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| A Night At the Opera | |
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| Topic Started: 07/08/2008 - 03:39 pm (237 Views) | |
| Alandree | 07/08/2008 - 03:39 pm Post #1 |
 
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It was early evening, and the Populaire was heating up for the night performances of Hannibal. Madame Giry, who now did not have much else to do with the show, found herself descending the stairs from the instruction rooms above to the lobby below. She'd just finished today's final lesson for the younger ballet girls, who now tittered and pattered around the place, feeling the energy from the pending house show in the air. Though she'd not performed herself for years, the intensity and excitement that surfaced on these nights still wound her up. She was proud of Christine, who would no doubt wow audiences tonight with her performance. But something about this excitement was muted, especially today. Giry had gone to give Erik his monthly supplies last night, and discovered it was increasingly difficult to discuss Christine with him. Ever since that fool vicomte came to the House, Christine had been enveloped in his attention. Giry was reluctant to tell Erik of their being childhood sweethearts. Though she assumed he already knew anyway, so what was the point? She reached the bottom of the stairs now, sighing, and hoping her troubles weren't showing in her demeanor. Later she would watch the show, she supposed, but with less room for happiness. Guests were beginning to arrive now. The doors were propped open, and people began to cue up for admission. |
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PROFILE OVERHAULS 30/10/08! —-  -§- -§- -§- -–v Quote of the Moment v Babette wanted desperately to look behind her. To find a kind face...to find any other face...but all she saw was his: Pointed, dilapidated and thin, with odd, almost sickly yellowing skin. This, she concluded, was the first time she’d ever seen someone truly hideous. Inside and out. Babette Pomeroy A Day Trip to Downtown Paris | |
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| Nil | 28/08/2008 - 09:06 pm Post #2 |
Phantom
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A wooden cane crushed into the hard stone, as Axelle stuffed herself into the thick crowd of guests, which was only swelling. She knew that this was not the same event that M. DuChamps had referred to, but when she saw the poster for Hannibal, she figured that she should at least explore the possibility of joining an orchestra. This, she told herself, was research… expensive research, she thought bitterly. Looking around at all the colourful and flamboyant dresses, she felt underdressed and out of her element. She was not wearing her usual garb. No; she was fortunate to have found a dress lying on the ground. Of course, it was nothing magnificent, since whoever owned it obviously had not cared about whether or not it hung safely from the clothes line. It was a matted teal dress with a berta neckline. The bodice had a teal paisley design, embossed in what seemed like imitation black velvet… she knew for a fact that it was not real. The skirt was without a bustle, but it did have layers of black and teal fabric. It at least added some body to her otherwise boyish frame. Although the dress had hugged her lithe figure, it was obviously intended for someone much shorter than her, so it did not have the length she would have liked. So to cover up the immodest show of her calves, she… acquired a pair of high-topped black boots with a chunky heel, as well as matching black gloves. She would, naturally, sell these items for a good price after she no longer had use for them. She looked simple. Definitely not glamorous. But simple and clean. She was brought out of the realm of ‘poor’, and elevated to ‘rude youth who does not want to dress up’. She had washed herself at an inn not long ago, so her raven hair was still wet, and was tied in a loose bun by her neck. She tried her hardest to cover her many piercings, not quite wanting to remove them. She didn’t have any perfume, but the soap she had used smelled like pine. She figured that at least if she used M. DuChamp’s name, she would not bring as much shame to him as she would in her usual outfit Her gaze was absent as she tried to tally up a price for her items. When she saw the crowd move forward, she instinctively put the cane in front of her, but received a bit of a shock when the tip did not hit the ground. She heard the woman in front of her squeal with pain as the profusion of skin around her thick ankles was pinched between the top of her glossy shoes and the hard tip of Axelle’s wooden cane. Axelle managed to straighten out, but she couldn’t say the same for the large woman before her. Having been so shocked, she had completely fallen over with another devastated shriek… and she was having a hard time getting back up, spitting hateful remarks. Axelle, who was already nervous in the first place, did the first thing she thought she was supposed to do, and immediately reached out her cane for the woman to grab hold of. Being as light and injured as she was, her actions were actually counterproductive, and she ended up toppling on to the woman. The woman’s eyes widened with horror. Axelle immediately scampered back into place and padded herself down. “ 'Scuz—ehm. Excusez.” She immediately tweaked her accent a bit, although she couldn’t help a hint of sarcasm creep into her tone of voice. This, naturally, set off another outburst from the overweight woman… something Axelle had instinctively shut out. What she found hard to ignore were the stares and coughes from the people around her. So much for laying low.... |
