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Post by Liana Marceau on Jun 1, 2008 5:03:26 GMT -5
Thank goodness practice was over. Liana couldn't stand it today. The opera wasn't very chorus oriented. She didn't have a large part thank goodness. She was probably the only person in the populaire who tried not to get large parts. It may be strange for other people to fathom, but honestly, Liana tried to be mediocre in hopes that she would stay in the employment of the opera house and on the stage, but be just good enough to stand in the background. Of course, she knew she could do better. Her secret family knew, her mother had known, she was sure Monsieur Reyer had a small inkling of how good she truely could be but she would never reveal it. Being in the spotlight was not safe after all. That is why she wore full face masks and did not talk during masks. She would rather be silent and unknown than back where she started after all. Besides, it would not serve her mother's sacrifice to be pushed back from the guilded cage she had escaped.
There were advantages to being in the background too. People left you alone. You were not a part of the trouble and therefore were not noticed when there was an accident on stage or you were not pin pointed when the harmonies were off. By being invisible you were not entered into the petty squables of the ballet or chorus girls. There was no stress of competition. No attention of any stagehands which may have been one of Liana's favorite advantages. But first and foremost it meant Patrons didn't see you and therefore Liana knew her secret was safe.
Today's practice proved the advantage to being invisible. The diva, Christine, was still a bit out of sorts. She was having trouble playing Juliet in the mysteriously comissioned rendition of the opera Romeo and Juliet. She was still marvelous of course and her voice was clear and bell like, but it wasn't magical as it used to be. There was a little less sparkle and passion in her voice where most would expect more. Hadn't she just married after all and for love. Everyone knew she and the Comte were in love. They had to be to anger the phantom thusly. It was a fairytale for any chorus or ballet girl. A legend! Still, Monsiuer Reyer was getting impatient as was the chorus director Formorian and the chorus itself. Not that they were much better than the diva. The harmonies in the songs were a wreak, but as she was invisible, she was never picked on to take the blame.
The one that had truely taken the blame was the diva and all the principals in the opera had been in a foul mood over her and the opera itself. It seemed not many liked Romeo and Juliet. Liana personally never understood it. She never understood why a woman would kill herself for a man or betray for a man. That is what she was reading about right now after all. The English rendition of the Tales of King Arthur. She greatly enjoyed them but was disturbed the the lack of happiness in the marriage. She knew marriages were not meant to be happy things, especially not for the upper class, but enough so that there was an affair? Not even her own mother had an affair and her situation had been far worst than Queen Guieneviere's. Liana only read for the stories of the quests and she did that any chance she could get.
For the most part, Liana found that if she had a book in front of her nose, no one could pester her. It was for that reason she picked it up and read on the way from the rehersal to the foyer of the Populaire and then, when she was forced to move by the cleaning staff, read the book while walking to do the silent crevies that were offered back stage. She knew she would be safe by the costumes for no one came up there once the work day was over as it was now. Besides, the costumes would hide her and she could read without even being seen, invisible just the way she liked it.
The story she was reading now was her favorite yet too. It had to do with Gawain and a riddle about what women truely wanted. So far it had been exciting, and interesting. She found herself debating so much about what she would answer to such a question, that she even tripped and fell down the steps she was trying to climb leading to the second story of backstage. She squeeled slightly, her precious book flying out of her hands as she fell tumbling backwards waiting for the familiar harsh landing that the wooden floors offered her so often.
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Post by Marius Rousseau on Jun 1, 2008 5:06:16 GMT -5
It had been a trying day at practice. Naturally, he was playing Romeo against Christine de Chagny, which was quickly becoming rather trying. He had heard her sing before the opera had been forced to close, and she had sounded so angelic he would have given anything to sing with her, but now? Now, her voice seemed to lack a certain luster, though it was still good and far better than any other that he had heard, though he was usually too caught up in listening to his intonation and vocal quality to pay attention to the chorus when at practice, waiting for his cues and doing what was called on for him to do. It didn't help that Countess de Chagny was married. It was rather awkward to have to play a romantic role with someone who had a husband who could grow a little jealous depending on how things went. He knew he would never have an interest in the former Mademoiselle Daae, but still.
