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Post by Jacob Leroux on May 16, 2008 21:56:42 GMT -5
What a childish prank was what Jacob thought when the instruments became incredibly irritatingly out of tune and the laughter echoed through the hall. There was muttering among the guest of it being the Opera Ghost, hardly. It was probably just some uninvited guest or someone’s offspring. Who or whatever it was he didn’t give it much more thought and looked back at Rowena and waited for her reply or for her to leave. He preferred the latter but of coarse she probably all so did. Just this little greeting that he hoped would go quickly and he’d be off to isolate himself.
Yet the forces still seemed to be against him, but this time they we’re kind him. Jacob smiled as Celes spotted him. Though she looked concerned couldn’t help but show his uncertain smile. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked…how dazzling. He’d completely forgotten about Rowena now as he stared at his sister. “No I haven’t. he said after reminding himself of where he was and what he was doing. Hopefully no one saw his utter admiration.
At her next question he gave a small shrug of his shoulders, “I don’t see why you have to wear one. People would be able to guess who I was easily, and why would someone want to fool another person into thinking they were someone else.” Jacob said in a way so that she wouldn’t think that he absolutely hatred the idea of being here.
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Post by Le Fantôme De l'Opéra on May 24, 2008 1:25:53 GMT -5
"Indeed Monsieur. I had not thought of that though it certainly may be a possibility." The young woman remarked on his view of as to why the orchestra had been so mused, or rather why the room had become so slightly tense. At each turn however the young woman did not falter in her smile, a grin that upturned her lips attractively, causing the slightest of a dimple in her cheek. Perfecting her youth, her grace and demeanor, all of which he'd studied with a simple cursory glance to start, only now in close proximity. Her smile radiant as it grew during the interim of her pause she continued on. Most appealingly for conversation-sake indeed.
"Though Monsieur. I'm sure if that were the cause of everyone's nervousness they would be keen to disagree with you. Many would say after what occurred that they do." Her tone ever so honeyed even in her teasing form. How could he not have the strength to fight back a chuckle that would've resembled the laughter that had floated about the room moments before? He suppressed the laughter, the chuckle, only giving her a grin and his bow above her delicately boned hand. What more could he offer her? A murderer, a madman, a wolf in sheep's clothing as it were in this great room of fine gowns, masks, perfumes and riches.
A curtsy that was beatific in it's own right, almost beckoning anyone to have witnessed it to give a silent applause. Grace unmatched as of yet, head bowed only in slight with the barest of formality along with feminine delicacy. All tying in but never being distorted by the way she was quite sure of herself, a pretty smile to mask anything her racing mind might hide. Women were women, and Erik was in no hurry to disarm himself for such a one or any for that matter. Love. Companionship. Was not for a Monster, even as she, this woman looked at him with her sparkling eyes that could give any man to believe there was hope.
Quizzically her head tilted almost like a puppy dog trying to decipher just what an oddity he was. Though a puppy dog couldn't hold a flame to her beauty as her raven locks so moved with the innocent portrayal. Exposing a swan-like neck so delicately formed it was a crime that any such a creature could seem so fragile while still maintaining a regality above herself. Crimson lips parted then, the slight sound of inhalation as her chords took in the oxygen and dispelling the carbon on a question.
"But if I may be so bold Monsieur, may I ask your name?" Inquired she, and his eyes looked into her own. He'd lost himself, his life, his soul, what need he give a false name. Looking into the painted beauty she was, Erik pursed his lips a moment, before offering up a small smile. Reluctantly releasing her hand before her warmth could burn through his glove and make him feel something. Anything.
"Erik." Was all he offered with his wan smile if anything. Then without-further-ado, he extended a hand towards the swirling dresses and moving bodies. "Would the Mademoiselle grant me her name as well as a dance?"
