The Phantom's Opera
Go Back   The Phantom's Opera » Grand Stage Productions » The Paris Opera House » Le Moulin Rouge
Remember Me?

Reply
Viewing Thread: 1 [0 Performers and 1 Ghosts]
Thread Tools Search this Thread
 

Name: Erica | Gender: woman- hear me roar! | Posts: 2,032 | Roses: 181
Old 10-20-2010 at 08:45 PM
WanderingChild<3

House Patron
Does anyone write anymore?

WanderingChild<3's Avatar


Roaming Dungeons
(Performer Is Offline)
Rouge Stage / Dance Floor  Post [1] »




R O U G E
S T A G E


Where the magic happens.






D A N C E
F L O O R


Get jiggy with it.



  • No spamming and follow proper RPG rules.
  • For the time being you may be in more than one thread at a time.
  • When this thread reaches 200, a moderator will start the new thread.
  • Snazz it up!


<b>WanderingChild<3</b>'s Profile Send Private Message Search Posts Reply With Quote

Name: Natalia | Gender: Female | Posts: 2,742 | Roses: 50
Old 11-24-2010 at 03:37 AM
witch
Wandering Child
Lost,Alone,Unknown

witch's Avatar


Roaming Dungeons
(Performer Is Offline)
 Post [2] »


OCC: For Evea and Myron
Evea Perry


Evea was nervous, how could she not be when it was just like being interviewed for your first job all over again?

Since coming back to Paris after facing her past Evea felt like she could finally branch out, not having to hide so much anymore calling on the talents she had longed to put out. This didn't mean that she had given up being a reporter or a photographer, no, it meant that she might be the one being interviewed for a change if all went well.

Having been to Le Rouge a few times before it had changed Evea was now wondering what the place would be like. She had gotten used to the ideas of how things were run the people and the acts but now having set up an appointment with Toddy St. James to meet the new owner Evea had her doubts.

The stage was beautiful as it had always been the lights, though now off, had never shone on her and the spot light... Evea had been in her fair shear of spot lights but those of a different kind.

"I don't know if I can do this" she breathed to herself her outer shell falling apart. "Maybe this is a mistake."

But thoughts of changing her mind had come too late for already, just out the corner of her beep blue eyes she thought she saw someone coming.


witch's Profile Send Private Message Search Posts Reply With Quote

Name: Erica | Gender: woman- hear me roar! | Posts: 2,032 | Roses: 181
Old 12-18-2010 at 02:28 AM
WanderingChild<3

House Patron
Does anyone write anymore?

WanderingChild<3's Avatar


Roaming Dungeons
(Performer Is Offline)
 Post [3] »


ooc: Apologies for the late reply!


Myron Bolitar

For Christ's sake, please don't sing On My Own... please, Lord Jesus, do not sing Own My Own, or she will just be, on her own ...

Myron Bolitar didn't know who was next, who the person was, or even what time of day it was; all he knew, that if one more hopeful, dumb, wide-eyed, "Oh Mister Bolitar, I just loooove what you've done with the Rouge, and your suit" who sang that damned On My Own song, from that stupid ass show- what was it even called? Les' Miserable... Yeah. It was making him Miserable, that was obvious. Seriously. There were about a million Broadway show tunes out there, just waiting to be sung. But, nooo, let us all pick the one heart wrenching song, that all us girls will just stare into the spotlight to make our eyes water, so it looks like we're really feeling the song. Pathetic. Seriously, what was this call coming too? Where the hell was the Advil? Hell, where was the vodka?

"Myron..." Toddy whispered from the row behind him in the audience, pointing up to the stage. He looked to see that his fellow co-workers mouth was hung open pretty wide, his eyes enthused at what was going on, onstage. It was Toddy though. Probably the Spanish stagehand-

Myron's jaw unhinged a little bit. His eyes were focused on two round things, and they weren't the eyes of the girl standing onstage. Unfortunately, well- pervertedly- they were on the round things just, on her chest. Not to sound like those types of men who were perverted, and didn't think it- but she was asking for it. Seriously, a top like that? Seriously, her tatas were begging to be looked at. Myron was obliging, but feeling rather gross the entire time. He left rocking the cradle to his dear friend, Santiago. Plus, he was a taken man. He swallowed, feeling a gross taste in his mouth. Seriously. She was wearing that at an audition?

