Humpty Dumpty {Open}

[Reala]

The glorious stage of the opera house was full of life tonight. Actors, actresses, dancers, painters, and seamstresses were running left and right, making the stage and it’s secret wings and backrooms flooded with a sea of bodies. Amongst this constant current was a solitary stagehand. Her red hair was gathered and tied between her shoulder blades by a thin string of ribbon. She donned on a men’s blouse that was a tad to large on her seeing how it limply hung from her body, cloaking all her feminine attributes underneath a mess of fabric. She also sported dark trousers and her knee-high boots were laced to their tightest.

Hazel eyes glistened with amusement as they followed whatever quick movement caught her eye. In many ways, she appeared to be a cat. Perched on top of a wayward scene prop, she almost appeared to be lurking behind the painted clouds and stars of the sturdy wooden piece. She did nothing but observe, propping her elbows upon her knees and leaning forward as far as she dared so. If she had a tail or ears, they would flicker with delight as seeing how she thought the opera was always at its peak when it was the busiest.

But why was she the only one not working on something, you ask?

Simple: Reala was nothing more but a lass who lived in the ‘heaven’ of the stage. All the ropes were properly tied-she had already checked every knot twice before the first actor had arrived-and all the set backgrounds were already rigged to be used at a moment’s notice. As far as she was concerned, her job was already done until the night of the performance drew closer. Thus, she had perched herself on the lonely prop for the last couple of days, watching with curious wonder as the people of the opera practiced and prepared for another full house performance.

Heaving a whimsical sigh, Reala shifter her weight so that she could restore feeling to her legs again. However, as her hands brushed against the wood of her perch, a sliver lodged itself in her finger. The small prick was so unexpected that it caused her to jump…and go tumbling down……and take the prop hurdling with her.

It all happened so fast that the first words that she mumbled after hitting the polished wood ground with a ‘thump’ were, “Why am I on the floor?” as she stared up at the rafters that appeared a tad closer only seconds ago.

[Lunarskys]

Cerise was back stage because they wouldn't miss her with everything going on to get ready for the up coming play. She was dressed in a very simple dress that she could wear since she wasn't always standing in public, but it had that distinc design of the Opera. Any time she was in public buy something for a chore, people knew she came from the Opera. She was a pageboy, you wouldn't think they would notice her, but because of what she was suppose to wear they did. That was when she heard a creaking and two falling shapes. It was a prop! This would set the Opera back so she had to help with this, but the other thing that had fallen with a thump was a person. The person looked like a guy with red hair tied up, but as she got closer, she could see that the face was one of a women.

Cerise's black hair was up in a bun so it wouldn't get in the way as she worked, she ran up to the figure as fast as she could through the people who was getting ready and those that stopped and those that cursed about the set back and the person that was hurt. Cerise hoped the person wasn't dead. As she got there she heard the girl mutter, asking why she was on the floor. She kneeled down close to the women that had fallen. She looked older than 17 year old Cerise Demi.

"Are you ok Madam? You fell and the prop fell with you," she said to the women. Her hand pushing back the stray hairs that had fallen in front of her face. "Can you get up ma'am?" she asked as well later on. That fall had sounded bad, this Miss could have broken something or worst.

[Reala]

At first, Reala heard the mutters of curses, the sweet whispers of surprise, and the rhythmic sound of footsteps as the bodies of the opera went on their way. She gave a small huff and found herself slightly amused at the fact that her irritated exhale made the strands of hair that fell loose from the fall dance under her command. These few seconds where she just enjoyed a small simplicity of life were relished, not because she found particular beauty in small things…but because she couldn’t felt he rest of her body at the moment.

"Are you ok Madam? You fell and the prop fell with you,"

Reala tiled her head back to spot a young lass that looked very sincere. She looked terribly fair, what with her hair tucked away in a bun like that and how her hand brushed her brow. It was no wonder she was worried, the lass probably never fell out of a tree or anything of the sort. Then it was completely understandable at the concerned look that was so honest upon her face. Reala mentally scolded herself for thing on nothing but assumptions and decided to return the kindness that was offered back ten fold. She was, after all, the only person to run to her aid.

“Ah, Madame Demi.”Reala had always made a point to remember everyone’s name. Seeing how she was the loyal pageboy, hers was not one to easily forget. “Your concern is flattering, but not necessary.”

A smile was then offered for comfort as our little troublemaker then rose to her feet, picked up the steady piece of wood and dusted it off. It was not really dirty, but, seeing how this was a building for dramatics, Reala thought the action suited the situation just fine.

Evaluating the prop with a steady eye, Reala concluded that all it needed was a little touching up, and then it’ll be just fine. However, even though her confidence in the recovery of the prop was profound, she found herself shrinking slightly at the numerous glares she was victim of. She needed to leave the stage for a while and come back when some tempers have been cooled.