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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 May 24, 2008 1:55:41 GMT -5
After being on the stage since she was so young, Celeste was used to men looking at her. Men watched her dance every day on that stage. They had watched her dance, they had watched her grow, she wouldn't be suprised, given the loose morals spread among the stagehands, if men had even watched her change before performances. Men did not scare Celeste, she knew she could control them to some extent so she knew she had no need to fear them or their examinations. Still, this man unsettled her slightly. The way he glanced at her so easily and then picked her apart piece by piece with his eyes without flinching, or looking in hunger like most men did. There was something curious about this one and it intruiged Celeste. Very few men could do that to her and this was one of them.
His very behaviour was confusing to her after all. He did not laugh where most men would howl at her jokes to show their fondness for her. He was colder than most men when extending his hand; very proper, and yet, when he gave his name he merely gave his first name. Either he had no title, he did not include his title, or he was using a false name. It was a masque after all, many people used them. She would not for this was her chance to make connections, or get lost in the evening. She hadn't decided yet. Perhaps, with this man she would find both options equally attractive.
Through all of this her eyes stayed locked his. He was just as much of a hunter as she was. It had to be that. It was either that or she had him in a trance of some sort without knowing it. In a room full of beautiful women she had worked to set herself apart, but she had no idea she could do it to this extent. The strange thing was not his staring, no, it was the fact that it seemed like he was looking past her for something else. He was looking in her eyes. Those strange misty blue eyes were definently locked into hers, but they were trying to see into her soul almost unlike the eyes of the men who usually took her interest. They certaintly didn't meet her eyes often. When they did, it was mere hunger and courtasy she saw. She wasn't sure what was in his eyes. Just like the rest of this man those eyes were a mystery.
The only thing that was not a mystery about this man now was his name: Erik. At least she knew that one thing. Perhaps that would lead her to more. She certaintly hoped so at least. She certaintly wished it for one reason or another. Perhaps it was the curse that she had always been far to eager to know things. She always had a thirst for knowlege, for gossip, for anything of use really. Perhaps that was why she found this strange man so interesting; he was new and certaintly strange to her. After all, most men would not pull their hands away from hers so quickly while asking for a dance. It was as if he were perhaps afraid of her?
Celeste peered down her nose slightly, smiling while letting her brows furrow slightly while she tried to decipher both him and his offer. He was intruiged by her. She was intruiged by him. If he was not intruiged he at least wished to look at her longer. Still, why would he ask her to dance if he wished not to hold her hand for a bit longer. None of this made sense, and yet, though she knew she should withold her name, play the coy girl for a bit longer, Celeste took his outstretched hand that was gesturing as if to open the world of the dance floor to her. Her crimson smile spread slightly as she nodded and met his eyes once again to give her answer. "Celeste Monsieur. Celeste Gerras is my name."
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Post by Marius Rousseau on Jun 16, 2008 2:17:13 GMT -5
Marius would have been content to remain in the dorm all night, but as it was, duty called. The managers wanted him and some others to sing tonight. So, he had no choice, but he had dragged his feet, taking his sweet time to get there. He had put off getting changed into his suit and mask until last minute and at that had purposefully taken his sweet time pulling on each article, the longest it had ever taken him to get dressed. Most every other young man who lived here was already out and likely to the ball or whatever mischief they could find elsewhere, though Marius found he could somehow care less. After he had everything pulled on, he sat on the edge of his bed and lifted his ankle to his knee so he could pull on a sock and then a shoe and repeated the process with the other foot before finally giving in and putting on his black mask. All in all, he was about twenty minutes late, which usually would bug him, but the point of this masque was to not be recognized, right? And besides, with the crowd, he hardly doubted his tardiness would be noticed. He hoped it wouldn't, at least. It would be more than embarrassing to find someone had been looking for him to introduce him to a patron or something and he wasn't there, but oh well. What was done