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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 10, 2008 23:29:54 GMT -5
"I don't think so," he replied, raising an eyebrow. "Nobody 'recruits' Atropia M. Belladonna. She asks for roles, and she didn't want this one. I think you safely have the right to make demands."
He noticed that they'd forgone looking for his script. It surprised him that it had taken this long to notice. He would have felt imposing, but Iseabail didn't seem to mind, so he decided not to bring it up.
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Post by Maestro on Feb 10, 2008 23:49:19 GMT -5
She smiled a bit wryly, knowing she'd said the wrong word. "Aye, you're absolutely right," she responded. "I dinna ken where 'recruit' came from; I might still be thinking in Gaelic." She'd have to find some songs in Gaelic for Armand; he might enjoy them. He was right, though, about the beauty of the language.
"Weel, you might just be surprised to hear a Scottish Tosca, then," she smiled. "It might make it a bit more difficult for Scarpia to understand her, though, but he'll probably be able to read her better." She tended to be more of a physical actor when she was using her native accent, a fact that she needed to occasionally incorporate into her characters even if they weren't Scottish.
While she hadn't forgotten about his script, it wasn't in the forefront of her mind, either. If she just cared to think for a minute, she'd probably remember where she had put it, but she was too busy conversing at the moment.
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 11, 2008 11:39:33 GMT -5
He smiled broadly. "Well, perhaps Scarpia will just have to practice harder and pay more attention," he replied. Generally, he could understand her accent just fine. It was a pleasant brogue that was nice to listen to, and unless he was completely off kilter, Iseabail was a good actress. They might not get much time to try out the new idea for awhile, though, since rehearsals were cancelled the better part of the week for the Nightmare Masquerade.
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Post by Maestro on Feb 11, 2008 19:51:05 GMT -5
"Aye," she laughed. "I doubt that he'll have a hard time with tha'," she responded, amused. It was a very good thing that they were eventually going to be singing in Italian; Iseabail had to try quite hard not to have a Scottish accent during rehearsals. "It will give my mind a bit of a break, leaving my accent alone," she murmured, pleased.
Thinking for a moment, she grinned mischievously. "Act II seems like a good place for Tosca to become Scottish; there are lovely duets throughout." He knew that, of course, being one of those involved with the duets. "It's a pity tha' there are no many rehearsals this week," she commented, rather disappointed by that. At least she had the Masquerade to look forward to, if she went. If Julien got wind of the fact that she was thinking about not going, though, Iseabail had absolutely no doubts about where she would be when the Masquerade began.
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 12, 2008 0:39:58 GMT -5
"It is a pity," he muttered, and his expression turned dark. He sighed just thinking about the fated night, wishing he wasn't born into the family that hosted it every year. He was surprised to see that Iseabail looked equally displeased. "Are you going to the Masquerade?" he asked.
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Post by Maestro on Feb 12, 2008 1:19:35 GMT -5
Well, at least SOMEONE shared her opinion. Julien, of course, though he was brilliant on the stage, hated rehearsals (especially for things he'd done more than once) and was probably glad for the time off.
"Och, I dinna ken," she admitted, pleasantly surprised that he had asked. "If I do, I dinna ken as what. I have costumes, but no really much of an idea of who or what I would be." She had some ideas, but most of them were pretty generic. While Iseabail didn't particularly want to stand out, she liked to at least attempt to be creative.
"If ye didna have to go, would ye?" she asked, curiously. Realizing what she'd just said, Iseabail's eyes widened. "Och, ye dinna have to answer that if ye don't want to," she murmured hastily, slightly embarrassed. "I do no mean to pry," she added, coloring a bit.
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 13, 2008 1:24:21 GMT -5
He gave her an odd look as she blushed. "It's fine," he assured her in a low murmur, somewhat amused.
"No, I wouldn't." He said simply and truthfully. "So, I can't really blame you if you don't want to go."
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Post by Maestro on Feb 13, 2008 2:09:43 GMT -5
She smiled a bit, laughing. "Aye, well, if I dinna show up, I dinna ken if I would be missed." She had no idea if anyone would, but she hoped that someone in the Opera company, at least, would look around and say "Hey, Iseabail's not here. Let's go get her."
Glancing over her desk again, she leaned forward, pulling something out from underneath a pile of papers, all different ideas for what to do with her character.
