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The Marriage of Figaro
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Juliane Smith
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 12:51 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Jolyon rocked from heel to toe and back again. He thought he heard some giggles beyond the doorway, and even the shadows of shapes near windows. If he was under surveillance, he realized, it might be best not to fidget. So, he stood still and waited for the door to open, holding the corsage in one hand.

A sigh of relief was offered up to the heavens when her mother stepped in to stop Gabby from flinging the door wide. Alone in the hallway, she took a breath before opening the door, a soft smile on her face. "Good evening." She spoke lightly, but with concentration, polishing every syllable properly.

At the sight of her, backlit by the lights behind her, she very nearly looked like she had a halo and was the manifestation of an angel. He did have the good sense not to gape, but the smile was wide in appreciation of her elegant form. "Good evening, Juliane. You look beautiful." He offered up the corsage, though, upon further review of her gown, was uncertain where she might pin it.

She blushed softly, lowering her head and dipping in a quick curtsey. "Thank you." Movement sent the skirt to moving, moonlight clinging in the pleats as they moved. Eyes were lifted to his as she reached out for the gift, pausing a moment to inhale the delicious scent of the roses. "The gift is very sweet of ya, Jolyon."

"I hope you like roses." He looked past her to see what lay beyond, and then back. One hand played with a cuff link. "Do you need to get anything before we go?" He looked past her again. He felt he should meet her mother before he took the daughter to the opera, but he did not know what the traditions were and did not want to presume.

A nod then, the smile growing. "I do like 'em. Jus' haven't had anyone give me some before." Voices behind her were muffled and she looked over her shoulder and then back to where the curricle awaited. "No, I have everythin'.." Lifting her things from the hall table. "Johnny and Si are bringin' a carriage, but they're runnin' late." She was just as lost at the protocol as he was.

Daring on the side of a faux pas, he leaned in a bit to speak in a whisper. "Perhaps I should meet your mother before I take her daughter off in a carriage?" His blue eyes met with her green with an inquisitive raise of his brows.

She leaned in as well, her own voice dipping low while her eyes sparked with mischief. "Yeah, but if ya meet her, ya have ta meet Gabby and then ya might not want th' daughter ta use th' extra ticket much less ride wi' ya." A flashing wink as she straightened slightly. "But it's yer choice."

He laughed, "I have a little sister. I think I might know what you mean. Come, let your mother meet me. She may take one look and demand my tickets, having you sit with her and me with your brother." It was a bit nerve racking, but he hoped the last statement remained a joke and did not come true. "Just a quick hello, and then we will be on our way."

Holding up her hands, she stepped to the side and let him enter the house. "Very well. I'd reccomend keepin' yer fingers crossed." Grinning broadly, she called into the kitchen "Mama? Gabby? Would ya like ta meet Jolyon?"

He lifted one hand briefly to show crossed fingers and gave her a cheeky grin. It did, however, puzzle him that she did not want him to meet her mother. He wondered if it was something about him. A subtle glance over his clothes that he could see and all seemed in order. The shoes were even on the correct feet. Being careful not to reveal the frown of thought as he contemplated the reasons, the smile remained.

Marian Smith was a kind woman, the personification of motherly. Her eyes a pale green swept Jolyon from top to bottom as she bustled out of the kitchen and into the hall. "Ahhh, Mr... Jolyon. A pleasure ta meet ya." She held out her hand as her daughter Gabby followed her forward. The girl's greeting much more pared down. "Hiya."

Taking the hand, he gave a friendly, mild shake in greeting. "Likewise, Mrs. Smith." A grin to Gabby, "Hello." Sharing the grin between the two, "I hope you are looking forward to the opera as much as I am." Directing his words to Mrs. Smith, "I wanted to let you know if Juliane has not as yet, we will be in box seven, if for any reasons you need to get in touch with her." Polite introductions done, the mother having seen him and informed as to where her daughter could be found, he offered his arm to Juliane. "We will see you all there then, yes?"

Gabby shrugged a bit and headed back up the stairs, but Marian brushed things over smoothly. "Ah yes, yes. We'll be along soon enough. Jus' waitin' for Johnny and Sianna." Juliane giggled softly as she linked her arm through his, her own fingers crossed. "Bye Mama, see you at th' theater."

He lead her to the door, opened it for her. The method repeated as the approached the curricle, offering a helping hand up and being sure her dress was in no danger of the wheel. "See, that was harmless. Your sister did not seem like she was at all eager to be there." He went around to the other side, claiming the reins.

A chuckle escaped her as she tried to situate the wrap around her and tug on the gloves, only to realize how they complicated attaching the corsage. "She's never eager ta be anywhere but th' farm. But no sense in stayin' out there while the heavy freeze was on." Fingers fumbling to work the corsage pin into the knit cashmere.

