Teressa Lavalais
Fine. You?re rehired. Now shut up or I will run you through.
Posts: 248
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Post by Teressa Lavalais on Jul 9, 2012 21:03:13 GMT -5
Teressa needed to practice. It was SHAMEFUL how much time she'd wasted just wandering about the house. Today was it, the day she'd devote to practicing her routines and tricks. She didn't want to lose memory of it, and she wanted to stay flexible.
So she'd dressed properly in her sheer sirwal and muslin top that just barely conserved her modesty, and redrew her tattoos back onto her feet and hands. Tying on her gold mask, she took the Victrola and some records she'd stolen from the library and went up to the opera house stage.
Once there, she set the Victrola on the edge of the stage and put in a record that sounded more like traditional Middle Eastern music than the others. She'd practice ballet later, for right now, she needed to do stretches and practice acrobatics.
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Erik Spectre
Don Juan Triumphant
One must get used to everything in life, even eternity...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Spectre on Jul 21, 2012 17:51:45 GMT -5
Érik felt... lonely. A constant companion, loneliness and its effects did not upset him much until recently, when the prospect of love was now in his grasp. It was as if he was forming his own real... happy family, or at least that's what he thought. Christine, dear sweet thing that she was, hated to be caged, so he permitted her to leave his sight so long as she returned. And he had the little one, Little Meg for company. She was a lovely girl when she did not ask questions, or whine, and was a very good dancer. Perhaps... perhaps he might keep her. Yes. Not like a pet, but more... something else.
Oh well, he had no idea what to do with his time anymore. It would seem composing music was the last thing on his mind, for once in his life, but he had nothing to occupy the vacant slots in the front of his mind. There was so much to explore here. He wanted to know every nook and cranny of this cursed place, however he was always terrified Christine might try to make her way down to their (their... haha, what a lovely pronoun, to be sure) home and not find him there, or worse get lost and end up in the hands of that elusive man she'd told him about. It was absurd how no one he wanted to find could be found in this manor when he was looking for them! It was as if the place itself swallowed them up just to keep them from meeting with him!
Or... perhaps they didn't care to meet with him. Of course that was a likely possibility. He was of course not a charming fellow, by any means. But he was... decent!
Oh for god's sakes, if he was to live in this place, he might as well start talking to people! Talking to Christine made him crave more people's company, and in this place it seemed they didn't find it so mysterious and strange that he wore a mask. He'd never let anyone look beneath it, but it was comforting to know that he could walk during the day without fear of being bothered.
After telling Meg to keep an eye out for Christine and leaving her to her own devices, Érik sauntered up the stairs, hoping to find food (god knows he hardly craved it, but he needed his sustenance for the day) and perhaps find the music room. He was sure this mansion would have one, in fact all great palaces do. Or perhaps he might find the theatre, tidy it up a bit. Yes, that's what he would do.
After finally finding the dining room and oddly... stocked kitchen, he ate whatever he could find (some sort of cracker called "Goldfish...?" Whatever they were, they were rather delicious. A nice kick to the palate, he'd say. There was also a bit of chicken he'd found in the strange icebox. Cold, but it would do), and then some wine and poured himself a glass.
Casually, he strolled and felt his way along the walls until he came to the large double doors he'd seen before as leading to the opera house.
However, there seemed to be a set of stairs nearby that would obviously lead to the balcony tiers and the boxes... Hmm, he wondered if he might just find what belonged to him up there.
He crept up the stairs, and as he moved through the passage ways to the boxes on the grand tier, he began to hear music. It was music he hadn't heard in ages! He finally found what he was looking for: Box Five.
Érik entered the familiar room with glee. When he opened the door, the music became louder. He swirled his wine glass and sipped it, curiously entering the room and closing the door. He pulled back the drape and saw the stage.
