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Post by Rosalind Decor on Mar 11, 2009 15:12:52 GMT -5
It was the dead of night and unable to sleep Rosalind had climbed out of her bed and after changing into her clack mourning dress, she travelled down to the church room.
The dress was a bit too short for her, but it was slightly loose in some areas, much to her embarassment, she looked at her reflection in the dimlylit room and she realised it looked as if she were stretched version of her younger self.
Now she was in here and the lonelyness hit her. Her sisters were together, that was all she knew, and her motehr was in heaven with the angels, at least that was what she told her sisters. Her brother seemed to be enjoying himself, from his last, and only letter, which Rosalind promtly tore up then, in a strange fit of sentimentality collected all the pieces up and put them in a small bag in her desk.
As she sat on the hard wooden floor, she realised how scared she could feel when she allowed herself to think and she bit her lip, her heart thumping at ten times its usual rate. She took a deep breath and heard how it shook as she panicked, for the first time since she realised that there was no money left for food.
"Oh Maman, je suis desole! I am sorry" she buried her head in her hands, her slim body was lit up by the single candle lit underneath her mothers picture "je vous ai rates! i have failed you"
She was supposed to have looked after her sisters, she was supposed to have kept the familt together, but her brother stayed away and her father dissapeared and then she could no longer keep her sisters safe.
Since her mother became ill Rosalind had to be strong, she had to be brave and she felt like she was breaking apart now. She had spent so long feeling vulnerable with no-one to hold her or protect her.
"Mum,please, I need someone to protect me. I'm tired of feeling alone and vulnerable. I want some-one to hold me again" she suddenly felt cold and she ran her hands up and down her thin arms trying to take away all the goosebumps. Her eyes showed great pain and anxiety, but also a yearning, a strong want for something, but they would not betray what, for Rosalind did not know fully what she wanted; sometimes she wanted to be the primma donna, other times she just wanted to be with her family, and nothing else. And other times she wanted someone to tell her that he loved her.
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Post by Angelique Dupont on Mar 12, 2009 2:37:12 GMT -5
Angelique was certain that she suffered from insomnia. What other possible reason could she have for being up at this late hour? She had tried reading, but that had proved counterproductive, as she had no desire to wake the other girls in the dorm that would be her semi-home while she was working here at the opera house. That being the case, she had snuck out to see if she could not find some more remote place to read herself to sleep. Moving as quietly and as slowly as she could, the petit ballerina moved through the halls of the opera.
Tucked safely under her arm was a worn copy of the Bible that her maman had given her before she departed to begin her new life as a member of the ballet of the Opera Populaire. It was the same Bible that her mother had owned when she was a girl and brought with her when she married her first husband. Angelique had greatly appreciated the gift when it was given, and now she appreciated it even more. She needed the comfort that the words of the prophets of God could give her. Never before had she been away from her family like this, and in addition to the worry she already harbored for her mother's health, this was a very difficult time for the young girl.
Finally deciding that the small chapel was the best and most fitting place for her to read from her Bible, Angelique slowly and softly descended the steps that would take her to the small chapel. Perhaps she would light a candle for her papa's soul and another for her maman's health while she was down here. The idea was certainly comforting, and it would never hurt to be absolutely certain that the Almighty knew when you needed just a little help.
Suddenly the small dancer stopped short when she saw that the chapel was already occupied by another of the dancers--Angelique recognized her as one of the girl's that shared her dormitory--who appeared to be weeping. Always one who respected an individual's right to grieve, Angelique began to turn to leave when she bumped into a small table that was the resting place of several prayer books. Wincing at the sound, Angelique cursed her luck. Of course she had to be clumsy at this moment…dancers weren't supposed to be clumsy! Turning slowly, Angelique shyly glanced at the other girl from behind lowered lashes as an embarrassed blush crossed her pale cheeks.
"Pardon moi," she murmured softly. "I did not know that the chapel was already occupied, or else I would not have troubled you."
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Post by Rosalind Decor on Mar 12, 2009 14:57:49 GMT -5
Rosalind gently rose to her feet and stood up elegantly and gave a very slight smile at the girl who she recognized from her dorm. She remembered the girls name was Angelique, though her surname escaped Rosalind at that moment.
She turned her head towards Angelique revealing her dry eyes, Rosalind had not been crying and for this, she was grateful;it would have made the situation awkward.