After practice, the young man had gone backstage, wandering around aimlessly. There was nothing else for him to do today, and he wasn't in the mood to go outside. He just wanted to go where he knew he wouldn't spot families or lovers or other people of any sort for that matter. Verily, back here might be the occasional stagehand, but he had nothing to fear from them so long as he stayed out of their way. He minded his own business and wandered quietly, deciding as he approached a set of stairs to climb them. Perhaps he would head up towards the roof and spend some time there, watching the view that overlooked the city. It was just a way to pass time. However, fate seemed to have something else in mind for him.
Marius was one to frequent backstage as well. However, it seemed that they must have always chosen different areas, for he did not recognize the young woman that came tumbling down the stairs. He had half a mind to leap out of the way to avoid being knocked over, but chivalry said otherwise. Besides, he was on the fourth step. He couldn't easily jump away unless he wanted to risk a twisted ankle, which simply wouldn't be good. Though, if he stayed here, he could get hurt worse. Maybe if he squished himself against the wall and railing? But then she could get hurt, and what would that say of him? He compromised, stepping to the side and pressing his back against the wall and reaching out, catching the young woman in his arms.
He heard something make a loud sound as it hit the floor, hoping it wasn't something of importance to the opera or well, this young woman would be in some trouble. It didn't sound like a prop, though, or even like something had broken, so maybe not. As soon as he was sure the young woman was stable, he let go of her, helping her into a standing position before walking back down the four steps between him and the thing that had fallen, leaning over and picking it up, walking back to the stairs and handing it to her with a polite smile. "I believe you dropped this, mademoiselle."
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Post by Liana Marceau on Jun 1, 2008 5:09:43 GMT -5
There was a reason when she had first joined the Opera Populaire that she knew and Madame Giry knew that she could never be considered for the ballet. When she had tried out for the infamous dance corps she had tripped when walking onto the stage and when trying a basic combination she had taken down three or four competitors. She had not even made it past the first thirty minutes of the trials much less the first cut. She was the only girl to try out for the populaire that had ever been cut before the first cut. It was embaressing, but thank goodness only herself madame giry and monsieur Reyer remembered that incident. She had blended into the chorus well enough that most people didn't even notice her from that much less the tryouts.
Now, it seemed her clumbsiness was getting her into trouble once again. Stairs had never been her forte and it seemed today they were not much better than usual. In fact, as she felt hersel falling down the stairs in a quite familiar way, Liana ventured they were much worse than usual, as was the long fall down. However, Liana found herself waiting for the flood and never really felt it. She never really felt anything besides a quick drop of air and then two solid things holding her up. She paused for a minute, breathing slowly to calm herself after the fall. One eye opened, and then the other quickly followed both widening to see a man holding her.
Of all things this had to happen. More than half of Liana wished she could have just fallen. Falling would have been so much easier. Now she had to talk, and say something. She could have fallen in grace and put herself back together but to have to do it with a man watching. Well, she wasn't sure if she could even say thank you much less do that. At least he had set her on her feet quickly enough. She glanced up at him nervously a few times, like a frightened deer, her eyes still wide at the fact she had been caught.
Nervously Liana bit her lip and gently took the book from his hands. Of course, it didn't help that she knew who he was. He was the principal tenor. He was the best male singer in the opera. He was Romeo. Of course, she had never even stood near him before much less talked to him. The only people that talked to him were people with named parts and Monsieur Reyer. Madame Giry and the mangers too occasionally and patronesses, but never her. She wouldn't dare. She didn't want to. She never had an inkling to despite the fact that most girls would kill for the chance to talk to him much less be caught by him. Then again Liana was not most girls.
For one thing, Liana was sure that most girls wouldn't stand on the stairs clutching their returned book with wide innocent eyes and their mouth hanging open. Liana knew not to do that. She had proper breeding after all, but all this time away from that world and she had lost the habit. She had lost most proper habits. Liana nodded and bit her lip slightly before venturing a hurried nervous glance up at Romeo. "I-I...I...Th...Yes, Thank you." It had all come out very quick. He must think her a fool and yet most people did so she didn't care. In fact, she knew she didn't care which is possibly why she set about running down the last for steps and this time tripping on the last one.
This time the floor met her. She blushed brightly and brushed herself off. She had heard her book go flying again. She had heard it land but for the life of her she couldn't see it. It was in the middle of her favorite story yet too! It seemed that this situation couldn't be much worse. He was probably still watching too. That didn't help. That didn't help at all.