"Here, let me help you." He looped the reins again so the horse would not go anywhere and reached to help with the pin. Having no gloves and with years of working on excavations he had a delicate and precise touch when needed, he made easy work of the corsage pinning. "There," he smiled. "You are quite the vision, Juliane. Thank you for accepting my invitation." He took up the reins again, gave a soft flick and urging click of his tongue, and the horse lead on with the guiding turn towards the theatre.

She chuckled again, softly. Cheeks were flushed again but she hoped he wrote it off to just the excitement of the evening. "Thanks ta ya for inviting me ta use the ticket." Settling back in the leather seat and letting her eyes travel to the other vehicles bearing passengers in the same direction.

[[ Adapted from live play. ]]
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 2:22 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

The royal carriage of Westridge rode up to the Opera House, pulled by four white horses. The coachman stepped off the back of the carriage and opened the door. Gavilean Starfare stepped out of the carriage and stood at the door and then helped his beautiful wife as she regally exited the coach.

The King and Queen of Westridge were dressed not in their customary regalia of Westridge, but in more modern fashion; Gav in a full and modern tux and Tera in a one-of-a-kind outfit made with gold and silver threads woven into the elaborate pattern. Around her neck she wore pearls set displayed in a lovely pattern with small rubies, sapphires and emeralds that gave it a unique pattern that matched the top. Diamond earrings hung from her ear and her hair was worn long and styled in the way Gavilean loved it the most. Gavilean and Tera never missed a formal affair, and tonight they were anything but the bartenders and reporters that they often volunteered their time for the sake of the city.

Gavilean offer her his arm and they walked to the door and inside the Opera House. “I’ve been so looking forward to this, m’love. The Marriage of Figaro is one of my favorite operas. I just love the way it starts with the room be measured off for the marriage bed. Mozart is pure genius. I never tire of his music.”

They continued to speak in whispers and greeted those whom they met in the lobby. When it was time to enter they walked to the door and Gavilean took the tickets from the inner pocket of the tux and gave it to the gentleman at the door.

“Good eve, Your Majesties,” said the man taking the tickets. “You are patrons of the arts and a benefactor of the opera, I feel foolish taking your tickets.”

Gavilean smiled, “If we had no tickets, I’m afraid our seats would be fully occupied when we arrived.” He took the stub and let the usher take them to their seats.

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Katarina Smith
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 2:25 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

“Five minutes, places everyone!”

Katarina lifted her leg slightly to put the arch of her navy ballet slippers under the running water. Since it was the female dancers that opened the show, they all waited in line for the last minute details.

“Hey, Rini,” Andy came up beside her, and even as she moved on to the next station to powder the tops of her shoes, he followed, “I think someone put something on your chair. It looks like-“

“Yanno, now is nah a good time.” A quick glance down to make sure her outfit was in working order, before all the women were ushered onto the stage.

“Yeah, but-“

Her smile pasted on her lips, she sent him a last glance and said through her teeth in a whisper, “Nah now!” She practically ran to the middle of the stage and had only moments to compose before several candles were blown out and the curtains parted.

Programs were given to each and every viewer with synopsis of the opera, particularly for those whom did not understand italian. It also listened every member in the opera, down to every musician, singer, and dancer.

“Act I

Figaro is measuring a space for his nuptial bed while his fiancée, Susanna, tries on her bridal hat. She doesn't like their new bedroom and when Figaro doesn't understand why, Susanna warns Figaro that it's too convenient for the Count who is plotting with another to sleep with her. Susanna goes off when the Countess rings for her. Alone, Figaro vows revenge and storms off in a cold rage.

Dr. Bartolo enters with his housekeeper, Marcellina. Figaro once promised to marry her, and Bartolo promises to find a way to make him do it. Bartolo goes off to put his scheme into effect. Susanna returns, and Marcellina jealously spars with her, making Marcellina go off in a huff. The teenaged page Cherubino (played by a young woman) now enters. He tells Susanna that he is in love with the Countess, but the Count has caught him with young Barbarina (Susanna's cousin and the gardener Antonio's daughter). Cherubino can't contain his romantic desires.

Cherubino hides behind a chair when the Count arrives to beg Susanna for a tryst before he goes to London with Figaro on diplomatic business. But his wooing is interrupted by the arrival of Don Basilio, and it's the Count's turn to hide. He heads for the same chair where Cherubino is hiding, forcing the boy to jump into the seat. Susanna hastily covers him with a cloth. Hearing Basilio's insinuating gossip about Cherubino and the Countess, the jealous Count reveals himself. Basilio of course concludes that the Count and Susanna are an item. This is all too much for Susanna, who begins to faint. The Count and Basilio rush to her aid and try to get her into the chair, but she revives just in time and orders them away. The Count vows to make Cherubino leave the castle. When Susanna expresses sympathy for the boy, the Count tells her that it's not the first time Cherubino has been caught with a female. Recalling how he found the page hiding under a tablecloth in Barbarina's room, he lifts the cloth concealing Cherubino. The Count now accuses Susanna of dallying with the boy.

