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Post by Toby on Mar 9, 2008 17:03:30 GMT -5
**NEW DAY**
*Toby sat down alone in the pit after everyone else had left. He could only remember a few things about his time in Paris...names, faces, individual scenes...but he did remember the music.*
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Delirium
- Ingenious Pilot -
The cherry stones say I?m going to be a kangaroo when I grow up. %\1\%
Posts: 137
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Post by Delirium on Mar 21, 2008 21:58:04 GMT -5
*Delirium sat on the edge of the stage, humming a tuneless song and swinging her legs.*
"'Lo."
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Post by Toby on Mar 21, 2008 22:00:04 GMT -5
*Toby jumped a bit at her voice*
"Hello, Miss."
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Delirium
- Ingenious Pilot -
The cherry stones say I?m going to be a kangaroo when I grow up. %\1\%
Posts: 137
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Post by Delirium on Mar 21, 2008 22:01:30 GMT -5
"Whacha doin'?"
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Post by Toby on Mar 21, 2008 22:04:07 GMT -5
"Just-just practicing, miss."
*He hugged the violin to his chest*
"Who're you?"
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Delirium
- Ingenious Pilot -
The cherry stones say I?m going to be a kangaroo when I grow up. %\1\%
Posts: 137
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Post by Delirium on Mar 21, 2008 22:07:49 GMT -5
"Whacha practicing? Are you practicing learning how to turn little pebbles into very small frogs or jumping up and down in a circle until you can fly or being orange?"
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Post by Toby on Mar 21, 2008 22:09:18 GMT -5
*Toby blinked*
"I- I don't think so..."
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Delirium
- Ingenious Pilot -
The cherry stones say I?m going to be a kangaroo when I grow up. %\1\%
Posts: 137
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Post by Delirium on Mar 21, 2008 22:13:15 GMT -5
"Oh. Kay then."
*She resumed humming her little song. From seemingly out of nowhere, she'd procured a little rubber ball that changed color every time she bounced it.*
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Post by Toby on Mar 21, 2008 22:14:40 GMT -5
*Toby was torn between fear and fascination. He reached out and tried to touch the sphere*
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Delirium
- Ingenious Pilot -
The cherry stones say I?m going to be a kangaroo when I grow up. %\1\%
Posts: 137
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Post by Delirium on Mar 21, 2008 22:21:00 GMT -5
*She tossed it to him with a friendly grin.*
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Post by Carlos Castro on May 21, 2008 12:41:11 GMT -5
**NEW DAY, DRESS REHEARSAL**
*He had been working hard. Knowing that Holmes was working on the case--and carefully avoiding looking at the pit at all--Carlos had been able to focus on singing. For once. It galled him to be made to work at something he'd worked a long time to not have to work at. But that bitterness only plagued him when he wasn't singing; in the moment, he forgot all that and merely was.
His passion, however, was eluding him. Even at this dress rehearsal, a full run through, he had not found the right note. He had thought long and hard on it, knowing Maestro would hear whatever was behind his performance. He knew fear, and desperation, and deception, but the closest he could come to passion... was sex.
And it would have to do. With, of course, some concessions to decency. The edge that led his love arias, therefore, was that of a man who had often been called "boy" in intimate situations, and whose intimate situations were, more often than not, entirely one sided.*
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Post by Erik Destler on May 21, 2008 12:51:28 GMT -5
Destler kept to his place in the flies, waffling between seething frustration at the boy's lack of understanding for the part, and some small mote of pride for what he did manage to crank out.
He also looked now and then into the pit, trying to discover whom it was that the young tenor believed to be himself, but Carlos did very well to keep his eyes from the players, gave nothing away, and Destler could only assume he'd been telling the truth.
But when the lusty and...disquieting note crept into Castro's professions of love, Destler growled and had to keep himself from leaping down upon the boy and strangling him outright. He sent his voice down instead, angry, hissing in the man's ear.
"What, exactly, do you think you're singing about here! You are perverting the role!"
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Post by Carlos Castro on May 21, 2008 13:23:40 GMT -5
*Carlos' eyebrows lifted at the voice and a sweat of fear beaded his forehead. How unfair it was, to confront him when there was no way to answer without appearing mad himself.*
"Finito!" *he cried, and the music screeched to a halt.* "I need no more rehearsal for this. You are all wasting my time; continue if you like, but sin yo."
*Carlos stalked majestically off stage, the role of affronted, irrational diva one he was born to play.*
((To dressing room))
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Post by Erik Destler on May 21, 2008 13:29:00 GMT -5
The heavy sandbag that came crashing down to the stage directly after Carlos vacated it may have started new rumors of the Opera Ghost.
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Post by Raoul de Chagny on Jun 5, 2008 16:28:08 GMT -5
**NEW REHEARSAL. YOU CALL THE OPERA.**
*Raoul stood somewhat awkwardly at the back, watching the rehearsal quietly so he could see just what he'd invested in.*
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