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| Alandree | 29/08/2008 - 03:19 pm Post #3 |
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Mme. Giry had not moved from her spot as the crowd grew to be well populated. The same old clientele of coarse. Some familiar faces. Some she'd acquainted herself with before, be them previous patrons or ex-sopranos. No one she had the urge to greet however. Unfortunately, her social conscience kicked in. It would be rude not to say hello to Signore Riccitiello, who happened to be standing at the head of the line, right in plain view of her. He was the cousin of a tenor who was understudying tonight, not to mention a friendly acquaintance with the Populaire's former manager, M. Lefevre. Given the fact that his wife, Signora Baker Riccitiello, was also there, Giry had no choice but to smooth the front of her dress and make her way over. The wife looked just as pink and snide as before. She was just about to open her mouth to greet them, when another woman was toppled over. This naturally made the entire crowd scatter like field mice, at least in the tittering of their voices, given her size and the rumbling she made when she hit the ground. She seemed to have been set afoul by a young girl with a cane. It was difficult to tell if she'd tripped her or not. Giry was struck aghast, and her eyes widened, mostly out of surprise, rather than concern. The girl offered the lady her cane, but ended up on top of her instead. It was a queer situation all and all. She, Giry, was not about to go help the fat woman herself. Giry was no hostess. Though it would most likely have been better for her reputation if she did. That made her think of that incident the other week with the background piece falling on Guidicelli, for some reason. Sighing, Giry looked over at the girl, who had at this point skittered back in line. She looked quite frail, and this only added to her overall reluctance to provide support to the fallen woman. She who'd cursed her out so. She looked barely old enough to be out at all, let alone walk about with a cane like an old dame. |
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PROFILE OVERHAULS 30/10/08! —- -§--§--§--–v Quote of the Moment v Babette wanted desperately to look behind her. To find a kind face...to find any other face...but all she saw was his: Pointed, dilapidated and thin, with odd, almost sickly yellowing skin. This, she concluded, was the first time she’d ever seen someone truly hideous. Inside and out. Babette Pomeroy A Day Trip to Downtown Paris | |
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| Nil | 29/08/2008 - 07:58 pm Post #4 |
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Phantom
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Axelle let her mind wander, the curses and spiteful remarks playing in the background. That's what she often did in situations such as these. She let the insults roll off of her like water on an oily surface. Listening to such an outburst was just not worth it. Her eyes scanned the scenery, taking in the glamour, the sparkly outfits, the magnificent opera house. The more she obsereved, the more she was amazed. From the bottom of her peripheral vision, she could see a bunch of gentlemen bending down to pry the woman from the dirty ground. But Axelle was focused on something else. As she was taking note of the building's interiour design, her impassive eyes fell upon a rather stern-looking woman. She immediately felt intimidated. Was she the woman she'd have to talk to? To work with everyday? Axelle was suddenly unsure, and felt quite powerless. The upperclass had a knack for doing so, it seemed. She was torn from her observations when the fat one was brought to her feet, rising like a gigantic tidal-wave. She came up close, her shoulders back and risen. Axelle thought for a moment that she was going to recieve quite the smack. Plus the proximity was getting uncomfortable. So she stepped back and held her cane out in front of her, pressing it into the woman's gut. "I'd appreciate it, madame, if you'd respect my personal space." She said rather coolly. She figured that she had already established quite a negative impression for herself, so she gave up on trying to be polite. |
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| Alandree | 30/08/2008 - 02:54 pm Post #5 |
