Post by Meg "Oh! La La" Giry on Jan 13, 2012 17:47:54 GMT -5
MEG "OH! LA LA" GIRY
"Diamonds never sparkle bright, if they aren't set just right"
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Player Name: Leffie
Years Roleplaying: About 2 or so.
Gender: I'm a chick. :3
Contact me: PM, Skype (lefantomeromance), MSN (ramengurl@yahoo.com)
Anything else?: Sing it with me now..... BATHING BEAUTY ON A BEACH! BATHING BEAUTY, SAY HELLO TO MEG!
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Basic Information
Age: 26
Canon or OC?: Love Never Dies[/size]
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Appearance
Body type: Curvy, but thin; a dancer's body.
Eye color: Bright Blue
Wardrobe: Meg's wardrobe consists of mostly dark colors, such as purples, deep reds, and blacks. Her outfits ar slightly scandalous for her time, but she gets away with it by being a vaudville (*coughcoughcourtesancoughcough*) act. Usually, however, she'll strut around in a performance outfit, covered up by a shawl or robe.
General Appearance: Meg was once a sweet looking girl in the corps de ballet at the Paris Opera, but New York's harsh streets have transformed her. Now she is a wild woman, her hair often ratty, unkempt, or wet from her swimming adventures when she's on her own. It's golden blonde tresses cascade down to the small of her back, and her blue, almond shaped eyes dart this way and that in search of predators that may be crawling about the slimey streets of NYC. Her eyes are knowing, and though her features are often set like the'yre glad to see you, it is all an act, like her show. SHe keeps her face gleeful to attract potential customers, but the more perceptive people can tell it's false. She moves her body almost like a snake when not performing, slinking in and out of a space with ease and silence.
Played By: Summer Strallen
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Personality
Since she's lived in NYC, Meg has developed the kind of cutthroat attitude that many New Yorkers share. Her constant need to be in the limelight stems from years being under appreciated in the corps de ballet and from her mother's unneeded encouragement that she's better than everyone else. Meg takes her words to heart, so she has a bit of a superiority complex, and if anyone better than her enters the scene, she will feel immensely threatened. She will do all she can to displace them, often on her mother's orders.
Socially, Meg is a butterfly, and those more dimwitted folk will like her almost immediately. She'll appear flowery and jittery, and she's very clever and funny, normally. She has a rather dark and sarcastically morbid sense of humor, however, characterized by her disdain for the scum and way of life around NYC. She doesn't like it there, and longs for the Paris she once knew, but it has nevertheless hardened her.
There is one bright spot, however, that makes her get up in the morning. Being the only other person she knew besides her mother, she clung rather unthinkingly to the man once known as the Phantom of the Opera, the man who had forced her upheaval from her happy life in first place. She initially resented him for this, but as she got to know the man she once feared, she began to respect him, and now adores him more than anything in the world. She will do anything to get his attention, and her wild antics are often attempts to do so. Everything she says, thinks, or does always has him in mind. This makes her love for him a major weakness, especially since he hardly notices her at all.
One could say that Meg also has a bit of a colorful past. She has become skilled in the art of deception ("You can't get by in this town without fibbing one way or another," she says), and is known around the more grimey circles as the resident slut. In order to pay her, her mother, and her master's way in the world, she had thought it best to sleep around, especially with those with major cash. After all, she discovered she was pretty good at seducing people. She's well experienced in this respect, and won't be afraid to show it to those she deems worthy (with money), or to anyone else who has something she wants. Meg also has a suicidal streak, which her mother hardly ever notices. She could be equated to an "emo" kid, marginally, by today's standards, but that might be a little harsh. After all, she's the "Oh! La La Girl!" Just keep smiling...