"Are you okay" she asked upon hearing the bump from the table "You can join me if you want" Rosalind said "I do not mind. Beside you are not disturbing me" she gave another shakey smile and iwardly cursed her shyness "Unless you would rather be alone, it would be unfair of me to stop you from being in here as I have already been in here for a while"
She was grateful that Angelique could not see her short tattered dress, for Rosalind would have felt ashamed. She made a mental note to fix her dress when she next had some free time. But still she tried to hide one of the patches with her hand.
She supposed it was her fault her dress was so tattered; since the minute her mother died Rosalind had taken over the household chores and had worn out her dress as well as burned it in some places as she made the fire
She realised her mind was wandering and she focused again, she put her hand on the picture of her mother and felt the frame, it seemed to give her strength and she pushed her shawl off from her head so that her hair fell down her back. She did not feel quite so lonely right now, but she knew that it would soon come back
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Post by Angelique Dupont on Mar 12, 2009 15:59:42 GMT -5
Angelique continued to blush and stared fixedly at the bible that she held in her hands. She had not meant to make such an entrance…and now she was embarrassed and trying to fight the urge to break into a run and escape this place. That scenario was not a possibility, however, as the other girl had addressed her. Escape was lost to Angelique with that simple question about whether she was all right or not.
"I am fine," she said softly, still blushing a brilliant scarlet. "I did not know the table was there, and…" she trailed off, her face growing still warmer with embarrassment. "I merely came for a moment to be able to read from my Bible and possibly pray for my family," she added in explanation.
Glancing up through lowered lashes, Angelique took in the appearance of the girl before her. She was pretty enough, in a very elegant way. Her clothing was worn and tattered in spots, but Angelique decided it would be best to not call attention to that. She knew from experience that just because one was poor and wore rags that did not mean that one was not proud. The dress that Angelique herself now wore was threadbare and repaired in many places. All the money that her family had went to either food or what medicine they could afford for her mother, leaving Angelique and her brother, Jean Paul, to tend to their own clothing as best they could.
"Are you certain that I will not be disturbing you?" Angelique asked softly. "If I am, I can always wait to come in here…"
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Post by Rosalind Decor on Mar 12, 2009 16:38:51 GMT -5
Rosalind smiled "One of my sisters does things like that all the time; she is so clumsy, at least, i think she still is. I'm not saying you are though" Rosalind said her voice thoughtful, the girl Angelique was pretty, from what she could see, and she was once again reminded of her clumsy little sister. "Its dark in here too though, I have tripped over that table countless times" she bit her lip "When it was dark anyway"
"Really I don't mind" Rosalind said ernestly. Its better than being alone anyway She realised the girl was blushing and decided not to comment on it, she did not want to heighten the blushing.
She realised that Angelique's dress was worn too and she felt a bit more comfortable. Some of her patches were better than others, and Rosalind, now thinking of some of her other dresses realised she was getting much better at mending and even making dresses, but shecared not that her clothing was worn; her family valued humility and discouraged pride.
She walked over to the window, barely making a sound as she moved, and peered through stained glass at the moonlit sky, it was truely beautiful she thought and she gave a little sigh; sights like this conformed that God existed.
She identified some constellations for a while, her mind going back to one of the many books shoved underneath her bed. She suposed shew as lucky, she only had to glance at a page to remember it. She sat on the window sill and pulled her knees close to her so she covered less then half of the sitting place, her face was lit up by the moonlight
Eager to make some friends, as Rosalind had kept to her shell since she had started at the Opera house and now she was fed up of being lonely she gave the girl a warm smile "How long have you worked here for?" she asked "I'm Rosalind Decor by the way; I cannot remember if we were ever properly introduced"
She supposed that was the way with the Opera house, you were never introduced, if you were not shy and reserved like Rosalind was, friends were made instantly. Nobody had yet broken into Rosalinds surface to find her warm and loving personality. The only peole ROsalind let were her family, and now she knew nothing about how they were.
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Post by Angelique Dupont on Mar 12, 2009 16:50:43 GMT -5
Angelique continued to stare fixedly at her hands, but a soft and shy smile crossed her lips as she listened to the other girl. She had a little sister…how interesting.
"My older brother is always teasing me about how absentminded I am," she said with a soft chuckle. "He says that were I not a dancer, I would have fallen over and died long ago."
