Cleanliness Is Next To....

[Miss Jack]

ooc; So I wasn't sure if the opera had specific rehearsal rooms or not, soo....


Armand wiped a pair of stray ballerine shoes off a stool and offered it to Iseabail. The room was a mosh pit, an entire era of opera leaving its traces over the years. The accumulation made it a little cramped, but there was a piano, and it was close enough that the musical director could hound them down should he feel the urge.

Armand took his own seat on top of a worn chest. He smirked, and flourished a hand dramatically at Julien. "Well, Maestro, kindly direct us to your creative vision."

[Marguerite]

"Sing through it, basically," Julien said, nearly throwing himself onto the piano bench and nearly sliding off it.

He cracked open the score and played some of the right-hand orchestrations. "D'accord, c'est simple. So! Scarpia, get wiz ze zreats. Dum de dum, I've been hauled away for questioning and torture... three measures before you start... okay, your cue."

[Miss Jack]

Armand gave a mock bow and stood to his feet. Although he didn't quite have Julien's expertise, he'd at least memorized a few of the more basic lines. He turned with a feral smirk to Iseabail. And now let's talk together like good friends. his expression turned positively dark. Come now, don't look so frightened. But I like that you do. With one hand, he gestured for her to take a seat, although, technically, she was already sitting.

[Maestro]

If Iseabail remembered correctly, Tosca would have just entered the room. Standing quickly to accomodate for the scene, the woman changed her expression to one of fright, backing away from Armand slightly.

Reacting to the gesture to be seated, Iseabail sat, singing her line as she did so. "I am not afraid," she told Scarpia, her face now a mask of utter calm. Rearranging her kilt as she would her gown, Tosca figdeted, trying not to appear nervous.

[Miss Jack]

What about the fan? Armand sang in his forbidding, baritone villian voice. He positioned himself somewhat behind her, leaning against the wall in a mock form of gallantry.

[Maestro]

Turning slightly to keep the man in her line of sight, the woman dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. "That was foolish jealously."

"So, the Attavanti was not at the villa?" came the question.

With a shake of her head, Iseabail responded, "No, he was alone. She tried to appear as though she was NOT nervous, a feat which was actually kind of challenging, currently.

"Alone? Are you quite sure?" was the retort, accompanied by narrowed eyes.

Half-tempted to laugh nervously, Iseabail turned away from Armand, hiding her expressive eyes. "Nothing escapes a jealous eye. Alone. Alone," she insisted, folding her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting again.

[Miss Jack]

Scarpia was stung at being thought jealous. With a barely concealed snarl, he moved from his position and grabbed another stool, placing it directly in front of Tosca/Iseabail. His knees meshed with her skirt and he leaned forward with the deliberate intent of intimidation. Eyes hooded and narrowed, he studied every plane of her face, her nose, her lips, and settled directly into her eyes. A slow, cold smirk curled his lips.

"Indeed."

[Maestro]

Tosca hadn't been paying attention to Scarpia; she was worried about what was happening with Mario in that other room. Starting slightly as he leaned forward, the woman tried to press herself away from him, hindered by the back of the couch.

Passing off her fear as annoyance, Tosca sighed heavily. "Yes. she told him, adding "Alone" for emphasis. Smoothing her skirts, the woman tried to avoid looking Scarpia in the eyes, afraid of what she might see.

[Miss Jack]

Armand looked down at Tosca with a pitying look he'd learned from Alex. "You protest too much!" Scarpia's voice softened, grew darker. I know you, his stare seemed to say. Perhaps you fear / You may betray yourself." He raised a meaningful brow at her and then stood, turning.

"Sciarrone, He turned to Julien and had to grin despite himself. "Sciarrone? You look like Cavaradossi..." He bit his lip and the magic of the acting was broken. "Sorry," he chuckled, apologizing to Iseabail. "We're done?" he asked, hopeful, back to Julien.

[Marguerite]

"Yeah, we're done, I think. You know the notes, you know the characters... just be a leeeeetle more careful on your entrances. Oh, and Iseabail, are you playing Tosca more nervous zan... euh... haughty 'ere? Is an unusual choice."

He played a couple of chords, then pressed down on a dissonant clump of keys all at once. "Merde! Next week is Valentine's Day! Merde! I 'ave nozzing!"

[Maestro]

Iseabail laughed, quite amused by Armand's break in character. And it actually came at a rather opportune time; the woman didn't like the way she was portraying Tosca

"Och, dinna worry yerself abou' it," she told him, smiling. "Gives me an excuse to make different choices next time." They absolutely would be different choices, too; she would be prepared for the affect Armand seemed to have on her. When had that happened, anyway?

Turning to Julien, she shook her head. "It wasna exacly a choice," she murmured, smiling wryly. "I dinna ken where it came from, but I've got a better idea what I want to do with Tosca now."

She jumped slightly, started by that dissonance. "Och, Julien, why did ye no say so earlier?" she asked, unable to keep herself from shaking her head at her friend. "Come on, then," she walked over to him and tugged at his elbow. "We'll make sure ye've got something for your bonny lass." She didn't have a clue what, though. Perhaps when they were actually in the shops she would have more inspiration.

Uncertain as to whether or not Armand would be going with them, she turned in his direction, a friendly (or perhaps slightly more than just friendly) smile on her face. "Come with us," it seemed to say, even before she opened her mouth to ask the question.

"Coming with us, Armand?" she asked politely, hoping that he would.

[Miss Jack]

"Er..." Armand hesitated. He ran a hand through his hair; not a good idea, since it was in a ponytail and it just made a mess of it. He caught Iseabail's hopeful expression and crumbled.

"Okay," he said with an uncertain smile. "But I'm not sure how much help I'll be."

[Marguerite]

"You'll be moral support," Julien said grimly, shutting the score shut with a snap and tucking it under his arm. "Merde. 'As been centuries! I've exhausted everyzing by now."

He let Iseabail drag him away, feeling particularly woebegone. "I can't zink of anyzing, can you? But to 'ave nozzing!" He groaned. "Armand, never get a girlfriend. She'll want you to be romantic and zere is only so much of your brain zat can come up wiz eet."

[Miss Jack]

Armand rolled his eyes, trailing behind them. "I am not in danger, I assure you," he said dryly. Which was, let's face it, for the better. He wouldn't know the first thing about romance, and he still blushed when his parents kissed in front of him. (Then again, Jack and Pia didn't just kiss, they kissed.)

"I also can't help but feel you're being a bit dramatic," he said, as seriously as he could manage, and failing for the most part. "I don't think October will dump you if her Valentines isn't up to par."

[Maestro]

She laughed, hiding her slight discomfort (and, well, a bit of disappointment) behind a smile. "Aye, weel, Julien lives for the dramatic," she told Armand, meaning Opera. "I do agree with Armand, though, but I understand October's point of view, as weel."

"So," she said, rubbing her hands together in a business-like fashion, "We shall help ye find a lovely gift for October." She'd have to think about it for a little bit, though; the perfect gift was not normally something that one could fabricate out of thin air. If that were the case, this situation would be easy to solve.