Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-07-14 10:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, almalexia lliryn, arielle chiaro, rictor cassul |
What good is sitting alone in your room? Come hear the music play...
Who: Ari, Lex & Rictor
What: A visit backstage
Where: The Sphere
When: Today; after the matinee (likely around 4:30pm)
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
The show had gone off without a hitch, which considering just how drunk Fedoro was today was a minor miracle in Ari’s estimation. It was a bit of a relief when it was over; she had kept expecting him to topple over onto her any moment. Not to mention that kissing him was a trial, and gave credence to the idea that an actor’s existence was full of difficulties others only guessed at. Really, the man had the voice of an angel and the breath of a Malboro. Sometimes, life really wasn’t fair. After the show, she made her way through the habitual backstage chaos, hiking up her wide, striped skirt with both hands and ducking around harried tech workers and lounging cast members. The props master appeared to be having a meltdown over the quill she had bent in the letter scene – oops – and one of the costumers rushed by clutching the Count’s pants. She’d thought she’d heard a rip near the end. Best to stay away from Orrin, then; he probably dreamed of opportunities to corner her pantsless. She had her own dressing room, fortunately, next to Feria’s, which meant that she didn’t have to fight for a padded seat. In the small, brightly lit room, already crowded with flowers, she toed off her shoes, but despite the overwhelming urge to do so, did not begin with the painful and necessary task of removing her corset. She had visitors tonight, after all, and she had promised Rictor she’d be dressed. And it was a good thing, too, else Rictor’s nerves would have skyrocketed through the ceiling. They were already shot and frayed from an evening of trying to seem casual and natural in Lex’s presence, a couple hours of fidgeting in his suit and readjusting his cufflinks and shifting in his dress shoes. The sight of Rictor in formal attire was a foreign one, but he’d mitigated the damage somewhat by loosening his collar. This was an alien experience, the two of them (cathedral creatures in their own way) transplanted to the lavish surroundings of the Sphere. It was harder here, he found. The opera was an Affair, capital A. But at least there was Ari – Faram bless Arielle Chiaro, because she provided an excuse for them to be here. The pair sat in a semi-private box with only a couple other theatregoers, which allowed for whispered conversations and Lex snorting at Count Arbavive’s onstage antics. The moment the performance ended, Rictor immediately unpinned his cuffs and rolled up the sleeves, exposing his arms to the elbow. Much better. Jacket draped over one arm and his other hand resting against Lex’s shoulderblades, and then they were off, weaving their way through the hallways and towards the backstage and Ari’s dressing room. Getting to Ari's dressing room, however, proved to be its own challenge. Lex felt compelled at more than a single instance to turn away from the actors in various states of lounging and undress, eyes darting away whenever possible and trying not to linger on anything too long (save for that odd man who was shouting about the broken quill, of all things). If not for Rictor's hand resting on her back, she would've been tempted to use him as some sort of shield from this, well, was it really necessary to wander around so...indecently? Once the man without his pants came into view, it only took a moment for Lex to sprint down the nearest hallway. Fortunately, that is where the dressing rooms appeared to be. Aside from this embarrassing foray into the behind the scenes world of opera, however, the evening hadn't been so awful. It was true, she was a creature of the cathedral, so unused to formal engagements such as these, with men in their tidy suits (and Rictor seemed adequately dressed himself, she supposed, not that she was about to say as much), and women in their opulent gowns. Lex couldn't even compare herself to the noble women she saw scattered about the audience, bedecked in jewels and other high finery, but the semi-private box did allow for some reprieve. And now that Rictor seemed less preoccupied with his thoughts and cufflinks, Lex seemed to be able to focus much easier as well. She stood at the door marked with Ari's name, hand poised to knock. Looking up at Rictor, she was nearly tempted to offer a thank you, or some other gesture of gratitude, if not for escorting her to the opera, then certainly for being tall and broad enough to block her view of the pantsless actor if he tried to wander down the hall after them. "You know, I..." Ari hadn’t shut her door all the way, and through the crack heard what she thought was a familiar voice. “Why don’t you come in?” she called, before the knock could even sound. She stood from her seat, leaving the shoes behind, and took the three steps to the door to pull it open, just in case they were feeling shy. Well, Lex was actually shy, as far as she could tell. Rictor... well, she only hoped he didn’t choose to fill another silence by asking about Aspel again; she had had quite enough of that in their last encounter. Fortunately, she had