Box Five hadn't changed an inch. It was as if they'd replicated every single bit of his very own stage, the stage he'd practically built wit his bare hands. He couldn't bear to see it in ruins, however... It still seemed to be in use
He sat down and stared at the blonde... woman? What was she wearing? He hadn't seen clothes like that since... Well... Persia. Nor had he heard that music since Persia. He'd play for the shah things like that, and had even composed a few pieces in that style himself.
Upon looking closer he became somewhat... mesmerized. Her dancing... he hadn't seen a woman move like that in all his years, even during his stay in Persia. It was as if it was more than dancing. It was art.
He set his wine glass quietly on the balustrade, resting his hands on his legs. He could not take his eyes away from her. He felt his whole body tense, and for a moment... for a moment he even forgot who Christine was. The name... it was nagging at the back of his head.
But this woman... This woman who wore a mask.
She was interesting.
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Teressa Lavalais
Fine. You?re rehired. Now shut up or I will run you through.
Posts: 248
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Post by Teressa Lavalais on Jul 23, 2012 13:35:30 GMT -5
Teressa snaked her arms into the air, looking very much like an enticed cobra with the way she swayed her hips. Her clothes fit the dance perfectly, hugging her skin and shining sometimes in the light, but showing off how pale she truly was beneath. Twirling and falling into a split, she lifted her face to the lights, imagining....
She'd always wanted to perform. On the stage, in front of hundreds of people...But she couldn't. Not with the mask. Not with what was under it...No one had seen beneath her mask. NEVER. Well, besides Erik. And she was determined to keep it that way.
The record stopped, and she was brought out of her thoughts. She shook her head and stood, then started going through acrobatic tricks, one by one, making sure she could. Starting off easy, then getting into the hard stuff. Somersaults, handsprings, flips, kicks, everything she could think of.
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Erik Spectre
Don Juan Triumphant
One must get used to everything in life, even eternity...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Spectre on Aug 22, 2012 16:12:12 GMT -5
Mesmerized. Yes, that was most definitely the word one would use to describe what Érik felt at that precise moment. He couldn’t understand what possessed him to watch her. At the opera it was both entertainment and his job to watch the ballerina’s dance; after all, how could he possibly be expected to run the Garnier if he was unaware of it’s performer’s abilities? However they were mostly amusing to him. None- save for perhaps on occasion the prima ballerina La Sorelli- thoroughly impressed him. The younger ones tended to be like a flock of turkeys with excellent luck, and the older ones were peacocks, fanning their feathers and poking out their long necks to impress someone in the audience.
If this woman dancing before him could have been a part of the ballet... She might have been a bigger star than his Christine- yes that was Christine- might have been. The house would have put on more ballets, and perhaps would have hired more competent dancers. The operas themselves would improve, the managers might even listen to him for once... All would be thanks to this... magnificent creature.
Érik sat on the edge of his seat, pale yellow hands gripping the balustrade. When she stopped dancing he feared she might see him, but then she began to practice acrobatic tricks. This surprised him, as even La Sorelli could hardly be expected to perform such impressive feats of agility. She had the limbs and movements of an assassin, and this coupled with her choice of music and dress made him believe she did indeed come from Persia. And that... mask!
Sitting back, Érik furrowed his eyebrows and let go of the balustrade. He crossed his arms and thought for a moment. He had told himself before: no more hiding. Not when he was to be married and his love was a woman of the light. But you see, the shadows were second nature to him. He doubted they could ever part.
He could become the ghost of before, of course. That was his most practical possibility. For the time being his goals were to both improve this opera house and restore it to working condition, and to gather resources and plan a wedding between him and Christine... However, there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to possess the woman’s abilities. She would be brilliant one day, he was sure of it.
A smile crept along his lips.
When she'd paused to take a breath, he silently closed the drape of the box and threw his voice across the theatre, making it bounce between the boxes, over the seats and into the proscenium, his tone laced with satisfaction and amusement.
"Very good, mademoiselle."
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Teressa Lavalais
Fine. You?re rehired. Now shut up or I will run you through.