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Post by Marius Rousseau on Jun 1, 2008 5:11:55 GMT -5
Marius was a little confused by the chorus girl's stuttering, but he didn't let it show. He had no intention of causing her to feel even more uncomfortable than she rather obviously already did. Was it him or simply the fact that he had seen her fall down a flight of stairs? He would be embarassed if the role had been reversed. Maybe it was a combination of both? At any rate, he nodded slightly as well as adding in response, "You're welcome." He watched as she walked down the stairs, realizing much too late to warn her that she was about to fall. He stumbled forward to try to catch her again and spare her the pain falling against the floor was sure to cause unless she was made of wood. However, she was down for the count before he could catch her, and he was laying across her body.
He lay there in shock a few moments before scrambling up to his feet and dusting off his front before extending his right hand to the young lady. "I'm sorry. I-I was only trying to-to catch you." After she was up, regardless if she took his hand or not, he went back to dusting himself off, though there really was little to dust. It was more to give him something to distract himself. Poor girl. Not only did she fall down the stairs twice but she also was practically attacked by him, though he certainly hadn't meant to do so, and he was pretty sure she knew that. He hoped she knew that, anyway. He wasn't one of those sick men who did whatever he could to touch a lady; he really wasn't, and he was pretty sure that the fact that he had made sure not to touch her when getting up had made that clear. He hoped.
Imagine the gossip that could spread if someone were to have seen them. That would not be good. The male lead and a chorus girl. Heh. He supposed he really should count his blessings when saying that no one was anywhere around to have witnessed it because the gossips probably wouldn't have cared that he was off her within moments after falling on her and that nothing had happened or come remotely close to happening. She was a stranger, and he was not that sort of man, despite the few women that would try to interest him from time to time. He sighed and rolled back his shoulders as he looked to the pretty girl, apologizing again. "I'm sorry. I was only trying to catch..."
He trailed off mid-sentence, realizing she didn't have her book. Looking for the book was a good distraction from the embarassment she surely was feeling because he was certainly feeling slight embarassment, evidenced by the slight tinge of pink in his cheeks, though in the relative darkness one would be hard-pressed to have noticed. "Your book," he said rather pointlessly as he began to look around, avoiding her gaze. The thing couldn't have gotten far. It had only flown from her arms, after all, not grown wings and taken off. He glanced around the place before walking towards the direction that made the most sense for it to have flown off in. Yes, searching really was a good distraction at a moment like this.
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Post by Liana Marceau on Jun 1, 2008 5:13:08 GMT -5
Liana had never been afraid of falling. Even as a young lady of good breeding she had horrible balance and grace. As she grew older and taller she never really got used to it as evidenced by her lack of grace among the other memebers of the chorus and her current state flying down the stairs for the second time. This time she knew she would hit the ground. She could not expect one man to catch her twice after all and not expect something for it. She would not give him anything for it. She was resolved to not deal with the whims of men. She had been thusly resolved since she was a little girl and it would never change.
And yet, here, in the middle of this opera house, a man was on top of her. She was sure it was not intentional. He seemed kind enough no matter how important and well off he was in this buisness. He had caught her once and had probably fallen trying to catch her a second time. She did not deserve that. She should not have fallen twice in a row like that. It made her feel foolish and she knew better than to try to hurry down stairs like that. Hurrying was half the reason for a great deal of her accidents. It had helped her into this mess, but somehow she was too shocked to hurry out of this mess, after all, it was not often that she was found on her back with a man on top of her; way to stay inconspicuous.
Lying there, horrified at the man on top of her, even as he sprang up, Liana could do nothing. He rose up off of her gracefully as she never could and chivelrous as the men in her books, offered her his hand. Liana stared, open mouthed for a moment as he appologized to her; the simple foolish girl who was the cause of all of this. No one appologized to her. No one even knew who she was much less was willing to help her up! She did not take the hand of course. She didn't trust a man's hand no matter how kind she was sure the owner was.
Slowly, shaking off the pain from her fall, Liana pushed herself back up to a standing position. She lowered her head and eyes. He was appologizing to her and it still didn't make sense. It was almost as if...as if...as if he was just as embaressed as she was. Liana smiled softly for a moment, the blush of her embaressment showing brightly upon both of her cheeks. She kept her head down as he begged her forgiveness again and shook her head, "It was my fault Monsieur."
