Danse Macabre: Paris
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Resin for the shoe and Dancing for the soul; open to all
Topic Started: Friday, 20. June 2008, 02:49 (123 Views)
Natalia Adams
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lost dancer
*
Her muscles quivered in anticipation, the first performance of a charity event that was going to spread over 4 days. She had been loaned from the Royal Ballet in London as a soloist, a great honour for her age and the first true sign that she had been noticed by the choreographers and directors of some of the most exulted companies in Europe. It was her favourite ballet Giselle and though only one act of it, the piece she was to do was one that evoked emotion in the dancers and the audience if performed well. And how she had practised, her stamina had been unwavering since her arrival in Paris with practise spanning some eight hours each day hampered only by her initial difficulty in the language barrier.

As with all of her studying however she was a fast learner and her ground in the basics of the language had held her in good stead until after just two weeks she could hold simple conversations with the other performers and understood the demands of the choreographer much to his delight. The others around her had been as helpful as they could, many of them speaking English and delighting in an opportunity to practise it with her. She had been polite in her refusal of their offers to show her around the city, preferring to save such things until the distraction of the event was over and she would not be risking her position in silly mistakes and drunken escapades. She was not a fan of such things at the best of times but they had accepted her declines in good grace and the mens attentions had drifted back to the professional.

The tutu they had fitted her into was a delightful frosting of white with sparkling gems that made her look as if she were dusted with frost and snow. The warm up completed she waited in the wings for the opening chords of the orchestra to cue her entrance. She had taken the opportunity to glance into the auditorium though it had done nothing to quell her nerves as the seats were all full, dignitaries and the richest of the city had paid well to see the montage of acts and ballets selected for their pleasure. This was but one part of this for she knew that after the lights were up there were a number that had paid extra for the privilege of attending a party of sorts to meet the dancers, dressed in their finery and ready to entertain with their anecdotes and company.

The warmth of the music flowed over her as she stepped into the spot light and in a smooth motion rose en pointe, her arms crossed and began her flowing dance. Motion after motion, spinning across the stage in a flurry of despair and loss, her love gone and her life soon to be over. She was the part, each movement was an expression of the music and visa versa. Until it was over, her love found her as she dropped to the stage her life gone and the audience erupted into their applause. Everything that it had taken and the moment was gone, she rose to her feet her movements fluid and took a deep curtesy before her partner escorted her from the stage only to envelope her in a huge hug in the wings. His English broken with his native French as he poured out his compliments at her skill and his delight.

She blushed, after all she was one of many and his attention she thought was more due to her being new to their troupe and a pretty face for the suave Frenchman to attempt to play with. Ducking from him with a smile and promise of a dance that evening she disappeared to be alone for a few moments before the further activity of preparing for the rest of the evening on show would continue.

Her dress was simplicity itself, classic lines in dark blue. Her shoes were a classic 1940's style with a twist, a Marc Jacobs design that she had fallen in love with. Her hair remained in the tight bun though the headdress was removed. Her makeup removed and replaced with a light dusting, rose gloss on her lips. She was ready for the evening ahead, the adrenaline from performing replaced with adrenaline of the party ahead. A room of strangers made her quake just at the thought. Though left behind in London the memory of the roses that had haunted her was still fresh in her mind making the world a hard place to trust.
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Lillian Vale
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Toreador Primogen
*
Lily sat quietly in the gallery of the Palais Garnier, her hands folded comfortably over the handbag in her lap. On her wrist was a magnificent bracelet of emeralds that contrasted her maroon gown beautifully. She was also wearing matching necklace and earrings. She was watching the opening night performance of Giselle, a ballet first performed in Paris in 1841. Lily was unfortunately in the New World making her first fortune but that did not diminish her admiration for it. The ballet had died out over the 19th century but came back into the light on this very stage almost 100 years ago and had not died out again by any means.

