Post by moria on Mar 9, 2008 21:57:22 GMT -5
The ballroom of the Opera House Populaire was probably the most gorgeous room in the building. At least it was when there was a gala, or some important event happening in it. For the majority of the year when not in use it was the simpler of the foyer and auditorium. That just wouldn’t do for Madame Darling. In her opinion the ballroom should be the grander and used more often. The backstage and rooms that the audience never see should be the only places that collect dust. Not that it wasn’t kept up, it was spotless! Somewhat.
Running her cream white hand along the railing Moria could spot places that were less then shining. Glancing around the room, that reminded her of her own ballroom at home, she took mental notes on what needed to be brought up with the managers and other patrons. The floor needed polishing, paint needed to been refreshed, and was that a cloudy spot on the glass hanging from the candlesticks? Unacceptable! Moria thought staring at the little teardrop bobble.
When the Opera House had burned down she had been crushed, now that it was rebuilt she was going to make sure that it was more ravishing and revered than ever before! Any flaw she’d take care of double-quick before anyone knew it was there. Whether it is a detail or even a performer. No one will be talking about the Royal Opera House in London or even La Fenice in Venice.
With her heels clicking on the marble floor she walked around without a thing missing her keen eye. Seeing her in such a serious mood was uncommon of most days, but this was business that had her name on it. So of coarse she must make it perfect. “Do they just spiff it up right before they use it?” Moria said out to herself with her nose crinkling up a bit at the stuffy smell of no ventilation. “Surely not.” She spoke again thinking that now they had more wealth patronage then when her uncle owned it.
Running her cream white hand along the railing Moria could spot places that were less then shining. Glancing around the room, that reminded her of her own ballroom at home, she took mental notes on what needed to be brought up with the managers and other patrons. The floor needed polishing, paint needed to been refreshed, and was that a cloudy spot on the glass hanging from the candlesticks? Unacceptable! Moria thought staring at the little teardrop bobble.
When the Opera House had burned down she had been crushed, now that it was rebuilt she was going to make sure that it was more ravishing and revered than ever before! Any flaw she’d take care of double-quick before anyone knew it was there. Whether it is a detail or even a performer. No one will be talking about the Royal Opera House in London or even La Fenice in Venice.
With her heels clicking on the marble floor she walked around without a thing missing her keen eye. Seeing her in such a serious mood was uncommon of most days, but this was business that had her name on it. So of coarse she must make it perfect. “Do they just spiff it up right before they use it?” Moria said out to herself with her nose crinkling up a bit at the stuffy smell of no ventilation. “Surely not.” She spoke again thinking that now they had more wealth patronage then when her uncle owned it.