But their argument is interrupted by the arrival of Figaro and a group of peasants, who, at Figaro's instigation, are singing the Count's praises for having abolished the feudal right of the lord of the manor to sleep with his servant's bride. Figaro invites the Count to place the bridal veil on Susanna as a symbol of his blessing on their marriage, which is to take place later that day. The Count is forced to agree, but privately vows to help Marcellina marry Figaro instead. He also gets Cherubino out of the way by drafting him into his regiment. Figaro teases the boy, for he'll have to sacrifice his love-making and enjoy instead the "glories" of war.”

Within this first act, the dancers are used sparingly, and most often to help ease the arrangement of characters. While Figaro returns to the scene with the peasants, the chorus sang it’s praises, while the dancer did a wide array of leaps and poses for the celebration. Katarina was perhaps the most visible, performing tour jete leaps from one side of the stage to another, making a half turn while air-bound to land on the opposing foot. Once Figaro finishes the last song of the act, the stage momentarily clears to prepare for the next portion of the opera.

((Running late? No worries! Please feel free to continue adding your characters to the scene!))
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 2:38 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

“Act II

In her boudoir, the Countess bemoans the Count's infidelity . Susanna has told her about the Count's plans to seduce her. Figaro arrives. He knows that the Count is plotting to help Marcellina. He has his own plan: through Basilio, he will send the Count an anonymous note about the Countess's "lover.". Meanwhile, Susanna is to agree to meet the Count in the garden, only it will be Cherubino, disguised as Susanna, he will be wooing. Figaro goes off to get the boy.

Cherubino arrives and, at Susanna's urging, sings the Countess a love song that he wrote for her. He shows the Countess his regimental commission, which he had just gotten from Basilio. She and Susanna realize that it has no seal on it. Figaro has told Cherubino of the plan, and Susanna begins to dress the uncomfortable boy as a woman. When she goes into another room to get a ribbon, he takes advantage of her absence to declare his love for the Countess. At that moment, the suspicious Count bangs on the door, and Cherubino dives into the closet.

The Count demands to know to whom the Countess was speaking, and she tells him it was Susanna, who has gone into another room. He shows her the anonymous letter that Figaro had written about her "lover." A noise from the closet obliges the Countess to say that Susanna is in there, not in the other room. Susanna re-enters the room, unseen by the Count and Countess, and realizes that there's some kind of problem, so she hides behind a screen. As Cherubino cowers, terrified, in the closet, the Count orders "Susanna" out, but the Countess forbids it. As they argue, they warn each other not to go too far and create a scandal. Susanna remains behind her screen, horrified by the situation. The Countess absolutely refuses to open the closet, so the Count brings her with him to get something to break the closet open, locking the door behind him. Susanna lets Cherubino out of the closet. In a panic, he escapes through the window, and Susanna hides in the closet.

When the Count and Countess return, she finally admits that Cherubino is in the closet, claiming that it was just a joke. He doesn't believe her protestations of innocence and threatens to kill Cherubino. Drawing his sword, he flings open the closet door. They are both astonished to find Susanna. The Count, abashed, is forced to beg his wife's forgiveness. She and Susanna explain that the episode with the closet, and the anonymous note, were all a prank. Figaro arrives to announce that the wedding is about to begin. Questioned by the Count, he denies writing the anonymous note, to the consternation of Susanna and the Countess

Now Antonio the gardener barges in, complaining that someone jumped from the Countess's balcony onto his flower garden. Susanna and the Countess warn Figaro, who had already seen Cherubino jump. He claims that he himself leapt from the balcony. But Antonio claims he saw a boy. The Count immediately realizes that it was Cherubino. Figaro, sticking to his story, claims that Cherubino was on his way to Seville. He explains that he was hiding in the closet waiting for Susanna. After overhearing the Count shouting, he decided to escape by jumping, and injured his foot. He suddenly develops a limp in order to prove his story. But Antonio produces Cherubino's military commission, which he found in the garden. Figaro, confounded, throws the gardener out. Prompted by the women, Figaro triumphantly explains that the page gave it to him because it lacks a seal. Marcellina, Bartolo, and Basilio now come to demand justice, claiming that Figaro entered into a contract to marry Marcellina in exchange for a loan. The Count agrees to judge the case, to the joy of Marcellina and the consternation of Figaro.”

Once again, the dancers and the chorus eased transitions, and added comical humor. When Cherubino sang his song of love to the Countess, Katarina along with two other dancers were off to a corner of a stage, as if they were eavesdropping onto the conversation, and they all swooned. Later, when Cherubino jumped through the window, the same three dancers rose on the hard tops of their slippers, and fluttered after him.

When the act ended, the curtains closed and candles were lit once more. A brief intermission was given to both performers and viewers alike, before the final half of the story would be untold.