The music reminded her of that written by Joseph Boulogne, the Chevalier de Saint-Georges. He was the first ever mullato in music, the Black Motzart and, long ago, she had chosen him to conduct her private orchestra before he was stolen away by Concert des Amateurs, the year after she attended court for the first time. He was wonderous and it was through him that she came to know her King George so very well. Well enough for him to give her shelter when she needed it most. Lily was so caught up in this reverie that she almost missed who she was looking for.

The warmth of the music flowed over her as she stepped into the spot light and in a smooth motion rose en Pointe; her arms crossed and began her flowing dance. … Everything that it had taken and the moment was gone, she rose to her feet her movements fluid and took a deep curtsey before her partner escorted her from the …

The girl looked as though she had just walked in from a winter wonderland. Her dress sparkled from the diamantes on it and to Lily’s enhanced eyes; the effect was dazzling. She watched with eyes bordering on envy as she watched the best ballerina since Pierina Legnani float across the stage. Lily knew from the program that she was only going to be in one act but Lily had made sure that she was invited to the after party. This was one dancer she had to meet.

She danced as though she would die if she did not and Lily’s artistic sense was completely taken by this person. It had been a long time since she had admired someone she considered common and it intrigued her. As the girl was swept off into the wings, Lily rose from her seat and left towards the cloakroom and the party. She had seen the other dancers and they would just ruin her evening. Her stilettos clicked quietly over the marble floor as she entered the cloakroom to fix her makeup. Logan always told her there was nothing wrong with it but what did he know, she fixed it anyway until she was happy.

By the time she was done, the party had just begun and Lily made her way there. She took a glass of Champagne as she walked in and was moderately pleased with its quality. It was not the best but it was not bad either. She wandered around ignoring the stares and whispers as much as they pleased her. She did not even bother to check for other kindred although she was sure they were there. All she was interested in was the girl.

Lily finally spotted her standing near a table. She was dressed so elegantly; Lily could not help but be pleased. Her outfit was 1930-1940, Lily’s flavour of the month as far as collecting went but she pushed her obsession from her mind for the moment. She made a slow, steady but nonchalant beeline for the girl and made sure to be in the corner of her eye so as not to spook her. “Bonjour my dear,” greeted Lily as she arrived. “I was watching your performance and I must say bien fait, you were spectacular.” Lily watched for a reaction from the girl. Lily had been watching her for a long time but had not perused the issue until Logan had come along.

The last time she took him to a London Ballet, he had seen the girl in a production and his jaw had dropped, literally. She could not help but be amused and this development could be interesting. Logan was so shy so Lily took it upon herself to get this ball rolling; it could make for endless amusement. That and she really did want to get to know this creature with grace that made Kindred jealous. “My name iz Lillian Vale, what iz yours?”
Lillian Vale ~ L'Aristocrate

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Tout que je veux... J'obtiens...
Et que je veux suis: Logan James - Camarilla City Gangrel
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Natalia Adams
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lost dancer
*
Arriving moments before a drink had been thrust into her hands and she was introduced to some of the favourite patrons of the theatre. She held the conversation as much as she could but she remained with the strange prickle of discomfort, that urge to escape to somewhere less exposed until having finished her flute of champagne she excused herself and moved smoothly but swiftly to the corner and a table where she placed the untouched fresh glass unwilling to drink further. She much prefered to watch people, the groups of complimenting old men, of excitible dancers did not interest her for in her eyes just standing here was fulfilling her duty to the theatre.

A quartet from the orchestra were playing delicate chamber music that left her swaying gently, almost losing herself into the music giving her face a dreamy far away look that had many pause before breaking into her thoughts. It was a young looking woman that approached and Natalia automatically smiled in greeting. Her heavy accent showed that though she was utterly comfortable speaking in English her native language was without doubt French. Wanting to make a good impression and because it was her host country she replied in kind, her accent flawed and her speech halting as she chose the words carefully.

She blushed lightly, her cheeks gaining a rosy glow at yet another compliment. Her French was passable but she was sure that she made errors gramatically to say the least. "Why thank you, My pleasure performance is the passion it offers to the audience..." She paused and then repeated herself in English. "I am sorry I don't think that was right...I try so hard to make a good impression on my first trip to France but I have a lot to learn.... What I meant is that I put my passion into my performance and always hope it brings pleasure to the audience." She blushed even more fiercly at the gobbledy gook she had just said in this woman's language.