Posts: 248
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Post by Teressa Lavalais on Aug 22, 2012 21:54:40 GMT -5
Teressa jumped. A voice...a male voice...She fled, jumping into the orchestra pit so as not to be seen. She'd been so sure that there was no one in there!
"Who are you?! How much did you see?!" She shouted up to the house. Pressing her back to the wall, she closed her eyes for a second. She never let anyone watch her dance. She loved to dance, but she couldn't dance in front of an audience unless it was for pay or to save her own life...she was always too embarrassed. Embarrassed that she wouldn't be good enough, embarrassed that she wouldn't be liked.
Who was this stranger? This man she didn't even see when she'd retreated?...Yes, where was he?
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Erik Spectre
Don Juan Triumphant
One must get used to everything in life, even eternity...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Spectre on Aug 23, 2012 23:06:26 GMT -5
Oh, this was indeed going excellently. There was always a certain period where he did not know how a person would react to his booming voice and seeming invisibility, but she reacted exactly as he'd wanted. She had uncommon agility and fled immediately to the orchestra pit; an easily accessible area for him, to be sure.
"How much? Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" he laughed, standing up and pulling back the drape again silently so that he could see closer.
Unfortunately, the normally clever Érik hadn't thought that one through, for his hand knocked down the wine glass he'd forgotten he'd left on the balustrade. It tumbled over the railings and knocked against the faded gold of the box, finally shattering as it hit the boxes below. "MERDE! Abruti, connard!" he cursed in a loud whisper, stupidly attempting to catch the glass before it fell.
He knew that his cover was blown before he had to even look down at the orchestra pit. His brows furrowed and he growled in frustration. "Non!"
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Teressa Lavalais
Fine. You?re rehired. Now shut up or I will run you through.
Posts: 248
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Post by Teressa Lavalais on Aug 27, 2012 8:47:15 GMT -5
Teressa looked up at the man hanging out of the box for a split second before she quickly climbed out of the orchestra pit. The bastard had been hiding from her. But he’d just given himself away. She smirked. He had tried to mess with her, so she was going to mess with him. She bolted across the stage, and leapt at the decrepit ornate structure that was next to the box. She climbed up as fast as she could, leaping from statuette to statuette, from curling vine to cherub and finally to the edge of the box. Hoisting herself up, she flipped over the balcony and landed lightly on the balls of her feet, looking at the stranger. Except…it wasn’t a stranger…
“…Erik?” Teressa cocked her head. What the hell was he doing here, watching her practice? She thought he was in the greenhouse. But he’d cut his hair. And gotten shorter…NO. This wasn’t her Erik. This was the doppelganger he’d told her about, the person he kept getting mistaken for. Oh dear…this was the person that others described in such dislike…The little blonde girl that Erik had met and kept talking to had described him as a “demon”. Teressa backed off a little, placing her hand on the railing, a little unnerved. She knew that her slightly scared disposition was making itself quite obvious as she looked at the man…She didn’t know what to do; perhaps she should run? But…that would be quite counterproductive, and a little voice that sounded a lot like Erik’s annoyed voice sounded in the back of her head, telling her to stay…find out who this man was…perhaps talk to him?
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Erik Spectre
Don Juan Triumphant
One must get used to everything in life, even eternity...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Spectre on Nov 5, 2012 21:27:09 GMT -5
Érik wasn't particularly shocked that she had joined him in his box so quickly, judging from her previous agility in dance that he'd witnessed, but he did not expect her to know his name, nor for her to actually be frightened of him (as he had made an utter fool of himself just moments before). As it was, he stepped forward quickly, knowing he only momentarily had control of the situation. He smirked, resuming his previously devious disposition.
"Very good, Mademoiselle, very good," he began, steepling his hands at his chest. "'Érik' would be correct." He moved even closer, his grin growing wider. "And to who is 'Érik' addressing today? If you are privy to my name, then shouldn't I be privy to yours?" He tilted his head. "Hmmm?"