Idly, she watched the other girl walk to the window and took this opportunity to put down her Bible and walk over to where the candles were left for members of the staff and cast of the opera. Taking two from the stack, she placed them lightly in the candlestick that was near her elbow and lit them, offering a silent prayer for her papa's soul and her maman's health. Her thoughts were interrupted when the other girl turned to introduce herself and asked after Angelique's time of employment here.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle Decor," she said with a smile and a curtsy. "My name is Angelique Dupont, and I only just started here within the last few days. It was either work here or continue as a model for artists to use in their paintings of the pagan gods and the saints."
She had to chuckle at that memory. Standing for hours on end while holding a spear or sometimes even a sword was not what she called enjoyable employment. While she adored the artists that she had worked with, the role of a model was not hers to fill. She would much rather be the one who captured the beauty of the model. Tilting her head to one side, Angelique studied Rosalind for a moment. She would make a fine model for one of Angelique's sketches.
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Post by Rosalind Decor on Mar 12, 2009 17:25:35 GMT -5
"It's nice to meet you too" Rosalind said, then smiled genuinly
So Angelique had an older brother too, well she would get to that later; Angelique said something that fascinated Rosalind
"You modelled for artists, Mademoiselle Dupont, you were the model for pagan gods and saints?" she said then beamed "Wow, thats amazing, which artists did you work with, or which godesses and saints did you model for" Her mind instantly thought of the the portraits of greek gods and godesses, the tasteful ones that were suitable for her little sisters to see. She then realised that Angelique had mentioned they were pagan Gods and so it was unlikely that Aphrodite or Andromeda would turn up
"I have an older brother too, he's gone off to work as a preist or something. i think anyway" she could barely keep her annoyance out of her voice and perhaps realising this she carried on "Not that there's anything wrong with that, its just" she paused, it was getting way too personal for Rosalind.
"So," she said changing the subject slightly "What is your brother like? Do you have any other siblings?" she was asking too many questions, something she found that she did when she was nervous, but she was grateful she had not yet resulted in using one syllable sentances that she did when she when her mother first died
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Post by Angelique Dupont on Mar 12, 2009 17:33:48 GMT -5
The smaller dancer had to laugh at the enthusiasm of Rosalind's questions and nodded her head. "Yes, I was a model. Not for any well-known artists, I am afraid. One is a good friend of my family, Armand St. Paul. He loved to paint Athena or Jean d'Arc, so I was constantly holding a sword or a spear for hours on end."
She smiled fondly at the memory and shook her head in amusement. Armand had been the dearest friend to both Angelique and her family. He was a good decade older than the dancer, making any romantic inclinations non-existent between the two of them. The painter was nothing more than a second brother to both Angelique and Jean Paul.
"A priest?" Angelique asked with a smile. "He will be greatly blessed by Our Lord in heaven for his services to the Church." However, Angelique noticed a hint of annoyance in the other girl's tone and would have asked about it had Rosalind not barreled on with another question. "My brother is a dear boy," Angelique said with a laugh. "He has a very mischievous streak in him, and I adore him. He is hard-working and has done everything he can to help support our family since papa's store went out of business. Sadly, he is my only sibling. I would have loved to have a sister, but Maman was too ill after I was born to have any more children."
A sad truth that had led to her mother's contracting consumption. Angelique could not help but blame herself for her mother's bad health, but both her brother and her step-father insisted that was not the case.
"What of you, Mademoiselle?" Angelique asked kindly. "How long have you been with the Opera?"
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Post by Rosalind Decor on Mar 13, 2009 11:01:42 GMT -5
"It is still fascinating, being a model for painters" Rosalind smiled and breifly regarded her own slim body with dislike, once again she heard people making comment sover her eating habits and how flat chested she was "Jean d'arc is possibly one of the most inspirational figures in french history, I can not count how many books I have read about her. it really is fascinating, and Athena too" she stopped herself; nobody likes a geek, or a know-it-all
"I have been here a year and a half" she said, she ahd made frinds but they came and went as they got married or became dissilusioned, when she next spoke her voice was of great gentleness for she knew how it was to have an ill mother "I am sorry about your mother" she said "i know whats its like" she bit her lip "I have two little sisters, who I love so much, they are, or were, sunny little things. I miss them"
She could not help but smile on what Angelique said about Louis, how little she knew about Louis, how his desrtion of the family was a foactor in her fathers desappearance, how his last letter was rude and disrescpectful, if God was just, Louis would be judged on this too and Rosaling knew this would happen,
"Do you speak to your brother often?" ROsalind asked, knowiing that if Angelique asked the same it would open up old wounds, but she cared not, maybe it would be good to tell someone why she was so closed up, why she never let anyone close to her.