Dreams and Goals: Short term goals: to be the greatest act on Coney Island; win Mister Y's favor. Long term goals: Mister Y loving her back, marrying her, having children with her, dying with her... She's a little in love, alright? *shifty eyes*
Strengths: Great dancer, would have made Prima Ballerina had she stayed at the opera; pretty good singer; good at lying; sense of humour; very very loyal; skilled in the art of seduction.
Weaknesses: Mister Y; cynicist; morbid; suicidal; obsessive; Mister Y; often jealous of people; vengeful; overly dramatic; MISTER Y!
Fears: Losing Mister Y's favor; being forgotten; breaking her legs so she can never dance again; Mister Y dying; Losing Mister Y to Christine.
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The Past
People she knows:
- Her mother, Madame Giry, a former ballet instructor, now her producer and manager. Meg loves her mother dearly, and does everything she asks (demands).
- Mister Y/the Master/the Phantom is the object of her affections. She never ceases to try and impress him with her dancing, singing, and elaborate costumes, and she’s never stopped funding his escapeds with prostitution and her dancing.
- Vicomtess Christine de Chagny (Christine Daaé) is her oldest childhood friend. She once missed her, but now that Mister Y is obsessed once again, she is very jealous of her, however secretly she still loves her as a sister deeply.
- Vicomte Raoul de Chagny, whom once she tried to help defeat the Phantom of the Opera, but now she’ll do all she can to get him away from her Master.
History: Meg Giry was born in Paris to her mother Madame Giry. She was taught from a young age how to dance, her mother being the ballet Mistress at the glorious Palais Garnier. She entered young into the corps de ballet, and soon met the beautiful Christine Daaé, an orphan under Mme. Giry's care. The two became fast friends, near sisters at that.
Eventually rumors began circulating about a mysterious figure known as the Phantom of the Opera, and Meg, like all the other ballerinas, was scared and fascinated all at once. Being a particularly unsuperstitious girl, she surprisingly worried about the sanity of her friend Christine, who had begun acting strange almost at the same time the Phantom showed up. Finally, with Christine's triumphant debut in Hannibal, she found out the cause of this was Christine's so called "Angel of Music." She hardly believed an angel visited the girl, so she was highly disturbed that her naive friend could think so.
Soon it seemed the Phantom began taking advantage of Christine and her love for her angel. Meg was powerless to do anything, save for helping the Vicomte de Changy, Christine's sweetheart, to get to the bottom of the fiasco. A few months after the Phantom dropped the chandelier at the performance of Il Muto, the ghost crashed the New Year's Masquerade ball, and demanded the company perform his opera with Christine as the star. It was the first time she saw the Phantom, and even she couldn't help but be drawn to the allure of his voice and commanding presence. However, she vowed to find him eventually and get back at him for putting his spell over her dear, innocent friend.
Meg was casted as a prostitute in Don Juan Triumphant, a role she would later play in real life. She played her part like everyone else, but when the Phantom kidnapped Christine, she was the first to organize a mob to find her friend. When she got to the Phantom's lair, however, the place was deserted, save for the lonely ghost's mask. She was afraid he'd taken Christine, but was later reassured that she was safely in the arms of her dear Raoul, and Meg breathed easy.
When she emerged from the depths of the cellars, her mother pulled her aside and forced her to pack. Meg was startled, but she did as she was told. They fled the opera, Meg unknowing that it would be the last time she saw it. She was taken by her mother just outside Paris to a small campfire in the forest. Out of the trees came the Phantom, and Meg very nearly yelled for the police. Her mother quieted her, however, and Mme Giry explained how she felt indebted to the man, who had always been kind to the both of them, such as how he arranged Meg to be promoted in the ballet and to see that Madame Giry's salary was raised. He was just thoroughly misguided and lonely.
