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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Feb 9, 2008 22:20:25 GMT -5
The Opera House Populaire, the very gem of the city. With it’s careful marble and whitewashed walls, golden statues, and opal disked roof it was a wonder that the Queen of England couldn’t see the glow of it all the way in her parlor. It towering over the other buildings made it easy for the wealth to wake up to the site of it from their own marble balconies. Whoever lived to far away to see the Opera House turn that marvelous sunrise shade of orange was surely missing something greater then a painting by Monet.
Least that’s what the young Angel Marcellinus thought from his bedroom prison. He had dreamed of the day that he would be able to see the full splendor of building as much as he dreamed about ever using one of his homemade poisons. It wasn’t until his “mother” was put away that he would ever have the chance to. Around the age of eighteen he was known as a regular attendee at all the premiers. He was enthralled about the whole experience. The Opera House was his second love.
So when it was burned down he was devastated. He offered to help expense wise with the repairs when not buried in his books or other things in his hobbies. When it was all finished he was recognized as one of their patrons, which greatly pleased him.
And now for the first time he stood in the foyer as someone other then an audience member. Observing the redone entrance the Comte gave a satisfied smirk. Yes, the rumors where right about it being grander then before. He had thought had had been impossible but obviously it wasn’t.
While doing his little inspection he would tip his hat to the other patrons and give charming smiles to the chorus girl and ballerinas. Being around all the pretty girls wouldn’t be a bad perk either, he thought. Well now he should probably be looking for the owners or someone of the sorts. Glancing around he didn’t see anyone of the sorts. Tapping his black polished cane, that carried a vile of his own concoction, he wondered if he should have sent a message before hand stating he was coming.
“And all I know is how to get to the auditorium. How bothersome.”
He whispered under his breath to him self. With one last look around he grasped the middle of the cane and started onward toward wherever onward was. Hopefully someone would stop him before he got lost in the maze that was the upper level of the Opera House.
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Post by caitlinthemiller on Feb 9, 2008 23:04:32 GMT -5
Johanna went out through the doors leading up to the catwalks, still frightened by the voice she had heard ((see Histories)). While deciding to tell anyone or not, she walked swiftly towards the grand staircase, her eyes on her feet. Bad mistake.
She felt a collision and slipped, dragging her poor victim down with her. "Oh, Monsieur, I am so sorry I didn't see you!" Curse her clumsiness. She could sing, but she could never dance. Without looking up she grabbed the monsieur's polished cane, witch had fallen out of his grasp. She looked up saw a face that she could not recall seeing before.
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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Feb 9, 2008 23:55:19 GMT -5
Angel had been making his way up the staircase thinking that if he headed up toward the box seat that he might have some luck that the managers or another patron would be up there watching a practice. Once scaling the stairs he looked around again taking things in from another angle. However not looking at what was right in front of him would be his downfall, quit literally.
The sudden impact into his chest sent him plummeting to the hard marble floor with a nice thud. A grunt and skitter of wood and metal was heard when he landed on his bum and lower back. Before he could even evaluate what had happen there was a frantic apology filling his ears from a sweet female voice. Pushing himself up to his knees with a wince he looked at the pale blonde. Giving a small smile he shook his head.
“It’s alright Mademoiselle, no harm done. Thank you.”
He said pleasantly taking back his cane. Looking at it a bit concerned that the bottle inside might have broken. If it did he could always get a new cane, even if it was fatal it still wasn’t smart to have a cane with poison soaked into the wood. Steadily placing the cane he used it to help push himself up, and then he held out his hand to help the girl up.
“Looking where your going can reduse these icidents, though I suppose it doesn’t help with me stopping in the middle of where people walk and not look out for myself.”
Angel smiled jokingly at her. He hadn’t really meant he wanted to actually run into someone before, but he didn’t mind. It had been his luck that he was bumped into by a women, and a pretty one at that.
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Post by caitlinthemiller on Feb 10, 2008 21:56:31 GMT -5
Her first instinct was to scuttle away like a frightened crab, but she wanted to be at least social. He helped her up and filled her conciousness with his rich voice, making her forget the voice in the cat walks:
“Looking where your going can reduse these incidents, though I suppose it doesn’t help with me stopping in the middle of where people walk and not look out for myself.”