He had drifted off as she said that and brought up something very important: her book. Liana's eyes widened and she let out a gasp. She nodded and started thoroughly searching the area rather than speaking to the gentleman any more. She searched every where. It could not have gone far, but still, she wished to find it. She wished to find it because that book was her world right now. She wanted the answer to the riddle. She knew what her answer would be, but she wanted to see if that was the answer for all women. She would not be suprised if it was. Perhaps if that one thing was given then she would not feel so embaressed or perhaps be so clumsy. She needed that book. Then she could escape, and that was so badly waht she wanted at the moment.
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Post by Marius Rousseau on Jun 1, 2008 5:21:20 GMT -5
Marius said nothing as the girl he did not know said it was her fault. He didn't wish to start an argument, though he easily could have had he had the whim. However, he chose to bring up the book, which she seemed to have only just realized was missing as he mentioned it. He smiled slightly to himself as he looked from her to the ground, searching for the book. That gasp and wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression she seemed to so often have was cute. He wanted to laugh, but he did not allow himself that liberty. She would think he was laughing at her and he liked to think he was laughing because of her since he certainly would not have meant it in a meanspirited way. It merely was not an expression he often saw on the faces of the oft-stuffy girls of the opera. This one seemed different than most he had actually interacted with, and he liked it. He liked it a lot. If only he could get out more than a few words to her.
Where was the dumb book? It had to be somewhere. He needed to know what it was called. Perhaps he had read it? Maybe he could talk about it with her. It would give him an excuse to actually talk to her, anyway, and get her name. He was almost certain she at least knew his first name. Monsieur Remy had called it a few times today. So, he didn't want to say, "I'm Marius Rousseau. What's your name, Mademoiselle?" It would sound a little stupid, and he didn't want her to think him a brilliant singer (Unless, of course, she happened to dislike his voice, which was always possible. One voice could be liked by most but hated by some, after all.) but not very bright-minded. But, if he had to resort to that or small talk to get to talk to her, he would. The book was, in a way, small talk, after all, only he viewed it as having some purpose.
He continued to search through the place, finally nearly falling himself as his foot hit something, that something making a sound as it flew across the floor. His footsteps fell heavy as he began to fall forward, but he caught himself as he flailed out his arms for balance. He scrambled over to where the thing had flown and picked it up. The Tales of King Arthur. Quite well-known, he had to say. He'd read it, but it was a while ago now, so try though he might to recall a passage of it, he couldn't. Confound it all! Sighing quietly to himself, he turned, giving her a smile as he headed back in her direction, his arm stretching out so she could take her book from him.
"The Tales of King Arthur," he said approvingly. "Do you read often, Mademoiselle...?" He trailed off, hoping she'd get the hint that he did not know her name and that she would give it to him. Surely a pretty girl such as her would have a pretty name. If not, he would have to give her a name of his own. It wouldn't sit well with him to call such a girl as she something attrocious like "Agnès." Some might like it, but he himself didn't. He wondered how he had never noticed the girl before. Then again, he knew it was believable. He usually stayed after practice, asking Monsieur Remy to go over a passage he was having difficulty with before he left, and she probably left right after like most others. Ah well. It wasn't as though it mattered. She was merely another girl at the Paris opera.
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Post by Liana Marceau on Jun 1, 2008 5:23:34 GMT -5
Thank God for her book. It kept her busy after practice. It was entertaining. No one would bother her while she was reading. No one dared ask her what she was reading or if it was good because not everyone here could read and those that did thought themselves far superior to the others. The only time any of the chorus girls came to her was to chat without someone responding. Usually it was just to yell about another girl or practice or something foolish like that, but sometimes they craved her advice which she maybe gave if she felt a bit qualified or had some clear idea. Those were the only times she spoke. Her books usually prevented all other meetings, but in this case, it had made things worse.
Part of her wanted to just leave the book behind and run while she still could. She hadn't given her name yet. There was no need to give her name yet. He hadn't asked for it and until then she wasn't going to give it to him. The last thing she needed was to not be invisible anymore. She needed to be in the dark, unseen as she had always been. Being the friend, or even aquaintence of the lead tenor of the opera house would put her up front where she had, since coming to the opera house, strived not to be. In fact, she sang soft and not perfectly when she auditioned so she would never even have the chance to be seen. Just a background girl. No one had to know anything of how well she truely could sing. That was how she wanted it. Now, however, she was forced into the limelight by this damn book and she wanted out.