((Please feel free to post anything done within the intermission!))
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 4:48 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

They had managed to slip in just as the lights flickered in the lobby to indicate that the attendees claim their seats. Tickets handed over in a rush, Johnny and Sianna along with Marian and Gabby took the steps with a quick pace and dropped into their seats just as the overature started to play. Adrenaline seemed to come off of them in waves -- the excitement of seeing Katarina's name in print not to mention the thrill of watching her dance, the throng of the orchestra, and the minor snafus had all contributed mightily. Perhaps if they had intended to be fashionably late it would not have been so bad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day had been an easy one at the Silver Lark as few patrons were ambling into the shop for much beyond trinkets or gifts for friends and family in the company and all music lessons had been canceled to encourage attendance. When the sign was finally flipped, Johnny's grin urged Sianna upstairs. "I'll give ya a head star', m'own. So's not ta have ta wait on ya when th' carriage gets here." A cheeky smirk preceded her laughter. "For that, ye wily rogue, I'll use up all th' hot water and giggle when ye let out a skelloch at how cold your bath is."

For the next several hours they seemed to cross and weave in and around the other as they got ready. While they said not a word, looks and glances expressed everything from approval in the others appearance to frustration as little things unraveled. Only one clean black sock could be located. An exhaustive search was fruitless until Sianna pulled out a slip from a dresser drawer and found it folded within. Long curls were stubborn and the hairbrush snarled them . It took an extra dousing of the rose water to smooth and shine them into cascading tresses that were tied loosely at the nape of her neck.

"If I dinna ken better, I'd think th' brownie sprites have been amok th' house while I was awa'." Murmured quietly as Johnny's nimble fingers guided the zipper of her gown. A little overlay went a long way, transforming the floor-length ivory gown into an edgier look courtesy of the lace and satin stripes on black mesh placed over it. The surplice neckline was trimmed with sawtooth lace which accentuated her smooth luminous skin in comparison to the lace's jagged edges.

Inspecting him in his tux, the formal cut of the suit accentuating his broad shoulders, she brushed an invisible mar from the material. Smiling softly, she tugged at the formal bow tie. "Ye look grand, leannan... but I dinna think ye look verra comfortable wi' this thing cutting ye at th' next, aye?" A kiss to his chin as she pulled it free. "Besides, I like ye better wi' out it." The look she gave him spoke volumes and she bounced on her tiptoes as his gaze darkened ever so slightly. A step to the jewelry box atop the vanity soon produced a long strand of pearls that she wrapped about her wrist several times before clasping it with a thin black velvet ribbon and pearl drop earrings.

Halfway down the steps, she remembered her wrap and bag and turned around to get them. Out the door and chiding the coachman of the hired carriage on the benefits of being on time, he remembered the tickets and took the stairs three at a time to retrieve them. Feeling all unsettled, yet finally confident they had everything, all that remained was for them to head to the Smith home off the Marketplace and pick up mother and sister.
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Atalanta
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 6:36 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

“They’re amazing!” she whispered excitedly to her date for the evening, green eyes all aglitter and still spinning from the leaps and songs that had just occurred. Her smile spilled over to him, fingers curling around his forearm. “Ta’. For bringing me.”

This being her first opera—and really, her first professionally crafted theatrical production—intermission snuck up on her. As the people around them began to get up from their seats, she looked perplexed. Where were they going? Why were the lights on again? The program she’d been studying so faithfully (and quickly, so as not to miss the performances) was consulted again. “Ahhhh…” she exhaled, nodding as she understood now. It was a break! “Will you excuse me while I freshen up?” was her question for Locke, paired with a lift of her brow, as she tried to tip her nose up regally in her attempts to fit the part of a lady. Before he was able to get a response in, however, 'Lanta had already stood and was smoothing out the chocolate, satin dress she’d scrounged up last minute. She was particularly proud of it, having spent a little more of her measly savings than her normal weekly allowance to buy it and some simple jewelry to go with; she’d even sprung to get her hair done! It was all worth it, though. Atalanta looked and felt like she fit in with the elegant audience, this time. Her bigger satisfaction was managing to appear put-together next to the dashing blue elf. She forgot her unease in her high heels, for the time being, able to pull of a graceful step into a small crowd exiting, confidently prancing away with them to find a washroom.

A trio of women broke off from the gathering she’d joined, leading her to the door she was seeking. After entering behind them, she went and stood by a mirror, dabbing on a bit of lip color as she observed the handful of others swirling about. She smiled as they moved around her, admiring them in between checking the bit of make-up she'd worn, which, coincidentally, was the same amount she trusted herself to put on correctly. The trip was not just useful for people-watching, though. One female, able to actually understand the dialogue, was translating lines she found amusing and important to her non-fluent friend. The woman also put some of the love song into terms 'Lanta could better comprehend; though, the performer had done a splendid job capturing the mood well enough to be understood in spite of the language barrier. Ecstatic for this bit of insight, Atalanta listened in and learned, frowning once the pair was out of earshot.