It took her a second (still reeling from an impact with a nice looking man), but then Johanna laughed. "Oh, yes... yes that might help, heh..." At least he had a sence of humor. "Um, I'm Johanna L'Engle. Sorry about that, I tend to carry accidents around like ladies of quality carry lapdogs," She was rambling, but she couldn't help it.
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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Feb 10, 2008 23:38:26 GMT -5
Angel gave a pleased smile when she let out a sweet laugh. He hadn’t planned on getting a laugh out from what he said but it was all the better. When helping her up he had noticed a hint of nervousness, which he was used to by now with the way the maids looked at him and when others find out his hobby. Which meant that he was also used to breaking that awkwardness. Thankfully it had worked on this Johanna L’Engle.
He himself gave out a think chuckle at her rambling and comment about the high society women carrying around lap dogs. It seemed that this shy girl had a better humor then he did when meeting new people. Lifting an eyebrow and smirking he shook his head.
“Now you must know that they have the animal and the husband as the lap dog. Surely a lovely lady like you couldn’t have that many accidents!”
Angel was said while bowing and gently placing his lips on the knuckles of the hand he hadn’t let go of after helping her up. Glancing up from his bow to look at her ever so intriguing black eyes he introduced himself.
“Comte Angel Marcellies. It’s truly a pleasure Mademoiselle L’Engle.”
Straitening back up to his full height he smiled down at the blonde and studied her without being to obvious. She had to be younger then him, older the eighteen but not more then three and twenty. Platinum blonde hair with waves and those onyx pools. Yes, she was beauty.
“And really it’s quit alright. No need for apologies.”
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Post by caitlinthemiller on Feb 11, 2008 15:25:45 GMT -5
A Comte, ey? High society. Too high, her mother would say. Keep in your place, and don't trust society people, especially men! She ignored the memory of her dearly departed Cocney mother, and said, "You would be suprised at how many accidents I could cause." Johanna drew her hand away. She smiled ''Thank God they don't let me dance, right?"
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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Feb 11, 2008 21:33:31 GMT -5
Introducing himself without his title was something that he was not taught to so. Even though it was probably would be more inviting he preferred to be upfront. He wasn’t ashamed of announcing his position unlike some of the people that weren’t stuck up around here. Anyways he didn’t think that he was that high up. Above a Baron and Vicomte but lower then Marquises, Dukes, and so on.
Johanna hardly even seemed to blink when he mentioned it. This made Angel’s smile genuine rather than polite cheerfulness. Perhaps he could have a normal conversation with this woman. Usually what he spoke he was so proper that it was improper with the long intellectual words that were completely unnecessary for communicating. Chuckling he shook his head.
“Well I can’t really say Mademoiselle L’Engle, for I have never seen you dance before. Even if you are prone to accidents couldn’t dance help correct it? I have seen the worst klutzes able to pull off a decent waltz. But I know nothing of ballet so perhaps I am wrong.”
In all truth he probably wouldn’t have recognized her if she had been the leading lady in some of the opera he’d seen. That was probably something he’d need to work on. But he did believe that no one could be as clumsy as she was implying.
"So does that mean you’re a chorus girl?"
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Post by caitlinthemiller on Feb 25, 2008 15:23:33 GMT -5
Of course he hadn't seen her preform; she was new. God, she felt stupid. Johanna, think before you speak. Don't be like Epimetheus. She smiled to herself; she had just compared herself to a Greek Titan.
"Well, I'm new. I have been in rehersals as the comedic fool: all I do is stagger around and try to make it look real." She grinned. "I am getting better though, you are right."
Johanna thought for a moment in the ensuing silence. Then she sighed. "I actually want to sing though. But Christine is back." All of a sudden she blushed. "You wont tell her, will you? I really shouldn't be rambling on like this."
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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Feb 26, 2008 23:17:48 GMT -5
Angel could see a very small change in her features before she next spoke. He found it somewhat amusing. Never had he met a self-proclaimed klutz that had mannerisms like her. A small smile crept to his lips as he listened to her further proclamation of her lack of grace. With all the fuss she was making about he thought to himself that whenever the next ball or masquerade came up she’d be the first he’d ask to dance with.
He merely nodded with the growing entertained smile when Johanna had finished. Actually he wasn’t sure if he should be smiling or feeling pity for her lack of confidence in dancing. She seemed to be ok with laughing about so he decided he’d rather feel sorry for her.
His amused smile turned into a laugh though when she blushed about her regret for Madame de Changy returning. The blush on her already innocent face was quit a cute site.
