La Muta
Understudy
Parlare Non Male
Posts: 70
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Post by La Muta on Jul 7, 2008 2:40:35 GMT -5
Colombina completely bypassed the compliment. Her face fell into wide-eyed, greivious longing. She pointed to Liana and then stepped forward, lightly tapping her throat. She had not spoken to any of the singers here. She had not had the ability, of course, but even if she had--if she could write upon a slate or communicate by some easier means--she did not think that she could bear it. She hoped that they appreciated what they had.
Muta sighed, clasping her hands over her heart and then putting her hand to her own throat, tapping lightly there and opening her mouth to let out... nothing but air. She seemed to sink a bit into herself and shake her head, removing her hands to clasp out of the way behind her back. She looked up and mustered a smile, gesturing to Liana and then tapping her own throat, open-mouthed, as if singing. She wanted to hear.
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Post by Liana Marceau on Jul 7, 2008 3:22:54 GMT -5
As a rule, Liana did not sing to anyone...ever. She sang during rehersals when it was required. She sang for God quietly at mass, and all these times she never sang to her full ability. The last time she had done that was with her mother. The time she had gotten close after that, her new family's home and well being had almost burned because of her. Liana was not determined to sing full out ever. But there was something about the longing of this girl to hear her voice since she so longed for one herself. Liana felt her heart swell in sympathy for she could not imagine her life without singing. Singing had been her freedom. Singing was her comfort and so many other things. Now it was her livelyhood and to imagine life without it...well...she could not.
So, feeling slightly guilty for the fact that she was a singer, and drawn to singing on behalf of this girl as she could not, Liana closed her eyes for a moment. Her lungs expanded and her shoulders straightened themselfs as she burst into the first aria from the latest opera. The notes danced on the air, light and free as the song of Juliette when she is first introduced to the party. They were playful and fun and had an air of cheekiness about them that seemed to suite the girl she sang this for, not to. She was singing for Colombina since she could not, she was her friends voice for this moment.
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La Muta
Understudy
Parlare Non Male
Posts: 70
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Post by La Muta on Jul 7, 2008 18:55:13 GMT -5
Muta watched the look of hesitation cross her friend's face. Was she a bad singer? Had she not understood the request? She prepared to repeat the mime when she was stopped by the look of guilty sympathy, and she smiled slightly to try to dispel those feelings, reconnecting her hands behind her back. She watched as Liana closed her eyes, the ribs expanded, posture was altered... she knew the technique so well! She had studied and practised it endlessly, even if what emerged from her lips was only strained air.
A sound broke forth in a wave of what seemed like light, or something equally poetic and heavenly. Colombina plopped down in that moment on the nearest grate in disbelief, eyes wide and sparkling, mouth slightly agape. She stared into nothingness, seeing the scene as she had seen it played during rehearsals. She did not understand the words, but the tune was beautiful, and she knew the story. She was Italian, after all, and had spent a good deal of her childhood in 'fair Verona' as well as the nearby Mantua. Liana's voice was beautiful! She tried to forget for a moment that she was hearing it and pretend that she was the one singing it.
She closed her eyes. Her lips parted and she, too, expanded her lungs, letting the silent rush of air out of her throat and thrilled at the sound of an operatic voice rushing out, instead. When she song ended she quickly wiped away the sad tears from her cheeks and closed her mouth, never to admit to her moment of fantasy. She smiled brightly at Liana and began to clap furiously, trying to convey exactly how good she thought that Liana was.
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Post by Liana Marceau on Jul 7, 2008 21:05:07 GMT -5
In respect for her friend, and her own mindset, Liana kept her eyes closed as she sang. It was better if she didn't see the look on Colombina's face. She was used to seeing the look of shock on everyone's face the first few times they heard her sing. No one, after all, expected the quietest girl in the room to have a very good singing voice, much less any singing voice. She had always been pinned as the type to play the piano, or harpsichord. They were the the people not many payed attention to as they always accompanied their friends and only on occasion played a solo or sang with their own pieces. The singers were always the ones in the spot light and given how shy Liana always had been, no one expected her to sing well.