Meg agreed to leave with them, for she couldn't part with her mother for the world, even though she had trouble trusting her after finding out how she'd been helping the Phantom all those years. She stayed mostly away from him during the voyage to the America, the only safe place they could think of. The man was grieving for his lost love, and it was best not to disturb him, Meg's mother said. The girl realized that he truly had loved Christine, even if his view of love was skewed and twisted. Perhaps she had been too quick to judge him after being terrorized by rumors of him at the opera house. They probably weren't even all true, she convinced herself. Throughout the voyage, however, she stuck to her mother's side and did her best to learn as much English as possible before they reached their destination.
They arrived in New York City, the place of dreams. It was a new and disturbing place for all three of them, its rough and tumble ways forcing them almost immediately into destitution. Though Ellis Island welcome immigrants, the Americans did not, especially the French. Without anything else to do and his muse for melodies dried and decayed after his broken heart, the Phantom turned to a sideshow, and joined as magician/singer/ventriloquist, his act varying every day. Meg joined this act as his assistant and a dancer, and she was of course favored over the Phantom's mysterious face. She still lacked the English skills that would let her apply for practical work, so her mother worked odd, normal jobs in order to support them both. Being the only person she knew when her mother was away, and the only person she could even talk to, she clung to the Phantom and decided she might as well get to know him.
The Phantom, having nothing else to do but feel depressed and lonely, humored her and let her get to know him, something he never would have dreamed to do with anyone before. In return, she told him about Christine and all the things he missed in the woman's life, though Meg always thought it odd that his eyes would glaze over as she spoke of her lost friend. He told her about his travels, and he showed her his illusions, ventriloquy, and taught her how to do many of them herself. She began to admire him for his talents, and found his sudden softspoken nature after being both rejected and redeemed by Christine at the same time very endearing. He was the only thing that reminded her of home anymore, her mother already settled into the hard shell of the Yankee disposition. In this respect, he became her only friend, and she indeed his.
Eventually Meg learned English fluently, and by then she had already been integrated into NYC's social circles, as both an honorary American and a French commodity. Over time she became more bombastic and outspoken, and thought that would put some sort of smile on the Phantom's face. If she was happy, maybe he would be happy? She didn't know, but she just wanted to keep smiling at everyone, as she always has. Her beauty and matured body of course enticed the men of NYC, so as she became more and more able to fend for herself in the world, she started working for bars and clubs where she'd dance scandalously for money. She learned of vaudeville and how provocative it was, but she saw how much money it could make, so she went to the Phantom for help (not liking the seedy bars at all). Her mother had always wanted her to become a star, like she promised her long ago, but she could not write music. Meg convinced the Phantom to write songs for her to perform, and suddenly Meg finally fell into routine with this new makeshift family of hers.
As the Phantom and Meg's acts grew in popularity, they were given the affectionate names of "Mister Y" (a play on the word "mystery" given to him by a rather stupid reporter who didn't realize the name "Mister E" would have worked better) and the very French fetish-like name of "The Oh! La La Girl." Soon they heard of a new amusement park island being built that would be called "Coney Island," and all three of them thought that would be the perfect place to expand their acts. With the money he and the girys had earned from their acts (and Meg's prostitution, unbeknownst to both Mme Giry and the Phantom) he bought the sideshow he worked at out from under the bankrupt owners. He moved it to the Island and he became an overnight sensation, with Meg as his theme park's leading star.
As the Phantom, whom the Girys began to call master as his power over them grew, became distant and distraught over his longing for Christine and being busy do to his duties running Phantasma, Meg worked even harder to gain his attention, and to rekindle their former makeshift friendship. But things had changed over the years, and as the Phantom became Mister Y, Meg did indeed become the Oh! La La girl, in every sense of the phrase. They had grown apart, with Meg only realizing too late that what she had once felt for him was love, and no sooner than that did she fall for him all over again. She plotted to stand in his favor, and perhaps even win his heart over her former friend Christine, whom she now possibly loathed for his love for her. However, nothing she did seemed to garner his praise, just mediocre approval, which was all he could speak anymore. Mister Y continued to write cheap vaudeville trash for Meg to sing, and she was angry he didn't trust her enough to give her real music to perform. She kept trying to improve her act to make it classy, but fun, tired of always having to fun the man she loved in an unclean way.