"Work it girl." The gay man behind him said, with a snap to finish it off.

Toddy, ladies and gentlemen. What was up with gay men and their infatuation with boobies?

A less enthused Myron shook his head, "What it looks like she is working for, are singles." He snapped, grabbing his clipboard, and hearing Toddy throw a gasping grunt tantrum. "Who the hell is she anyway?" He asked out loud, scanning down to the number she was. He was slightly offended. Not to be a baby about it; they were breasts for Christ sake, not demonic snakes biting at him. It just, didn't seem professional. "Evea Perry..." He murmured, looking back up onstage. Evea, with the hanging out boobs, looked... well, she looked nervous. Not the expression he would imagine that would be matching that outfit.

A fruity hand grabbed at his shoulder. "See, though?" He chuckled like he had just won a bet. "The babydoll got your attention."

Myron's mouth twitched into a smirk, his eyes examining this Evea Perry, and the clipboard mindlessly dropping into his lap. "That, she did." So, this Evea did know how to work a casting call, did she now? That was such a ... Well, a Madeleine move. Hell, that was a Myron move. They knew what they had, and they flaunted it. The costumes at the Rouge were barely anything; this just showed him, this girl, could pull it off. Now, if she sang On My Own, then it would just be a deal breaker.

Hmmm ...

Myron was on the fence.

"Toddy," He began, spinning around in his seat. "Do you think-"

"I don't know if I can do this..."

Myron's eyes snapped back to the stage. The whisper echoed throughout the room, as he watched Evea shake in spot onstage, breathing, and not really knowing that... the microphones up above were turned on. He watched her carefully. She didn't look confident at all, like she had moments ago. Hell, she looked like she was going to faint. Suddenly, he began feeling nervous. He could remember being in that same exact spot she was in just years ago. Feeling the way she was feeling, only, expressing it very much just on the inside. Maybe Evea Perry should try that out too?

"Maybe this is a mistake."

The casting Director was out of the room, and Myron Bolitar the performer, pressed the microphone button on the table, speaking into it, "Honey, show business is a mistake." He smirked, and his voice smirked too. "Which makes all us performers so incredibly demented." Myron never spoke into the microphone to the performers when they auditioned. It made him feel all, Chorus Line audition person strict, but something about this moment, seemed... nice. He wasn't going to be her best friend, but he did not want to be her worst enemy either. Myron knew what it was like up there.

"Microphones are on, sugar!" Toddy shouted out onstage to her, explaining just why they could all hear her.


<b>WanderingChild<3</b>'s Profile Send Private Message Search Posts Reply With Quote

Name: Natalia | Gender: Female | Posts: 2,742 | Roses: 50
Old 12-18-2010 at 03:44 AM
witch
Wandering Child
Lost,Alone,Unknown

witch's Avatar


Roaming Dungeons
(Performer Is Offline)
 Post [4] »


Evea Perry

Anastasiya, a name that meant she'd rise again, out of the darkness and into the spotlight but the darkness had been her friend for so long and her face... it had been hidden for longer.

As Evea had walked out onto the stage she heard the whispers, felt the eyes as if everyone was there to judge her and they were. Already she felt like she was being judged wrong the whispers and eyes coming together.

She had dressed in something that she felt gave off both sides of herself, the "Vixen" as Evrard had clamed her and the calm, cool reporter... why couldn't she bring that attribute out of hidding?

For a short moment she (after her mumbled undertones) felt the eyes of someone looking right at her, someone important but his eyes she suddenly realized, like any mans was not on her face.

"You'll see" she breathed to herself.

Tried was she of being the pretty face and words, tried of hiding... but that didn't stop the butterflies or her words from filling the room.

"Honey, show business is a mistake."

Golden coloured eyebrowns suddenly lowered, a male voice cutting into her own little world instead bringing her out from under the warm blanket and into a hells fire.

"Which makes all us performers so incredibly demented."

A tiny smile played upon her face, the mans words seeming to brake the ice, however it still seemed to want to swollow her. She didn't know him... they didn't know her.

"Microphones are on, sugar!"

