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Post by Carlos Castro on Nov 22, 2008 2:14:40 GMT -5
**NEW DAY, POST-BALL**
He was just the tiniest bit late. But he excused himself on the grounds that if he hadn't taken care in shaving and tying his cravat, Maleo Addams would know he'd been disturbed by last night. And that was far worse than making people wait a few minutes. It was several minutes less than he'd made others wait, in the past.
Carlos swept into rehearsal with an imperious glance at all present, as if daring them to comment upon his partner the night before.
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Nov 24, 2008 0:14:47 GMT -5
Maleo entered after Carlos, actually, looking a bit exhausted as if he had yet to fall asleep. However, he was still energetic enough to come in crooning a bit of the aria Carmen to himself.
"Buenos dias, Senor Castro. Maestro," he said, nodding to the man at their rehearsal piano, not meaning Destler, though he would not be surprised if the flayed man was lurking about somewhere.
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Post by Carlos Castro on Nov 24, 2008 10:11:13 GMT -5
"Señor," Carlos acknowledged gruffly, but said nothing more. He felt oddly subdued; he did not shirk in his work, but the past 24 hours had brought many revelations and changes and the experience had toned him down somewhat--at least temporarily. It seemed that it was primarily in times of comfort and professional threat that Carlos allowed himself to be imperious and demanding; when faced with actual, personal troubles, he could suffer a little more quietly. Not that suffering was the correct word, exactly. There was good and bad in his thoughts, and right now the rehearsal was a good focus away from both.
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Post by Erik on Nov 24, 2008 10:34:02 GMT -5
Meanwhile, Erik had arrived in Box Five and knew, with a sense that had been honed by years of not wanting to be bothered, that someone had disturbed it.
The knocked over chair was a clue. As was the ripped sash, and an odd...
"Good God," Erik said to himself, his voice hollow with abject horror. "Has this Opera no sense of decency?"
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Post by Mortimer on Nov 24, 2008 14:13:19 GMT -5
((sporffle!))
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Post by Erik on Nov 24, 2008 14:28:25 GMT -5
((Was wondering when you'd find that.))
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Nov 25, 2008 0:51:47 GMT -5
((*DIES*))
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Post by Alex on Nov 25, 2008 10:50:02 GMT -5
Alex flung open the doors and ushered Ganymede in. "Sit anywhere you like," she said. "And if you're forced by your ears to leave, you can always find me here again."
As she trotted up to the stage, El Castro turned his imperious gaze on her. "So glad you could join us, Mademoiselle Alex," he sniffed, as if on cue. And Alex turned and winked boldly at Ganymede before mounting the stage.
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Post by Rosalind on Nov 25, 2008 11:11:40 GMT -5
Rosalind didn't want to sit so far away that it seemed impolite, but did not want to attract attention to herself by sitting too far off. She cautiously took a seat near the aisle in what was about the fourth row and sat down, lazily but comfortable in the seat. She was not certain she could afford the Opera, as judging by what it looked like it was a costly venture, but she could get the money somehow, she was certain; it was one of the benefits of letting the rest of your life be a little unstable. Rosalind could handle being momentarily homeless and the like as long as she had the sense that it was temporary. And she usually did.
Her casual behavior altered slightly as she heard one of the other performers greet her, and Rosalind froze. And Alex winked. Rosalind was not very comfortable at all this, and felt her heart speed up. Now, she could convince herself that this was a joke on a fellow male, particularly being as Alex, were he a boy, was doubtless cast in girl's roles at times, being a particularly pretty one. But Rosalind was not altogether that good at lying to herself, and failed this time. She managed a smile, but her hand moved to her mouth in thought, and she leaned back in the seat, feeling conflicted.
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Post by Alex on Nov 25, 2008 11:50:03 GMT -5
Alex, who thought the whole thing quite good fun, could not have predicted Ganymede's reaction--nor was she aware of it now. To her eyes, it would seem like a surprise but what a delightful one, sure to amuse the fellow especially after the gaff Ganymede had made and the quick attempt to pave over it. Alex thought it might put him more at ease in her company; she didn't put herself in others' shoes very well.
The rehearsal continued, with Alex indeed playing a male role that had been written for a woman. She had never known if the opera company had bought into her disguise or just not cared; it was not from them, but from proper society that she had hid. El Castro (despite his initial outburst) was oddly subdued, and everyone seemed on their best behavior, and Alex kept sneaking glances at Ganymede to see how he fared.