It was then, standing about a foot and a half away from her, that he realized that her mask was not merely for decoration. Besides her deep and unusual red eyes he detected traces of scarring underneath. This caused one of his hands to fall to his side, and the other raised to his mouth slightly, though hovering between his chest and his chin, waiting as if to reach out and touch. Of course he knew what it was like to live under a mask... And she was so beautiful, he couldn't imagine what lie beneath that she must conceal her face so.
But somehow, he did know. "I-I am sorry," he whispered, his hand outstretched only just slightly. But he pulled it back, for he knew how he would react if she pulled his mask from here. "Nevermind... Érik doesn't need to know your name."
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Teressa Lavalais
Fine. You?re rehired. Now shut up or I will run you through.
Posts: 248
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Post by Teressa Lavalais on Nov 6, 2012 12:31:19 GMT -5
Teressa furrowed her brow. He'd asked for his name, then told her he didn't need to know? Strange behaviour...She'd take this chance...to satiate her curiosity.
"Teressa Lavalais." Inhaling deeply, she drew up, trying to not look so nervous. She hated her nerves, they were always so obvious. Erik would chastise her for her posture and nerves whenever she was practising in front of him. He always told her that if she was ever to perform, she'd have to look the part as well. Slouching and shyness was not tolerable in a diva's world. And without a good presence, she would never get to that point.
The man had also reached out for her mask, but taken his hand away. Teressa smiled a little. He understood, then. To live behind a mask was to be living in a world of lies and pretend. To make-believe you are someone else for a little while, and to try to forget what you are beneath.
"...What is your business here?" Her voice was quiet, but understandable. Her nervousness was showing there...Damn...
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Erik Spectre
Don Juan Triumphant
One must get used to everything in life, even eternity...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Spectre on Nov 7, 2012 22:53:13 GMT -5
Érik's behavior was strange, even to him, but he'd never come across one such as himself before. And she was a woman... He was fascinated and nervous all at once. What he had to be nervous about, he didn't really know. He wanted to ask her questions about her scarring, but knew from his own past experiences how well other people's inquiries to him had gone, so he thought it best not to.
Before he could speak again, she gave him her name. Unusual... but he liked it. He also liked that she was still visibly scared of him, despite his softened mood. He smiled wickedly again and resumed his observations of her. She was very pale, with hair more blonde than even his fiancée's. He wondered absently if she could sing, but with her dancing skills it mattered little either way.
Her question was hardly demanding, but he found her words slightly rude. "My business is not yours," he said as he crossed his arms." He tilted his head slightly. "The real question is, what does it matter to you?" If he kept his head level and remained calm, the situation would be under his control, and he could easily gain whatever information from her that he wished. Though she had scaled the wall quite easily, this was his opera house, or at least a very good replication of it. No one knew it as well as he...
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Teressa Lavalais
Fine. You?re rehired. Now shut up or I will run you through.
Posts: 248
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Post by Teressa Lavalais on Dec 2, 2012 0:28:58 GMT -5
Teressa scoffed. This Erik was just like her own, in his way of speaking to her. What does it matter? What is your business? Why are you asking me that right now? BLAH BLAH BLAH. "I was only trying to be sociable...I thought perhaps you'd not be opposed to small talk or conversation. Was I wrong?" She straightened, pushing her hair behind her shoulders and out of her face.
She cocked her head in turn. He was taller than her. His hair was a little too shiny, really, and was probably a wig...If she could get a closer look, she'd be able to tell. And he had a more....European influence in his clothing style. It was very clean cut and straightforward. Her Erik was a bit more colourful in his clothing choice. To be sure, he still had his mostly black wardrobe, but it would be set off with a colourful vest of some sort, usually with a brocade pattern. But this one...this one was a little...well...uppity.
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Erik Spectre
Don Juan Triumphant
One must get used to everything in life, even eternity...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Spectre on Dec 10, 2012 20:02:33 GMT -5
Conversation? Érik had never really conversed with someone before, save for Marguerite's hardly stimulating dialogues. He supposed he could count teaching Christine, for often they would discuss her past, her family, music in general... But they were usually one sided conversations. He had been acting as her "Angel of Music," not as the man he was, who had thoughts and feelings like anyone else...