For a long seeming moment everyone seemed to wait, even Evea herself. Her chest rose and fell and her heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest but suddenly her mouth open.

"You think that I can't live without your love,
You'll see."

She started her voice low but enough to be heard before rising a little on the next line.

"You think that I can't go on another day.
You think I have nothing without you by my side"

And on she went power passion within every lifting note until it took her over, for after all this song was her story.

The pain, the panic, every word was true her face told so the watered eyes revealed it until she came down to her last note where her voice slowly faed away unlike the goosebumps she hoped she had left on the people around her.


witch's Profile Send Private Message Search Posts Reply With Quote

Name: Erica | Gender: woman- hear me roar! | Posts: 2,032 | Roses: 181
Old 12-30-2010 at 09:05 AM
WanderingChild<3

House Patron
Does anyone write anymore?

WanderingChild<3's Avatar


Roaming Dungeons
(Performer Is Offline)
 Post [5] »


Myron Bolitar

No. Wit.

“Myron!” Myron Bolitar felt a homosexual slap, which cannot really be defined as an actual slap, from behind. “You cannot seriously write that as one of her critiques.” Toddy St. James whispered to him, looking past his shoulder at the girl’s resume Myron jotted on.

Myron waved him off. “She said nothing back to me!” He huffed, looking back onstage as the woman prepared her piece. “My wit is not to be wasted on.”

Toddy rolled his eyes, leaning back into his seat. “Oh boo-hoo. We can’t all be ridiculous like you, Bolitar.”

“Go to hell, ya’ fruit!” Myron seethed in a whisper, inwardly grinning at these banters he lived for. Just like the old college days. Except, well, this was highly unprofessional. The woman onstage had every right to throw a tantrum about disrespect. Well, if she did that, she could consider herself incredibly womanly and standing up for her performing rights- but also, without a job.

“Already there, baby doll.” Myron’s fruity friend, who really had no place being in the auditions, spread out his arm. “In this crimson clashing seat cushioned hell!”

The Rouge owner clicked his pen, “Well-“

But a voice stopped his upcoming sass. A voice, that pretty much took a hold of the Rouge in one great note. The voice, that Myron Bolitar could not believe he was hearing from this woman. His eyes stared, and his mouth froze. Huh. Well, who would have thought the Lord Christ could match big boobs with a big voice? The voice was powerful. It was booming. It was something, Myron had heard before. He wasn’t just being that casting director that was all, ‘I’ve been there, seen that, I’m going to wiggle my nose high in the air, make you kiss my ass, and kick you to the curb without acting impressed’, because he was impressed. This woman obviously had a voice. Hell, it stopped a Myron and Toddy argument. That said a lot. It wasn’t as if she were just singing either. She was actually feeling it. His chest swelled, and his eyes watched her carefully. Now that he had gotten past the shock of her voice, he was now nit picking on everything. The acting seemed a little forced, but nothing major that a few rehearsals couldn’t fix. Her wardrobe needed much changing if she were publicly going to represent the Rouge. Her voice needed to be sometimes honed in. But those were compliments. They were compliments because she had gotten Myron Bolitar to the point, of him breaking down her. To the point, where he actually cared, and was carefully planning on how she would be the best Rouge girl, because as far as he was hearing- she had all the potential. He just, didn’t like the blown away look or mindset. His feeling was to always be harsh on the performers, or they’ll never get good. Christ, their egos were big enough.
When she was finished, Toddy began clapping.

Myron Bolitar stared hard at her for a long moment, smacking his lips together. Then, he set down his notepad on the seat next to him, and began walking up to the stage. Something, he didn’t do.

Once he was in front of the stage, he folded his arms, staring up at her hard. Myron Bolitar was willing to hire her at the moment as a chorus girl. He didn’t want to throw her into the principle yet, but she really didn’t deserve anything less than chorus for the time being. Which, chorus at the Rouge, was probably one of the best spots. Still, he wanted to make sure, that he was doing the right thing.

“Tell me,” Myron began, pacing a round, and then turning back to her. “How bad do you want this?”