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As soon as the woman had been righted, again the girl went back to her, this time poking her in the stomach. She had quite some nerve, indeed. Obviously there was no choice but to intervene now. She sighed, and rolled her eyes a little, before walking over, slowly, to the two. Giry held up her hands tentatively, with a look of apprehensive expectancy at the fat one. Other than that, there was really nothing more she could bring herself to do, besides wait, and try to look like she was concerned. The ballet girls, the beginner pupils, had been let out at last. They all clambered to the dressing rooms to change into their frocks. A group of them had made plans to see the show tonight, a group which had included Babette. They were all extremely giddy and energized, as is common among young girls when they've finally been released from lessons and discipline. As soon as Madame Giry exited down the stairs, they all began twittering on about their favourite actors to be featured. Babette put on her most expensive attire, a lovely golden dress with white crinolines and braiding. She felt quite lavish. Her companions went ahead to the balconies, as something caught Babette's attention as they went by the grand stairs. Someone had fallen down in the lobby. Babette held the railing and crouched down to look through the marble posts, wishing not to be seen. The children were not allowed to pester the patrons. Her hoop skirt pooled around her, concealing her bare feet. She saw Madame Giry walking towards a big woman and a littler one with a stick. This made her blink a few times with confusion. |
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PROFILE OVERHAULS 30/10/08! —- -§--§--§--–v Quote of the Moment v Babette wanted desperately to look behind her. To find a kind face...to find any other face...but all she saw was his: Pointed, dilapidated and thin, with odd, almost sickly yellowing skin. This, she concluded, was the first time she’d ever seen someone truly hideous. Inside and out. Babette Pomeroy A Day Trip to Downtown Paris | |
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| Nil | 30/08/2008 - 03:53 pm Post #6 |
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Phantom
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Hearing the clap of shoes against the hard ground, Axelle's gazed swerved to see to who seemed to be the hostess approaching. She swallowed, getting somewhat nervous. Her eyes followed the thin figure as she came closer. She barely knew that woman, and already she respected her. Her solid stance, her stern gaze all pertaned to an authoritarian figure. Axelle's eyes came into contact with hers for not more than a second before Axelle tore hers away. She withdrew her cane and looked back at the overweight woman. The instant she gazed upon the swollen, red face, however, her pride came back with full force. Her face was expressionless, if not somewhat smug. This, naturally, aggravated the fat one. But she held back another outburst. Her restraint added even more redness to her face. She turned towards the hostess and bowed her head. "Madame." Axelle remained silent. |
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| Alandree | 30/08/2008 - 04:08 pm Post #7 |
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Giry blinked, and stepped back as the woman at last focused on her, "I...trust there is to be...no more trouble." It was a question, or rather a statement, to both of them, essentially. She said it without much conviction though. Again, it just was not her job to solve these sort of problems. Her eyes wandered to the odd and hot-tempered girl, dropping her stance as well as her arms, before stepping back even further. Hopefully that one would not cause trouble during the show. Sighing, Giry tucked some fly-away hair behind her ear, feeling slightly awkward, and turned her attention to the Riccitiellos. "Lovely to see you both." A bit lackluster, that. But she just couldn't say much of anything else at the moment. With a stiff curtsy to the couple, Giry eyed the fat woman and the girl once more, before turning to go back to where she came. More out of the novelty of spying than actual interest in the goings-on, Babette settled herself down to sit, sticking her toes between the posts and wiggling her toes excitedly. All those fancy, pompy-pants people were rather silly looking and over-dressed. Except that girl with the stick. She looked like she'd wandered in by accident. Then she went and poked the fat madame in the stomach! That got a giggle out of her, Babette. She hoped it wasn't too loud, as she was a bit late in covering up her mouth to remain unnoticed. |
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PROFILE OVERHAULS 30/10/08! —- -§--§--§--–v Quote of the Moment v Babette wanted desperately to look behind her. To find a kind face...to find any other face...but all she saw was his: Pointed, dilapidated and thin, with odd, almost sickly yellowing skin. This, she concluded, was the first time she’d ever seen someone truly hideous. Inside and out. Babette Pomeroy A Day Trip to Downtown Paris | |
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| Nil | 30/08/2008 - 08:42 pm Post #8 |
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Phantom