One day, during the middle of the season in 1907 (ten years after she, her mother and the Master fled Paris), as she was practicing a new number for the end of the season two familiar faces rolled into town. Her former best friend and the object of her love's affections, Christine Daaé, and her husband Raoul had once again come into their lives, bringing with them their ten year old son Gustave. She was surprised to see Christine, and eventually furious when she realized it could only have been the Master who had hired her to sing at Phantasma. It became worse when she overheard a conversation between him and Christine. Gustave was their son!
This couldn't happen. No, the de Chagnys had to leave New York City before it was too late, and Christine was wrapped inside her Angel's webs again. Meg should have been the one wrapped up in Mister Y's dreams! It would all be gone if Christine chose to be with him, everything she and her mother had worked so hard for. The child had sealed the deal, but if she could just get them to leave as soon as possible, before Christine's performance, she might have a fighting chance. She sought out Raoul, drunk off his arse in one of her favorite bars on Suicide Hall, after one of her early morning swims, and persuaded him to take the tickets for the three of the royals on the next ship out of NY harbor. After her spectacular number "Bathing Beauty" that afternoon, she waited backstage to see if Christine would leave. She heard Raoul and the Master discussing the bet they had made, and she couldn't take it, knowing she might very well sing and stay with him. She ran back to her dressing room as the orchestra began to play, not wanting to see her sing if she did indeed stay. While in the dressing room, as Christine's cue began to play, Meg couldn't take it. She took a candlestick from her vanity and smashed the mirror into a million pieces, uncaring of the scratches and scrapes her body would undertake.
Before she could hear one note, one sign that Christine had or hadn't started singing, Meg was thrown this way and that in her mind, and suddenly she fainted. She seemed to have been transported through the broken mirror and into a strange place, known only as the Phantom Manor. She woke up here, and is now extremely desperate to get back to see the outcome of Christine's performance.
RP Sample
The candlelight flickered on the nightstand. It was quiet. There was no moon that night. Only the candle, shining bright.
Meg lay awake, her sharp eyes focused on the candle. Or was her gaze farther, more on the picture that the candle illuminated? Yes, it was the picture, come to find out. It was in an oval frame, decadent just like him. Gold and silver frame, black and white photo. She was in it too. She'd begged him for this picture, thankful her mother didn't want to be in it. It was the grand opening of Phantasma, before all the people arrived. She stood there next to him, under the large sign, wishing to hold his hand but happy his arm was around her. She had beautiful teeth, so she was not afraid to smile like they tell you not too. How could she not? She was happy and filled with gaiety. Was that a hint of a smile she detected as well on his lips? It was tugging at the visible corner of his mouth. By jove, it was! A smile!
Meg giggled and rubbed her nose. It was one of the few smiles she'd seen him give. And it was only for her. She stroked her hair, imagining that it was he who grazed his fingers through her golden locks. Christine had been so very wrong in giving him up. It was no matter, because she had him all to herself now, even if he was busy. She had done so very much for him, so surely that must have meant something.
"Master... I wonder what your real name is. Surely you have one," she began. "It must be buried so deep inside you, all these years going by so many different things."
The Phantom of the Opera...
Meg jerked at the whisper in her ear, the memory of his sad fate lingering in her mind. "He's not like that anymore... He's so very kind to me, and to mother." She sighed. To think she was once afraid of him, terrified that he'd drag her down to hell with him. Now heaven was their only destination.
Suddenly, the door to her room opened, and her roomate Peggy came rushing in, jumping on Meg's bed and giggling up a storm. "Meg, Meg! He's here, he's here!"
Tired but unable to sleep, Meg rubbed her eyes and began to sit up, yawning. She pushed the brunette off of her and braced the excited girl's shoulders. "Who's here, Peg?"