She didn't like the looks she got for her talent. They always made her nervous. They always made her unsettled and she was always worried she would try harder if she looked at them. So she kept her eyes closed. Her father used to yell at her for doing it when she performed, but she begged stage fright and most of the gentlemen she sang for forgave her. If they were offended she was later beaten for it, but few of them were. Most of them found it rather amusing, funny even. But her father never had.
Now Liana kept her eyes closed for a different reason. She felt badly and did not want to see the pain or pleasure, or whatever emotion was written on her new friend's face. She would imagine pain and sadness for that is what she would feel if she had to listen to a friend sing when she could not. It wasn't even for lack of trying Liana imagined. It was soley for a lack of the divine gift of a voice. It would be torture for her not to have a voice. She would not be able to live with that in the least. She doubted most people in the opera house would. Most people who lived learning music would not be able to.
Hesitantly, Liana opened her eyes and looked at her friend. She was crying. Biting her lip lightly in worry, Liana looked down at her feet. She knew she should not have sang. It was like putting food in front of a starving man and not allowing them to eat. It was cruel and she should not have done it no matter how the girl asked. And yet she had. The applause let Liana know that her friend had truely enjoyed it, and she forced a thankful smile, but she still felt guilty about the use of her voice. Especially considering she never sang that well for the opera. Only rarely when no one of consequence would hear.
A modest shake of her head was Liana's attempt to try and dispell the applause. She hated the sound after all. It was attention and praise that she did not deserve. She did not deserve applause for flaunting a gift she did not use infront of a girl who could not even dream of the privilage. "Please, do not applaude. It was just singing..."
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La Muta
Understudy
Parlare Non Male
Posts: 70
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Post by La Muta on Jul 11, 2008 3:06:47 GMT -5
Colombina stopped clapping, but she kept the smile on her face. The tears had dried, leaving little tracks on her face where they had cleared the slight accumulation of grime that was an attribute of her station in life. She saw the sympathy and guilt on her friend's face and in so seeing, was comforted. She did not like that she caused such feelings, for causing negative feelings when one did not mean to is a frustrating and shameful thing; yet still in the presence of sympathy and understanding the frustration was not allowed to bud and grow into anger or hurt.
She shook her head at Liana and put her hand to her heart, melting her shoulders forward and down and letting her head fall back a little. It was not just singing, after all, it was beautiful singing. Colombina did not like the way that Liana pulled into herself and denied the value of her talent. It was not natural. Had someone damaged her perception of what it was to be a singer, or how good she was at it?
Colombina looked Liana in the eyes sternly and nodded to affirm her meaning. Yes, she was very, very good, and Colombina was all right for it anyhow. She did not hurt because of Liana--she hurt because of herself, and wanting what could not be had. Others dreamed of creating the things that she did, but she would trade that all in for what she wanted. Perhaps if she had it she would not want it as much.
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Post by Liana Marceau on Jul 16, 2008 2:45:44 GMT -5
It seemed her newfound friend was pleased with her singing. She was more than pleased and impressed by the sound of the applause. Furthermore, it seemed by the motions of ectacy that Colombina was not upset by the singing. She wished she could do it and she was moved by the performance as most likely wittnessed by the clear streaks left by the tears that had cleared some dirt off of her friend's face. It was a true shame that Liana felt so ungrateful for her gift when people like Colombina clammored for it, but all her voice had brought her so far had been trouble, so why be thankful?
Still, it made her rethink things a bit watching the look of displeasure on her curious friend's face as she, in their own secret little language, once again affirmed that Liana's voice was indeed her gift. It was however, as Colombina could not understand, and would not understand for her own protection, a dangerous gift that could cost Liana her freedom if not used carefully. How Liana wished she could use it freely as her mother had used her and as her gypsy family from her mother's past used theirs. She longed for that freedom more than anything else knowing she could make a name and support herself just by singing in this very opera house. But to do so would be madness. Even with her false name she would become the darling of society and too easily spotted by her old peers, by her fiancee that she had run from, and by her father who she was more than sure was still hunting her with vengance on his mind.
It was then, with a small sad smile, that Liana merely could shake her head and blush at her friend with a small sigh to accompany the motion. She tried to force a wider smile and failed, but was distracted with the task of trying to change the subject, which she did quickly, with a glance over at the wedding dress Colombina had been tending too when she had fallen down the stairs and interrupted. "Trust me when I say I value your skill more than my own. Yours is at least practical! I cannot sew more than a button with out it turning into a mess."