The frown lingered a moment longer as she wondered: would she be able to find her seat, again?
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 12:24 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Once reaching the opera house, Izira was pleasantly pleased to find that the ticket she held was nor merely for any seat in the house but for a private balcony box. That being the case, however, it left the seat beside her empty as she had no date with her this evening not a ticket she could have provided for one. This fact did nothing to dissuade her enjoyment as the lights went low and the opera played out below. Leaning forward with hands upon the balcony’s railing, her facial expressions changing with the mood of the opera. At times her light laughter sounded with others of the audience, other times frowning along with the consternation of the main protagonist, Figaro. When the lights came back on for the intermission, Izira found herself slightly saddened at the pause. Even so, she rose from her seat to stretch her legs and perhaps have a drink downstairs with the others at there that night—still eager to return to her seat for the rest of the show.

Last edited by Izira Nyte on Mon Jun 09, 2008 3:28 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 3:52 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

To say that the Marriage of Figaro was not what Eva expected was an understatement. She knew it wouldn't be in English, but goodness it was all rather complicated. Halfway through the first act she had given up trying to follow the story in her program by the dim stage light, and just sat back to watch the music and the dancing.

That's not to say she wasn't enjoying herself. Once she stopped trying to figure out what was happening, she found she could take it in much more fully. There was a spirit and energy to the show that Eva couldn't help but admire. In some ways the performance felt more alive and vibrant than real life.

After the lights came up for intermission, Eva rose with her small handbag and moved into the aisle to let out the elderly couple that was sitting beside her. From her position towards the back of the theater, she could see a lot of familiar faces from the Inn, some she knew and some she didn't. She nodded over to Locke, catching him alone, having missed Atalanta's move to the powder room, and a moment later raised her hand to wave over to Gav and Des.

The sudden movement of people, up and down the aisle, in and out of her row, made Eva a little self-conscious. She reached a hand to the back of her backless dress to make sure it hadn't slipped down too low, and smoothed it out to make sure it was falling properly. Then her hand drifted up towards her neck. She was wearing the locket Tucker had given her for Christmas. It didn't really go with the dress, but she had wanted to wear it anyhow. Now she felt a little foolish.

"Why that's lovely, dear." The old lady who had been sitting next to her was paused beside her before re-entering the row, and was looking up at the white gold locket between Eva's fingers.

Eva released the locket and blushed. "Thank you."

"I used to have one just like it, but it got lost some time ago. My husband's been promising to buy me a new one." With that the old lady shot a dirty look towards her husband who was waiting rather impatiently behind her to return to his seat.

"Darling, you're causing a jam-up. Leave the poor girl alone and go to your seat."

"Oh no, that's alright - " Eva smiled.

"Oh, shut it, Gerry." The woman rolled her eyes, and then sent an apologetic look to Eva before moving past her to take her seat.

Once the husband had seated himself as well, Eva sat back down in her own seat and leaned over, her voice low to the old lady as she confided. "I didn't think the locket really went with the dress."

The old woman patted Eva's hand gently. "Something meaningful is beautiful with any outfit."
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 4:54 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Count Talomar Longden sat in the dark recesses of a private box overlooking the stage. He was dressed impeccably in a black tuxedo; a “walking stick” with a silver handle was propped up along side his chair. Before the opera had begun he had perused the program and then took note of who was seated and where. He had expected to see some who were in attendance; however, others who were seated in the audience left him with no little surprise. He was most pleased that culture was actually coming to the city, and would therefore support the Opera House in every way possible. Perhaps there was hope for the city after all.

He looked for Governor Matthew Simon and did not see him. He frowned and made a mental note. He would have to have a little talk with the fellow.

There was someone sitting next to Count Longden. Those with better eyes might make out that it was a female companion, but the shadows of the private box would hide her identity – for now.

When the second act was over and intermission had just begun, Count Longden rose and applauded, having thus far enjoyed the opera tremendously and experiencing no problem whatsoever with the language in which it was written and performed. A moment later that private box was empty. One might wonder if he and his companion would be seen in the lobby during intermission.
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 4:57 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Wes had passed by Piper's workshop to drop off the ballet tickets as Peredhil had requested. When no one answered his knock, he was on the verge of pushing both tickets beneath the door when he caught sight of a trio of beautiful ladies dressed in strapless evening gowns, chatting excitedly about tonight's performance as they scurried down the street.

A smile blossomed as he rapidly slipped one of the tickets into his pocket. If Peredhil was going to use him as a lackey, the very least he could do was enjoy himself. The ballet itself did not interest him much, although personal experience had taught him that female dancers tended to be pretty and fit. That did interest him.

Ticket in hand, the only obstacle was suitable clothing. As he rode through town, the streets were mostly deserted. The clock on the watchtower signaled that the show was set to begin any minute and there was nary a soul who could provide him with directions nor a store that remained open.