kept him away from closing weekend. He cleaned up rather nicely, though, she had to admit, even with his shirt pushed up to his elbows and his jacket slung over his arm. Next to him, Lex in her her dark and nondescript dress looked rather nunnish. Her color seemed a bit high, but considering her usual haunts it was hardly surprising; this must all seem like so much debauchery to her, though whether she found it fascinating or scandalous was anyone’s guess. Behind them a pair of actresses walked by, giggling; Lyssa seemed to be down to corset and bloomers and not much else. Shame was a foreign concept back here. “I’m glad you took me up on my offer. I hope you enjoyed the show?” Ari stepped back, still smiling, allowing them room to file into the space if they so desired. Costume pieces were flung across a rack and myriad pots and tubes of cosmetics were scattered across the counter by the mirror. It was not a very large room, and not particularly neat, but there was space enough for three people to fit easily, even if there was only one chair. The room was a safe haven from the chaos unfolding outside – just as he’d predicted to the bard, Lex was far more affected by the thespians’ laissez faire wardrobe habits than he was. On their way in, Rictor’s eye had tended to linger on the women wandering past in various states of undress, but he managed to tear his gaze away before it lodged there. “It was fun,” he said with a smile, nudging the door shut behind them (some semblance of privacy, and more protection against errant passersby) and then leaned against it with his arms crossed. “I generally like comedies best, and this was a good one. You were great.” Ric was still taking in the room, curiosity leading to eyeing all the flotsam and jetsam of a theatrical life – so this was what everything looked like behind the scenes – but eventually redirected his attention, looking back at Lex to gauge her reaction. He’d tried not to look bemused when she went fleeing down the hall, suppressing a snicker the best he could. "It was very informative," Lex agreed. As restrained as her comment was, however, she could at least privately admit to enjoying herself – regardless of the errant actors in various states of undress wandering about outside. The color of her face eased with the door shut and Rictor propping himself usefully against it, although this too was its own sort of unusual situation. Lex crossed her arms, thoughtful. Here she was then, in the company of two people who...well, someone who she was slowly learning to enjoy the company of, and also Rictor, which allowed for several new feelings she couldn't immediately place. The details of the room made it obvious that she was now wholly outside her usual element, away from the rules and restrictions that continuously gave her pause. And yet... Well, what was she to do? Allowing Ari and Rictor to make conversation seemed the easiest bet and so, standing close to and slightly in front of her escort for the evening, Lex gave her attention to Ari and her room full of flowers and other clutter. “Thank you,” Ari said easily. “It may well be one of my favorite roles.” She had understudied it a few years back, before her career had really taken off, and she couldn’t deny that the opportunity to play it now, despite all of the troubles that had plagued these last few weeks of rehearsal, nearly made up for the many things which had gone wrong elsewhere in her life. “I like comedies, too, and it’s nice not to bemoan my sad, abandoned fate for once.” So many opera plots seemed to revolve around women unable to help themselves when one man or another decided to pack his things and leave. Utter rubbish, if only the music weren’t so beautiful. “Though I must admit to enjoying a good death scene,” she added. “Perhaps next time.” It would be some time before she was ready to take her next project - the pay from this one would carry her several months, and that was before any side jobs for Vivi or others. “Informative is an interesting word,” she mused; she could find few life lessons in this plot, other than perhaps the fact that men appeared to be blind and utterly daft as long as one wore the correct clothing, but if anyone could find academic merit in the shenanigans which had gone on onstage, she supposed Lex was that person. “How so? “Incidentally, I’m afraid I can’t offer you a seat, but I do have champagne,” which would go to waste otherwise as she was not allowed to drink it, “though any food we had back here has long-since been decimated. If you like, I can always take you on set, now that the curtain’s drawn, although,” a small, very amused smile, “I can’t make any promises regarding the behavior of my colleagues. Still, if you’re interested in how our decidedly mundane brand of magic happens...” She probably couldn’t climb the catwalks in this dress, but otherwise, she saw no reason not to offer a tour. “However, if Orrin – better known as Count Arbavive – comes near me, with or without his pants, I will shamelessly hide behind you, Rictor.” “Well, that’s what I’m here for. Knights make the best standing bodyguards, has no one mentioned that?” Rictor chuckled, a deep rumble of amusement thrumming through his chest. This was already going much better than the last time he’d seen Ari. They were back in their places and playing their customary roles: