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Post by Jeanne Grise on Apr 22, 2006 22:19:18 GMT -5
Jeanne toptoed backstage, her ballerina slippers barely making a noise. The rest of the cast had gone off to party and enjoy themselves. This Opera played out like butter. There weren't any mjor mistakes and everyone played their part. Jeanne, herself, didn't trip.
She walked through the confines of the backstage, enjoying the quiet and admiring the set designs. She did a few steps of the ballet to imaginary music, thinking she was by herself.
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Post by alyna on Apr 25, 2006 16:19:51 GMT -5
Carlotta huffed past, sobbing loudly while a servant ran after her with a handkerchief in his extended arm. She paid no attention to the ballerina as she turned another corner and disappeared.
((Just passing through. XP))
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Post by Jeanne Grise on Apr 25, 2006 23:25:09 GMT -5
(((Ok)))
Jeanne heard Carlotta and stopped in her tracks. She ducked behind the curtain and waited until she left. As soon as she did, Jeanne popped back out and sat down in a huff.
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phantomsbride1
Eighth Note
You alone can make my song take flight
Posts: 95
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Post by phantomsbride1 on May 13, 2006 9:58:30 GMT -5
Estelle wandered backstage, feeling rather lost and out of place, for she was still trying to find her feet in France, having had the great diva herself push very rudely past her, Estelle had glared at her disappearing back. But then with a rueful smile reminded herself that she had once been like that herself, back in her homeland, England. She saw a ballerina duck behind the curtain and walked timidly forwards,
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
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Post by Madame Giry on Jun 18, 2006 14:40:02 GMT -5
locked
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