He was beginning to think that this was a hopeless pursuit when a small store attracted his attention, lamplight flooding out through the open door. Drawn like a moth to flame, Wes dismounted and strode through the door. A slight, elderly man peered at him through thick glasses when he entered.

"Good evening, sir," Wes began, twirling his cloak in the grandiose manner that was his fashion. "Might you have any tuxedos left that will impress the ladies of this fine town?"

"All sold out," the man responded in a clipped tone. "Big show tonight."

"What a shame," Wes responded, not believing the man for a second. So the shopkeeper wanted to play hardball? "I was prepared to pay a good sum of money to rent a tuxedo for the night."

The shopkeeper's eyes narrowed as he studied Wes, then he said, "Do have one left." As he disappeared into the back, Wes chuckled. The power of money was truly incredible.

His smugness was short-lived, however, when he saw the tuxedo the man had returned with. "Not for rent," the man said. "Only for sale."

Wes blanched, his face going pale. Not only was the lime green suit one of the most hideous things he had ever seen, but it was probably four sizes too small. Wes was already shaking his head when he remembered the ladies he had seen before. There would be lots of classy females at the performance, and artsy events like this one seemed to bring out the romantic in everyone. There might even be an after-party. Maybe the suit would give him the look of a bohemian, a bit eccentric but intriguing all the same.

Swallowing his pride, he paid the shopkeeper and asked for a dressing room. Hurriedly changing, he stepped out and studiously ignored the grin that formed on the shopkeeper's face. With buttons nearly bursting and pants stretched to the limit, he waddled towards the theater hall, his stallion in tow.

"You look good, Wes," he told himself through gritted teeth. "You always look good."

The attendant received his ticket with an amused smirk and showed him to his seat. As he lowered himself slowly into the chair, the sound of his jacket ripping was the first indication that this might be a big mistake. At least it hadn't been his pants.
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 9:48 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Locke nodded to 'Lanta as she stood and went to freshen up. He watched her until she was out of sight, before he finally got out of his seat as well. Ticket in hand, he memorized his seat number before heading down the row of seats, into the aisle, and out of the auditorium, giving a brief nod to Eva as he left. He spent little time in the lobby, paying no mind to the ladies and gentlemen talking amongst themselves, heading immediately towards the front doors and outside. The weather was slightly warmer than it had been earlier, but it was still cooler out here than with all the warm bodies inside the theater. He stepped out onto the sidewalk a little bit, so that he could read the marquee for the night's performance, before he started admiring the posters encased behind plastic for future shows hanging on either side of the entrance.

Seliandre had made idle chitchat with the others in the balcony as people waited to file out and down the steps for refreshment or simply to stretch their legs, and the wizard managed to charm his way ahead of them all by complaining that he was feeling rather flushed. As he descended the staircase, he caught the glimpse of a certain blue-skinned elf, and he thrust his hand above his head, about to wave. Of course, it hung lamely in the air as Locke all but rushed out the door. He clucked his tongue and shook his head with a wry smile before making his way into the lobby. His very blue eyes lingered a moment on the gaggle of ladies draped in finery, and he paused in indecision. He sighed. There was no shortage of beautiful women in Rhy'Din, and it would probably be easier to mingle at the after party. Men who looked his way were met with a grin and a dip of his head. Women were graced with his most charming smile and the occasional wink. But he slipped out of the lobby, white dress shoes clicking against the sidewalk as he took in the night.

There weren't too many other patrons of the theater standing on the sidewalk at the time. Even with the improvement in the weather, it was still a touch too chilly for the ladies to be outside for any significant period of time. And most of the gentlemen, of course, much rather preferred the company of those ladies to fresh air. Locke, of course, didn't care. He adjusted the sleeves of his black tuxedo coat, then leaned forward a touch, looking for his reflection in the clear material covering the playbills. He leaned back and turned his head slowly as he heard the clicking of shoes outside, smiling as he spotted Seliandre. "Evening, mate. Enjoying the performance thus far?"

He straightened a touch as he was spotted, running his hand up through his hair. It was a practiced gesture, allowing one of his bejeweled cuff links to catch the light. "Bit warmer than you would like, I imagine?" Seliandre made a show of smoothing wrinkles from his white jacket, which was left unbuttoned, and tugged the cuffs of his shirt forward a touch. The adjustments didn't really change much in way of his appearance. "The performance? A bit strange. I can't ever recall seeing trampolines in an opera or a ballet, but it certainly is interesting." He grinned at that. He wasn't criticizing the show. Far from it. The oddities lent it an unusual allure that he seemed to appreciate. "And yourself?"

