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Post by Marguerite on Feb 7, 2008 0:03:15 GMT -5
Julien looked around at his room somewhat dismally. This wasn't because, generally speaking, there were clothes in strange places and sheet music everywhere you looked- it was because there weren't.
And that was never a good sign. Julien preferred having every available inch of space carpeted with stuff. He could always just plunge a hand into the murk and pull out something he'd at one time been looking for. He had a strange organizational system. It was useless trying to explain it to anyone; even October tended to point out that, as nice as it was, he should really make sure sentient life-forms hadn't developed several layers down.
Someone had cleaned it.
And that meant Julien had no idea where anything at all was. He dug a fang into his lower lip and rifled through a likely pile of scores near the door. Where was his score of Tosca? He'd performed it hundreds of times before.....
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 7, 2008 0:26:51 GMT -5
Armand sauntered up toward Julien's room, in no rush. The assistant director had, with a pleading, defeated look, asked him to go retrieve their star, missing again. Armand was happy to do it, and he was happy to take his time. Julien was not only the engine to the performance, but he'd done said performance multiple times. He didn't need to rehearse.
His folded copy of Tosca was in his pocket. He hummed the score in his throat as he walked. He enjoyed playing the villian.
"Julien?" He knocked against the doorframe of his godfather's room, since the door was already open. "I-- wow. You're room's clean." He blinked, than noticed Julien searching. "Lose something?"
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Post by Marguerite on Feb 7, 2008 0:41:16 GMT -5
"I 'ave no idea where anyzing iz," Julien replied dismally, looking at the wooden floor. It was shiny.
"Not zat I'm pleased to see my favorite godson in zis world and ze next, but can I 'elp you?" Julien lifted up a stack of sheet music, found only piano concertos (someone had arranged his music!), and looked in the closet.
Who put clothes in the closet? Unnatural, that. He looked at Armand in minor amusement. "Oh! Right. Rehearsal. Is only slightly strange to be fighting you for Iseabail's 'and." He ruffled Armand's hair affectionately.
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 7, 2008 1:05:39 GMT -5
Armand's lip twitched in a semblance of amusement. He'd grown up quite a few decades ago, but it still didn't stop Julien from treating him the same as he'd always done. Both his father and Alexander rolled their eyes at the display, and he supposed that's why he liked it so much.
"I'm afraid not," he replied, amused. "Iseabail is too good for me, and Scarpia. This is only a beginning rehearsal. Why not just let October use her phenomenal cosmic powers to pull out your Tosca score later? I'm sure you won't need it immediately."
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Post by Marguerite on Feb 7, 2008 1:24:01 GMT -5
“Ah, but eet does not stop you from ‘aving a firing squad shoot at me.” Julien vindictively scattered Tchaikovsky concertos over the newly clean floor. “I rembair… ah, once, we ‘ad a bunch of untrained actors as ze firing squad in ze end. Zey were told to shoot ze principal, and zen follow ze leader out. Of course, at ze end, both principals are still onstage, so zey ‘ad no idea whether to shoot me or Pia. Zey ended up deciding to shoot Pia because she annoyed zem. Zey were vairy shocked when I shoved ‘er out of ze way and fell down instead, particularly as zey shot at Pia again after zat and she did not die. No one ‘ad told zem zat zair leader was ze captain of ze guard, eizzer, so when Pia jumped off ze parapet, zey all followed ‘er off. Ze reviewers said eet-” Julien drew himself up to his full height and affected a posh drawl “-give a Shakespearean greatness to the final tragedy.”
He slouched again and gave up on the score as lost. “But, good plan. We’ll wait for Octobair. ‘Owever, zis gives me no excuse to miss rehairsal. It gets boring after ze first zree hundred performances. But, as an authority figure in your life, I did not just advise you to skip boring obligations. Let’s go.”
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Post by Maestro on Feb 7, 2008 1:46:57 GMT -5
Iseabail had stuck by her usual adage of "on time is fifteen minutes early," a practice which had served her well in the past. Of course, she was one of the first to arrive to rehearsal, but she figured that she had worked too hard for too long to be late now.
As the minutes ticked by, the company began to show up. When Julien didn't arrive on time (something that was not unusual), the director sent Armand to fetch him, since the latter was Julien's godson.
"I think they might have gotten lost," one of the cast members muttered, anxious to start rehearsal.
"Well, two out of three leads are missing-in-action, might as well send the third to get the other two," someone else murmured.
Taking that as her cue, Iseabail turned to the director for approval. Receiving a nod, the Scot made her way upstairs. Knocking on the door to Julien's room, she lounged against the doorframe, kilt perfect as usual.
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 7, 2008 1:59:05 GMT -5
"Right." Armand nodded his agreement, fairly certain he'd only understood about 10% of that rambling. As they turned to go, Iseabail greeted them in the doorway.
Armand smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Miss MacDonald. We were, honestly, just about to head back down."
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Post by Maestro on Feb 7, 2008 2:10:35 GMT -5
She smiled, greeting her best friend and his godson. "Och, dinna worry yerself abou' it," she murmured, laughing a bit. "It isna me that's all in a dither abou' things; I'm used to this by now." She winked at Julien (if he wasn't used to her good-natured teasing by NOW, he never would be) knowing that he knew she was joking.
