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Post by The Persian on Nov 26, 2008 11:07:33 GMT -5
In his explorations of the city, the former daroga had seen many things. Some of which he liked, some of which he didn't, but all of which he was curious about. Perhaps it was the old investigative spirit (even if the position had not exactly been a choice) coming back to life. He liked Paris well enough. He liked the language, and the people here were less provincial than other places he'd been. He walked everywhere, with no real design other than to observe and learn.
He kept coming back to the Opera. And one day, he went in. The marble halls were ostentatious, the endless statues and paintings overwhelming, but there was music coming from the auditorium and he slipped in to watch and listen. A rehearsal, it seemed, was in progress, filled with voice he could discern were very fine even if the style of singing was unfamiliar to him and somewhat off-putting. He stayed, however, almost part of the shadows in the back, entirely still but for the jade green eyes that slid from face to face, taking it all in.
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Post by Julian on Nov 26, 2008 11:20:17 GMT -5
*Julian had just stepped back, his role finished for some time. Settling at the edge of the rehearsal, his eyes were drawn to a movement in the back of the theater. It was brief, but once still again, there was the shape of a man. Julian studied him (for what else had he to do). He was new and by the guess of things, not local. But there was something about him, even though the details were obfuscated, that seemed familiar. It pulled at Julian and he found himself transfixed for the moment.*
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Post by The Persian on Nov 26, 2008 11:25:48 GMT -5
It was strange, he thought, how the sense of eyes upon him could feel familiar. He did not know the man who watched him, but he felt as if he should in some way. The gaze was piercing and uncanny, but he shrugged off his absurd notions and told himself it was merely his own marked difference in this country that made him such a target. The man had no reason to know him, and though he dressed in a suit he was well aware that he did not fit in and would be a figure of comment wherever he went.
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Post by Rosalind on Nov 26, 2008 12:56:37 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." "Hmmm," said Rosalind, smiling, then frowning, the smile not having left her eyes. "There is indeed truth in that." She stood, her hand remaining very still as she though she were trying not to disturb Alex's hand over it, either to preserve the moment or to pretend that it hadn't happened. It was both, in truth; she did not want to try and acknowledge what it meant, but this was both out of a bit of fear and a great deal of reverence. She had always had a lot of respect for the connections in touching another person, but she did not like to think about what that meant about her. She pulled her hand away slowly, then adjusted her hat a moment longer than necessary. Then she pushed her hands safely into her pockets against and beamed. "Shall we, milady?"
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Post by Alex on Nov 26, 2008 13:30:38 GMT -5
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Post by Julian on Nov 26, 2008 14:46:30 GMT -5
*Julian couldn't shake it. And there was something in the man's gaze that led him to believe that the feeling was mutual. Seeing as it would be some time before he would be needed again, Julian dipped his head to the man subtly, then stood and slipped backstage. Vanishing into the shadows of the wings, he reemerged discretely behind the man and too the right.*
"If you appreciate opera, I recommend you not take too keen of note before opening night." *He spoke smoothly, a nonchalant, if unearthly air about him.*
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Post by The Persian on Nov 26, 2008 15:08:25 GMT -5
There was something oddly familiar about the voice, too, but something that almost defied placement in its unearthliness. He'd known another such, but this was not him and it seemed impossible that there was another in the world.
"I have not yet formed an opinion," he said, in excellent French that was nonetheless colored by his native tongue. "I am new to the form. Am I breaking some rule by being here?"
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Post by Julian on Nov 26, 2008 15:16:09 GMT -5
*Julian had to bite back a chuckle. As if the 'rules' of the Opera staff was of any concern to him. He was ever vigilant in his study of the foreigner, the one obviously from afar and yet strangely...a comfort? Was that what that was? How odd. Julian's eyes shifted askance from the stage to the man, brow lifted.*
"You're hardly committing a sin that can't be forgiven." *His words were almost serpentine, but inviting, soft and yet off-putting.*
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Post by The Persian on Nov 26, 2008 15:48:49 GMT -5
The man's gaze was an unsettling, unblinking one, and he was reminded of a cobra--but a particularly alluring one. It wasn't that he personally felt a sexual attraction to him, but there was something hypnotizing in his eyes and voice. It was almost as if...
No, that was an absurd thought, and he would not entertain it.
"You would know, I suppose," he said smoothly, though it was not exactly how he felt. After a pause, his gaze flickered to the stage and back. "Unless I am mistaken about the part you perform in this work."
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Post by Julian on Nov 26, 2008 15:56:13 GMT -5
I would. *Julian's smile widened just a touch before his lips parted slowly in thought.*
"All the world's a stage...." *He murmured before lifting his voice a touch.*
"But surely you did not brave the ire of the staff for such a dilution of the piece." *His eyes narrowed.*
"Can I help you find what you're looking for?"
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Post by The Persian on Nov 26, 2008 17:04:29 GMT -5
There was no reason for this man to take any special interest in him; it was odd, decidedly, that he had attracted more than a few stares or a request to leave the premises. But there was an intensity there that indicated this was important, somehow. That he was important.
"Everything and anything," he said, a trace of private amusement in his eyes. "Are you suggesting I come back for the performance?"
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Post by Julian on Nov 29, 2008 8:19:14 GMT -5
*Julian had the strangest manner of appearing both aloof and intriguing as his gaze returned to the stage.*
"Perhaps. Though I would be surprised if that was what you sought here."
*It was an odd thought, someone coming to the Opera for something other than opera, but still...Julian could not shake this feeling.*
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Post by Maleo Basilio Addams on Nov 30, 2008 19:44:13 GMT -5
When there seemed to be enough of a lull in the rehearsals, Maleo slunk up beside Carlos and murmured toward his ear.
"I see you made it in, Senor. I did not think you would be returning this morning. You seemed so... exhausted after the party last night..." A wry grin spread over his lips, though he did not reveal those vicious teeth again. Not here, anyway. Lowering his voice again, he just had to add in a whisper, "How late were you up anyway?"
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Post by The Persian on Dec 1, 2008 1:14:37 GMT -5
*Julian had the strangest manner of appearing both aloof and intriguing as his gaze returned to the stage.* "Perhaps. Though I would be surprised if that was what you sought here." *It was an odd thought, someone coming to the Opera for something other than opera, but still...Julian could not shake this feeling.* The daroga watched him silently for a moment. Disturbing, intriguing; he'd certainly found something. "Is there something else to find here?" he asked quietly. "What do you think I should seek?"
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Post by Carlos Castro on Dec 1, 2008 1:17:25 GMT -5
When there seemed to be enough of a lull in the rehearsals, Maleo slunk up beside Carlos and murmured toward his ear. "I see you made it in, Senor. I did not think you would be returning this morning. You seemed so... exhausted after the party last night..." A wry grin spread over his lips, though he did not reveal those vicious teeth again. Not here, anyway. Lowering his voice again, he just had to add in a whisper, "How late were you up anyway?" There was some embarrassment, of course, but Carlos was not about to share that with Maleo Addams. He turned, smiling, the full force of a most satisfying evening showing in his expression (despite his headache). "Señor Addams," he said pleasantly. "I was more worried about you. So rude of me, not to... see you home. But you got there anyway, I trust, as you seem hale enough this morning."
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