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La Muta
Understudy
Parlare Non Male
Posts: 70
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Post by La Muta on Aug 27, 2008 20:11:46 GMT -5
La Muta watched the reluctant acquiescence to her praise drift across Liana's face and smiled encouragingly, measuring the smile. Not wonderful, but it was good progress. Surely, Liana deserved to smile truly more often, and appreciate her wonderful talent. She allowed the subject to be shifted, however, with a knowing smile to let Liana know that it had not slipped from her attention. She nodded, looking down at her pinpricked hands. Yes, she owed everything to her skill with this craft. She had no other real talent; at least, none developed enough to make a living off of. Beyond that, she was proud of her creations. It seemed to her that every one was better than the last. Unfortunately, she was rarely afforded the freedom to express herself fully in her profession, and she lacked the funds to purchase materials for purely creative endeavours.
With a modest shrug and a grateful smile, Colombina accepted the compliment. Looking down, she fingered the dress gingerly, thinking of all people of the prince--err, Duke? Earl?--that she had met earlier. She wondered briefly if he was married, and what sort of beautiful gown his bride had worn on her wedding day. She imagined him standing in wait with that certain bridegroom expression on his face for the faceless wife that approached. Her heart gave a painful throb in her chest at the image, but she smiled anyway, for it was a pretty picture, and she would rather not involve herself in the deeper meaning of that particular throb. Raising her eyes back up to Liana, she gestured at the dress, and then at her own ring ringer, and then at Liana with her customary questioning look. There was no ring on Liana's finger, but then, that hardly meant anything in the Opera House, when such baubles were taken off for performances and practices.
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Post by Liana Marceau on Sept 10, 2008 17:20:50 GMT -5
Well, it seemed her new friend at least was willing to give up on the quest for her to fully express her talent for now. There was something in Colombina's eyes that told Liana that this conversation, at least on the subject of her talents, was far from over and would be brought up again some day. Liana had to accept that at risk of loosing her new companion, but how could she tell her the truth. It was not that she did not appreciate her talent. It was not that she was ungreatful for it or wished for something else. It was merely that she could not express it, she could not admire it for fear of wanting to let it out into the open. Letting herself out into the open. The open and all the dangers that could find her there. How do you tell a new friend that? How do you tell someone that without fully endangering them. It would be a crime in itself.
It seemed, from the blank dreamy look in La Muta's eyes, that Liana was not the only one lost in her thoughts. Part of her wanted to ask the girl what she was thinking about. It looked lovely until a brief flash of pain crossed the girls face. Liana's brow furrowed in concern but she held her ground, if the girl wanted to tell her she would listen. She would not press to ask about such personal thoughts otherwise. After all, she did not want to share her own. It was only fair to have it both ways.
It seemed, however, that the other girl in the dank basement had come to her senses once again and was as full of questions as she was before. Liana smiled kindly and watched the most obvious pantomime yet, that of marriage.
Marriage was something Liana refused to think about. She had escaped from an unhappy engagement and she was not about to even think about returning her freedom. Her partial freedom at least, for what kind of freedom does a person truely own if they constantly live in fear. Liana smiled softly and shook her head. "No, truely I am not nor do I think I wish to be."
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La Muta
Understudy
Parlare Non Male
Posts: 70
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Post by La Muta on Sept 20, 2008 18:18:02 GMT -5
Colombina smiled in surprise and disbelief, but her eyes had a playful and almost admiring gleam. A woman not wish to marry? Well, perhaps it was common in the very young, but Liana appeared nearly a spinster now if she was not married. Still, she did not wish to be. That meant that she was either well off on her pay and quite happy with her current situation or one of the independent blue-stocking types. Or a romantic. Colombina was a foreigner and a working woman, hardly the type that got snagged for marriage within her first year abroad. She expected that she would be married within the following year, however, and though like every woman had some romantic notions was willing to except the reality of her position. Maybe Liana, though, was willing to wait for love.
La Muta's curious expression expressed her question for her without her usual shrugs or hand-gestures. She pried with her eyes, wanting to know more about Liana's single and independent state. It was a rare thing to find, and in some ways precious.