All other people he'd encountered in person had usually been afraid of him. He was used to this... But clearly, this woman also had the air of intimidation, for he was quite apprehensive of her.
Érik could lie and say he had no intention of making friends, like he'd told Christine... But the truth was he was intrigued by her mask. He wouldn't dare ask her about it, for he himself would tense at those who were curious about his. She was also an excellent dancer, however, and quite the acrobat. They appeared to have much in common, which is something he couldn't say for the rest of the human race...
However... Érik was conflicted. A normal, polite conversation was something he wasn't sure he could have. He looked down, rubbing his fingers with nervous character. "You wish to talk to Érik," he said. "No one wants to talk to Érik."
His yellow eyes, glowing dully in what shadow there was, searched for something to say, for that is how conversations begin. He opened his mouth several times, but words fled his tongue. A conversation with a human being... A woman, even. No woman had ever considered speaking civilly with him. This whole situation petrified him.
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Teressa Lavalais
Fine. You?re rehired. Now shut up or I will run you through.
Posts: 248
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Post by Teressa Lavalais on Dec 12, 2012 16:19:52 GMT -5
"Didn't I just say I wanted to talk to you?" Teressa smirked. "Perhaps I didn't word it correctly..." Smoothly, she found her way to one of the chairs in the box, then sat back in it, lounging. She brushed some of her flyaway hair back behind her ear, then looked up at the man expectantly.
"How long have you been here?" She smiled a little. Perhaps the smile would coax him out of his nervousness. He was betraying signs that he was nervous. Fiddling with his fingers, for one...did she scare the man? She didn't think she would, with what she'd heard from others about him. She expected quite the opposite.
She remembered her first encounter with Destler...She'd wandered down to his part of the underground...and he'd thrown daggers at her. GOD, that scared the life out of her. But then he came back, kissed her, professed feelings for her...So she really couldn't judge a book by its cover. Perhaps there was more behind this man than the rumours spread about him. Poor thing...
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Erik Spectre
Don Juan Triumphant
One must get used to everything in life, even eternity...
Posts: 87
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Post by Erik Spectre on May 9, 2013 5:28:38 GMT -5
"Perhaps I didn't word it correctly..."
Oh really? She didn't word it correctly? What an insufferable thing to say for a lady! Yes, he might have said such a thing, but a phrase like that denotes control of the situation. It was indecent of the fairer sex to have a leg up on any man... Who did she think she was?
Folding his arms across his chest, Érik grumbled slightly before he gave her an answer. "I've no idea. I don't keep track of time anymore." He turned and paced the opposite direction, toward the other wall. "Et toi? Your capture has been arduously long, I take it?"
After her being in control with the directed question at him, Érik had had enough. He turned sharply around and peered at her, leaning forward slightly. "How did you know my name?"
If she couldn't answer, it would most certainly mean she was hiding something. Either way, he was sure reasons were not altogether savory, at least.
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Teressa Lavalais
Fine. You?re rehired. Now shut up or I will run you through.
Posts: 248
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Post by Teressa Lavalais on May 9, 2013 15:40:45 GMT -5
Before Teressa could get an answer out to the man's previous question, he asked her a question that would be very hard for her to answer without giving away 'crucial information,' as Erik called it. Teressa knew that she would sound shady with ANY explanation she gave to the man. Should she go with the truth? Or lie, and say she'd heard of him. She really had just heard of him a couple of weeks ago...But she decided that the safest thing for her to do would be to respond with the truth.
"I...oh. Well, you see, I have a travelling companion who looks a rather lot like YOU and his name is..his name is Erik. You see, he arrived here before I did and I arrived a few months ago, and we've been travelling together for rather a long time..." Teressa's voice trailed off. She no longer had control over the situation. Her fight or flight instincts would kick in if the man turned on her, but she couldn't read his action. His movements were too fluid...right now, anyway.
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