they knew what to do here. And then he paused. It was like a lightbulb had gone off in Rictor’s head, a dawning realisation breaking over him with mild horror. “Oh,” he said, and suddenly started rummaging inside his jacket with all the frenzy of someone who had forgotten something important. Finally, a little contrite, he withdrew a bedraggled and wilting pile of flowers from the pocket – perhaps it had been a small bouquet, once upon a time in its life – and held it out to Ari, the bulbs drooping. “Uh... that’s for you. I heard it’s customary. As congratulations. And champagne sounds like a good idea – we can grab some, drink it while we walk and take in the sights. And Lex can regale us with her commentary and analysis.” She found everything informative, or so it seemed. “After proper observation, perhaps,” Lex said, rolling her eyes and plucking a particularly sad-looking flower from the bunch (its stem nearly severed and its petals entirely crushed), holding it behind her back. It was, of course, ridiculous and in no way amusing, but at least it now looked slightly more appropriate as a gift. Were she ever to do this sort of thing again, however, Lex would remember to bring something herself. “A tour would indeed be welcome, and will no doubt,” she tilted her head back slightly as if caught in some private amusement, “inform me further.” As she expected, the others found conversation easily. It was a relief to be sure, and so Lex moved out of the way to allow Ari and Rictor to take the lead in this proposed venture of theirs. She almost smiled outright, but it was dashed quickly by the thought of how she herself would try to avoid the pantsless man if he came into sight once again. “Shall we then?” Ari had to cover her mouth with her hand to avoid a snort of laughter. The flowers were so... sad. Which, she supposed, was only to be expected when one used one’s pocket to transport a bouquet. She took the flowers, though, settling them after some thought into a vase with some of the ubiquitous roses always sent by less creative fans. She thought she might prefer Rictor’s sad, squished posies. “Thank you for the flowers,” she responded, her expression merry. “Champagne’s just under here.” Fortunately, she had done so much leaning over in the dress that she knew the seemingly skimpy bodice would keep her covered no matter how she moved in it. Bending, she pulled the bottle - still full - from the bucket under the counter. It had been a nice gesture from the direction, though considering Timur’s proclivities, perhaps not wise all the same. She had no doubt his bottle was empty by now. “I’ve a glass or two somewhere.” They didn’t match when she finally managed to track done two – one a proper champagne flute, the other a water glass – but they were adequate to drink from, so she filled them and offered them to her guests. “Take them along, but just don’t leave them on set, or I’ll never see them again,” she cautioned. “And now,” with a smile to Lex, “we shall indeed. Come along.” The hallway was still full of people, but no one paid them any mind as she led her visitors down the corridor which led to the wings. There were several pieces of furniture back here, as well as a few urns holding trees – used in the final garden scene. The tech crew had been busy, resetting for act one - Sorana and Fedoro’s bedroom was once again set onstage, the walls at odd angles and the stage floor rising upstage, with furniture queerly shaped so that it would present more correctly to those watching from the audience. Up close, though it would appear slightly misshapen - not to mention tilted. The lights were down, and it was quite warm behind the thick, red velvet curtain. The quiet indicated that most of the audience had already left the theater. Dark tape marked the stage’s surface here and there, where furniture would stand throughout the show, and under her bare feet, the floor was dusty, no matter how much sweeping the crew did. They paced across the stage as a motley trio, Rictor occasionally slowing down in order to sip some of his champagne. (He’d taken the water glass, of course.) The theatre itself was like a slumbering beast, all its noise and activity stilled, simply waiting to be woken up for the next performance and put through its paces. A few crew still milled about, scooping up fallen props and tossing them back into containers. Tape and scuff marks on the floor traced the path of various scene changes, and the assortment of painted backdrops looked like an enormous pack of cards on some sort of revolving arm. He was no machinist, but peering at it, Ric could almost see how the mechanism worked. He found the curiosity taking over and turning his interest almost academic as well: Rictor craned his neck back, looking up into the shadows. Ropes and lights criss-crossed above. They were the most plentiful electric lights he’d seen in a building in a while – the Cathedral erred predictably towards candles, lanterns, and magicite. “Huh,” Ric said. “Looks plenty different back here.” "Interesting." Lex seemed as similarly enamored by the set, her eyes drawn to every odd angle, her head tilted slightly, calculating the awkward slants by precise degrees as if by now it was merely instinct. Even here, she noted, everything could be efficiently broken down to numbers. There were many things indeed to