Welcome to Gaia! ::

Mary Jane assured Christine following her into the dressing room, "You did more than Carlotta could of ever done!" She said with such happiness in her voice. Though Mary Jane was suppose to be rehearsing, she'd rather help Christine with her down and dress. "That tutor must really be something. He is an wise and honorable man, if only you knew his name." She said as she got the down needed for her, and she quickly put it around her. "You know, I only wish the best of you. Unlike Desiree, trying to get promoted because of a suggestion. My, won't she get a lashing. Almost hard to believe good-two-shoes is in trouble now." She said as Mary Jane started to fix Christine's hair, "I think I know just the right thing to do with your hair to make you look like the Queen of the Opera!" Mary Jane said as she immediatly started, putting a few clips into Christine's hair to hold it in place. In some places she braided, in others she combed, and it was begining to look beautiful. She took out the clips, and worked some more with her hair. Once finished, it was gorgious. "A Queen must look her best, even for rehearsal." Mary Jane said and found the dress and left it next to Christine, "Well, I best go to my row before the Mme. Giry is to have me killed, or worse, fired." Mary Jane said as he hurried out of the room and onto the stage.

Triumph!

He could already sense it. It would be Christine that everbody saw and heard instead of Carlotta, and at the gala opening that would immediately propell her into the spotlight. She would triumph even if he had to personally drag Carlotta kicking and screeching out of his opera house. Her triumph was his triumph as well. After all, he had been the one to teach her.

If he could not be her lover, then at least he was able to give her his love through music. The unfairness of it was utterly frustrating, but the closeness of her impending triumph was enough to push those thoughts aside for now.

Looking at Madame Giry, he smirked and secretly made his way over to her. The ballerinas needed serious improvement, but everyone needed to laugh every now and then. That was something Antoinette had never learned. She had always been so serious. Even as a child he had rarely seen her smile, and he could probably count on his hands the number of times he'd heard her laugh.

(( thanx much! I'll bring you guys back some cheese-heads from teh Wisconsin. See ya! ))

Christine chuckled softly, "Thanks, Mary." She grinned, "You can do with my hair as you will, and I am sure it would always be beautiful, however you did my hair." The grin lingered on her features as she looked to the dress after Mary Jane had finished. "Alright, goodbye for now, Mary!" She looked then into the mirror of her dressing room, looking directly at her hair then her face. "Yes.. you did do splendidly, Mary.. so well.. very splendidly."

She sighed, changing into her dress. The gala was even a few hours away, yet, but she still wanted to see how she looked in the lead's dress. "Oh so beautiful.." She grinned.

(Does any of you want to time lapse to the gala?)

(alright, -nodnods-)

((Sorry for being gone. I went to the movies with a friend to see The Ring 2. It was about as good as the first, which isn't saying much.))

Antoinette had shouted at the girls again for coming in late on the music, and had even bopped Piangi with her cane for trying to give the girls a few drops of brandy. Sure it calmed the nerves, but most of the dancers were far too small and goofy as it was to be given it.
After they had run through the dance and it was time to move on to one of the vocal scenes, she had dismissed them so they could rest until the gala this evening. Where the girls went now she didn't care. As the remaining number of girls scurried off, Antoinette moved off backstage to calm her nerves down. No matter how many years she had been doing this and how many gala nights she had seen and even performed in, she would still get the jitters. The girls were performing less and working less vigorously than they used to. She knew it was because of their fear for the Phantom, fearing that if they messed up, he'd send a sandbag flying down on their heads! And goodness only knew what the incident with La Carlotta would bring! Sometimes she questioned Erik's methods.
Speaking of Erik...
Madame Giry jumped, nearly dropping her silver cane as she felt a small furry weight drop onto her hair and let loose a frightened squeal as she too made a small sound of surprise. Grabbing the little stage mouse, the woman gently tossed it to the floor and 'boo'ed it away. Only one person could've done that and had actually made the creature drop onto the center of her head.
"You really know how to get someone's attention," She said roughly, not even bothering to try and see into the catwalks above her head. "If you are going to drop anything else on any others, let me know so that I will at least have a voice to object." First the backdrop with Carlotta and now a mouse with her. Next thing would be a trombone player on Reyer!
Antoinette tapped her cane against the floorboards impatiently. "Do you ever do anything in person anymore, Erik? Notes and props seem to be your new way of communication. You haven't gone mute on me, have you now?"