<b>WanderingChild<3</b>'s Profile Send Private Message Search Posts Reply With Quote

Name: Natalia | Gender: Female | Posts: 2,742 | Roses: 50
Old 12-30-2010 at 10:57 AM
witch
Wandering Child
Lost,Alone,Unknown

witch's Avatar


Roaming Dungeons
(Performer Is Offline)
 Post [6] »


Evea Perry

Out of the darkness and into the light, out of sorrows to now burn bright. That had been Evea's moto for so long now it had almost lost all meaning but as she sang the words finally made sense.

She knew that the owner had spoken to her and it was all she could do to smile softly. The nerves were building, she wasn't used to being on stage... hadn't that been the reason he had spocken to her in the first place? He could see just how much of a quivering mess she was?

Still saying nothing seemed to make him jot down something, her eyes picked up the pen flying across what was no doubt her fate pushing that aside she couldn't push down the feelings that suddenly came up.

Maybe it was a fact of 'now or never' or like the line in the song 'you'll see' but suddenly Evea's voice lifted. For a long moment her eyes closed, every breath, every word meaningful to a point that these people would never understand... how could they? But they knew something she didn't, they knew what they were looking for.

In the back of her mind Evea could feel the shivers and chills running over herself her eyes coming open for a moment before tears filled them maybe it was to much, she didn't know. Could they see this wasn't an act, that nothing was forced? She didn't have time to think, at least not until she had finished.

Clapping, wasn't that a good sign or were they simply taking pity on her? Evea's blue eyes landed and followed as Myron... that was his name? came up to the stage.

It seemed then that it was a match of wit, his eyes seeming to burn into her as he circled her with crossed arms.

“Tell me,” the voice suddenly broke the silence. “How bad do you want this?”

She knew ths question was coming, it was a question she herself had asked but in truth she could never come up with an answer. He was waiting and no doubt he had heard the whole long lines of 'you don't know how much. I've worked my whole life for this...' looking at him straight in the eye Evea finally said.

"More then life itself."

Growing up she hadn't gotten to feel the spotlight or any light for that matter, to be able to shear her voice, her passion to maybe be able to show people that Evea Perry understood the hardships of life, had been through them and come out the other side. Myron didn't need to hear all that, but still she bit her lip and let out a breath.

"The truth is, I've been wanting to at least get this far for so long. To feel the spot light, to sing for one briff moment in time to stop being the sillent bird in the cage, to live a dream even if it has to end here. I'll work hard and that's all I can tell you, but... it is up to you either I wake up from a dream and live it, or I just go back to dreaming."


witch's Profile Send Private Message Search Posts Reply With Quote

Name: Cassie | Gender: Señorita | Posts: 4,083 | Roses: 185
Old 02-07-2011 at 06:40 AM
Mrs Nadir Khan
Wandering Child
House Patron
Slave to my Inspiration

Mrs Nadir Khan's Avatar


Roaming Dungeons
(Performer Is Offline)
 Post [7] »


Madeleine de Chandon

Madeleine was plenty aware of the ring on her finger. It was this huge, sparkling rock. She looked at it every morning with mixed materialistic awe and love for the man who’d put it there. But just because Madeleine de Chandon was engaged to Myron Bolitar, did not mean her eyes had fallen out of her sockets. She had every right to scope out attractive people. And now, hiding in the Moulin Rouge’s balcony with Ashton, scoping was exactly what she was doing.

The girl beside her was scope-worthy. In this little “Hot-or-Not” game of theirs, Madeleine would have given Ashton a stamp of approval. The slim blonde had big eyes, a big voice, and a piece of ass Rouge patrons salivated for. She was bubbly, funny, and perfectly scandalous. The main reason Madeleine picked Ashton out of the bland, blonde bunch of Rouge girls was because of a confession Ashton had made that Mad accidentally overheard. Ashton had a yen for her fiancée’s daddy. It was enough to make Madeleine raise her perfectly manicured brows and go, “Ooh la la”. Madeleine, who’d bedded dozens of men and women in her thirty-three years on earth, had never heard of anything quite like Ashton’s inappropriate infatuation. But what she did know, was that risqué love affairs was a hobby of hers. Ashton Greene might in ten, fifteen years time be the next Madeleine de Chandon. Coming from Madeleine de Chandon herself, that was a big compliment.

She picked up her wine glass and looked out at the sea of patrons below. On their night off, Ashton and Madeleine were taking advantage of their free alcohol benefits provided by the Rouge’s open bar and gossiping like silly school girls.

