Welcome to Gaia! ::

((Just so everyone knows, if we do a small change to the final lair scene it will not involve Christine picking Erik instead of Raoul. I do not consider that to be a minor change since that changes the outcome of the entire story. If that changes you mind any speak now or forever hold your peace. Even people that aren't in the RP who *might* have voted can put in their opinion on this matter since I know some of them read the RP thread.))

((If you want things to get moving again I suggest you start sending PMs to Eric_the_Phantom. We can't do much until the whole Prima Donna thing gets over with.))

((That's even worse! *clonks again with Madame Giry's cane before quickly returning it to her*))

((im totally bored out of my skull now))

((Because the person we are waiting for has not shown up so all we CAN do is talk OOC.))

((Many apologies for my absence, how very stupid/manager-like of me sweatdrop ))

Things were supposed to be getting better, now that managers were in the same mindset and of once accord things, business was supposed to be going smoothly which meant no more arguments and no more headaches for the pair; however, Carlotta ruined the idea. She always had her way and even though she technically already did, as her pink skirt tore down the backstage halls of the opera house, she always had to have her dramatic way.

"Traitors!" She screeched,"You would have left me for that Daae?" Her whole body twisted at the idea, so dramatically was Carlotta's reaction that her bustle still shook for a few seconds after the impact.

"Signora please!" M.Moncharmin called after his walking (or rustling and bustling as it was) profit, but she was too lost in her accusations to pay them any heed.

"Signori, e vero?
Non, non, non voglio udire!
Lasciatemi morire!
O padre mio!
Dio! "

She's even slipped into her home language, and in verse no less...? thought Andre, it's far worse than I'd thought... He looked to his partner who still stood rather perplexed by the whole outburst, standing with the note grasped in his hands, his knuckles starting to turn white. Andre glared, "You know this all your fault right?".

Perhaps he hadn't thought the prima donna intelligent enough to realize he had never liked her, that her ego was so large that she would, that she could, only assume that both her managers were well pleased with her. Yet, even if Carlotta was nothing but a candyball she was a ball with a brain that knew how to manipulate...she was a candyball of manipulation...a manipulating candyball, well she was unpleseantly decieving anyhow and if she had tasted even a hint of displeasure in them she would make sure to over-react until Firmin turned his tastes towards cotton candy. But of course M. Richard had to start the damn thing but ignoring his partner, that was by ignoring him, Firmin should have known that Andre knew better. There was no use in silently flaming his partner with thoughts of damnation, however, the damage had been done. But he swore never to forget his partners mishap and endangerment of their partnership.

"And you ought to start remedying the situation now."

Firmin glanced at his partner as if seeing him for the first time. "And what do you suggest?" he snapped.

M.Moncharmin motioned towards the diva, a trail of people flooding after her like the trainof her dress where brief remnants of the recent disaster. The situation held some reminiscance of when both managers had arrived and Carlotta had thrown her first little tantrum so Moncharmin suggested the only remedy he knew: "Beg forgiveness!"

Firmin's eyes lit up at his partners voice, something had been removed from within the clockwork of his mind so once again the cogs began to move and Firmin saw Carlotta no longer as a black smudge on his career but an investment. And his investement was leaving in a fit of rage! M.Richard snapped back into action for the life of the moment, throwing the note aside rather absent mindedly and pursuing the same goal his partner had seen the entire time. M.Moncharmin was also riled into pursuing the diva, to make sure his partner didn't screw this oppurtunity up as well, stepping on the note he had just dropped.

So the parchment piece that had caused so much anxiety only a moment before had been left forgetten on the opera stairs, with an ugly black foot mark (made from a handsomely expensive shoe as shoe-prints go) on it's scribbled red ink, fading back into the shadows from whence it dared to emerge. Emerging and forgotten, so the life of the limelight kept passing it by.
~
What a circus it was backstage! And what a clown Carlotta was making herself out to be, although Firmin was hard pressed to find a time when she wasn't. M.Richard now battled his way to find the diva, in attempt to appease her before she would leave them for good, but Firmin silently knew that this would never happend but he only wished to smooth over the whole process as soon as possible. Through the gathering crowd M.Richard could see M.Moncharmin lingering the back, only slowly gaining pace, it was almost as if he was enjoying the show! and Firmin took little comfort in knowing Andre would be there when he found the diva, his presence would only serve to mock or scorn him should his tongue not deliver a specifically delicious treat to La Carlotta, her hungry appetite for attention being a very difficult one to appease. Oh what to say to stifle her drama?! What to say to calm her anger?! And how much was enough?!....when would the torture end?

Stagehands from all over the opera were gathering to see the spectacle that unfolded before their eyes, and those who were not crammed in the hallways, following from the previous scene within the opera's main parlor, were taking seats as it was from higher ground. The diva met these "delinquints" of the opera with stiff and privy nose, stuck up high, and still ranting to herself in her natural tongue and the same honor was paid to her as the stage hands laughed, pointed, jeered and -Oh Gawd! Firmin cried in his head, suprised at their extravegant behavior, How indecent! Nonetheless Firmin followed until he reached the shaking pink bustle of the the diva, as she turned sharply into her dressing room. Here he only hoped to subdue the drama, if only in attempts to cancel out the diva's adverse reaction to...him.