"The Boss! It's the Boss! He's here to see you!"
Meg's eyes were as round as saucers. "W-What?! What's he doing here!" Now she was frantic, now she was miserable trying to impress him. She wretched herself out of bed and threw on her silk dressing gown, tying the sash quickly and fluffing her hair in the mirror. She wiped the exhaustion from her eyes with a quick smile and a facial exercise, and dabbed perfume onto her breasts.
"I dunno! He's still walking up the stairs, I saw him on my way back from Lloyd's across the hall! But he can't be here to see me, he hardly knows me! He HAS to be here to see you, Meg!" Peggy couldn't stop giggling, so Meg, powdering her nose from her compact, glared at her.
"Shhh! You want him to hear you or what?"
Peggy shook her head, ashamed.
"Then shut your trap!" The compact snapped closed and she flung it quickly down on the vanity.
Meg rushed out of the room, then quickly collected herself as she walked through the sitting room and to the apartment door. It was scandalous for two women to be sharing rent together, but then again, she lived in the slums of New York, so people hardly cared.
There was the knock! It was him! She fluttered, her heart pounding and her smile spreading throughout her whole features. "Coming, coming!" she called, pretending to be unawares it was him. She opened the door.
"Master! What are you doing here?" Her brows furrowed, but she hardly cared what he was doing there, only that he was there.
Mister Y was dressed casually, a bowler hat on his head and his mask a darker one more suited for the night. He looked worn out and listless, his hands clutching a musical score like it was his lifeline. "Bonsoir, Marguerite," he said in perfect French. He always spoke in French to her or her mother when he wanted no one else to hear what he was saying. "Forgive me for this late hour and my impropriety, but I'm afraid it was urgent."
She shook her head. "No--no trouble at all, sir! What can I do for you?" She covered her chest slightly as if she was modest. Ha!
He fiddled with his fingers, looking down at the score and clearing his throat. "I've just finished composing this song, and I was hoping I could get it to you before your mother got to it. She always likes to change my music before it reaches you, and I'd rather her not this time." He held said music out for her to take.
Meg looked down at it and grinned. She took it gladly, so very happy that he thought of her first, before her mother or anyone else. "Of course, Master. I'd be glad to look at it. Say, you wanna come in? I hear its freezing out there." Clever ploy, Meg, clever game.
The man shook his head quickly, taking his hand from his head and bowing slightly. "No, I should go, I should never have disturbed you. I... I will see you tomorrow morning, eight o'clock sharp to run the song."
Meg nodded, disappointed, preparing to close the door in sadness. "Yes, of course Master."
He nodded back. "Bon nuit, Mademoiselle."
The door clicked shut, and Meg clutched the music to her chest, her forehead pressed against the wood.
"So...? What'd he say?!" Peggy exclaimed from behind her.
"He said..." she began, smiling softly and sighing. Even though he wouldn't come in, just the fact that he thought of her like this brought tears to the woman's eyes. "He said, Peggy... He said..."
... Bon nuit, Mademoiselle.
Meg lay awake, her sharp eyes focused on the candle. Or was her gaze farther, more on the picture that the candle illuminated? Yes, it was the picture, come to find out. It was in an oval frame, decadent just like him. Gold and silver frame, black and white photo. She was in it too. She'd begged him for this picture, thankful her mother didn't want to be in it. It was the grand opening of Phantasma, before all the people arrived. She stood there next to him, under the large sign, wishing to hold his hand but happy his arm was around her. She had beautiful teeth, so she was not afraid to smile like they tell you not too. How could she not? She was happy and filled with gaiety. Was that a hint of a smile she detected as well on his lips? It was tugging at the visible corner of his mouth. By jove, it was! A smile!
Meg giggled and rubbed her nose. It was one of the few smiles she'd seen him give. And it was only for her. She stroked her hair, imagining that it was he who grazed his fingers through her golden locks. Christine had been so very wrong in giving him up. It was no matter, because she had him all to herself now, even if he was busy. She had done so very much for him, so surely that must have meant something.
