Post by Deleted on May 14, 2005 16:40:16 GMT -5
(A new Opera has been built, called the L'Opera di Fumo e Degli Specchi, it was built grander and more magnificent than the L’Opera Populaire, but right on the grounds. It's mysterious owner rarely comes out but she is said to be a Russian Pianist, a female no less. The Phantom of the Opera has come to the Opera to sell his Opera and thus meets the pianist. Erik needed. Post coming.))
She was young, but her face and eyes were too serious for her wrinkless face. Brown hair was pulled into a restrictive ponytail by a thin black ribbon, in a masculine style. Her clothes were a loose skirt and an even looser shirt, she looked quite to casual for someone managing an Opera. She tapped the cherry wood desk impatiently; she had so many people to interview and so little time. Her fingers were long and lean, but well muscled; she was after all a pianist. Her eyes strayed to the most interesting letter she had got as of yet.
“Dear Mademoiselle Cethrine Feder,
I have heard rumors that you are opening a new Opera House on the grounds of my old one. I will be arriving shortly to scout out your Opera, and list any improvements I may wish to modify. I am sure you will be most congenial. I also have a new opera I would like for you to perform.”
It was unsigned but she the blood red seal of a wax skull was enough for her to know that it was the infamous Opera Ghost from the days of the Prima Donna Christine Daae. She was a superstitious woman by nature, so she of course didn’t believe the Epoque when it pronounced him dead. What did reporters know of the ghost, when supposedly his own beloved had only seen behind the mask once?
Ever patient she waited for something to happen, for something was going to happen, it hung in the air like dust in an antique mansion. She could feel it on her skin, a dry prickly feeling of anticipation that she so adored. Maybe she would find her prima ballerina, or maybe she would meet the infamous Opera Ghost.
She was young, but her face and eyes were too serious for her wrinkless face. Brown hair was pulled into a restrictive ponytail by a thin black ribbon, in a masculine style. Her clothes were a loose skirt and an even looser shirt, she looked quite to casual for someone managing an Opera. She tapped the cherry wood desk impatiently; she had so many people to interview and so little time. Her fingers were long and lean, but well muscled; she was after all a pianist. Her eyes strayed to the most interesting letter she had got as of yet.
“Dear Mademoiselle Cethrine Feder,
I have heard rumors that you are opening a new Opera House on the grounds of my old one. I will be arriving shortly to scout out your Opera, and list any improvements I may wish to modify. I am sure you will be most congenial. I also have a new opera I would like for you to perform.”
It was unsigned but she the blood red seal of a wax skull was enough for her to know that it was the infamous Opera Ghost from the days of the Prima Donna Christine Daae. She was a superstitious woman by nature, so she of course didn’t believe the Epoque when it pronounced him dead. What did reporters know of the ghost, when supposedly his own beloved had only seen behind the mask once?
Ever patient she waited for something to happen, for something was going to happen, it hung in the air like dust in an antique mansion. She could feel it on her skin, a dry prickly feeling of anticipation that she so adored. Maybe she would find her prima ballerina, or maybe she would meet the infamous Opera Ghost.