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Axelle nodded her head somewhat mindlessly at the hostess' request. When the hostess walked away, she fixed the swollen woman with a stare. The larger woman, now sweaty with her hair and hat toppled, was still visibly livid. "Madame." Axelle said frigidly, hoping to finally dismiss her. The fat one harrumphed and finally turned around. She let out a long breath. She had been in trouble many times before, but the thought of ruining a job opportunity made her heart race... especally around such a harsh-looking woman. The regular buzz of voices rang throughout the lobby. She was just about to get lost in the din, when the distinct sound of a child's giggle broke through the monotony of merging voices. Axelle immediately looked upwards. A few strands of hair slid free from the elastic holding it in place as she whirrled around in search for the source. |
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| Alandree | 02/09/2008 - 02:45 pm Post #9 |
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Her toes curled as she saw the stick-holding girl look up at her. And Mme. Giry coming towards her as well! She was done for now. Oh, dash it all! Surely Mme. Giry would see her now, and she couldn't very well run away, it would only further point out her existance. Instead, she chose to eye the girl below, timidly. Giry indeed had seen the girl. It was intolerable to have a student near the guests. At this particular moment, however, she was feeling less than enthusiastic, even when it came to discipline. She stopped at the foot of the stairs and eyed little Pomeroy as sternly as she could, folding her arms and tapping with a finger. Babette sucked in her lips in a customary manner, shrinking further down onto the floor until she lay on her stomach. Perhaps Mme. Giry'd just let her watch. She asked this with a mouthed 'Pleeease?' and a mournful, simpering expression. |
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PROFILE OVERHAULS 30/10/08! —- -§--§--§--–v Quote of the Moment v Babette wanted desperately to look behind her. To find a kind face...to find any other face...but all she saw was his: Pointed, dilapidated and thin, with odd, almost sickly yellowing skin. This, she concluded, was the first time she’d ever seen someone truly hideous. Inside and out. Babette Pomeroy A Day Trip to Downtown Paris | |
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| Nil | 03/09/2008 - 08:35 pm Post #10 |
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Phantom
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When Axelle's eyes fell upon the child, they were impassive at first. she didn't quite know how to deal with children all that well. Real children, anyway. The ones on the streets could hardly be counted as children. They all had little bodies and high-pitched voices, but their minds had already been corrupted with a harsh reality. The purity and hopefullness in this girl's eyes was enough to form a soft smile on Axelle's face. Besides whch, it was nice to see something simple amongst this sea of foppery. All the bright and lavish colours were starting to make her eyes sore. Then she spoted the hostess giving the little girl a rather patronising look. She couldn't really comprehend why. The kid was not causing any kind of disturbance. Were children not alowed on the premises? No; that's impossible. Some younger youths stood around with a bored expression on ther faces. Others were already starting to whine and recieving harsh comments from their parents. Bah! She would never comprehend this upper class system. It frustrated and irritated her, and in a way, she was glad not be be a part of it. Axelle brought her attention back to the exchange between the little girl and the harsh-looking woman. Watching how a child was supposed to act had somewhat fascinated her. When the younger one mouthed her request, Axelle brought her gaze onto the older female, waitng to see how she'd react. |
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| Alandree | 05/09/2008 - 06:52 pm Post #11 |
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At that moment, the ancient door-openers went to work at last. Two old men in worn attire revealed the inside of the theater. The line of guests began shuffling in to their seats. Giry looked to them from Babette a moment, hoping in the back of her mind that de Chagny would not be seated in box five. Drawing a hard breath, she tore here eyes away to nod up at the girl, exasperated and resigned. Not one to hold back, she grinned and grinned before leaping to her feet once more. Swinging around the railing to jump onto the stairs, Babette descended gleefully. Her gold skirts bounced along behind her like penants for her own kingdom. That's what she thought of them, anyway. In her haste, Babette nearly tripped over said skirts. Happily, her training was perhaps paying off, since she turned the trip into a little leap, landing in front of her ballet mistress at last. "Are you going to watch tonight, Madame?" She asked, rocking on the balls of her feet. Before hearing an answer, she peered around Giry and looked at the odd girl. |