was done and it was only possible to forget about it and move on with life. Living with regrets wasn't a way he planned on living at any point in his life, certainly not over something so minute and unimportant that would be forgotten as soon as the city's gossips found something else to chatter about. Whatever the case, Marius quickly found his way out of the dormitory and began the dreaded walk to the crowd of people he knew would be in the ballroom. He didn't mind performing for crowds, but being amongst the crowd was a whole different matter entirely. He actually had to interact with them in this case, had to actually dance with some woman, talk, drink, and mingle. Some nights that was fine, others he preferred to be alone. He wasn't entirely sure which this would be. Naturally, as this would be his first real thing here to do at the opera since its reopening, he was a little nervous...alright, more than a little nervous. Despite that, he was determined to keep his voice clear and void of shakiness or any sign of nerves. He would keep his soft palate lifted and support his tone and volume with his diaphragm and do his uncle proud. He knew he would be here tonight, which somewhat alleviated his fears. After what seemed like forever, he reached the staircase and walked down it confidently, giving a pleasant look from behind his mask. He looked around for someone he knew, hoping to avoid having to right away mingle with strangers. No one would recognize him who didn't personally know him or know what he was going to wear anyway, right? In some ways it could be interesting to see what boldness could come of it, but in others, he was a little uncertain. Nevertheless, he was determined to make this a good night...somehow.
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Hana Fujioka
Chorus Girl/Boy
I'll keep you company...
Posts: 31
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Post by Hana Fujioka on Jun 22, 2008 0:34:17 GMT -5
Culture shock, Hana had absolutely no idea. France was nothing like Japan and the French were nothing like the Japanese. All her life Japan, her island home, had seemed all that existed on the Earth. Jean had been her first sight of the outside world...what existed across the water. Finally at his side Hana had followed Jean into the Opera Populaire. The place was grand and more beautiful than she could have ever imagined.
Jean looked dashing in his navy tuxedo and painted mask which covered the upper half of his face. Hana smiled and gazed into his lovely eyes. He kissed her, this was another oddity...in Japan a man and woman would never be found kissing each other in public. Hana however liked this freedom...one could be themselves here, without a worry. The pair entered the ballroom and after exchanging a few words began to dance. Initially she had been wary of dancing in such a fashion as the French did. But as soon as she was in his arms all worry and intimidation vanished.
Hana's gown though French in design had a definate oriental flare, it perfetly matched the color of Jeans tuxedo. Her mask was similar to that of Jeans though not exactly. They danced together almost effortlessly...gliding. Hana smiled at Jean and was happy simply to be with him. This happiness caused her to think of her greatest happiness. Their child. Hana had yet to tell Jean and she wondered what his reaction would be, she could not keep it to herself any longer.
"Jean..." she began. "...could...could we talk?" Hana asked hoping they could find a quiet spot.
(((Continued in: Confessions)))
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Post by Jean Jondrette on Jun 29, 2008 20:31:33 GMT -5
(Continued from 'Confessions')
Jean and Hana left the hallway, now living secretly engaged, and they reunited with the guests of the party. They were wearing their masks again and they went over to where they were serving drinks.
"I'll have a glass of champagne and... do you have any water?" Jean asked, now aware of Hana's condition. The servant poured a glass of champagne for Jean and a glass of water for Hana.
They drank as they watched the others dance the night away. Jean turned to Hana and smiled at her. "You have a glow already, my love," he put a hand to her chin and pointed it towards his face. "I love you and can't wait until we are a family." He looked into Hana's eyes and saw a glimmer of happiness, something he had not seen for a while.
When they were finished, Jean went to return the glasses, but as he walked, he felt something tap his leg. He reached into his pockets and saw the pill bottle in his hand. Jean looked back at Hana and the pills. The servant took back the glasses and Jean walked over to a nearby plant. He dumped the white pills into the pot and watched them hit the dirt.
"I can control my own life... I don't need you... I never did..." he thought.
He returned to Hana who seemed happy to see him. Jean kissed her and asked her to dance with him again with an outreached hand.
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