“Never the less, I must repay you for your emotional troubles. Come! We’ll go and have ourselves a good cup of tea and indulge ourselves in some conversation, hm?”

And with that, Reala gently grabbed the pageboy’s arm and lead her away from the scene of her accident…perhaps with a little more haste then necessary.

[Lunarskys]

She watched as the Miss blew a few strands of hair and then responded to her question. She didn't sound like she hurt too badly, maybe it was Cerise's inexperiance with matters of injuries. A few others were taking glances and muttered about the scene, but one thing that she could notice was how she heard the pace of the others quicken slightly. Were they worried that this might set them back some, or more likely the question was, were they just naturally more jumpy after this type of incident? As the Miss tilted her head back she saw a look that meant this miss knew her. She felt slightly embarressed that she didn't know this miss, but she hardly ever needed to know someone.

The miss's talk was very kind and she smiled though still not completely pleased even with the smile. As the woman got up Cerise was there by her side in case she needed help but she was fine. The woman looked over the prop carefully and Cerise watched with interest as she did. Cerise was interested in everything that wasn't doing errands or delivering messages for the Opera.

"Um," was all she could mutter quietly as the miss pulled her gentley and lead her from the scene they had created. A pageboy going to help a member to keep things running was acceptable, but a member falling like that was gonna hear something from someone. No wonder the miss would want to be else where. She followed, making it easy for the woman to lead her, it was a somewhat quicker pace than needed, but that was understandable.

Maybe she too easily trusted people, but that was one of the things that the Opera had accepted, making her a job here even though she almost came from out of the blue. Her hair in her bun had a few stray hairs from it now, but she didn't mind. She hated wearing tight buns anyways, but she had to wear it today, it had been her time to be check that she was still doing her job. She just wanted it in a dead ponytail, barely gathered by rubber bands or what ever. She wanted to ask where they were going, but she still shrank away from the thought because she wasn't ready to break the silence. She was still sorry she didn't know this person's name, first or last, but the firey red hair will remind her in the future should she learn it.

[Reala]

Reala lead her through a few hallways that slowly became thinner and more confined. Although the floors were still polished, it was easy to tell that they weren’t as abused by people’s heels in comparison to the hallways that hugged the front of the building more closely. By this point, Reala had released the Madame’s arm and faithful on nothing but assurance alone that the young woman was still following in her tracks. There were a few times where Reala slowed her pace, her eyes scanning the passageways before her, but it only lasted a second or two. When she was sure of her direction, she gave a little huff and walked in that confident style that was known to her. After taking a few more steps, she pivoted on her heel and climbed up a flight of stairs that lead to the upper confines of the opera. Here, there were residences that were occupied with elderly couples that have lived in the opera house since birth. As one could guess, they don’t receive much company…that was probably why the new face caused such abuzz.

“Please, Mme and M. Depaul, there’s no need to be so nosey. Ah, yes, Madame Fournier, company is nice to have. No, Monsieur Bertrand, I have not forgotten to get you some bread at the bakery for you dinner tonight..”

Such small comments went on as Reala place a smile upon her face, greeting every elderly person here by name. All the while, she place a hand on the small of her back and discreetly signaled for Cerise to enter into one of the rooms that had the door slightly open. Once the lass was inside, Reala would back up pleasantly into the space until she was able to grab the door and close it with a flourish.

“Pardon the neighbours, Madame. They are a nosey as they are old.” She laughed, crossing the small space to pour some water into a kettle.

The space, itself, was not much to speak about. It had one small bed tucked away in a corner, in the opposite corner was a wood stove that looked used over the years. Hanging above it were some pots, pans, and spoons. In the center was a large carpet; the thread bare to almost naught and on top of it sat the wooden table, complete with three wooden chairs. On the wall to the left sat a cupboard of plates and bowls. And, tucked away in the farthest wall sat a shelf, on it a fiddle and bow.

“Please, make yourself at home.” Reala stated, starting the fire up.

[Lunarskys]

She walked behind the woman quietly as they went through hallways that became narrower slowly and not as worn, but polished as the Opera all ways was. She was one that sometimes did the polishing, though she hadn't been here yet. There was much of the Opera she hadn't been to because she just knew the basics of it for her job. A few times the madame in front of her paused briefly before going on in a walk that was confident. Her's was more docile, and her foot steps were quiet on the floor, clinking and tapping dully. She followed the miss up the stairs to the higher levels of the Opera and hoped that one pageboy wasn't need at the time. Most likely not, but she had only been on the job for a bit.

As they traveled along she was startled at first at the noise that she had caused. The elderly asking questions, wanting current gossip, and a few comments to the madame about different subjects. Cerise nodded hi and said hello to those that spoke to her, but not saying more than the simple welcomes. As the mistress gave a subtle hint behind her back to go into a slightly open room. Cerise gave a smile at the elderly people and then backed into the room swiftly, the mistress coming in soon after.