Locke nodded, stepping away from the wall and closer to the entrance and Seliandre. The ice elf tugged at the black lambskin leather dress gloves on each hand, then decided to take them off. He held the pair in his left hand, leaning against the wall with his right hand behind his back, obscuring it from view. "I haven't a baldy what they're saying, to be perfectly honest. But as far as the visuals go? I daresay, very little beats them. Though the costumes are somewhat...peculiar."

He smirked at that, wandering a step or two out into the night. "I believe they are supposed to be period costumes. However." He paused, perhaps for dramatic effect. "I would hazard that they've been adapted for visual interest, wouldn't you think? Still..." He grinned broadly with a glance over his shoulder toward the theater. "It has been rather enjoyable to watch." He preened a touch more, subtle gestures that might be missed by those who weren't looking for them. He smoothed his hair, straightened his tie a little, and did a cursory check to make sure he hadn't managed to get any grime on him. It was like Seliandre was expecting one of those pretty ballerinas to come out and spot him, and he was ensuring he would look his best for such an encounter. He made a brief motion toward Locke. "Speaking of costumes," he added with a good-natured laugh at the jest, "I rather like your suit."


Last edited by Seliandre Valdalerion on Fri Mar 14, 2008 9:52 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 9:49 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

He would've ran a hand through his own head of hair (artfully tousled and razor cut into mussy, stylish ice-white layers), but his hands were tied, so to speak, holding his gloves and leaning against the wall, respectively. He did reach up with his left hand to touch the collar of his white tuxedo shirt, then the top of his crimson tie, smiling at Seliandre. "Thank you most kindly for the compliment, mate. One could say the same for you. I thought of wearing something a little more vibrant, but, well-" And Locke leaned a little closer to the other elf, stage whispering in elvish. "Re mela mor. 1" He laughed, though it was closer to a giggle, as he leaned back and continued. "So I had to go with this. But as I was saying, or as I meant to say, you look rather fit and fetching, if I may say so."

"Re?" His brows shot up in carefully moderated surprise, such that he almost missed the compliment, and that was saying something. "Lle caela... arwen? Lle lakwenien?" He chuckled, trying not to sound too shocked. "Uma re sinta tanya lle quen a' nír ve' tanya? 2" For the moment, Seliandre ignored the comments on his attire. This bit of information Locke had provided was shaping up to be much more interesting.

He seemed a little...annoyed at Seliandre's reaction, though it was more in the expression on his face than in the tone of his voice. It was hard to sound irritated when speaking in elvish; the language sounded like a songbird in spring. He straightened up out of his lean against the wall, quickly putting his gloves back on again. "Uma. Re sinta. Quenad ve' tanya naa' il karnelad. Savvy?" He paused, grinning a bit. "Lye yuuyo quen ve' tanya a' gwaith. Ta crona uuner. 3"

Seliandre paused for a minute to process that, oblivious to Locke's annoyance. After a moment or two of looking perfectly pensive, he broke into a rather conspiring grin. "Uma re maa quel? Amin n'dela ele lle termáred yassen ni ya n'naa vanima. 4" He laughed at that, a mischievous glint in his eye.

At Seliandre's words, Locke put his hands over his heart, head tilted up, eyes lifted skyward and white lashes fluttering. "Re maa quel." And then he looked down at Seliandre, a more serious look flashing across his face, especially in his cobalt irises. "Nan' eller naa ner. Cormre naa tanya tel'raa." In that moment, the ice elf looked at once earnest and vulnerable, a rarity even for him, as emotionally open as he usually was. The look didn't quite fade out of his eyes, even as he smirked and sent a playful elbow jabbing toward's Seliandre's ribs. "Nan' uma. Vanimre sila tiri. 5"

He took the jab in stride, making sure his coat hadn't been mussed by Locke's elbow. "Tira ten' rashwe yassen lanne," he chided almost absently, though nothing was really behind those words. Rather, he pressed on with an impish, "Lle caelava cael amin govannon he. San', amin sintava n'nai he oa tuulo' lle. 6" Following the other's lead, Seliandre sent a light elbow Locke's way, though his grin seemed to suggest that he really thought he was perfectly capable of what he jested about.

The elbow bounced harmlessly off of his black coat, and he giggled childishly at first. Locke's words back were teasing, playful, but his smile was a touch tight-lipped. Why it was like that, he wouldn't say. "Quel marth, mellonamin. Amin n'dele ten' lle." He wagged a finger at him. "RhyDin caela nir' edainmerim. Amin onuva sen a' lle. 7" He flashed a wolfish, knowing grin at that thought.

"Onu sen a' amin?" he near-repeated, his tone a touch incredulous. "Amin n'anta onalle." Seliandre gave his hair a self-conscious toss, and he smiled a far-too-sly grin in Locke's direction. "Amin anta úqua enga amin. Nir? Ron mela amin." He laughed even as he twisted on his heel back toward the theater. "Hama saesa yassen i tyále." Melodramatically, perhaps in open imitation of Locke's rather animated behavior, he clutched his hands over his heart. "Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'. 8" He tossed a grin over his shoulder before strolling back into the theater, composure quickly regained as he offered polite greetings and flashing rather winsome smiles to those he passed.