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PROFILE OVERHAULS 30/10/08! —- -§--§--§--–v Quote of the Moment v Babette wanted desperately to look behind her. To find a kind face...to find any other face...but all she saw was his: Pointed, dilapidated and thin, with odd, almost sickly yellowing skin. This, she concluded, was the first time she’d ever seen someone truly hideous. Inside and out. Babette Pomeroy A Day Trip to Downtown Paris | |
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| Sieglinde | 06/09/2008 - 01:30 am Post #12 |
Inspector Javert / Erik / Lucien
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The man who called himself "The Angel of Music" was satisfied. Christine will shine tonight, and the audience will forget that stupid Italian bitch. Sometimes Erik felt sorry for Carlotta. That poor creature didn't even know how bad she was. Everybody said she's a wonderful prima donna, but Erik's sensitive ears said she's terrible. Not to mention a hysterical, vain, unbearable female. As he was dressing for the evening, knotting his tie, he smiled into the mirror. His little angel will show what a real prima donna is. He sighed. Why have they play this stupid Hannibal? The music is mediocre and old-fashioned. Of course, if Christine sings it, it's beautiful, but Erik liked only a few componists, who were geniuses like him. After Christine's victory, he'll send a couple of nice letters to the directors about what operas should they play. The best roles for Christine's voice. He knew very well what would fit for her. Lucia, Gilda, Violetta, Constanza, Lakme, Norina. Maybe later, Donna Anna, Norma, Leonora from Il trovatore or the Queen of Night. But not yet - he will protect her voice. That stupid Carlotta sang everything - and she may had a voice once, but it was ruined. And she haven't noticed it... yet. He was finished with the dressing. He put a letter to his pocket, and holding a red rose, went out if his realm. Nobody saw him - he had his secret ways. And shortly after, a letter was on the floor, near to Giry, with the well-known red skull seal. It said only: "I want to talk with you, Dorée. Come into Carlotta's dressing room when you have time - it is empty now." And Erik, waiting in said room, smiled. It will either remain empty or it will belong to Christine soon. |
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| Nil | 07/09/2008 - 03:31 pm Post #13 |
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Phantom
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Axelle's attention was all over the place. Which was rather unusual for her. Then again, this entire situation was unusual. By default, she then supposed, her reaction could be counted as 'usual'. Of course, minimising this experience to logical terms was just suppose to lessen the otherwise chaotic effect. When the doors opened, her eyes were automatically drawn to the interiour of of theatre. It was gorgeous. She had never really seen anything like it before. The performance hall that belonged to the pub she used to work at could not compare to anything like this. The size was gargantuan, the luxury overwhelming. Everyone in front and behind her immediately precipitated towards the opened doors. The wave of people had caught by surprise, and she found herself smothered in no time. Everyone, it seemed, was going at the same pace. Axelle, however, was left behind, getting pushed and shoved and squished. She hated crowds. Eventually, she managed to squeeze herself from the flow of people, and escaped near the staircase, where the child and the hostess stood. The first thing that caught her eye was a letter by the older woman's feet, with a rather gruesome red seal. Was this normal? The seal made her somewhat uneasy... but perhaps this was a form of communication? Why were things SO complicated around here? |
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| Alandree | 07/09/2008 - 03:47 pm Post #14 |
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Babette gasped, as the letter fluttered down, as if struck from the ceiling. It had a seal, the seal the entire Populaire knew well. The Phantom's. "Madame!" Her eyes rounded and widened, and she pointed down at the envelope in awe. She had never actually seen Giry communicate with the Ghost, though from the gossip which flew from girl to girl like wildfire, she had most definitely heard tell of it. "Is that...from the ghost?" She began to feel a tingling in the pit of her stomach, as well as in the tips of her fingers. A supernatural experience of her very own! The girl clutched at her skirts with excitement, transfixed by the fallen object. Of coarse. An absolutely perfect time for Erik to give her a message. Her fists clenched, as did her jaw, as she bit back the anger that arose from the 'oh, so mysterious' letter. After a moment, trying to cool her head, and pretending she hadn't noticed, she finally bent knee and picked it up, thumbing the wax skull as she always did. "Yes, it is." No use trying to dissuade the child. She had seen it plain as day, just as Giry herself had. Not as if she were frightening her anew. They'd all gotten their first frights after the incident with the falling set piece. Sighing, she rubbed her temples and stuck the note in her skirts, not daring to open it now. Not when there were still guests filing out, nor when little Pomeroy was right in front of her. "Oh, but won't tha go and open it now?" She pleaded, her shoulders slumping a little in disappointment, her accent slipping into place. Her mother had instructed her to reform her speech, since Yorkshire might be difficult for 'foreigners' to understand. Oh, my, but it was difficult for the poor girl. "How...I do want to see the ghost's hand..." |