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Post by Rosalind on Nov 25, 2008 15:05:34 GMT -5
Rosalind stayed in her seat and fidgeted at first, wondering if she could leave. Alex had granted her full permission to do so, and she did not know the lad - lass? - all that well, but she felt it would be a cruel and cowardly thing to do, and she had been fully enjoying Alex's company before the knowledge was out. But certainly she could no longer hide behind her moniker anymore, and there was a certain fearfulness involved on her part with the idea of confronting her own behavior. She did not especially want to think about how it was she felt around Alex. It was always easier to blame confusion on Ganymede, but to be Rosalind both in her own eyes and someone else's? It would be taking out the nonexistent man she held between herself and others, and she was not entirely sure she could handle it. It was not an entirely selfish motive, either: she was not sure her ensuing behavior would not alienate Alex, which she didn't want to do. She remained sitting, conflicted, and glancing around, feeling doubly overwhelmed.
As the opera went on, however, she found herself more involved in the story going on up there, even with Alex glancing at her occasionally and reminding her of what she was really doing. There was something charming in watching Mademoiselle Alex play the boy on stage in this regard, and it helped ease Rosalind into the idea. She began to grow impatiently excited at the prospect of speaking to Alex without pretending and second-guessing, although after that she would grow immediately fearful and cautious. But it was true, nonetheless, that Alex probably was a lot more open, and Rosalind had felt slightly lonely being two people at once. It was more solitude being alone as Rosalind, but she had been prevented from forming the close friendships that she lived for. And since inventing Ganymede - and discovering new and sometimes unsettling feelings inside of herself - she had desperately wanted to check her experiences up against someone else's, to prove that she was not abnormal or freakish in any sense.
She did not know how long it was until the rehearsal was over, but unconsciously, she had already made up her mind what she wanted to say to Alex when Alex was finished.
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Post by Alex on Nov 25, 2008 15:33:03 GMT -5
It was gratifying to see that Ganymede was still there when rehearsal broke for the day, and Alex bounded down off the stage without seeing (or caring about) a few looks passed between other cast members at the odd sight of the two trousered... people... together. The looks were not overt, though, and more curious than judgmental.
She came to rest at the seat in front of Ganymede's, kneeling on it to face her and setting her arms on the back.
"You stayed," she observed. "I suppose that means it wasn't awful."
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Post by Rosalind on Nov 25, 2008 15:41:17 GMT -5
Rosalind perked up, not standing, but sitting up straighter and leaning forward, excitedly. She had enjoyed the opera, what she had seen of their rehearsal, but sitting still for long periods of time was not well-suited to her. She was patient, and could wait, and had been trained from girlhood to be able to rest for a long time, but this did not mean she did not have a strong yearning now for fresh air and something that would send her heart racing.
"Alex," she began, almost bobbing in the seat, as she tried to piece together her thoughts and decide on what would be the best timing to make a confession. She wanted to do it quickly, because she wanted to share her experiences with the matter and hear Alex's own, but she knew that it was quite a lot of information disclosure and knew that if Alex was anything like her - and she might well be - she would not feel entirely comfortable with that. "I - what can I say?" She touched Alex's hands, pulled back hesitantly, placed her hands on the back of the seat near Alex's own, but not touching them. She smiled brightly. "I was charmed. Alex?" Another pause, and she felt somewhat breathless. She blushed in realization and dropped her eyes. It was a strange sensation to be aware of doing this. She had wooed women in Arden rather deliberately, but then it had been because, well, she was a man, and that was what men were supposed to do. The abnormality of feeling the same way when she was well-aware that she was not a man was one of the few dark clouds that weighed on Rosalind's mind, for normally she was cheery and did not doubt herself. "I have something I would like to tell you, doubtless obvious, but in which the confession is as important to me as your knowing."
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Post by Alex on Nov 25, 2008 17:17:51 GMT -5
It was about this time that Alex began to realize that this might be the sort of situation she was supposed to avoid, now she was with Lizzie. This was brought home to her not necessarily through Ganymede's blushing but by her own charmed reaction to it, her natural response to the sort of attention now coming her way. But she wasn't sure what other way to react, and so she smiled openly and placed her hand over the one that rested next to it.
"Then I should like to hear it," she said encouragingly. "Though perhaps you would prefer it to be someplace less public."
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Post by Julian on Nov 26, 2008 8:16:17 GMT -5
((Now I feel bad that Lizzie hasn't been around to keep Alex in check. Not that it would do much good, I suppose. )) *Julian had performed... politely. This pleasing Destler was complicated and took a great toll on him. It was hard to do something so counter to his nature. But the man best adjust. There would be no mercy on opening night. Other than that, he kept to himself, appearing and vanishing with a mysterious aloofness.*
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