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Post by Le Fantôme De l'Opéra on Aug 7, 2009 17:52:24 GMT -5
An eerie cloak of darkness had covered Paris that night, not being its usual busy self. It was like there was a message sent across the city to stay inside, avoid the outside world for the night, which meant it was time for Erik to rise from below the Opera. He seemed to get more stir crazy these days, perhaps it was age or maybe because now he was finally going to get his way. It had been a long time, his entire life for him to get his way on this level, but it would all be worth it in the end. A victory. Not just a battle victory that many had claimed in his life, but a war victory. Erik would win the war and he would be satisfied and no one was going to stop him now.
Celeste had been his guiding angel, someone who shared his vision and was willing to cooperate with him and not let anyone stall their progress. It was a miracle he had found her, but now almost a year had past, a year of waiting and construction and rehearsals. The gala was approaching, the stars were rising...with the exception of the lead Madame la Comtessa. It seemed that she was beginning to fall under the weather more lately and now missing more rehearsals. Perhaps they should consider the idea of a replacement should the curtain fall on Christine's chance at performing. That's when Celeste would fall into the spotlight, by chance as her other pupil had done. Only this time would be a better ending.
Erik stared out upon the city of Paris, a smog covering it, which made his location on the rooftop safe. Even if there was no cover, who would be able to see him there? It had been out of his domain, that was for sure, however, there was also the benefit of gaining territory. Plus this place had brought up some bad memories that were better forgotten in his mind. It the place where God made it quite clear that Erik was unworthy of him, where he begged for forgiveness, where he begged for the love of a woman...but all He could provide was a kiss of death, a kiss that killed ambitions and dreams. Erik had been a fool to believe, but now there was no need to believe, because now he knew that he would end up on top.
Celeste was to meet him up there, part of his promise to see her more often, promise to give her all she needed in order to be his. A ring had been given to her that confirmed her alliance and that had been a happy day. The ring was a symbol of freedom, her freedom, and putting it on meant she had barely any freedom under his control. He was her master and she was his obedient servant, but she was more than that to him, more than just a servant because she had dared to test his emotion. The little that was left of it, that is. But now was time to wait till the day when he dragged her down with him and that would be after she was the toast of the artistic community of Paris.
Oh what a day, that would be...
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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 Aug 9, 2009 5:36:04 GMT -5
It was strange to have all the world and have nobody know it. It was strange to know that soon she would be the darling of Paris, the toast of Paris, the queen of the most respected stage in Paris, and crowned the goddess of music- a title rightfully hers. She would be the Diva of the Populaire. She would have the world and everything she ever dreamed of. She would have everything she needed and more and he would give it to her if she could just survive him. If she could survive him and his demands, if she could please him and still retain a shred of her soul she will have won against the devil himself, she would have beaten death himself, she would have victory. But there was an age or to till then. She had to please the devil and play his game first. She had to be his mistress, his servant, and his love- the devil's bride.
And as a bride before meeting her master she had to prepare herself before every meeting. She had received the summons and to be late would be to displease her master, and to do that would be do die. Then again, to not be properly ready to greet her benefactor would be likewise to meet her grave. And so with these thoughts in mind Celeste sat late in the dressing room of common ballet girls and chorus brats twisting the side strands of her hair into a crown of braids and brushing out the rest with patience and care to make it as smooth and rich looking as the wings of a raven- the bird most like her master. After her hair always came a careful harsh look in the mirror. Each cheek was pinched to create the color of life he so fed upon and to make her pretty eyes stand out more against her dark hair and cream pale skin. And then, in the dress she had chosen- today's a simple dark blue practice dress with a small silver chain holding a ruby ring surrounded by diamonds she ascended to bend to her master's will once again. It was her duty and she must now make it her pleasure.
If she only knew which master was waiting for her on the roof of the opera house she was to own with her voice very soon. Unless most women, unless most slaves she had two masters. She had a teacher who was her master, a strict and harsh man who spoke in words of darkness and death. He was not forgiving nor was he at all bending. His will, his whim was law and she must abide as his bride, his slave. The other man she served was the man she found pleasing. His voice was soft and seductive. When he controlled her it was not a control born of fear, nor one born of respect, but one of desire. She desired to serve him. She would lay down her life for him. And if he asked she would love him and no one else. And yet the ring she wore served as a contract for both masters- just as she was both sweet and sour, so was he both men. And Celeste could never tell which she would be receiving when she met. But as it was time there was to be no more delay.
A deep breath her only chance to steel herself against either the rush of warmth she would feel at at seeing the man she was in deep danger of falling in love with, or the cold chill that would take over her body if she saw the angel of death- her tutor and a most cruel master. She knew which she would see if she waited one moment longer and she knew she would rather not know that have him come to claim her in all certainty. The door squeaked with a whining pitch that warned of danger. Who knows who had used this roof last. The Diva had certainly been fond of it before it had burned down. Rumor had it they were not going to rebuild it half as well, but her requests demanded that it be so. Thus the managers had done as their diva wished, and so it was that Celeste, their Diva to be stood here, waiting to see whom she would be greeting- the man or the monster.
Standing straight and tall as any noble or royal Celeste stood looking deep into the dark inky night sky. She could not tell which it resembled more the black of a never ending hole of some type of despair, the cloak of death come to claim her, or perhaps it was the velvet of a man's glove on a warm hand brushing against her cheeks. The thought made her smile and suddenly the biting night felt a little warmer. She had made it on time. She had played her part in this contract, in this particular scene, now she would see who she would play it against- the lover or the foe. Swallowing hard to ease the hard dry lump that had formed her in throat Celeste managed to take a deep singer's breath and call out with a calm quiet, "As usual I seem to have arrived and I see no one to greet me. May I ask where you are hiding or should I close my eyes and wait so that you may surprise me as usual.....?
She waited for a brief moment, her hand touching the ring dangling from around her neck, her heart beating faster as a name dangled on her tongue forcing its way out of her lips in the softest breath, "Erik?"
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