It wasn't him. He was being kind, gentlemanly minus the fall, which wasn't his fault in all fairness. At least he was busy searching for the book and not trying to make conversation. One of them would find it and then this would all be over. That was it. That would be all she needed and then she could go back to being the girl in the shadows; safe and alone in the shadows...after she picked up a new book. She was near done with this one after all and would need a new distraction soon. Perhaps Romeo and Juliet as she needed to read it again for the opera. She had before, but a little romance and poetry never hurt a girl.
If she had not been daydreaming perhaps she would have noticed that he had found her book and was holding it out to her. She, however, had not and it took her voice to startle her back into the situation. Blushing a light rose as she gently took the book from his hands Liana nodded. She had noticed he was fetching for her name, but it would be better if he did not know it. She did not even want him to know her false one. It was too risky in her opinion. She wasn't going to do it if she didn't have to and she didn't have to yet.
Lowering her eyes so she did not have to look at him, despite the attractiveness in his face, Liana nodded. She could see why the other girls at the Populaire all wished to be diva if it meant singing with him...even kissing him. Liana smiled slightly at the foolish thought. "I do Monsieur."
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Post by Marius Rousseau on Jun 1, 2008 6:06:19 GMT -5
So, still no name. Alright. He could handle that. He, Marius Rousseau, was not going to allow her lack of catching his drift and providing him with her name put him in low spirits. She was only a girl, after all, a girl that, judging by their past lack of interaction, he'd probably never see again except in passing, and soon he would forget her. The one, different girl he'd met. The one he'd actually felt even a remote interest to get to know. But judging by her lack of words, he doubted getting to know her would be easy anyway. She'd have to talk quite a bit more in order for him to even learn some little thing about her. But, at least she hadn't shied away from his question about her reading habits. However, the use of "Monsieur" made him cringe a little. It wasn't like he was twice her age and therefore had some reason to maintain that sense of properness with her. First-name basis didn't indicate anything, did it? Not with him at any rate.
"Please, Madamoiselle, call me Marius," he replied, "or if you must maintain some ambiguous sense of 'monsieur' being present, M. It doesn't matter to me. I'll respond. It's just, 'monsieur' makes me feel old." He gave a slight shrug and smiled so she wouldn't think he was cross with her. That was the last thing he needed--for the girl to think he was some mean-spirited person. "What kind of stories do you like to read, um,...?" He paused slightly, deciding he needed to just be straightforward right now. "Madamoiselle, is there a name I may call you by or at least know?" Yes, it technically made quite a bit for her to deal with answering, but he trusted she'd managed. He had faith despite her lack of display of verbal skills. She'd managed answers before at any rate. If a fool could speak, so could she because she certainly was no fool, not if she was able to read.
Marius actually was considering lending her one of his books. He didn't have many, but he had a few that were things he had enjoyed. Some his uncle had sent him since he'd arrived here. Others he'd brought with him. He halfway wished he could take her to his uncle's place in the country. She would probably love his library. Certainly, it wasn't huge by any standard, but it still held a good collection. A man his uncle's age, after all, had had a chance to accumulate such things. Some his uncle admitted to buying simply for looks, others because they sounded interesting yet he hadn't read because the writing was too high for him to understand. His uncle was hardly the best reader out there, yet he had seen to it that Marius excelled above his abilities, and it showed. After all, he was able to sing from music without any problems, was he not?
Of course, all these musings were quite foolish. Never would he have the chance to take her to his uncles because this wouldn't go anywhere. Why? Because he wouldn't let it. He'd made a vow to himself, and he was going to keep it. He couldn't let this girl get where no other had with him--close to his heart. He held that key tightly; he didn't give it easily. They would simply remain acquaintances, and if they were more, it would only be because she asked to borrow books from him from time to time. It was nothing to write home about. He had seen pretty girls before, but why was this one somewhat intriguing? What made her so different aside from her clumsiness and shyness? It was driving him a little mad trying to figure it out, but there was plenty of time to think that over. He would talk with his friends. They would talk him down.
