I love my people, I love my family, I love me, myself, and I and I love my friends.  

When researching what the previous fans of PM were like, I began to wonder why there was a certain divide between American/English Speaking and the French/European/Understanding French sides when it came to interpretations of the ride. It is a generalization since there was people on the opposite sides who believed the opposite of the majority of their group but you catch my drift. 

I wondered if it had something to do with culture and that’s when I got thinking: “Did my culture influence the way I saw the ride?” 

My culture:

[ID: first picture is of two women in traditional dress at the haunted Island of Dolls, second picture is of the classic cholo shirts they sell at the swap meet, third picture is of a small Mexican girl dress like a scary nun while standing next to a piñata of a scary nun, fourth picture is of people dressed as diablitos for a traditional dance performance, fifth picture is of the evil super dramatic step mom from a famous telenovela, sixth picture is of small Mexican children happily posing next to Momo birthday decorations. Last image is just a joke.]

*sarcasm* Lmao no I don't think so xD

I think when you grow up with a bunch of kids begging to watch el Chucky or el Payaso all the time (Mexican kids are pretty hardcore in general), grandmas warning you about brujerias while they do brujerias, an abundance of the most dramatic of telenovelas, are threatened with the supernatural 24/7 but the only thing that scares you is your mother, you’re bound to come out a particular way. 

And that’s not to mention how vaquero/charro (cowboy) culture is a heavily important part of Mexico and Mexican identity. 

Now that I’ve written this down and analyzed it all, what drew me into Phantom Manor is how much I could see my own culture and heritage in the story. In hindsight, Phantom Manor is a story with lots of Mexican tropes.

It has it all: the romance, the melodrama, the vaqueros culture/background, the doomed lovers, the classist villain, Melanie’s operatic singing that are almost mariachi like, the bad things happening to people who are either terrible or innocent, the very folklore feel of the story, the supernatural, and of course, THE ARISTOCRATIC SKELETON.

When it comes to how I interpreted the story, I think I was still in my Phantom of the Opera stage. Before you ask or assume, I didn't really ship Christine with Erik. Sure I believed they both deserved to be happy, but I know they couldn't be if that stayed together. Also when I first discovered PM, it was through a video and I was half listening and all I heard was POTO ehehehehe ^^;;

When I heard the most likely explanation of the ride, ie Henry being the Phantom, I was a little disappointed in how the story was widely accepted. Because I'm a massive snob I thought it was boring and predictable. (No hate though, I've changed my view. Still a snob true and true though 😤😤😤)

After I realized nothing was confirmed to be canon and I could interpret my own story, my culture and what I happened to be into at the moment came into play. I perceived it to be a story about an evil entity obsessed/infatuated with a pretty rich girl who were both doomed inside the house to pay for their respective sins. (Just because I thought Phantom to have a sort of thing for Melanie didn't mean I condoned the ship 😤😤😤)

I suppose growing up with stories where the bad guy was in love with the heroine, doomed lovers, the highest of high stakes, and people being punished with the supernatural is what swayed me.

This isn't me trying to pin the blame on my culture and heritage for being totally disappointed last year. It's the opposite. I'm celebrating that something I enjoy speaks to me than more on the surface level than being gothic and cool and edgy and mysterious.

Phantom Manor, despite it all, is a Mexican story or at the very least, a story that speaks to more than just white Americans and Europeans.

Nothing can talk that away from me. Not even the racists who would probably claim that I'm brownwashing or that "sTop mAkING evERyThiNG aBoUt rAcE, iTs nOT thAt dEEp! yOu hAvE cOcO, isN't tHaT enoUgH?" I don't claim or think that the Ravenswoods or Jake or anyone would be "fixed" or "better" if they weren't all white. (Assume that and I'm pickling your toe nail clippings and feeding them to you 😤😤😤)

*looking at Ouija Board in a dark room* 

Phantom: “What does it say?”

Melanie: “Will Brian ask me out tomorrow?” 

Phantom: “Not-ever-going-to-happen. I tire of these infantile questions, when does the real haunting begin?” 

Melanie: “I’m not sure. When do you plan on moving out?” 

Phantom: -_-