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 Posted: Sat Jul 21, 2007 4:01 pm
Over two years, the stage has progressed and built up much more quickly then most have. Supposedly it was named after the director's daughter who died. The outside walls a marked with painting by artists, famous or not. Some of the artists have even became famous from the work done of the theater's walls. It seats about 200 people, built in a circular shape with four stories. One of the most impressive features of it is the open roof that can be closed during the colder months to keep out snow.Lately, it is filled with more "prestigious" guests, and thus the price of seats has raised quite a bit. The acts have become more advanced, filled with plays groups of magicians or musicians, rather then just acts of one person put on in some mismatched order. Still, the floor is open to poorer quests.
Behind the stage is a living area for the actors. Through the many doors on stage, there is at least 10, you will find a mess of stairs or ladders that lead to the other doors. Then, after walking a while, you would come to the dining area and the kitchen. There are more stairs and ladders that lead to the bedrooms of the actors. The stars get single rooms while the others are set in larger rooms with groups of fours. Usually the rooms are decorated by the actors with memorabilia from their home county, or with their instruments.
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Posted: Sat Jul 21, 2007 5:03 pm
Snow stirred around in a bluster of flakes, creating an almost whirlwind on the stage. Quick spins and turns on the stage pulled up more and more snow into the air. It wasn't much help at all for the current task she was set to do, but it was fun none the less. Unfortunately the Sir had decided it was time to close the open roof, which meant no more early morning of playing with the scattered snow and frost from the stage and the floor. But that didn't mean the child would be sleeping in much either. As the snow landed once again on the stage, in an odd swirly patter, she began dusting it on to the floor. The sun should rise soon, hopefully, which would be followed by the snow melting, and people coming in.
Hums soon sprawled into the air, in a slow beat. It felt like a song she had heard before, but not one of this land. Her steps moved in beat to the song, though she managed to continue dusting of the snow in the process. At the end of her song, her dance, and her job, she turned to the audience and gave a deep bow. Over head a door slammed open, and she straightened up, peering over her shoulder. Immediately she caught site of the Sir, his small eyes narrowed in a glare. The glare always seemed to be there, never removed, unless it was during a performance, so the child continued to stare up at him, almost dumbly.
"Child!" he demanded, and she rushed to a side door without another word.
There were so many doors from the stage, but they all led to the same place, the living area. She rushed to meet the Sir at the bottom of the stairs. He continued walking forward at a quick pace, and she had to jog to keep up with him. All of a sudden, he stopped and turned to her, and she recoiled, spreading her arms out wide. Then he started ranting,
"The stage isn't prepared, one of the important actresses fell sick, we don't have enough supplies, one of the musicians father died, and breakfast wasn't prepared so one of the actors is throwing a fit!"
He took a deep breath, and was about to start again, when she put a finger to her mouth. Eying her dangerously, looking as if he were going to slam her head into the pillar behind her, she continued to stand defiantly.
He placed his large hand on her head gently, and turned it toward the kitchen.
"You have to help with breakfast, bring some up to the actor having a fit, get supplies, and be back here for the first performance. I'll do the rest."
She nodded her head vigorously, and padded her way over to the kitchen her bright orange boots made no sound because of the leather on the their bottoms. Greeting the cook with a warm smile and a bow, she looked up curiously.
"Ah, good. Even though he forces you to do so much, it is always nice to see your smiling face, Myrrh. Now, would you check the eggs, please."
The cook was one of the few people to actually call her by her name, and use manners with her. Myrrh always felt warmth boil up in her heart whenever she was in the kitchen, and it was not because of the stove.
Breakfast went without a hitch, and Myrrh bowed deeply to the woman before grabbing a large helping of it, and heading up the stairs. She knocked a couple times on the door, before twisting open the door knob. The actor was posing in the mirror, and jumped quite high when he spotted Myrrh at the door. He gave her annoyed look, casting a look over her being. A red top hat, a red scarf tied around her wast, a green sleeveless turtleneck over top of a brown dress that looked much to baggy, white leggings, two socks and neither matched, and her bright orange boots. He laughed, strode over, and grabbed the breakfast. After patting Myrrh on the head a couple times as he tired to swallow his first large bite, he managed a,
"You're always good for a hearty laugh in the morning, Harley."
Myrrh didn't understand thank nickname, but bowed out of respect to his statement, before bounding out of his room.
A flip from the second story, and she landed steadily on her feet. There was a handful of other people who had waken with the call of breakfast and had made their way downstairs, and she received a scattered applause. She grinned and gave them all a hearty, flourishing bow. The Sir stepped forward, and straightened her up.
"Don't get a big head, or I'll have to chop it off," he said with a chuckle, as he handed her a list, "Be quick about it, ya hear?"
"Oui. Moi understands. Myrrh understands!"
Her accent was thicker then Sir's skull, but after two years of living with her, he understood that she understood. There had once been an attempt to teach her how to speak their language, but such attempt failed. She still spoke in third person, she still spoke with the harsh accent, and she still popped in those odd words.
"Off with you then. And don't be late."
Myrrh grinned, noting that he was still worried. Their first performance wasn't for three hours. Unless something extremely drastic happened, there was no way she would be late. Especially with this performance. This performance she finally had a fairly important role, with more then one line. A mythical creature servant to the antagonist to the play. She ever had her own custom outfit and everything, even though she didn't like it as much as she liked todays, she would bear with it none the less. Myrrh grabbed her bag from a post, and deposited the money and the list into it, double checking that everything was in there. After a quick stretch, she stepped out the back door, heading to the alleyways, and then to one of the stores that supplied them.
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