"Master... I wonder what your real name is. Surely you have one," she began. "It must be buried so deep inside you, all these years going by so many different things."
The Phantom of the Opera...
Meg jerked at the whisper in her ear, the memory of his sad fate lingering in her mind. "He's not like that anymore... He's so very kind to me, and to mother." She sighed. To think she was once afraid of him, terrified that he'd drag her down to hell with him. Now heaven was their only destination.
Suddenly, the door to her room opened, and her roomate Peggy came rushing in, jumping on Meg's bed and giggling up a storm. "Meg, Meg! He's here, he's here!"
Tired but unable to sleep, Meg rubbed her eyes and began to sit up, yawning. She pushed the brunette off of her and braced the excited girl's shoulders. "Who's here, Peg?"
"The Boss! It's the Boss! He's here to see you!"
Meg's eyes were as round as saucers. "W-What?! What's he doing here!" Now she was frantic, now she was miserable trying to impress him. She wretched herself out of bed and threw on her silk dressing gown, tying the sash quickly and fluffing her hair in the mirror. She wiped the exhaustion from her eyes with a quick smile and a facial exercise, and dabbed perfume onto her breasts.
"I dunno! He's still walking up the stairs, I saw him on my way back from Lloyd's across the hall! But he can't be here to see me, he hardly knows me! He HAS to be here to see you, Meg!" Peggy couldn't stop giggling, so Meg, powdering her nose from her compact, glared at her.
"Shhh! You want him to hear you or what?"
Peggy shook her head, ashamed.
"Then shut your trap!" The compact snapped closed and she flung it quickly down on the vanity.
Meg rushed out of the room, then quickly collected herself as she walked through the sitting room and to the apartment door. It was scandalous for two women to be sharing rent together, but then again, she lived in the slums of New York, so people hardly cared.
There was the knock! It was him! She fluttered, her heart pounding and her smile spreading throughout her whole features. "Coming, coming!" she called, pretending to be unawares it was him. She opened the door.
"Master! What are you doing here?" Her brows furrowed, but she hardly cared what he was doing there, only that he was there.
Mister Y was dressed casually, a bowler hat on his head and his mask a darker one more suited for the night. He looked worn out and listless, his hands clutching a musical score like it was his lifeline. "Bonsoir, Marguerite," he said in perfect French. He always spoke in French to her or her mother when he wanted no one else to hear what he was saying. "Forgive me for this late hour and my impropriety, but I'm afraid it was urgent."
She shook her head. "No--no trouble at all, sir! What can I do for you?" She covered her chest slightly as if she was modest. Ha!
He fiddled with his fingers, looking down at the score and clearing his throat. "I've just finished composing this song, and I was hoping I could get it to you before your mother got to it. She always likes to change my music before it reaches you, and I'd rather her not this time." He held said music out for her to take.
Meg looked down at it and grinned. She took it gladly, so very happy that he thought of her first, before her mother or anyone else. "Of course, Master. I'd be glad to look at it. Say, you wanna come in? I hear its freezing out there." Clever ploy, Meg, clever game.
The man shook his head quickly, taking his hand from his head and bowing slightly. "No, I should go, I should never have disturbed you. I... I will see you tomorrow morning, eight o'clock sharp to run the song."
Meg nodded, disappointed, preparing to close the door in sadness. "Yes, of course Master."
He nodded back. "Bon nuit, Mademoiselle."
The door clicked shut, and Meg clutched the music to her chest, her forehead pressed against the wood.
"So...? What'd he say?!" Peggy exclaimed from behind her.
"He said..." she began, smiling softly and sighing. Even though he wouldn't come in, just the fact that he thought of her like this brought tears to the woman's eyes. "He said, Peggy... He said..."
... Bon nuit, Mademoiselle.
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