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Post by Captain von Trapp on May 19, 2008 9:18:13 GMT -5
*Captain von Trapp had reserved an entire private box for himself, disliking the more social aspects of opera attendance and instead preferring the glorious fusion of fine music and drama which he had paid to experience.*
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Post by Vienna Mozart on Jun 9, 2008 15:07:18 GMT -5
Vienna's heels clicked on the marble floors as she strode at a very brisk pace along the hall leading to the boxes. She was eager to see how her costumes looked under the full lighting during an actual performance and had been thrilled to spy an empty box that would more than suit her needs. Upon tossing open the curtains, however, she found that the box was not empty.
"Oh, my apologies..." she mumbled, beginning to back out.
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Post by Captain von Trapp on Jun 15, 2008 13:47:45 GMT -5
"Mmm," *he said with distracted irritation, waving her away with a flick of his hand as he turned his attention back to the opera.*
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Post by Jay Gatsby on Jun 16, 2008 14:23:59 GMT -5
Jay sat in his box wholly bored by the whole thing, but he had promised Sunflower that he would get his- Tired bottom out of da 'ouse! he giggled as he tried to replay her accent in his head.
It began to entertain him, far more than the blasted opera ever could.
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Post by Anne on Jul 30, 2008 17:20:51 GMT -5
***NEW NIGHT***
*When some friends of Anne's, the Masons, found themselves with an extra ticket to the opera, Anne of course leaped at the chance to go. And so she found herself glorying in the drama, spectacle, and lush melodies of Eugene Onegin. ((Leeet's do the tiiime waaarp agaaaain!))
Mrs. Mason's eyesight was failing her, and Anne kindly described in a whisper the thrilling goings-on upon the stage, and doddery old Mr. Mason had falling asleep in his seat, snoring softly.*
"You relate everything so beautifully, my dear. Are you an elocutionist?" *said Mrs. Mason.*
"Thank you, Mrs. Mason, but beyond school recitations, I have done nothing public," *laughed Anne quietly.*
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Jul 30, 2008 17:49:01 GMT -5
It was as if he had an unerring sense for her, as if part of him was attuned to her presence like a hound on the scent of a fox. He grimaced at the miserable comparison.
And was completely unable to watch the opera. He stared at her across the empty space between their boxes, his eyes dark and unfathomable. The sight of her pained him, but the only anger he felt was at his own behavior.
It wasn't that he'd said anything untrue. But it had been ungentlemanly, and had no place in the conversation he'd been trying to have. And he'd lost her forever... But there was still a way to help her, at least. Even if she could not thank him for it--for he knew she would not accept "charity" from him. Winning her was, he was certain, out of the question. From afar, perhaps, he could still make a difference.
He turned to the man next to him and hastily explained that he had to leave unexpectedly, but that he had been charged with introducing another of their companions to a Miss Anne Shirley, a promising young novelist. He pointed her out--without pointing, of course--and begged the man's silence as to who was behind the introduction.
"A little irregular, isn't it, Darcy?" Farnsworth had asked, but he agreed that during the next intermission, he would make certain that M. D---------, a publisher with considerable familiarity with the ladies' market, met the girl in question.
"You'll forgive me," Darcy said. "Thank you."
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Post by Anne on Jul 30, 2008 17:54:38 GMT -5
((Farnsworth? A shout-out to Matthew, is it? Nice.))
*At intermission, Anne went with Mrs. Mason to take a turn through the halls, after sitting so long it did them good to move about. Mr. Mason was sleeping solidly, and Madame had not the heart to wake her husband, confiding in Anne that his gout often troubled him during the night, robbing him of much rest.*
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Post by Astrid Peth on Jul 30, 2008 17:58:45 GMT -5
((Guh, I love that opera. *Flail*))
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Jul 30, 2008 18:17:28 GMT -5
**NOT DARCY**
"Miss Shirley?" A good-humored man appeared at her elbow, fashionably dressed and impeccably mannered. "I apologize for the intrusion. I'm John Farnsworth, a... friend of the family." Let that mean whatever it might, and damn Darcy's silly whims! "And I've been charged with introducing you to M. D---------."
He gestured to take in an older man, less well-dressed or perhaps merely more rumpled, who adjusted his spectacles. He was a businessman, true, but he had only gotten into this business through a love of books.
"Miss Shirley. I hear you are a writer..."
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Post by Anne on Jul 31, 2008 9:15:19 GMT -5
*Anne beamed, but her voice was a little tremulous at this unexpected turn.*
"Y-yes...that is...well, I teach, but I also write--I write. Yes, I am a writer, Monsieur," *she said, trying to gather her scattered thoughts.* "Nothing published, I'm afraid."
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Jul 31, 2008 21:07:25 GMT -5
The old man smiled kindly. It was a favor he was doing, certainly, but the Darcys had been good friends to him. And one never knew what flighty young things had hidden beneath their bonnets.
"Yet," he said. "But you hope to, do you not? Have you sent anything out?"
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Post by Anne on Aug 1, 2008 3:15:18 GMT -5
"J-just to magazines, Sir, and...well, they weren't interested."
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Aug 1, 2008 22:00:04 GMT -5
"Perhaps your stories aren't magazine material. How would you feel about letting me take a look sometime?"
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Post by Anne on Aug 16, 2008 17:08:36 GMT -5
*She had to quickly stoop to retrieve the opera glasses she'd let fall with a thud.*
"That--that would be marvelous...oh, I--I don't know what to say...except...thank you. Thank you very much."
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Post by Mr. Darcy on Aug 25, 2008 14:13:00 GMT -5
Mr. Delacroix waved a hand.
"No thanks is necessary; this is not a promise, Mademoiselle Shirley. But I shall look forward to reading what you send me."
He offered her a hard.
"If you send your best manuscript here, I will be most appreciative."
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