“There is no need to worry Mademoiselle L’Engle! I swear I shall not speak a word of it. Though if you love singing why not give her a run for her money?”
Angel wasn’t sure why people just let things they want go because another has it. Though it might not sound completely like it, what he said was supposed to be a bit of encouragement.
“I have never heard you sing of coarse, but I believe that if you think you could have made it with Madame de Changy gone, why not still try. You must have a beautiful voice to even think it. "
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Post by caitlinthemiller on Mar 1, 2008 15:22:21 GMT -5
She hadn't thought of that. "Well, I could, but she is famous throughout Europe. Oh, I'll just stop complaining." She stopped at his amused smile. "I'll do it, thank you Monsieur!" She dropped a minuscule curtsy. Any deeper, and she would have fallen over. Or would she? Was this Comte right?
She tried a deeper one and smiled. "I believe it was all in my head...."
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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Mar 3, 2008 22:43:05 GMT -5
Angel nearly tapped his cane impatiently on the floor when she was about to argue again about her ability. It was only amusing after so long, and he couldn’t stand people that wouldn’t give themselves a chance. It was something that people might usual think he’d care about. But after his childhood of being confined and people thinking nothing will come of him because his detachment of the norm with men of his status, he didn’t have a lot of sympathy.
When she quickly switched to a more productive way of thinking though his falling smirk came back full force. He gave a tip of his hat as a ‘Your Welcome.’ It was an odd scene though if those who knew him saw it. Not that he never helped someone before but that he was helping someone psychologically.
“I may be. Dwell on it and as the patron I’d like to see a more confidante dancer on stage, possible a new singer in the near future?”
He asked with hint of playfulness. Angel wondered why he had felt obliged to help Johanna. Usually he would have scoffed at the girl knowing that it was completely their fault with their way of thinking. There was something sweet and serene; in her own way, about the girl that had made him want to. Maybe because he hadn’t met a girl that wasn’t confidant but not utterly pitiful.
“Now I believe before this pep talk you were rushing off to somewhere. I hope I haven’t kept you Mademoiselle.”
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Celeste Gerras
Understudy
Diamonds are a girl's best friend!
Posts: 76
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Post by Celeste Gerras on Mar 4, 2008 21:51:30 GMT -5
Silly girl. She was one of the other dancers. That was easy enough to recognize. Madame Giry very often had her hands full with this one. It was easy to see why to. The very way she moved was awkward. This girl never had, and Celeste had reason to suspect she never would have, the natural grace and practiced movements of a dancer. For goddness sakes, that curtsy was just an embaressment for anyone much less someone trained to move. Had they not been trained on how to properly cursty at the end of a show. This girl should know better. And then to show it to a new Patron, someone of status from the sound of things. The twit should be ashamed.
Of course, given that he was a patron and that this girl had fumbled her impression so badly it would be a shame for him to walk away with that memory of the opera house. Celeste of course cared for the opera house dearly and she knew she could better this man's opinion of it after his poor run in with that sorry excuse for an artist. She would just have to interferre. Not that she wouldn't if she didn't think it was necessary for the good of the opera house. After all, interferring would incinuate ease dropping and a young lady like herself would never do that......but still. It was for the good of the opera house. It wouldn't hurt her chances of an opportunity to impress either.
With a sly seductive smile, Celeste smoothed out her dress and peered around the corner as the new Patron was making his farewells to the inept Johanna. She put on a winning smile, and with a confident glide made her way over to the pair with an innocently welcoming look on her face. "I don't know where she would be going, dance practice ended for today I do believe. It would be such a shame Monsieur to let Johanna go. She is after all one of the sweetest girls in the Populaire, but do forgive me for my opinions Monsieur, they are quite biased and given far too freely."
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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Mar 7, 2008 22:35:30 GMT -5
Angel actually hadn’t thought it was a bad impression at all. Sure it wasn’t the ordinary greet and meet but he still enjoyed Johanna’s shy and unsure nature. It was a nice refreshment from the over confident ones. Like the one that came up to them with a dazzling smile. The woman radiated with self-confidence and an assurances in every step. A complete opposite air of Mademoiselle L’Engle. He could tell that this raven-haired one someone that could hold herself quit well. Maybe she could help Johanna, coarse he wouldn’t suggest that if he really know what she thought of the other ballerina.