Used to his monkey-like antics, Antoinette merely watched with a bored gaze as he dropped to the floor via a rope and quickly slid into the shadows that seemed to choke the area they were in. Always paranoid, he was. Ever since she had brought him here, he wanted no one but her to see him. Though she was sure he was itching to reveal himself to Christine. It was only a matter of time before he blew a nerve on his patience.
Rolling her eyes at his last comment, she merely replied, "Oh how wonderful it is to be respected by a spectre." It was sarcasm, but she knew that he understood where her opinion was with his little charade. To her it seemed like a degration to slink around an old Opera House and frighten little ballet rats with his twisted humor and magic tricks. The man had genius, he was just displaying it in a poor manner.
"Really Erik, you don't think I know that my girls are dancing like drunks? Half of the girls sometimes do show up after a few cups of spirits!" She sighed, shaking her head. "I'm not so sure they're worth the risk of a bloody seizure. I'm getting too old to do anything but stand outside your box and give you a damned program." Antoinette added with a bit of venom. Her years as a dancers had weakened her knees and ankles (hence her need for a cane) and when either weren't bothering her, her back would crook her like an old haggard. Forty-one and with the health of a woman twice her age.
"And I never disagreed to the backdrop that fell on our resident Diva. I merely wish you wouldn't play your jokes in public. It frightens my dancers so that they end up becoming slobs! And don't you think giving them a good old spook will fix things."
Falling silent after letting the rest of her aggrivation go with her routine lecture to her dear friend, Madame Giry gave a great shrug that moved her entire torso with her small shoulders. "Christine Daae has improved since I last heard her, Erik. You do a fine job as a tutor. But I wonder how long you're able to lie to her. She isn't as brainless as she acts sometimes--don't you think of glaring at me, I'll give you one back. I only worry for you. It's bad enough to make a spectacle of yourself with these notes and the occasional incident, but if you slip up with Mlle. Daae, there will be little I would be able to do to protect you. I'm only an old woman." Her tone had gone from upset to melancholy as she expressed her never-ending worry about him. She'd seen him frightened into tears before, and many a time had shielded him from the world and its cruelties. But if Christine learned the truth of her so-called Angel, it would only be a matter of time before another found out and he would be hunted.

As if by some miracle of the Good Lord Himself, her gaze softened and her hard features laxed so she seemed only but a troubled woman of her own age. Erik spoke of himself so lowly. No matter how many times she had tried telling him he should be grateful for his talents and his genius, he continued to verbally beat himself and tear his spirit away from hers. They were like siblings, and like such if one was in pain, so was the other. Erik had been there the night her husband had been killed. He had cried with her after the funeral and he had shared happiness with her when Meg was born only a few months after.
And likewise, she had comforted him when he had nightmares of his life with the Gypsies, and laughed with him when he felt like being a little p***k and annoying anyone who had bothered them both. But, those memories were long gone, and both had grown cynical in their ages. Antoinette was a sour thing of a dance instructor, and Erik was a man slowly driving himself mad with love for a woman who would most likely never love him in return.
She listened with a frown as he continued to bash himself with words and choke on his own insults as he began to cry. Why was it he always did this? Ever since he'd fallen for Christine, his fits of anger and bouts of depression had increased in lengths and severity. It was frightening her how fast he was slipping into the blackness of his own mind.
"You let your face get the best of you, Erik. I am the only person who has seen your face and not screamed and even now I never give a shriek when you decide to prance about with your mask off. I'm terribly insulted that you would think my kindness back then was just another way of putting you in another cage. But I cannot argue with you, for it is useless and we haven't time to waste on petty arguements." She replied with bitter calm, both hands resting on her cane as she stared into the darkness where she heard his voice coming from.
"You are all she speaks of, Erik. You are the only thing keeping her from slipping back into the mentality of a little girl who lost her Father to disease and poverty. Perhaps she does not love you as you do her, but she has affection for you." Antoinette added with slight emphasis. She was trying to cheer up the poor man, which she knew would do little good. "And do not say what I have known in my life. I'm older than you by eight years and by default I should be the one saying what you've felt."
Giving a great sigh, she lowered her head as if she were praying, "make no mistake that you have a friend here. This old hag might not be much, but she's all you have right now. Now off with you, Erik. Calm yourself before the gala performance. I'm sure your student does not want her tutor in hot tears when she sings for you."