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PROFILE OVERHAULS 30/10/08! —- -§--§--§--–v Quote of the Moment v Babette wanted desperately to look behind her. To find a kind face...to find any other face...but all she saw was his: Pointed, dilapidated and thin, with odd, almost sickly yellowing skin. This, she concluded, was the first time she’d ever seen someone truly hideous. Inside and out. Babette Pomeroy A Day Trip to Downtown Paris | |
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| Nil | 07/09/2008 - 07:16 pm Post #15 |
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Phantom
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A ghost? Was that a GHOST ghost? Or some kind of code word? Who knew? Maybe she was trying to hide someone? A lover, perhaps? That would make a simple explaination for a lot of things. Any child would fall for something like that. And the stamp? Could be some kind of charade. The next question was, why would she hide something like that? Maybe the kids heard noises? Sure; blame it on the ghosts. But then, one would think, the kids wouldn't want to bring it up again. This child sure was curious... wanting to see the ghosts hand and all. So maybe they were talking about a real ghost? Maybe that's how they referred to God? She wouldn't know; she always considered herself as agnostic. She remembers something about a holy ghost... some kind of spirit thing. It was all bogus to her. Axelle was getting more and more frustrated trying to decipher this foreign language of theirs. First letters with skulls on them and now... "Ghosts? Are you serious?" She meant to say it under her breath; really, she did. But it translated through her mouth a little louder than that. |
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| Alandree | 07/09/2008 - 07:30 pm Post #16 |
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"Oh yes." Replied Babette, friendly, but a bit surprised that the older girl had been listening! "He's the Phantom of the Opera!" She went round Giry to pad towards her, noticing how cold the marble floor was. It was always exciting to tell someone new about him. She'd never actually had the chance to do it herself, so she relished this opportunity with gusto. "No onnas seen 'im, except Madame Giry. He sends her notes." By this time Babette was in front of her, and she looked up with excitement. "They say he has a Death's Head." "Babette Pomeroy!" Giry scolded, rushing over at the mentioning of the Death's Head. That was a bit much, she thought. Normally she didn't intervene when it came to the girls informing new students about the ghost. But this girl wasn't even a student, for God's sake. Giry came to rest her hands on Babette's shoulders, "I apologize Mademoiselle. You mustn't pay mind to her. You should be off to enjoy the show, no?" |
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PROFILE OVERHAULS 30/10/08! —- -§--§--§--–v Quote of the Moment v Babette wanted desperately to look behind her. To find a kind face...to find any other face...but all she saw was his: Pointed, dilapidated and thin, with odd, almost sickly yellowing skin. This, she concluded, was the first time she’d ever seen someone truly hideous. Inside and out. Babette Pomeroy A Day Trip to Downtown Paris | |
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| Sieglinde | 08/09/2008 - 05:25 am Post #17 |
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Inspector Javert / Erik / Lucien
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If Erik could hear the conversation, he would be amused. They think him something supernatural... well, to be honest, he cherished these beliefs himself. People are so naive and superstitious. Waiting in Carlotta's room, and bored, he looked around. What could he do to annoy that cow? Steal the strings from all her corsets? Dust her wigs with sneezing-powder? Smuggle a frog into her favourite costume? Not good enough... He smiled. Yes, sometimes he was childish. Cut her hair when she sleeps... AND dust the wigs with the powder? A little better, but not the best. He shall thinking... but now, he wasn't really angry. Carlotta was far away, and his Christine will sing tonight. Christine... Erik closed his eyes and he saw clearly the angelic girl. "She's too beautiful for me. I know. But maybe... maybe, this night..." He knew his hopes are vain. Christine loved him as a master, as her angel, but if she'd see his real face... And he can't hide it forever. Why are the gods so cruel with him? Why had he born as a monster? Questions he asked hundreds of times. But this night will be his triumph. He will show Christine his realm... and he can't make a mistake. Not tonight. Tonight even the gods love him. Edited by Sieglinde, 08/09/2008 - 05:26 am.