"Prima donna..." he began smoothly, sweetly, dipped in sugar as his eyes met the room about him, expensivly adorned, overly frangranced, and packed with flowers. His eyes met the level head of his partner M.Moncharmin who had managed to slip past the crowd and he signaled to him to shut the doors in order to drown out the sound of the jeering stagehands. Now the room was filled with only her admirers. Perhaps they could soothe the savage beast yet.

His attention was drawn once again to those magnificently....fake flowers that incidently littered her room, no doubt from past admirers and past shows, she kept every one as a token of her own greatness (although he noticed a bare corner of the room where her triumphant trophies from the previous night were supposed to occupy, and Firmin's stomach sank, quickly moving to shadow the spot where they should have been wanting to remind the diva of nothing but her own praise and "worthiness"). Every flower in that room was overly garnished with ribbons, too brightly colored, outragously fake and overlyperfumed that it almost stank. Every one of his compliments, Firmin realized, would likewise have to stink with a sickly sweet aroma. But it was what the diva evidently wanted, and what she wanted, she always got.

"Prima donna..." he began again, eyeing a yellow tulip in the nearest basket at Carlottas feet. "Your song has not yet ended, you're admirers are gathered here to implore you! See how they shout your name?" There certainly was a nasty little chant outside her dressing room door but it wasn't in her favor, however, Firmin knew about as much flattery as Carlotta knew about manipulation (in fact they both worked hand-in-hand) and Firmin knew that he could use this to his advantage. And there, he saw tiny forget-me-nots "Just think of how they all adore you!"

M.Moncharmin moved away from the doors, making sure to protect his investment, sublminally suggesting that Carlotta stay through all of his partners flattery. "How can you bow out on us now?"

((definantly plan to add more, posting what I have incase I don't finish the rest tonight))

M.Richard's flattery and M.Moncharmin's intimations were working their extremely calculative magic, although La Carlotta still seemed a bit repugnant towards them, but the two managers could see that her face had softened and her ears had perked up just slightly in order to hear more. M.Richard knew that the diva's appetite for admiration would soon play her back directly into they're hands, and there! in the diva's hand now would be the flower to inspire his words to create a wonderfully enticing spoonful of sugar that he knew the diva could not resist.

"Prima Donna..."La Carlotta certainly liked the address, within these walls it was just a little less than calling her queen, "enchant us once again."

"How can you deny us the triumph in store?"

There was M.Moncharmin, throwing in his two cents again, a small investement for what he thought the diva was worth.

"The world is amazed when you take the stage. Sing Prima Donna, once more!"

Yes, that seemed to be a prettier prize and more fragrant a flower than anything La Carlotta had in the room, both the managers constant praise had provingly turned the diva's head around and the pretty polly now agreed to perform as she seemed to burst into song right in front of them.

" Prima Donna your song shall live agian,
you took a snub, but there's a public who-"
But the managers weren't really intrested in her song.

They were, however, intrested in anything that would keep her there, perhaps anything they could get they're hands on that might further persuade her finicky little tastes into becoming a permanent addition to the opera house without any more tantrums (and by permanent Firmin could only be assured of that night). So the two managers, allowing the diva to have her private sollo, went about ushering a few expensive items into the diva's room (well not too expensive, Moncharmin made sure of that) until she had turned everything down except for her blasted dog and a very fine necklace (which had somehow slipped past Moncharmins tight-budgeted grip but the diva had already accepted it so it was far too late to consider taking it back).

"Think how you'll shine in that final encore!"

Well maybe Moncharming would let her wear them for the night but that necklace really could be useful to them...Nonetheless both managers had flattered themsleves into good graces like a nephew of the queen who had been banned from the royal court but becuase of his quick tonque managed to soothe-say himself right back in. Yet as an offical queen of the Opera Populaire La Carlotta had heard their flattery and accepted a gift of pardon but they hadn't re-sworn their allegiance to her (so harsh was this queen's punishment that evidently she evicted them both from court and country!). So both managers had to re-build that bridge of faith between their pink queen and that money-making voice of hers, and the only way to do thus was to play into her paranoia. It certainly wasn't hard to figure out what that was.

"You were right Prima Donna!" her subjects cried. "You were cheated by the chorus girl who's gone and slept with our patron! Ah how unlucky we were to discover this only too late. They'll never get away with this Prima Donna we assure you they can't escape the drama they've create But oh! don't think of this as a failure or a downfall Prima Donna, just think of what a triumph you would be if you played the part in this opera? Sung loudly and in a foreign tongue, the perfect opera! Prima Donna the world is at your feet a nation waits and how it hates to be cheated. Light up the stage with that age old raport;sing, Prima Donna once more!!!"

A long and bloated pledge perhaps but a pledge nonetheless, and now they were apart of the nation they had at first so hazardly been flun into and the nation was whole and there was money to be made becuase she had agreed.

Carlotta would sing!

((and I'm calling this el fin for the Prima Donna scene))