She heard the miss talk about the elderly and laughed softly too. She could understand that elderly people varied in how their minds would still work. Though since these elderly people were with the Opera since birth almost, they had acted better than some others would. She looked around the somewhat small room. It seemed an awfully lot like her own room, though her's was else where in the Opera. What caught her eye was on the farthest wall. A fiddle with it's bow.

After looking away from the fiddle she went over and sat down on one of the three wooden chairs. "Thank you. You have a very nice fiddle," she said with a quiet touch to her voice. It was because of suddenly meeting someone and they taking her someplace new in the Opera probably. Her hair struggled against her bun even though it was flat. That was one reason she didn't like buns, her hair didn't either.

Cerise took down her hair, letting it fall across her shoulders and back limp. Then she put it into a loose ponytail with a few strands hanging from each side of her face slightly curled at the ends because of the bun they had been in. She didn't like the tight look of some ponytails. She wondered what was happening since they left backstage. It must still be buzzing a bit of the stagehand that had fallen, taking the prop with her. Two performances have pasted and another one staged for in a few hours. She hadn't seen any of them because of certain reasons though.

[Reala]

"Thank you. You have a very nice fiddle,"

It was like the comment had dragged the sun from it’s blue sky and dragged it into the room. Reala propped her hands on her hips and whipped herself around to gaze at her fiddle proudly. It appeared almost as if the sun’s radiant rays emitted from Reala’s every pore and glistened on her fiddle only. Yet, even though her pride and excitement was as bold and loud as a drum’s mighty beat, she said nothing. Her glance was returned back to her kettle as she dropped in two tea bags into the hot water and waited for it to steep. While she tried her best to be calm, standing with shoulders slumped and weight shifter to one leg, there was no hope in concealing the exited air that buzzed around her like the loud humming of a thousand bees.

One the tea was ready, she brought the kettle to the table and sat it on the cloth, she politely apologized for the lack of a tea pot- why would a stage hand need a teapot all the way up here, anyways?- and then grabbed two cups and placed them in their appropriate spots. She then sat in the chair, poured herself a cup of tea and added some milk and honey. There was an awkward silence that filled the room, yet Reala refused to break it. She took a small sip swallowed it down and paused. Her hands were clasped in her lap and her eyes were downcast, almost as if she were contemplating something.

She silence ended when Reala jumped up as if she were struck by a bolt of lighting.

“Ah yes, it’s a beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?” she sighed, her longing gaze returned back to her faithful companion. “Would you like to hear a song?”

Yet, the Irish lass left no room for an answer for she had already crossed the length of the room, picked up the fiddle and was plucking at the strings for tuning. She then drew in a brew and released it as she pulled her bow across the bridge. She then started to play the Irish tune ‘Cliffs of Moher’.

"Feel free to dance if you wish." she laughed merrily over the tune, her eyes alight with joy and amusement.

[Lunarskys]

After she had complimented the fiddle the woman had, it was like excitment and energy radiated from the madame as she turned around with her hands on her hips. Though it emitted from the woman, it shown on the fiddle. It certainly was a well loved fiddle, Cerise could see it even from here that it was. The woman turned to drop two tea bags into the kettle and wait, though it was obvious that she was excited. It seemed that she had hit the right button mentioning that fiddle. She liked musical insturments, and fiddles had great sounds to them. Some insturments didn't sound that good.

She saw the woman bring the kettle over and apologious for the lack of a tea pot, but she said it was ok. She poured herself tea and added some milk but no honey, sure it tasted good with honey, but she didn't like that type of sweetness in her tea. So she took a few sips as silence filled the room that was so energtic. She held her tea cup securely as she saw that the madame was looking down at her lap. Though as she was going to move her hand to put the tea cup down, the madame jumped up which caused Cerise almost spilling the tea, but she didn't. That had been a lucky break. She put it down before any real harm could be done and heard the madame and nodded her head.

Though even while she nodded her head the miss was tuning her strings and started to play an Irish tune. Cerise thought she heard this tune before somewhere. She was tapping her foot along when the madame laughed over the music saying that she could dance if she wanted to. She smiled, and stood up. She wasn't Irish, she was from here and didn't know exactly how to dance to this, but she gave it a try. She heard you weren't suppose to move the upper half of you body and tap with your feet. She hoped she had been told right, for she crossed her arms behind her and tried her hand at that tap toe, heel and that bouncing and switching from leg to leg. It wasn't that good but she was having fun. Don't ask how she learned they danced like that, as her other friends.

The dance was suppose to be fun and lively to the sound of the music, so she tried to do that. Not your best, but not your entirely worst. She gave a smiled towards the woman and would stop when she stopped playing. She was having fun, plus it was nice to take a break from work and being formal and such.