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Post by Liana Marceau on Nov 2, 2008 16:36:30 GMT -5
How do you explain and life story to a stranger. The stranger could not talk of course, but she could still communicate. Besides, it was far to dangerous to explain despite the curious look in the girl's eyes. It was a secret only one of her friends knew and only recently. Mori did not know of it, nor did anyone else she was close to in the opera house. Why should she tell this girl, this stranger of her sad and terrifying tale. She could not bear to even think of the danger involved. The girl could communicate, mistakes could be made and she could go back to her old life. That Liana would not tolerate. She could not even bear the thought of once again being a caged creature; being held on a short leash and paraded around in front of the toast of society as a dumb obedient wife. And the pain. She still had scars from her father and from what she had her of the man she had been intended to, well, she knew if she went back she may follow the same path as her mother and soon be in a cold grave.
But how to answer without answering. She could not tell the truth, but the girl's eyes clearly needed to be answered. You could not start a friendship completely on lines, omissions maybe, but not outright lies. Liana sighed and let her mouth relax into a small smile. For the girl's own good this acting was key. So she had to smile, she had to act nonchalant. Liana laughed weakly and shook her head. There had to be an excuse to keep the girl at ease. They both needed it. "It is not that I have any intentions against the institutions of marriage, but I find that these days, in the circumstances set before girls like us, that it is more advantageous and wise to dedicate one's life to one's arts. I find my happiness and well being is best protected that way. Don't you agree?"
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La Muta
Understudy
Parlare Non Male
Posts: 70
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Post by La Muta on Nov 10, 2008 22:14:16 GMT -5
She hesitated, but her features remained schooled into calm. Colombina smiled slowly, anticipating a very interesting answer. Perhaps love can come and gone sour for Liana. It would explain the unmarried state and the hesitation to answer. The answer that she received was indeed very interesting, and satisfied her with its insight and creativity. There was no doubt now that Liana was hiding something pertaining to her love life. Was he a member of the Populaire, though? Oh, the fun of wondering!
The speech was met with a vigorous nod and face full of silent laughter from the mute woman, but then placing a hand over her heart, she bat her eyelashes prettily--what of love, after all? Did not the prince marry Cinderella, Romeo marry Juliette, etc.? Liana was the kind of girl that Colombina could see marrying for love. Sweet, quiet, modest, beautiful, with a hidden talent just waiting to receive poetry in its honour; she was the princess of fairy tales. La Muta had to fight down the envy at that, and let her own feelings of pride for her new friend shine through. It was difficult, and only added a bit of shame to Colombina's feeligns, but it hardly through the brightness of her smile.
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Post by Liana Marceau on Nov 14, 2008 14:55:44 GMT -5
It seemed her new friend thought her as one of those careless romantic types who waited for true love. Truth was she would have stayed at home and entered into a marriage dictated by her father so long as he was kind and respected her. It was the way of the world and she for one did not believe in love, only trouble. Her mother thought she was in love and look what happened to her! So many thought that way, including Nicolette. It was sad that so many believed in the silly feeling when all there was in the world to find was deceit and lust. People, it seemed to Liana wanted each other for the advantages they brought into a relationship: fame, money, stability, happiness, bodily pleasure, beauty, acclaim...the list continued for ages. Liana for one was convinced it had always and would always be that way. Nothing would ever change in the world and love was something pretty that writers made up to sell books.
At least her friend found her amusing. It was better for her to be seen that way. Less suspicious at the very least. She would, in this way, remain just another silly love sick girl at the opera house. One of hundreds holding out like Mori for a kiss from the perfect stagehand, or one like the more greedy girl, a handsome patron they could use to climb the ranks and reach perfection, but still adore with all their hearts. Liana just wanted privacy and freedom. She wanted no man and she would see to it that she was invisible so no man could notice or want her. That had caused her enough trouble already.
A small sigh escaped Liana's lips as they turned slightly upward into a half smile and her eyes looked questionably into her friend's. "And what of you? Do you have a sweetheart or desire for marriage?"