“Okay, so… nine o’clock, second row,” Madeleine said, pointing her glass in a man’s direction. “Hot or not?”
Mrs Nadir Khan's Profile Send Private Message Search Posts Reply With Quote

Name: (Ch)Rissy/Riss | Gender: Goddess | Posts: 4,070 | Roses: 100
Old 02-07-2011 at 07:06 AM
masquerading rose
Wandering Child
House Patron
Crayon Queen



Roaming Dungeons
(Performer Is Offline)
 Post [8] »


Ashton Greene

The after affects of the night at the jazz club still hadn’t worn off. In fact, Ashton had a new found confidence about her. She felt as if she could take on the world. She called up Dr. Allard’s office and told her, very frankly, that she didn’t need her surgery and was far more beautiful naturally than anything her PhD could send from the operating table. Ashton felt rejuvenated, renewed. She still couldn’t ride the subway, but Lucian lived within walking distance to the Rouge.

Lucian’s house seemed homier, more filled with life. They greeted each other in the morning the way they usually did, with an added peck on the cheek. They held hands over morning tea and then she kissed him good bye as she left for work.

Today wasn’t so much a working day as it was a hang out with Madeleine day. The leading lady of the Rouge and Ashton had a friendship growing. It was small, but it was fun. Together, they gossiped, got their nails done… They did all the girly things Ashton had missed when she lost contact with her college friends. In fact, the only college friend she kept in touch with still was Zackery, and Mr. Rocker with a Mohawk wasn’t really into gossiping and nail painting. Ashton was thankful for Madeleine and their little ‘hot or not’ game.

“Okay, so… nine o’clock, second row. Hot or not?”

Ashton could never tell where these invisible numbers were. Was she facing twelve, or was twelve behind her? She followed Madeleine’s finger with her eyes.

“Hot,” Ashton said, “if you’re a female ostrich during mating season!” Ashton said, noting the man’s long neck, beady eyes, long, beak like nose and short, wing like arms.

This game was so terrible, but oh, so much fun. Ashton couldn’t stop.

She pointed to a man in the fifth row, playing with his wine glass. If Ashton was facing twelve, he was two o’clock. “Him. Hot or not?”


If I can't hear the music, and the audience is gone,

I'll dance here on my own.


Banners by Rose, my sister, and me.
masquerading rose's Profile Send Private Message masquerading rose's Website Search Posts Reply With Quote

Name: Cassie | Gender: Señorita | Posts: 4,083 | Roses: 185
Old 02-07-2011 at 04:58 PM
Mrs Nadir Khan
Wandering Child
House Patron
Slave to my Inspiration

Mrs Nadir Khan's Avatar


Roaming Dungeons
(Performer Is Offline)
 Post [9] »


OOC : Dear Pandora, thank you for playing Ke$ha while I write Madeleine. Much love, Me. BIC:

Madeleine de Chandon

Madeleine brought her wine glass to her lips. You actually learned a lot about a gal after a round of “Hot or Not”. Especially Rouge girls. You learned which ones had standards, which ones were sluts, and which ones were actually prudes. Madeleine studied the man she’d pointed out to Ashton. There was only one answer—

“Hot.”

-- And that wasn’t it. Madeleine lowered her wine glass and cocked an eyebrow at Ashton. Was she blind? Stupid? Easy?

“If you’re a female ostrich during mating season!”

Madeleine chuckled. For a minute, she’d actually been worried about Ashton’s taste levels. Still smirking, Madeleine took a sip from her wine glass. The guy really did look like an ostrich—minus the feathers.

Actually, Madeleine thought, setting down her drink. Feathers might be an improvement.

A former Rouge girl herself, Madeleine knew what kind of creeps her dancers had to put up with. The ugly, the unloved, the untouched… It was their job to make them feel less lonely by giving them a show. But as a television program wiser than Madeleine once said: It’s all about the teasing and not about the pleasing. She didn’t care if her girls broke that rule—she did—but for a guy like Ostrich Man? He’d better be filthy rich, a libido to shame Casanova, and a personality that dictated he treat his girl better than a queen. … Yeah. The chances of that combination were slim to none.