Tipping his hat to the alluring female he gave his most charming smile. He supposed he could do those little things without having their heart go a flutter like the other girls here. At the moment she seemed to sophisticated for such antics as his teasing. And for some reason he feel like flirting in front of Johanna.
“No need for apology to me Mademoiselle. It’s Mademoiselle L’Engle you are talking about, not me.”
Angel glanced back at the clumsy dancer and nodded his head. Though he had only just met her he was sure that there wasn’t a sweeter girl in the Opera House then her. Looking back at the other he gave her a look over. Definitely had an elegant air about her higher then the other girls. Maybe she had some upper class in her, or maybe she just put herself to higher standards. Nothing wrong with that in this sort of place. And even without her mentioning dance practice, her posture and grace told that she was a dancer. Theirs was the figures he preferred to look at…he was a man after all wasn’t he?
“Besides, if you can’t say what you think then why speak? Mademoiselle…?”
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Celeste Gerras
Understudy
Diamonds are a girl's best friend!
Posts: 76
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Post by Celeste Gerras on Mar 9, 2008 12:51:35 GMT -5
Men were foolish. It was a common fact that Celeste had taken to heart quite early on when she joined the ballet. She watched them as a young girl, fighting over the various ballerinas, being teased and manipulated by the more clever of the older girls. Of course, being as estute as she was Celeste could not have learned more from what she watched. In her opinion she, at this point, had far outshined the girls she had learned from when she was just starting in the ballet. She had learned, more than they ever could, that some men liked a challange. Not one like Johanna to role over. If you could challange them and keep that challange fresh every day, you could keep men like pets.
Silly girls like this one in front of her would never dare to do such things, but Celeste was not most girls. Even now she could tell that he was assesing her grace and her posture. She could see, no matter how she did not show it, his eyes scrolling over her body as if it were some open book to read. And of course she ignored it all. It was one thing to be looked at after all. In her profession people payed to watch you, but it was another thing to start a game such as this and that was an all too common begining that Celeste was used to. She knew she only needed to hold her ground now, so she timed her reactions carefully.
She nodded her head politely at the tip of his hat without acting as flabbergasted and charmed as any other ballet rat. Her lips turned up in a coy teasing way as he told her not to appologize and then to speak freely. A mistake on his part. He was openly engaging her how and to have Celeste with a free tongue was a dangerous thing to do. Men often underestimated what trouble she could weave with that tongue of hers.
With a smooth gliding step Celeste moved easily around the meek ballet rat and circled around the man with the same teasing flirtatious grin, her head slightly tipped to the side and fixed him with a daring look straight into his eyes with the calmness of the mirrored surface of a stilled lake. "In that case Monsieur, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you then that if I appologize I often do so for the sake of sensitive ears and my opinions would flow freely even if you hadn't just warrented them the freedom to do so Monsieur."
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Post by Angel Marcellinus on Mar 16, 2008 23:29:05 GMT -5
Angel however was not a foolish man. Though it seemed the woman was his weakness really their what kept him amused. He would gladly play a game of cat and mouse or hard to get, but that’s all it was. A game. Never had he been so wrapped up in one certain girl before that he waited on them hand and foot. The proud Comte would never let a mere woman get the better of him to a point were he wouldn’t be able to get out. And sure he enjoyed a challenge every now then, but since there was no real gain from it if it was nothing but a tug-a-war he’d just walk away with a polite pardon. Sometimes.
This girl seemed like the cunning type. She didn’t fidget, giggle, or blush under his assaying eye. It was a common thing done by bolder people when greeting, her giving no reaction told him that she was one of those bold people, or used to it. With her coy smile, poised air, and teasing eyes that matched his, he was sure that he’d have an interesting time with her.
When she floated around him, in a more friendly way then he would have done to a person he without knowing their name, raising an eyebrow he glanced at the silent Johanna. She seemed perturbed by the other girl presence. Crossing his arms he smirked at the woman as she rounded to face him again with a more then teasing smile but that was the only thing that showed a searing personality. Curious way to meet someone, but he found it almost as refreshing as Johanna clumsy meeting.
However his eyebrows rose more when she spoke of sensitive ears. She wouldn’t have thought he had sensitive ears, which made him glance at the timid blonde. Looking back at the other he put his cane down and leaned on it.
“Surely a women as lovely as you wouldn’t have an ugly tongue to delicate ears. If you do then pray do hold it, not for the ears, but because it would awful to mar a first impression with a slip of a word or pharse.”
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