Her voice was then reduced to a whisper "Do yout hink that the phantom still exists" she asks, her eagerness was betrayed in both her eyes and her face, because if he did thenmaybe ROsalind could rebuild her family.
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Post by Angelique Dupont on Mar 13, 2009 11:35:05 GMT -5
Angelique laughed softly and shook her head. "It is a fascinating life until one lives it," she said with a shake of her head. "As inspiring as the great ladies that I pose for are, their images are very difficult on a young model's arms and back."
The long hours of standing holding a sword raised high in a salute to France, while they had been well-spent, were some of the most tiring of her lifetime, and she would not choose to go back to that anytime soon. Though it would be so very nice to see Armand again and to at least talk with him. If she did return to modeling, she could always ask to pose as a dancer or to remain a saint.
Angelique noted the use of the past tense when Rosalind spoke of her sisters, but did not comment on it as she answered Rosalind's next question. "Yes. I speak with Jean Paul almost every day. He has stayed with Maman while I work here to ensure that she is well cared for in her time of difficulty. I only wish that he could have finished his schooling…"
The next question that Rosalind asked her surprised Angelique. Not many truly believed in the Opera Ghost anymore. It had been so long since the chandelier had fallen to the floor of the Opera and the soprano Christine Daae had been kidnapped by the ghost. Though…Angelique would admit to believing in beings of the supernatural. She believed in angels and demons. Why could a Ghost not be real?
"I do not know if I think that he exists at all, let alone that he ever did," she finally answered. "I would not be greatly shocked if he did, though."
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Post by Rosalind Decor on Mar 14, 2009 15:34:52 GMT -5
Rosalind smiled; recalling they years of the continued ballet streches and she understood the aches and pains that they caused; she was used to them by now and she had a strong and supple body due to it.
"I can imagine" she said, thinking particularly of the back pain.
She felt a strong urge of jealosy when she found that Angelique spoke to her brother often and wished she could be able to even see somebody from her family often
"I believe the phantom exists still" she paused "At least I hope he still is. I heard, well my mum used to say that he was a musical genius with an amazing voice to match"
"Your brother, he went to school, how was he at that?" Rosalind asked, she loved learning and she often used to sneak into the boys classes, her face covered so they would not suspect, they always found out as soon as she answered a question, unable to control herself any longer and she was sent from the room in disgrace.
Boys always got better education than girl, with a few exceptions, but that tended to be ROyal children like Elizabeth Tudor of England and Jane Grey. At the thought of these two English women Rosalind felt a ripple of pride, for she was half english herself.
"Its a shame he could not finish his schooling, I would give almost anything to be educated to the standard that boys are, although I would not go hunting" she said, she hated the thought of killing animals and it made her feel uneasy that it was considered a sport. "How much older was your brother than you?"
She was suprised with the ease of how the words came to her, as if she had known with this girl for much longer, but still she decided to stop talking of education, she did not want the risk of being labelled a freak.
She remembered how when her brother had a tutor how she recieved some lessons from him and how he said she was a brilliant little scholar with a keen mind. She smiled to herself; it was rare she got compliments like that, ones that really meant something to her. Not that she did not blush when she was complimented on her appearance.
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Post by Angelique Dupont on Mar 15, 2009 3:11:53 GMT -5
A proud smile crossed Angelique's face as she was asked to give more information about her brother. If there was one thing that Angelique could say about Jean Paul, it was that he was a brilliant boy.
"Oh, he was very good in school," she explained with a smile. "He could have become a great scholar had he stayed. But with maman so ill, he refused to put that strain on our finances. He is such a considerate boy…now he finds whatever work he can on the streets; mending, building, driving…anything that will pay."
Her smile wavered for a moment as she thought about the things her brother had gone through to ensure that his baby sister could eat and have relatively good clothing. Since the time of their father's death he had been looking after her rather like a Guardian Angel. But her sad mood disappeared almost instantly.
"It is a shame, but the education system is becoming more open to women," she agreed. "In America and even in England women are becoming able to attend colleges, my papa tells me. And Jean Paul is three years older than me, though at times I am certain he has aged so much that he could easily be a decade my senior."