Locke lingered a moment or two longer than Seliandre in the cool outdoor air. By the time he re-entered the lobby, the other elf was long gone, and nobody else of interest was in his line of sight. Sighing a touch at that, he made his way forward to the auditorium, pushing open the doors and heading back for his seat. He found it right away, but decided to stay standing first. He wanted to wait and make sure that 'Lanta found her way back, and what better guidepost than a blue-skinned elf in a fine tuxedo?

1. She likes black.
2. She? You have... a lady? Are you joking? Does she know you that you talk to women like that?
3. Yes. She knows. Talking like that is not making love. Savvy? We both talk like that to people. It harms nobody.
4. Does she look good? I don't see you staying with a woman who isn't beautiful.
5. She looks good. But there is more. Her heart is that of the lion. But yes. Her beauty shines bright.
6. Be careful with the cloth. You will have to have me meet her. Then, I will know not to charm her away from you.
7. Good luck, friend. I am not worried about you. RhyDin has lots of women. I'll give them to you.
8. Give them to me? I need not your gift. I need nothing except myself. Women? They love me. Have pleasure with the play. My heart shall weep until it sees thee again.


(Edited and adapted from live RP.)
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PostPosted: Sat Mar 15, 2008 1:14 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

From the beginning of the opera, Storm was completely engrossed. One hand entwined with her husband’s, the other loosely holding the program. The theatre was packed to the rim and she could hardly move without disrupting someone. She took advantage of Ewan being next to her, knowing that he would not be disturbed by the brushes of her legs or her shoulder. Distracted maybe, but not disturbed.

She was more so pleased to hear the language and understand it. She considered leaning over and whispering into his ear to tell him what they were saying, but she was sure that he would not care for that, and within the first minutes she had forgotten the idea all together. The story was unfamiliar to her, so each surprise and each song produced the proper reaction from her. The first act passed by, and she was so caught up in watching that she did not pay attention to acts or scenes.

When the second act finished and the lights returned, Storm was surprised; already? She tugged on her husband’s hand for them to stand with all the others. She quickly glanced around, spotting several familiar faces. While she wanted to say her greetings to those that came in after she, her stomach was on the verge of rumbling. Her eating habits were changing, eating several smaller meals throughout the day.

“Beloved,” she leaned forward and up to whisper in her husband’s ear, “I fear I need to find something to eat before my stomach adds harmonies.”

At his gentle laughter, he guided them to the lobby to silence her rumbling tummy before the second half would begin.

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PostPosted: Sat Mar 15, 2008 2:32 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Des’ eyes were sparkling as the lights came back up. She didn’t understand the language but the troupe’s performance was so vividly portrayed that along with Gavilean’s whispered explanations she perfectly understood what she was watching.

Many was the time she had to raise a hand to her mouth to keep from bursting out in laughter. Miss Partinger’s training was doing her no good at all when there was so much comedic activity occurring on the stage.

She gave a squeeze to Gav’s hand and glanced over to him inquisitively. “I notice several people here that we know. Shall we go and get some refreshments and maybe say some ‘hellos’ if time allows?”
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PostPosted: Sat Mar 15, 2008 10:54 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Sera was hoping against all hope as she waited outside that someone she knew would show up. But as people began to filter into the building she found herself painfully alone. Normally she would retreat. To be among such a crowd and all alone was a frightening thought to the wee elveness. But swallowing her fear she made to a line and eventually entered the building.

The several dozen of roses was given to one of the stage hands, a gentle request for them to be given to Rini. With a meek smile she ventured off to her seat which she took with silence. Fiddling with the ribbon about her waist she waited for the performance to begin

And what a performance it was.

Violet tainted blue eyes darted back and forth as she drank in the scenes laid out before the crowd. And even with the pamphlet offered poor Sera didn't know a word they were saying. That didn't stop her from enjoying though. She did find the language quite beautiful though so that did add much to her enjoyment. And boy was she all smiles seeing Rini preform. She was jealous of such a talent! And Rini definitely touched her talent like a artist painting the ideal sunrise. Simply beautiful.

The between intermission had people coming and going but she stayed planted to her seat almost as if she were worried someone would thief her seat! Her seat! roar! She did remind herself to thank Rini for telling her about the opera though. It was her first and it was a whole world of new experiences. She liked it. But she liked even more to be able to support her friend.

The 'blue-eyed' one, as Johnny called her, looked over the crowd in still fruitless attempt to find a familiar face. Not like she really knew many past Johnny and his family to start. Oh. Oh. OH wait! She thought she spied the familiar face of Miss Sianna and Mister Johnny. That in itself was a comfort so when things began rolling again her attention went back to the stage, hands clasped in her lap to enjoy the remainder of what was going to be a long lived memory.
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