"Och, here it is, the wayward little bugger," she intoned, smiling a bit. It was a pity that she had to give Armand his script back; she had enjoyed getting into Scarpia's head. Plus, now that she had found his script, he would probably leave. If he showed signs that he was going to, Iseabail was just going to ask him "to do this again sometime" (adding that somewhere other than her room might be more comfortable) and tradition be damned. She was a Scot; she didn't have to wait for an invitation! Besides, they weren't in the 18th century anymore; things were different now. Well, in the world, at least. Iseabail was getting better about stepping out of the way that tradition had molded her; she just needed more practice. It was rather a pity that the operas couldn't help with that.
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 15, 2008 15:27:02 GMT -5
"Ah, not true, fair lady, for the entire room would dim in brightness with your absence." He smiled self-consciously, apology in his eyes. "I'm not Julien," he amended with a shrug, "but you get my meaning."
"Oh, thank you," he took the script from her hands, flipping through it with his thumb. Their conversation stilled to a rather thick state of awkwardness, because he was fairly certain he should leave now. And he'd complimented her in a way that unless he was her father/grandfather (which he wasn't), decidedly bordered on flirting, whether he'd meant to or not. He stood to his feet, script firmly in both hands. "Again, I'm sorry to have imposed on you, Miss Ma--- Iseabail," he corrected himself quietly, glancing up at her. Nrgghlkn. "I should probably leave."
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Post by Maestro on Feb 15, 2008 16:59:14 GMT -5
She colored a bit with his compliment, smiling. "Thank ye," she murmured, both pleased and embarrassed by the lovely compliment. "And ye do much better than he does, in English," Iseabail added, still smiling. She would make sure that she was at the Masquerade now, whether he would be able to recognize her in costume or not.
"No at all," she responded, relinquishing the book when he reached for it. Standing as he did, she smiled at him, shaking her head at his words. "Och, ye were no imposing, Armand," she told him. "I'm quite glad that ye stopped by," she murmured, smiling a bit shyly at him.
'Ye can stay if ye like," Iseabail ventured, almost surprising herself. "If ye must go, though, we should do this again sometime, the whole talking-outside-of-rehearsals thing," she said softly, wondering what he'd think of that suggestion.
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 15, 2008 17:11:39 GMT -5
His eyes widened a fraction of an inch, barely noticeable, as he was a prided master of his facial expressions when it came to emotion, but he was definitely surprised by the offer. The way she said it made him suddenly aware that he wasn't in a room alone with a co-worker, but he was in a room alone with a girl. And now he was aware that she wasn't ugly.
"That's alright, I have things... to be doing. But, again, later... sounds good." He smiled uncertainly, hoping his confusion didn't show on his face.
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Post by Maestro on Feb 15, 2008 23:19:45 GMT -5
She nodded at his words, smiling a bit. "Aye, weel, I'll see ye at rehearsal then," she offered, hoping that she hadn't offended Armand with her friendly offer. Oh, dear. Now that she actually thought about what she had said, she realized what it must have sounded like.
Blushing brightly now, she quickly murmured, "I didna mean to make it sound like ... tha," she said, finishing that statement somewhat lamely, she thought.
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Post by Miss Jack on Feb 16, 2008 0:02:56 GMT -5
There was suddenly not enough air to breathe. That singular comment made everything exponentially awkward, which was awkward in and of itself because Armand was not familiar with being awkward. He'd didn't usually have a reason to be. His cheeks were slightly colored as he said, "Oh, well that's fine..." Did he sound disappointed? Not how he'd meant to sound. He couldn't get to the door quickly enough. He felt out of sorts with himself. "I really, really need to be leaving now, so, um, bye."
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Post by Maestro on Feb 16, 2008 0:24:19 GMT -5
Och, great job, Iseabail, absolutely bloody deàrrsadh, she berated herself inwardly.
"Duilich," she whispered, soft voice clearly carrying the remorse she felt for botching things. She'd have to send him a letter, apologizing profusely for her words.
As soon as Armand closed the door behind him, Iseabail practically threw herself at her piano bench, fully intending to a) play the piano until she felt slightly better or b) practice until she went hoarse. Or better yet, both. It wasn't as though she had rehearsal that night, anyway; who would care if she couldn't sing?
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