Is this still about The Thieves? No? Sing me Coda
Is this still about The Thieves? No? Sing me Coda
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Where is your ease oh wandering tourist?
Fidgeting so nervously as the opera singer hits her high notes, resoundingly shaking the audiences hearts with an echoing dilemma.
The wide open space of the theater had just gone quiet as the symphony tones done to a mezzo-forte, leaving many to ponder;
“Should a fool be shown pity for stepping up in a life of mediocrity, leading a dozen to face their anguish?”
Cyrille, the poor girl that has gone to rest. Cyrille, a buried part of history.
This production was certainly a controversial one as it tackles a dark course of Belobog’s history and the Supremacy of every Supreme Guardian, corruption in the sphere of influence, and rebellion.
It was an interesting choice of play to show for Solwarm, especially when many people came to see it, including that ever so brooding face from atop a balcony seat reserved for the Landau Family.
This she has come to know as the Captain of the Silvermane Guards, Gepard Landau. Vaguely she can barely make out — he was crying, face blown with a bashful red as tears streams down his features.
The Captain was moved when others were still idly processing things.
She shifts her gaze back on stage and every actors, dancers, and singers came to do their bows as the audience roars in applause.
—
Welcome to the Golden Theater.
Established by the Architect: Goliards, in the same era as Alisa Rand. Her love and talent for the production music and film continues on as the legacy of the Golden Theater.
In the tough times of the beginning of the Everwinter in Jarilo-VI the Golden Theater was proof of the persevering stubbornness for creation the Belobogians have.
To preserve the normalcy of their lives, to revel in the joy of fine arts and earthly enjoyments.
"If the world was forged in cold silver, it shall be challenged by the molten gold known as music." as she has come to say.
And true it was, the Opera house was gold not only in its grand red curtain falls, or the intricate brass ornaments that tattered around ledges and crannies of the place, or the rows of seats which filled with people.
The music also gleamed with gold.
Stripes stood from her seat, shaking with astonishment as if stars were falling onto her. This was the first play she seen from start to finish.
Yes the other times she waltzed into a theater to complete a given mission does not count in her list. When things are done with ulterior motives you don't realize or take things for what it is, then chaos ensues.
She walks down the large hallways of the theater, a wafting scent of burned cigarettes senseless filling up her senses. No one is smoking in the halls per se, its simply hung in the air like a ghost, a sign of the elite as one have come to know.
Which really gives her thought to chew on.
Is there any casinos hidden in the theater?
Her curios mind could not be satiated as the girl makes her move briskly, going to the upper floors of the theatre through the elevators of old design.
Ding!
As the doors opened with a ring.
One to two men waiting by the entrance.
Like any rich man, theres a man with a priestly expression upon his face, while the other brims with impatience, there are only two types of faces.
She passes by the two.
It was like an adventure for herself, the sound of Stripes shoes muted in blunt steps by the bright carpets.
Colors can hide the true grime it posses. Like the blue colored seats of every school bus. She knows for a fact..those haven’t been cleaned.
“It’s a delight to have met you here, Lady Bronya. The show was magnificent, i don’t know how long its been since i took a break like this.” from a distance a voice can be heard as well as the sounds of an oinking trotter.
The familiar shades of red and black uniforms came in sight which she come to realize,
The IPC—!
She turned on her heels abruptly turning to the nearest turn which was a balcony seat. Seemingly empty.
Right, the IPC is after this planet as well, how could the invitation slip her mind?
Maybe she’s been too at ease with herself, with the currently pleasures she’s been indulging herself in but there is still a bounty on her head.
“Um…it’s you again.” the Captain called out to her taking her by surprise.
“I thought this box was empty.” she answered too sudden, too fast. But for moment she finds her adrenaline slowing down at the sight of him. Its just him, and him again as they keep meeting.
“Usually is.” he replies back kindly, welcoming her in and pulling out one of the cushioned chairs for her to sit in.
The box reserved for the Landau Family’s viewing...
“I’m guessing you don’t go to the opera as much?”
“As much as i love the theater…”
“Still tied to your station?” she guessed as much and his nod confirms of it.
“It’s just on rare occasions like this i get to have moments of leisure.
I prefer to sit amongst the crowd down there, so..maybe next time — when its not a full house — you can use this balcony when its empty, if you want.”
Huh, that offer came out of nowhere, its very generous of him its almost tempting. “Don’t think i’ll accept, this is a reserved property.”
“Oh?" he blinks once or twice, realization befalling his face afterwards. "Well forgive me, my assumption of you was incorrect —“ the blond shifts to lean toward the balusters with a quiet gaze.
Now that she looks at him, faint traces of his earlier tearing up were still evident in the plains of his features as faint as it may seem.
“I thought you were trying to get into the upper floors, it could’ve gotten you into trouble if it weren’t this box you came upon.”
Ah so he thought of her as sneaking into prohibited areas. She quickly corrects him. “I assure you i did not mean to trespass.” but she still did. She did.
“I’ll believe you.” he nods, for now he will.
There Stripes felt a delicate trust placed onto two.
She hopes for it to last, at least till her plan falls through and everything is exposed. It all will be.
But for now, there is comfort in hiding.
—
The two continued on chattering through the silence of the empty space of the Golden Theater.
There they talked on about the previous play, his earlier crying — to which he bashfully dismisses — and the other past performances in general.
There would times, barely noticeable, where Stripes almost slipped up in her act whenever Gepard would return a question to her.
What is it like being able to travel in space, where’d you come from, what’s your name.
“Just..'Stripes'…should be fine. A researcher once called me that since my name was too hard to pronounce.”
“Huh? Why ‘Stripes’?”
“Cause i wore Stripes, it’s what people see.” the girl replies with a wry smile to which she shifts focus. “What about you? Why are you named Gepard? Isn’t that like another term for Cheetah or something?”
“I never really figured it out honestly.”
Are there cheetahs in Jarilo-VI Is also an important question.
They laugh at the thought of it.
Theres an odd way in the constructs of our names, a sort of permanent thing that stays with us. Like every birthmark you cant escape.
But perhaps it’s a relieving thing that we didn't get to choose our names or the places of our birth marks.
Cause when one stumbles upon a name it stays with them too.
Undeniably, delighting in each others company as they went on with their conversation barely even noticing that there was not another soul in the place (save for the staff and security.)
“Sir, the theater’s closing.” informs the usher by the door to which caused two to look at each other. “Ah right, we’ll be on our way then.”
Two made their way through the dimming hallways, its silence filling with their voices as they continued on with ease in their stroll.
“Aren’t you worried?” she settled behind him in the elevator whilst Gepard occupies his fingers with the buttons. Going down to the ground floor as the doors closed its bars like a small cage.
“Of what?” he asks.
“This elevator is the type to chop off fingers. Don’t lean on the sides too much.”
“O-oh.”
Colder is the time of August when they’ve stepped outside, into the crisp air of the motionless night. As heating engines battle with the temperature of the hour of the sun’s absence.
Find yourself a cold star to follow as you bid farewells to the warm friends you’ve made.
“I guess this is where part ways?” Stripes looks to her side.
“Then?” the same face greets her with a smile. “We’ll just end up meeting again.” he says, noticeably shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat.
To his statement she nods thoughtfully, giving his arm a small bump of her fist.
“See you next time then. I’m going.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
The night at the Opera ends there.
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