“Him.,” Ashton said, point out to the audience. “Hot or not?”

Madeleine looked to see an average looking man in the fifth row. He was young—maybe in his mid or late twenties. His blonde-brown hair was a mess, but it was perfect for raking fingers through. His build was slim—maybe too slim. His shoulders slumped moodily and Madeleine thought he looked a lot like the sort of artist-y bad boy she would have gone for at seventeen or eighteen just to spite her mother.

“If I was a few years younger… “Hot”,” Madeleine said thoughtfully, “But I’ve seen better.”

Again, Madeleine’s brown eyes wandered to the crowd. She saw a couple familiar faces in tonight’s crowd. A few performers’ boyfriends that were regulars sat in their usual spots. A group of elderly gentlemen leered at the girls on stage now from their box seats. Then there were the middle agers. Madeleine had seen which ones were unfaithful husbands fooling around with her dancers backstage. Others, she knew, were unwed libertines. Some, midlife crisis men tried desperately to feel alive again. And then there was the man sitting alone at his dining table.

Madeleine had seen him a dozen times in the last few months. The first time he showed up, he looked like a total slob. He was downing drink after drink. It was almost as much alcohol as Madeleine would have consumed in her alcoholic days. In two months time, the man had cleaned up. The drinking got less and less. A single glass of wine—half consumed—sat on his table. He sat up straight, but comfortably. His dark hair was cropped close to his head—although, if Madeleine had been his hairstylist, she would have shaved it all off before he lost the embarrassing battle he fought with time. His shoulders were wide, but not overly muscular. He was thoroughly average in Madeleine’s book. Maybe even a “not”. His thinning hair and overlarge nose were definite detractors. His lips—thin, long, and bow shaped—were drawn into a line of thought tonight and it only increased the lines and shadows on his aging face. There was a sophisticated air about him that had been steadily increasing over the past few months. And, cocking her head, Madeleine supposed that his clothes bespoke of wealth. Gone were his sloppy sweaters of past months. Instead, his collar was crisp and his suit jacket neatly pressed. If Madeleine’s eye for fashion could be trusted, it was actually Armani. His posturing oozed confidence—which was new. Maybe “hot”. But barely. Madeleine nodded at him.

“The guy at table four,” she said. “Hot or not?”
Mrs Nadir Khan's Profile Send Private Message Search Posts Reply With Quote

Name: (Ch)Rissy/Riss | Gender: Goddess | Posts: 4,070 | Roses: 100
Old 02-08-2011 at 05:34 AM
masquerading rose
Wandering Child
House Patron
Crayon Queen



Roaming Dungeons
(Performer Is Offline)
 Post [10] »


Ashton Greene

Ashton sipped her champagne as her feet dangled off the catwalk freely. She interlocked her toes and felt like a little kid. In comparison to Lucian, she supposed she was. In comparison to Madeleine, she supposed she was. But it felt good to not have to be an adult sometimes. It felt good to be carefree. That was something she would have to teach Lucian.

“If I was a few years younger… “Hot”. But I’ve seen better.”

Honestly, Ashton couldn’t care less about the hot people in the hot or not game. The not ones weren’t fun to pay attention to, either. Ashton had felt like the “not”’s, unloved and lonely. Making fun of them wasn’t as much fun as it seemed. She took another sip form her champagne glass.

“The guy at table four. “Hot or not?”

Ashton’s eyes, like hazel magnets were drawn immediately to where Madeleine indicated. Not that she needed help, her eyes could pick Lucian out from a crowd any day. She smiled widely at him, leaning her head on her hand that clung tightly to the railing. “Hot,” she said with a small chuckle. “Definitely hot.”

Personally, ‘hot’ wasn’t what she wanted to use. ‘Handsome’, ‘incredible’, ‘magnificent’, all seemed to suit him better. But for the sake of the game, ‘hot’ would do just fine.


If I can't hear the music, and the audience is gone,

I'll dance here on my own.


Banners by Rose, my sister, and me.
masquerading rose's Profile Send Private Message masquerading rose's Website Search Posts Reply With Quote
Reply


Thread Tools Search this Thread
Search this Thread:
 
Advanced Search
Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.4
Copyright ©2017, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
Contact Us - Archive - Top