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Post by Liana Marceau on Jun 1, 2008 18:41:56 GMT -5
Well, he certaintly seemed determined to get her name. He was trying to be polite about it at least. She would imagine that it would be frustrating for him not to recieve her name. After all, he was the man every woman wanted at the opera house. He was attractive, talented, kind, eligible. There was no reason not to want him, unless you were determined to keep to yourself. Unless you were determined to not attatch to anyone or anything. Unless you distrusted his kind and wanted to keep yourself, and every other person safe. Liana couldn't even allow a name. If she allowed a name, she allowed a connection. If she allowed a connection he could find her. He could be bribed. Even under a false name a connection was dangerous. It had almost gotten her captured once. Not again.
Still, she had to give this man something. To not give him a name would arouse suspicions, besides, it wasn't like he would come looking for her again. Very few people came looking for her again. Even if he did, it was very unlikely he'd find her. The only time people often saw her was at night when it was too late to talk and everyone was heading for their deisgnated bed, or practices. As far as he knew she couldn't even be a member of the performers of the Populaire. He hadn't asked her position after all. She couldn't exactly lie if she did of course because he would find out and once again, question why she had lied. It was all hypothetical of course because it wouldn't come to that. She would tell him what he wanted and leave as quickly as possible. He would pin her for a shy young thing like everyone else and let her go. That was all.
So, with this firmly in mind to give her the little courage she needed, Liana, head raised but eyes trained behind his face instead of on it answered in a soft voice, "Liana, Monsieur Marius. My name is Liana, and I read anything that comes into my hands." She had told him the truth. Or at least part of the truth. She did read anything that came into her hands. Even when her name had been Nicole and she was something far more important than a chorus girl in an opera house she had loved to read. She and her mother. Her mother had always stressed reading after all; even the books that ladies should not read for their own sakes. She had always snuck them out of her father's library and devoured them one by one. She was lucky if she could get those kind of books anymore, but she would rather be free than have a large collection as she used to.
It seemed though, here and now, that everything she had read, everything that was supposed to prepare her for life, was not helping her in this situation. She could not think of a way to graciously thank him and escape from any books on charm manners or deception for that matter. She could not think of anything witty. She was too nervous for any of that. She just wanted to run, or hide in her book again. Anything but speak to him. He was a man after all. He was a man who wanted her name and she was sure if he wanted that he wanted other things.
At that thought, Liana's throat tightened. She could remember the last man that had wanted her name. God. She wasn't sure if she could ever forget him. His face had been thin, pointed. He had longer hair, piercing eyes, and a nature about him that could freeze the warmenst of days. To think that this man was the one that she had been sold to...well, it was no wonder she had run and it was no wonder that she feared him and any other man who wanted her name. She wouldn't be suprised after all if he was trying to find her. Not out of love, not even out of lust or desire: just for principal. Even if this man's eyes were warm. Even if he was friendly. Nature's could decieve. Her mother had been decieved after all and it laid her six feet under with a stranded child left on this earth. Left to the hell her father could devise. Well, at least she was safe now. For this moment.
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Post by Marius Rousseau on Jun 6, 2008 3:32:03 GMT -5
Well, it was closer to plain "Marius" at least, he supposed. Maybe. Nevertheless, that was the last thing on his mind. "Liana," he repeated with a smile, the simple name falling easily from his tongue. It was pretty, suitable for such a girl as the one before him. At least now he could say, "I spoke with a girl named Liana today," and not, "I spoke with some pretty girl with long, blonde hair and beautiful eyes. She had a wonderful smile, but she was so quiet." Oh yeah. Being able to say her name and then describe her if asked was much better. It was less of a mouthful than "that girl I told you about" if he met her again and talked about her with his friends at any rate. He didn't foresee her coming up too often, but he had no such thing as foresight. It was kind of difficult to guess what the future was to be like.
Of course, if he did see Liana again, it would only be to give her books and discuss books with her, nothing more. He couldn't allow himself an attachment, or even a friendship. This would only be little more than an acquaintanceship that was drawn out for sake of a common interest in books, right? Of course. That was all it could be. He didn't want to get attached to a woman because that meant that possibly the notion of marriage could eventually come to mind and with most marriages came children, and he couldn't bear to have any children of his own. He didn't want them to have to go through what he had had to go through. No, his life hadn't been so horrible, but now he had next to no relationship with his father. He hadn't spoken with him since a few months before coming here. The emotions that came with that along with memories of his mother's death were sometimes overwhelming. No child should have to go through that ever. So, he was determined never to form a relationship with any woman, so help him God. It was much simpler that way.
