Welcome to Gaia! ::

((I sent Elven a virtual kick yesterday. I'll give her today, but if she doesn't have anything posted by tomorrow I'll send her another.))

((Someone will have to take over playing Carlotta for now. I think having Ericdo the part would be easier.))

((*Makes RP go back to top of page to encourage everyone else to post*))

~Monsieur Reyer~

It perhaps would have been a good idea to head in to the Opera Populaire on time today to get some paperwork done before rehearsals for the next performance began. In fact, he knew it was a good idea.

But Reyer didn't really care at the moment. He'd had some wine last night to help himself relax, and he'd been lulled into quite a deep, comforting sleep. The fact that the gala had been such a success had certainly helped!

The director now strode down the streets of Paris, a small list in his hand. Well, since he was going to be later than usual in getting to the Opera Populaire today, he may as well get some shopping done.

Monsieur Reyer got his provisions, blissfully unaware of the turmoil occurring even now at where he'd worked for years...

((Yes we defiantly need more minor characters traipsing about don't we? ))

A colorful fury swept across the Opera Populaire's main parlor as Carlotta had made her main entrance and, temporarily delayed of course as to assure that the diva retained all of the attention for the brief flury of the moment, then her party of spectators and caretakers (proffesionals, unproffesionals, paid and stalkers alike) flooded in after her with cries of "poor Carlotta" on their lips. Her husband Piangi was one with the crowd, although his racous cry may have been the loudest of them all, next the yipping of Carlotta's precious dog, that is.

The managers were quite surpised at this sudden Cirque-de-Carlotta breaking through the Opera's doors and they looked at Carlotta in dumb silence as she hiked up her skirt to climb those stairs and meet them. Firmin couldn't help but noticing that she and her troupe looked like the head of a gayly colored tropical parrot (My god, she's pink. Was actually one of his minds outbursts) and that her group of pamperers and adorers that fondly followed was this fawning parrots tail feathers. And as La Carlotta ascended those stairs he found that the head of the parrot was to speak with his associate and himself, and that lots of preening and training were involved in the delicate matter of keeping all those feathers clean and bright for show. Training was something that certainly kept the parrot together itself, that this wasn't just a dramatic gestorial scene for attention but if Firmin asked "Polly want a cracker?" he wouldn't get a simple croak for yes or no but a screaming cry from the parrot that would remind him how expensive they were, how needed they were, and how they better damn well get them more than a cracker to satisfy their hunger. Perhaps that is why Firmin had never like La Carlotta when he saw her...she was expensive; and even now, when he saw that this pink parrot head had stopped before them, that she was going to croak something that might very well cause another hole in the managers' wallets. Becuase he was no quite convinced she wasn't going to ask for a cracker.

Waving yet another note that the manger's now recognized all-too-well, the pink parrot pointed a finger at their beloved patron and opened her brightly painted beak. "I have your letter, a letter which I rather resent!"

Firmin could feel money leaving their account...or atleast a couple of knots tie in his stomach, the feelings had become conjoined over the years, and he asked their patron (perhaps without thinking): "And did you send it?"

((I point out that this view of La Carlotta is entirely from the managers' point of view. I really don't think that badly of the character, although this was a rather fun entry.))

"As if he would!" Andre retorted, what a horrible money-losing statement his partner had just uttered, and what a horrible money-losing scene this La Carlotta was creating!

And she wasn't going to stop. The circus parrot balked back on her tail feathers for a few moments, rather taken back by the patron's statement (what! did she expect for the Viscomte to fall at her feet and confess?) and gathered her dress about her. Once again with her haughty air she stuck her nose out to the patron, addressing him defiantly as if he were another feather stuck in her bosom, as the managers were sure she thought he should be.

"You didn't send it?"

Firmin turned to Andre when he had chastised him, he had thougt he'd been rather on the ball, but Andre was quite sure that Firmin was in a desperate attempt, still trying to chase it. Firmin decided that the best course would then be to stand still, and wait for the ball to hit him. "What's going on?"

Perhaps La Carlotta didn't quite understand the patron's previous response, or perhaps she thought she was still in last night's Opera...which she wasn't in, so she was making up accordingly by announcing (for dramatic sense, of course) her question again.

"You dare to tell me that this is not the letter you sent?"

The managers stared at each other, Firmin confused, Andre disgusted but secretly confused; and the opera came to a stand still behind them as they waited for the patron's response.

((I'm using all these bad cliches in my writing sweatdrop . And I apologize for cutting out a line Elven Foxx I thought it was rather redundant single-liner, besides you now have the stage.))

While mopping the floor in the lobby, he listened intently as the object of his lustful eye was being mentioned by his managers and the patron

((You may play her. Just post your part please.))

There was a pause, as if the Opera Populaire had taken a deep breath at this new letter, an addition to the threats already flying about the managers' heads. The Opera Ghost wanted Christine to perform and albeit Christine was amazing the managers realized that Christine wasn't there, yes she'd had a bit of a dissappearing act happen in her case, and this was something the manager's simply couldn't rely on.

M.Richard couldn't help but feel the distaste for the diva role in his mouth like bile, she was difficult to persuade and difficult to control and Firmin never liked the thought of bending his knee to anybody other than a patron (whom, it seemed, the managers were always performing tricks for) for the promise of a performance. And now he like Christine, in fact what a prime choice, a homely girl with a simple smile and hopefully simple needs. He felt the opera would be better off without the diva, but he understood the current circumstance. Firmin looked to Andre...

M.Moncharmin had never let personal opinion cloud the matter of his judgement. True he was judge on character after long periods being allowed to observe how the specimen reacted and behaved in certain lights, and true La Carlotta may have been the worst opera specimen they had ever envcountered but...Andre looked at his partner decisevilly.

Andre nodded. Firmin conceded. The fact remained that the only opera singer they could be certain of was La Carlotta, becuase the notes weren't in her favor, and becuase she stood before them right then, physically. Moncharmin was quite sure, physically could be trusted in the midst of this gangling hoax. So both the managers took their chosen prima donna and led her up the steps; quite taken with her Operatic sentiments, it was almost as if they sang their ease to the worried parrots mind...all in effort to see she wouldn't squak again.

"Far too many notes for my taste," began Moncharmin, thinking to take this time to give a nice long speech to their pretty pink polly on how the managers were completely agreed that she was the only one to be singing in this Opera while some nuisance ghost ran about pining for Christine.

"And most of them are about Christine!" added Firmin.

M.Moncharmin nodded in agreement with his counterpart. Yes, they were defiantly in one accord..."That's all we've heard since we came was Mrs. Daee's name--!"