Realizing that Armand had called her "Miss MacDonald" (yet again), Iseabail grinned wryly. "Please, call me Iseabail," she murmured, hoping he'd remember this time. It embarrassed her to be referred to as "Miss MacDonald," for reasons she didn't quite understand herself.
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Post by Marguerite on Feb 7, 2008 2:24:32 GMT -5
"I would be surprised eef you were not," Julien said, rolling his eyes. "Nom de Dieu, why iz ze man always surprised when I don't come to rehearse somezing I already know? Not zat I advocate playing hooky." He waved a hand at Armand. "Is bad. Vairy bad. Nevair do eet."
He glanced back at his room and then walked out, kicking over a stack of sheet music as he did so. Ha, now it felt more like his room.
"Yes, yes, coming Iseabail. Armand, you don't 'ave to stand on ceremony 'ere. Iseabail's Iseabail." Fine piece of circular logic, that.
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 8, 2008 0:18:34 GMT -5
He rolled his eyes. He wouldn't play hooky anyway. He enjoyed rehearsal, and unlike Julien, didn't have centuries of tedious practice to dampen its appeal.
He gave Julien a wry look and then nodded back at Iseabail. "Iseabail," he corrected quietly, knowing he would call her Miss MacDonald again.
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Post by Maestro on Feb 8, 2008 1:29:51 GMT -5
Standing straight up, Iseabail just laughed, shaking her head at her best friend. "You have to rehearse something you already know so tha' the rest of the cast can get used to your antics," she told him, knowing full well that the two of them could probably show up at just the dress rehearsals and have no problems. Iseabail loved to rehearse, though; she loved everything about the theatre, which could explain why she fought to get where she was (it wasn't easy, convincing people that she could sing the roles that Pia normally played).
She smiled when Armand said her name; it sounded that much prettier, coming from his lips. Feeling a blush coming on, Iseabail turned in the direction of the stairs. "Weel, come on," she began, hastily forming an excuse for her sudden change in direction "We'd best get back before they send the entirety of the Opera House to get us."
It wasn't usual for Iseabail to be .. nervous, especially when she was in the Opera House. Julien would probably notice it right away and tease her mercilessly later, but for now, the woman needed to appear calm, at least in front of Armand.
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Post by Marguerite on Feb 8, 2008 1:39:56 GMT -5
Julien may have had the attention span of a disabled flea, but he knew well enough when Something Was Going On.
Just what it was presently eluded him, so Julien merely slammed his door shut and sagged against the frame in an attitude of histronic despair. "Auuuuuuuugh, I 'ate it. Well, let's descend into ze Inferno quickly."
He stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and strolled down the stairs, wondering vaguely if he could think of any other excuse to get out of rehearsal. Sudden, painful death? It'd be hard to recover from that. October suddenly needed him to buy... something? Lepers invaded his room? Broken leg? Mysterious allergy to the rehearsal room?
By the time he'd realized that absolutely none of them would work, Iseabail had led him to the rehearsal room. Julien's shoulders sagged. Merde. No escape.
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 8, 2008 1:53:25 GMT -5
Armand withheld his chuckle at the expression on his godfather's face. You'd think they'd asked him to clean out Rissa's toilets. Armand wasn't handicapped by ADD, and generally, was quite perceptive. But that didn't stop him from being capital C, Clueless, when it came to members of the opposite gender, particularly classy co-workers like Iseabail.
"Finally," the assistant director groused when his three leads strolled through the door. "I suppose we can start now, yes? Let's go over some scenes."
ooc; This is where I think you opera experts should take over.
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Post by Marguerite on Feb 8, 2008 2:37:04 GMT -5
After Julien sang through the entire first act, including the accompaniment, the music director just gave up.
"Alright! Alright de Sang, I know you know the part!"
"I can sing it backwards," Julien replied chipperly, turning the accompanist's score to the last page and reading from right to left. Though this amused the chorus, it did not entertain the music director quite as much. "Oh, want to 'ear my version of Vissa del Arte? I know I should not know eet since my character ees being brutally tortured while Tosca ees singing it, but aftair ze six-hundredth time I performed-"
"De Sang!"
"Do not abuse ze participle," Julien said. "Am fond of it."
"Go over Act Two with Armand and Iseabail and let my poor chorus learn its notes on its own!"
"Done." Julien grabbed the score away from the accompanist and ambled out of the room.
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Post by Maestro on Feb 8, 2008 2:56:49 GMT -5
As Julien went through his whole routine, Iseabail just laughed. She had seen things like this many times before, but somehow, they had never seemed nearly as amusing as they did now.
"Och, I'd love to hear your version, Julien," Iseabail called, laughing. "But I dinna ken whether doing it right now would be in the best interest of your life," she added, glancing at the musical director.
By the time Julien had received his orders, Iseabail was laughing so hard that she could barely stand. Managing to make it to her feet, the chuckling Scot nodded to the rest of the cast, following Julien out of the room.
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