Of course, having determined that a long time ago, Marius was even more confused with the fact that he was even considering meeting her again or learning her name or talking with her. This "She's different than the others" mentality was what would become his Achilles' heel. It was the Trojan horse, and he was not going to fall for it. Of course, Henri would probably call it Cupid's arrow and that he was hopeless. But, that was Henri for you. The village idiot and his best friend. He almost rolled his eyes at the thought but realized he was still standing before the very girl who had rendered him in such deep thought. He looked at her, smiling in embarrassment, a slightly pink tone to his cheeks. "Liana, perhaps you would like it if I brought you some books? Perhaps we can trade...borrow, though, I mean?"
Well, now he certainly felt dumb and hopeless. Curse Henri! Even think of what he might say if he heard his thoughts, and there came the feeling with it. At least, that was how it often seemed. He felt like the village idiot now. Giving Henri a run for his money but in a whole different way than how Henri was. And now he was beginning to think something was wrong with him, thinking about his best friend while in front of a pretty girl? Oy vey. "Focus, Rousseau, focus!"
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Post by Liana Marceau on Jun 6, 2008 5:21:50 GMT -5
It was a well known fact that fairytales did not exist. Many little girls read them. Every grown woman knew them by heart and prayed for princes to come and sweep them off their feet or save them. But common sense and factual law and society dictated that the only princes in the real world were indeed political and very much less than perfect. There was no reason for the man before her to even be deemed anything close. Of course, he had a goodly amount of attributes to that fairytale title in his keeping. Any girl with eyes could see or hear that. He had a face likened to a masterpiece painting, he had wavy brown locks of hair, he had beautiful kind eyes, and the way he said her name...it was like he was casting a spell to calm all her fears, but yet she could have sworn all he said was her name.
It was probably just a silly thing. After all, the chances of him being any sort of good were out. Men were not good. There were no such things as men that didn't want to hurt you. Her mother had learned that the hard way and she was not about to use a voice, a single voice and a single glance to convince her that he wouldn't do the very same thing as her father did to her mother. Besides, she had such shining examples of manhood to convince her otherwise. She had the stagehands who leered from behind corners here. She had the parade of suitors that had tried to buy her for their own pleasure from her father without even bothering with her consent. And of course, she had her very own kinsman himself. The worst offender. This man would be no different. Despite his charm. Despite the fact that he caught her...almost twice. Despite the fact that there seemed to be something different, something kind about him.
But now she was making up excuses. It was getting dangerous for her now. Last time she got attatched she had to leave. She wasn't going to hurt herself by doing that again. Besides, if he really was a prince charming, it was better to leave him. Her fairytale after all, her nightmare, still had its villians loose. And unlike a story, these men after her would truely kill. There would be no waking up, no comfort if they found her or anyone who knew her. Everything wouldn't come back when the lights turned back on. It was all too risky, and it wasn't just a risk with her life. She wasn't willing to assume that responsibility again. She refused too.
But as in any good tale, just when Liana determined to leave, the handsome mysterious man had to call her back again with something so intruiging even she couldn't resist: books. He had to figure out the one thing she loved almost as much as her freedom. Books were her companions after all. Books were her friends, her loves, her great escape from the truth she was living, from the lies she was forced to tell. Books provided her a whole other world to escape to. Books gave her freedom from her own life in a way. Even if she was free physically she wasn't safe yet. That was true freedom. In her time reading, she had that, even if it was only for a moment. He had, unknowingly discovered that. And if he hadn't, the minute she lifted her head up and her eyes brightened with some new excitement, her lips turning up in a childlike grin, he knew. Of course, she covered that as quickly as possible. Once again, in embaressment, Liana quickly lowered her head as a bright crimson pallor took her cheeks. "You are being unfair Monsieur Marius. You have discovered my weakness and yet I do not know yours. I do regret I must decline your offer however."
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Post by Marius Rousseau on Jun 15, 2008 2:40:24 GMT -5
"That truly is a pity, Liana," Marius replied with a soft smile. "I should have hoped that not knowing my weakness would have intrigued you enough to wish for yet another meeting, but I suppose I couldn't possibly have been more wrong." There was nothing more he could say or do here. He didn't know what else to talk to her about. Perhaps it was time to leave. In fact, he knew it was time to leave. If he spent much longer out, Henri would likely start making speculations, none of which would be true and all of which would likely be ridiculous, especially considering who he was with. He had never met a young woman so shy as Liana; certainly he had met plenty who lived up to society's standards, but many pushed their limits and it was obvious their coquettishness was feigned. No matter.