She picked up her glass enabling her to keep her arms before her in an unconsciously closed and slightly defensive position. For an artistic person she was often so very unaware of her body language in normal life. She also gave up on her attempts at French, perhaps in time she would improve but it left her feeling so incredibly out of her depth. "A pleasure to meet you Miss Vale, it is always a delight to meet members of the audience especially after such an important performance. It was my first guest solo role you see, I am still used to the smaller parts I have been getting within the Royal Ballet in London...this is a big step for me." She stopped realising she had forgotten to answer Lillian's question so with a smile she finished with. "Sorry...my name is Natalia Adams. As you can guess this is all so very new to me, I am used to being anonymous but that is most certainly not an option here."

She grinned wryly before taking a small sip of her drink, she had no intention of finishing it but it kept her hands busy and that at least prevented the nervous fidgeting that her muscles screamed to be able to do.
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Abel William Beauregard
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Childe
*
The deal had been set and all the due procedures had been done yet Augusta hadn't left the country with the poor excuse of sightseeing and resting a bit from the business world. Abel knew she had something else under her sleeve but this time he couldn't imagine what it was. Perhaps she wanted to tell him something he hoped for, or, to play with him again; which he was not ready for. Augusta told him to visit the Palais Garnier, to see a show and marvel with its exquisite art; William had a taste for this kind of show but the fact she invited him intrigued his box-trapped mind.

As the show begun, William corrected the position of his tie as a simple nervous tic, he glanced sideways to Augusta contemplating in awe her golden curls and white soft skin; her perfume was driving him nuts, the animal instincts that any man couldn't control all of the time, were lurking beneath the civilized facade. Then the music got his attention in a crescendo and, there, he saw her; All that he had been thinking during the day had dissapeared from his mind, Augusta and all the audience had suddenly vanished from his surroundings and there were only him sat on his seat and her dancing gracefully on the scenario. Gasping for air, he stood up as the audience did to burst out in applause.

He rejoiced knowing that, after the show, there was a private reunion with the dancers and several people from the high class society. The invitation to it got to his desk a day after the deal with Augusta had finally been closed, she had come to have a drink with Abel and then proposed him about the idea of going to a show at Palais Garnier; Afterwards a private reunion with the dancers and other people. He and Augusta arrived in time to see all the dignitaries and high class people chatting about the usual topic, business; Abel, however, was interested in something quite different, Natalia Adams; the dancer that captivated his heart. Augusta, of course, was looking for a deal and left for a person she knew.

Natalia was talking to a beautiful yet strange looking woman, who, by eavesdropping, Abel heard her French accent. He approached the two women with a glass of champagne on his right hand and a broad smile of his pearly white teeth, lowering his head as an appology he said: "Pardon my intrusion madmoiselles, my name is Abel William Beauregard"-Said courteously glancing sideways to each woman-"I came here to say that I loved your dance, cherie"-Said William to the dancer-"If you'd like, maybe we could have a drink someday"-Said he as he held out a card with his name and phone numbers.
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Natalia Adams
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lost dancer
*
Before Lillian had a chance to reply a young man approached them, Natalia was not use to this attention at all and immediately blushed fiercly. He was well toned to say the least, attactive eyes that studied her. He had a number of inches on her height and carried it well with an unconscious air of confidence. His accent told her however that unlike all of those around her she was looking at an Englishman, strange how merely being from the same country had her relax quickly as she smiled and took the card.

"Thank you Mr Beauregard...I was just saying to Miss Vale here that it is the chance to offer something to the audience that fuels the passion in my performance. To hear such lavish compliments is certainly hard to get used to but a pleasure all the same." She slid the card into the small clutch purse she held, clicking it shut. "And I thank you for your offer....the performance runs for a number of nights more but perhaps after that if I may give you a call?"
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