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La Muta
Understudy
Parlare Non Male
Posts: 70
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Post by La Muta on Dec 21, 2008 20:51:22 GMT -5
With a sigh, Colombina leaned back against a crate and looked away, thinking over how she could reply to that. It was apparent that Liana was no romantic, and Colombina was--so, well, Liana would probably understand her predicament more than she, herself, did. She was marrying for security. She was engaged, and harboring a tender little dream of some prince (err, duke, or something...) who was very, very far from the fish-seller's son to whom she was a bride. Bride! She hadn't even thought of it that way. It added a nice little spin to things, but her heart still sank at the thought that she would be borrowing his mother's wedding dress (romantic, quite, except that it was very obviously too large) and marrying the fish-prince. She hadn't kissed him yet. Maybe when she did, he would suddenly love her and be extraordinarily rich and charming. He was handsome, that was good. But so shy, and when two shy people try to act romantic, it, uh... generally ends up a very quiet, very docile scene.
She shrugged. What else could she do? Extending one hand, she showed Liana the tiny little silver band, slightly beaten, that adorned the proper finger, and stared at it forlornly. Sometimes she dreamed that his shyness was just awe at her amazing beauty, but she was aware of the fact that she looked rather like a pond-creature or a frightened deer, so that dream held little worth. Looking back up at Liana and acting nonchalant, she opened her palm and rubbed two fingers together to show that it was not a marriage of love. It was more of a business proposition. He would be her life-long translator in a foreign country, making sure she never starved or was abused because of her disability, and she would give him a chance to do something other than sell fish. He could sell beautiful things, the beautiful things that she made. Somehow, she thought, they would be happy.
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Post by Liana Marceau on Dec 21, 2008 21:13:33 GMT -5
After years of witnessing an unhappy marriage Liana knew when someone was marrying for love and when someone was marrying for more economical purposes. She herself knew she was not destined for the prior marriage because she did not wish to have anyone hurt by her circumstances; especially someone she dearly loved. Liana also knew she would not marry for the second reason because she would not have an innocent man hurt, and she would not put herself through the same hell her mother had gone through, even if she had married for love, it had to be love on both sides. It seemed La Muta had misinterpreted her utterance. After all she had experienced Liana only believed in the purest of true love leading to the sacrament of marriage. She firmly believed no other kind would honor the deed as well. And to see the masked disappointment, well, no one should live through that.
A deep sigh was all Liana let up as she looked at the battered old ring and then back up at her friend. She did not force a smile as some girls might. She did not utter congratulations and false hopes for happiness for she could see in La Muta's face that there would be no such thing. And so Liana did the only thing she could. Her head tilted to the side and she met the girl before her in the eyes with perfect sincerity and concern. "Do you love him? I do not mean to pry. I know it is direct and rude of me to ask. But, it is my belief that one should not contemplate marriage unless they know it will be the most blissful of all things, and once again, forgive my impertinence but you look less than happy and no woman about to enter in such a state as marriage should settle for anything less."
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La Muta
Understudy
Parlare Non Male
Posts: 70
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Post by La Muta on Dec 23, 2008 2:19:57 GMT -5
Colombina had misjudged her friend's feelings. Such a speech as that did not speak of a woman who believed that love did not exist at all, though perhaps she still feared it. What a curious girl! La Muta had no doubt that something had happened to mix the poor woman's head up on that particular subject, and it was hardly a good something. She smiled a bit, indulgently, knowing that Liana spoke the truth. Love was wonderful. She had dreamed about it and loved the tales surrounding it her entire life, but now... well, it was harrowing living on one's own without proper communication, without being able to read and educate oneself, without an advocate. She had been able to obtain a job, but once it was discovered that she could not advocate for herself, the pay continued to drop. They were testing how far they could go before she left, and had already reached that point: she was being paid nothing but dingy, cold shelter and sparse, unappetising meals. If they reduced any more, she would see no reason to keep working where she was, and join a nunnery.
She did not want to join a nunnery. She did not want to stop creating the beautiful things that she created, because it was the only thing that she could do that was rewarding. She wanted to be able to sing, and the closest that she ever came to that dream was making costumes and imagining herself in them. M. Voler, her fiancé, could give her that. He could stop the fear, keep the stage-hands at bay, and she could live more comfortably doing what she did best. She saw no other way. Still... the prince's face came to mind, that smirk, and she clutched a hand to her heart. She should never have met him. She should never... oh, bother.
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