The young man cleared his throat lightly and glanced towards the exit and then to the stairs behind her before finally to the young woman and then the ground. He didn't know what he wanted to do now. On the one hand, he wanted to stick around and try to get to know this Liana a little bit, but with as little as she was saying, he doubted that was possible unless he happened to catch her in a chatty mood, which he had no evidence ever happened. So, pretty much he deemed it hopeless and that he needed to just forget about tonight, but how did he want to do that? Did he want to go up to the roof as originally planned before his and Liana's little crash meeting? or did he wish to return to the dorms? Let's see. Roof meant no one. Dorms meant Henri or a number of other young men. Which did he want? Alone time or company?
He knew he could hide this all rather easily. No one would know about the meeting with Liana, which really didn't matter anymore than any other run-in with a young woman, only, unlike most crash meetings, he and this one had talked a little. But, what was the point on letting his mind dwell with it? No. He would return to the dorms and he would go out with the other young men or stay in--whichever was the plan for tonight. He didn't care. He had no reason to act any differently, so what was the point? What he needed was some male companionship and any thought of this--Liana...Sigh. Any thought would vanish completely, if he just went and had fun with the boys tonight. She was just another person in this opera house. He didn't even know her position, which was fine, was it not? Of course it was.
He finally looked back to her face, trying to gain eye contact. "Well, Mademoiselle," he began, "I suppose with this I'll bid you farewell. Perhaps I shall see you again; then again, perhaps I shan't. We shall have to leave that to God." He extended his hand slightly for her to lightly rest her hand in should she choose so he could kiss her knuckles as was custom. However, if that wasn't something she was comfortable with, he would pass. As for Marius himself, he thought nothing of it. It was just something he was used to doing, something that would seem odd to go without, but it wasn't as though he would complain about it. "Farewell," he told her with a soft smile and lowering his hand to his side once it was clear which one she chose. "Careful on your way out." With that added word of caution in light of how they had met, he turned, leaving her presence and heading for the dorms.
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Post by Liana Marceau on Jun 15, 2008 3:22:47 GMT -5
Why did he so much want to see her again? Why did he want to intrigue her. She was not supposed to be the girl in this opera house that was intruiging. She did not want to be intriuging much less interested in any one else. Certaintly not someone other girls coveted! Certaintly not one of the people in the spotlight. She did not wish for those things. She was the one girl that did not want romance or fame or both at the same time as this man could offer! There were so many girls who would jump at the chance to see him a second time and he had to choose her to be intruiged by! Why did God taunt her with men like this so!?
Then again, she could not help but feel ashamed at her bad behaviour and meekness. This man was probably used to attention. He was probably so confused by her. Perhaps he thought she was touched in the head or that he was loosing his charm. Maybe he even thought that he had offended her in some way. It was nothing of the sort of course. She of course had been shocked when he landed on her but that was no fault of his! If anything she was to blame for the incident. The poor man had done nothing but try to be charming. Then again, try wasn't exactly the right word. It was more that he was charming. Incredibly so, but she could not allow herself to be swayed by such things because she could not be for her own good.
But still she felt so rude! He was all off put and staring around for an exit. She had never thought she could make a man speechless before without even speaking herself. Then again maybe that's what she should have done. If she didn't speak he might have thought she was mute. Perhaps that would be it! But it was too late. He had heard her speak and knew she could understand and knew she had to know something about people interacting properly or else he would not offer her his hand like that! But she couldn't possibly take it could she? She extended her hand and then pulled it away without even touching him, and debated about putting in his for a moment and allowing him that one thing. But what if one thing was not enough? It was not unheard of.
Pulling her hand nervously back to her side Liana nodded a slight fair well, blushing madly as he tried to meet her gaze once again before walking off. She ran in the other direction. There was only one person who could possibly try to understand any of this. Besides, she didn't know what else to do. This was not supposed to happen. And if God was truly in charge as the man said he would be cruel to have them meet again like this. Cruel or have a truely sick sense of humor.
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