observe, and Lex took in each detail with an attempted display of calm, her mind working furiously over each new point of interest. Lagging behind slightly because of this, Lex pretended to sip at her flute of champagne (disappointed, slightly, by the lack of food) and ducked around each member of the tech crew as they passed. Though they were preoccupied at the moment with their respective duties, she was very aware of every new and unfamiliar person as they continued on their tour. Whenever she thought attention might've been given to her, Lex's interest in the champagne grew slightly. Ari took a seat on the stiff and uncomfortable fainting couch with its unnecessarily rough fabric and massive and garish cabbage rose pattern. It looked quite quaint under the lights, she was certain. “Home sweet home away from home,” she proclaimed. The stage certainly felt that way to her, though she acknowledged that many people found it a very odd way to live. Noting Rictor’s interest in the catwalks and what hung from them, she commented, “We’ve a dozen machinists about at any given time – between the lights and the various other mechanisms, not to mention what little sound amplification this particular space needs, it is no wonder machinists are honorary bards.” And it was also why, on paper, the “Bards’ Guild” made such a beautiful cover. Entertainment required any number of unusual skills, and bards and their cohorts were quite skilled at pretending to be someone – or something – they were not. “Now then, I was promised commentary and analysis,” she added, her tone very gently teasing, as she gave a look to Lex. The young woman had said little, but the thoughtful interest on her face was obvious. “Do share, while we have a few moments of relative peace.” Someone would be along sooner or later; it took hours after a show for the backstage area to empty entirely. “I do fear one of the costumers will come hunting me sometime or other, and he or she will insist on unpinning me from this awkward thing here and now with or without spectators.” She gave Rictor an amused look; she had promised to be dressed, but she hadn’t said anything about remaining that way. The fact that the fussy undergarments of centuries past mostly covered more than her everyday clothes would likely not even enter into his mind. Perhaps teasing him wasn’t in her best interest – considering how the conversation had gone last time – but it was nearly impossible to resist the impulse. “Our time, thus, is somewhat limited.” Lex held the flute of champagne in both hands, her slim fingers tapping lightly on the glass as Ari began to tease Rictor about the possibility of being undressed in front of them, taking obvious note of it. She looked down and swirled the drink slightly, thoughtful, before responding. If commentary was what they truly wished, she supposed with some hesitance, it was likely their due in this circumstance. "While I have no comment on the subject matter of the opera itself," she began, giving a look over her shoulder to...something, "I believe the majority of the performances were quite commendable. It's certainly much more intriguing than what I had previously imagined, even behind the scenes." She took a very small sip of her drink at last, wondering if the answer would suffice to sate their curiosity. Aside from small, critical examinations of trivial details, this setting was entirely suited to Ari, as the library had been hers during their previous encounter. Lex was only a grateful visitor and she attempted, with much internal effort, to try and appear as such. It was odd how much difference mere setting could make – remove someone from their regular haunts, and they became tourists. Extract Rictor from his suit of armour and then he was all fidgety restlessness, a wolfhound cooped up in too-small quarters and aching for the outdoors. He may love the theatre, but its trappings and formalities were another thing entirely. Then, as if they’d heard Ari from across the Sphere and been summoned by happenstance itself, a pair of people came sauntering up to them. It looked like the infamous Orrin (he’d managed to find an intact pair of trousers), accompanied by the exact frazzled costumer who’d dealt with his wardrobe emergency earlier. “There you are!” he crowed, and Rictor shifted in his too-tight dress shoes. The other man hiccoughed, eyeing the bottle of champagne they’d dragged along: “Have you been holding out on us? I thought the champagne ought to go to the star of the show.” The actor preened. The costumer, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. “Arielle, let’s to business. We need to get your dress pressed overnight before anything else happens. I’ve no desire to sit here overnight sewing.” While the costumer held out her hand, expectantly, Ric took an unconscious step closer to the mage and shot a bemused look at Ari. “You jinxed it,” he said, which then drew the makeshift count’s attention. Orrin eyed them in turn. “Who are these two, then?” Ari didn’t have the opportunity to respond to Lex’s commentary; as though she had summoned them with her teasing words, her colleagues appeared. “My newest lovers, naturally,” she responded immediately, her expression carefully bland. She was not terribly fond of Orrin, but she wasn’t planning on squabbling with him in front of company. One kept one’s family