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| Nil | 08/09/2008 - 07:51 pm Post #18 |
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Phantom
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Axelle instinctively took a step back when the little girl charged at her; well, that was how she translated it, anyway. The little one didn't seem to take heed and came right up close. Axelle was a little stumped about what to do or how to react. She was not used to children. The girl certainly meant no harm; she was chippery and talkative and very personable. Still, Axelle could not help but feel a little stiffled, and ended up retreating by another step. She couldn't help but blink a few times as the little girl so avidly described this Phantom of the Opera. She could see how this type of story would excite a child to such a degree. Axelle feigned attention, not wanting to insult the little girl. She was being extra cautious, almost as if trying not to corrupt a being of such hope and innocence. With what she was unable to tell. Perhaps she was just being protective? She wouldn't wish such hardships she's seen on the streets upon any child. They deserved to have a chance at hope. At the sound of the older woman's voice, she straightened out her posture. Biting her lower lip, she peerd at the crowd. It was still a little thick for her taste. She would rather wait a while longer and risk having a poor view; not that she was assigned such a great one in the first place. Looking back at the hostess straight in the eye, she decided to sieze the opportunity. She was going to ask for a spot in the orchestra. Or, at least to be considered as a possible candidate. An odd feeling came over her; one that she wasn't all that familiar with; nerves. Her palms became sweaty and her heart beat fast. She crushed her cane into the marble floor with both hands to lessen the effect of their shaking. Luckily enough, her voice was very much controlled. "Madame, would you..." Her nerves got the better of as she was about to name her request. She coughed to cover it up and found a quick scapegoat, although a rather untraditional one. She was probably going to regret this... She apologized and moved on seemlessly "Would you like me to take care of the child? I'm sure you are a very busy woman. Besides, this Phantom story is rather fascinating." Damn. She ruined it; and she knew next time (granted that there WILL be a next time), it would only be that much harder. |
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| Alandree | 08/09/2008 - 08:04 pm Post #19 |
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"Care for her? And who, may I ask, are you to propose such a responsibility?" She clutched Babette's shoulders more tightly at this, frowning delicately. Her tone was not so much scolding, as cautious, and inquisitive. It appeared that this young mademoiselle was not here for the show. "Do you have some business with the Populaire?" Babette sucked in a breath, folding her lips inward. She was rather odd looking, this girl. With her dress and her gaunt face and her stick. She couldn't for the life of her remember what they were called. Walking sticks. Something. Saying nothing, she didn't chance it, instead waiting for her to respond. Was she an actress? She was certainly...unusual enough to be. At least in appearance. Babette hoped she wasn't a loony. Giry could practically feel the note burning in the folds of her skirt. Erik did not enjoy being kept waiting. It would most likely be wise to send Babette back upstairs after this. She wouldn't have her hanging about down here. Perhaps this older girl was a vagrant of some kind. A con artist perhaps? Several nefarious occupations came to mind, but she tried not to assume anything too harshly. Yet. "The Opera Ghost is...a subject our girls find no bounds in speculating over. He has become a part of the theatre itself." |
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PROFILE OVERHAULS 30/10/08! —- -§--§--§--–v Quote of the Moment v Babette wanted desperately to look behind her. To find a kind face...to find any other face...but all she saw was his: Pointed, dilapidated and thin, with odd, almost sickly yellowing skin. This, she concluded, was the first time she’d ever seen someone truly hideous. Inside and out. Babette Pomeroy A Day Trip to Downtown Paris | |
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| Nil | 08/09/2008 - 08:39 pm Post #20 |
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Phantom
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Axelle's jaw clenched tight at the response, feeling really quite silly. Of course, she couldn't blame her. She obviously had not thought this through. Aw damn, she was only ruining her self image more and more by the moment. It was then she felt a hot rush flood to her cheeks. And now she was blushing; perfect. At the next question, she felt another spike of heat. She cleared her thorat again. "A-actually, madame..." She never felt so nervous in her life. Come on, she told herself, you play fearlessly infront of millions of people a day. Surely, you can handle this. She reached into her dress and pulled out the invtation M. DuChamps gave to her. Not the classiest thing to do, but she figured she had already reached rock bottom. Her hads shook visibly. Just by mentioning his name in such as situation was probably doing him more harm than he deserved. "I know this is not the right event, but... erm. This-this was given to me by a certain M. DuChamps. I'm a flautist, you see..." She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and hoped this woman was able to fill in the blanks. At the moment, she was a little too flustered to ask for anything. Of course, Axelle noticed that she didn't look all that patient. |
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