Jean Paul had aged. In the years since their shop had failed and they had discovered their mother's sickness, the boy had such a great burden on his shoulders. He had become one of the breadwinners of the family when he was really too young to be forced into such circumstances. Many times Angelique had commented on how he had been cheated out of his childhood to ensure that she had her own. His response was always a fond smile and a gentle embrace as he told her that he would not have things turn out any other way. Angelique could only pray that his hard work would be rewarded in this lifetime.
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Post by Rosalind Decor on Mar 17, 2009 4:01:46 GMT -5
Rosalind smiled "My mother was English, and if she had not have met my father she would have gone to Oxford or Cambridge to study" she paused, reembering her mother "She was very smart"
"It's a shame your brother has aged so much" Rosalind said "I hasve not seen mine in years so I can't say how much he is aged, he probably is just the same as ever" Haughty, proud and full of himself she added silently.
She comapred him with her younger sisters who were not afraid to show anyone love and were appraised as being two of the sweetest girls in France. Rosalind would always think of them as little girls, no matter how much they grew as she remembered holding them when they were babies and singing them to sleep every night.
Her brother would sometimes help, but it was half hearted as if he was being pulled away from something he would rather do, normally a walk around the garden or the park nearby. Sometimes he would bring the girls with him but he was often impatient and then Rosalind, or their mother, would have to comfort the girls.
But her brother could be funny and Rosalind remebered the times he would have her in stiches of laughter at one of his tales or jokes; he and Rosalind had similar sense of humours and they tended to get on very well, it was when she thought on these times that she felt guilty for disliking her brother, when he came home one day with little presents for each one of them. or when after their mother died and he went of to become a priest he sent home money. She wondered how he was getting on and resolved to write to him, maybe he would reply if she did not mention their father. She suspected he knew where their sisters were and he could tell her if she pleaded enough.
"How old are you anyway" Rosalind wanted to know, hoping she was not being rude. She wondered if she looked her eighteen years, she got a range of ages from people, some saying she looked younger due to her large eyes, or older due to her expansive knowledge, or at least, thats what they said.
She reached up a hand and ran it through her dark silky hair thoughtfully, she had longed for adventure when she was younger but she got life's own adventure instead; she did not know which she prefered
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Post by Angelique Dupont on Mar 18, 2009 15:47:00 GMT -5
"It is a shame," Angelique replied with a shrug. "But he claims that he does not care."
Jean Paul was a good boy. In Angelique's early years, he had always been there to encourage her to take the next step, learn a new word, dance a little longer, sing a little louder, and so much more. He was her Guardian Angel, she would tease him by saying. She loved him with all of her heart and only wanted the best for him, which was why she was now working in the Opera to ensure that their family had the money to allow him to return to schooling.
With a soft laugh at the question concerning her age, Angelique smiled to assure the other girl that she was not insulted. "I am barely nineteen years old," she replied. "I started acting as a model to the artists in our community when I was twelve. If I did not also pose for the pictures of Saints, I believe my maman would have died of shock at the idea of her child being nothing more than a model.
It was a sad truth. Her maman, while she was a very sweet woman, was prone to superstition and was extremely religious. If her maman knew that her daughter believed in the Opera Ghost, she would give a long speech on how there were no ghosts, only demons of Satan who were sent to Earth to tempt young women away from their good families and to their deaths.
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Post by Rosalind Decor on Mar 19, 2009 14:17:09 GMT -5
Rosalind smiled "I am eighteen too, though I am not sure whether I act like it" she joked then twisted her hair around her hand.
"You know he could always sneak into lessons, I used to do that before I came here, thank goodness I am so flat chested otherwise I would have been caught immeadiatly" she paused "Ma mere was a dancer herself before she gave birth to Amelie, and she believed in the Opera ghost. She used to tell amazing stories, of his past, of his present and of his possible future"
She thought more on Angeliques model work "I would love to be a model for art, but as some of the chorus girls say, I would get the part as a stick, or a wooden beam" she regarded her figure gloomily again, they were right, she was tall and thin and had no curves to speak of. "But once again, it did allow me to get away with joining in with the boys classes"
She thought for a while "Do people recognize you in the street sometimes?" she asked thinknig of a book she read about a famous portrait model running away from the city just so she could be a nobody. Rosalind, though understanding this need to blelnd in, she wanted to be a somebody, just once
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