drama away from the neighbors’ eyes, after all. Better all around to make light commentary... and hope that he would be similarly interested in keeping the peace – and his dignity – intact. “Really, darling, you are far more diligent than I am about remaining in character; the curtain is down now, no need to be jealous of the company I keep.” She fluttered her lashes at him. “I’m certain Rictor will be more than glad to share the champagne.” She gave the costumer a look which quite clearly said, Really, now? – cast and crew were quite aware of Orrin and his penchant for unwanted advances – but the woman seemed far too frazzled to be fussed with something so insignificant as Ari’s comfort, so with a sigh the bard stood from her perch on the fainting couch and turned her back on her colleagues. The back of the dress had about a hundred tiny buttons; she could hardly manage to get out of it on her own. Immediately, she felt hands tackling them with sure efficiency, which at least meant Orrin hadn’t gotten it into his mind to “help.” She offered her visitors a tiny shrug and a crooked, apologetic half-smile. “It was only a matter of time, really,” she told them. Business was business, after all, and the clinical business of the stage meant wardrobe changes. The knights’ equivalent would be shucking their plate armour after a battle, cleaning the blood from the metal, and oiling it so it would not rust. It had to be done. This was the same. ...Sort of. “Presumably we should’ve waited a tad and let you get all this done before dragging you all over the theatre,” Rictor said, bemused. He refilled his glass before handing the bottle over to the drunken not-count, who gave a dramatic flourish of a bow in thanks. Then, appropriately armed with another glass of champagne, he risked looking at the blonde beside him. ‘You alright?’ he mouthed at Lex. In another, better instance, Lex would've returned that small gesture of concern with a scathing comment in the name of her pride. But once the party had been interrupted, it only took a single, cautionary pause before she had tilted her head back and drank the rest of the champagne in her hand. Thankfully that rude, dreadful performer had reappeared before them in an adequate pair of pants, but with Ari's wardrobe situation presented in tandem, there was little for Lex to do but feel flustered. Her cheeks were flushed again by the time Rictor looked over, and she returned his gaze for a long moment as if undecided on an answer, her eyes searching. Momentarily out of sorts and devoid of her usual, dismissive response, Lex smiled weakly before forcing herself to turn away. Her gaze carefully away from both Rictor and Ari this time, both for very different reasons, Lex took a deep breath and once again tried to regain her composure. Certainly, she thought, this would all cause her trouble later. "Perhaps," she said, hoping that the word sounded bland. "We might be interrupting." “You aren’t,” Ari assured her, even as the last of the buttons came undone. Knowing what was expected of her, she slipped off the sleeves, lifted her arms out of the way so that the dress could be peeled off and pulled over her head with a rustle of the attached crinoline. The boned corset and lace-edged bloomers underneath did not leave her much less decency. She looked over her shoulder at the costumer, asked, “I trust I am excused?” These costume pieces didn’t need quite the attention required by the dress, and she would leave them in her dressing room overnight. “What’s your hurry? Stay awhile,” Orrin said with a look that bordered on a leer. He took a swig of champagne directly from the bottle, and Ari gave him a bemused look and shook her head. So many reasons to follow her old master’s advice and never drink on the job. She found new ones all the time. “We’d prefer some privacy for our inevitable debauchery, darling,” she told him. “Enjoy the rest of the champagne.” Rictor, at least, seemed to be getting a kick out of this, if his barely repressed laugh was any indication. Ari grabbed both him and Lex by the arm and pulled them towards the wings, her grip quite insistent. “Until next time!” she called out over her shoulder. Then, once they were out of earshot, she quietly added, “I did say I would hide behind you.” Even if it hadn’t been in the way he had most likely anticipated. The bard latched onto them like a lynchpin in the middle and they found themselves being steered off, Rictor looming at the end of the line with the smaller women in a chain beside him. They left behind their bottle, a bribe of sorts to keep the rake at bay. “Let me get a robe and some shoes,” Ari was saying, and Rictor found himself nodding along. His adventures normally consisted of blood and gore and monster guts – so this was certainly different, but it felt like an Adventure and oddly entertaining nonetheless. The unfamiliar, the ridiculous, the alien. “Sounds good,” he said, draining the rest of his glass with his spare hand, the the one not currently being used to drag him across the darkened stage and hallways of the Sphere. He reminded himself to ask Lex about her more detailed impressions later, when she wasn’t hiding behind that fluted glass or retreating into terse responses. And perhaps he’d have to ask Aspel, finally, about this diverting singer she’d taken up with. Informative indeed. |