#it exists or 9p and I are eating our hats

[yyanthe]

Writing - Opera Night III - Nazrien

It was delayed due to playing the expansion ^^;;

Part One

Part Two

The crowd around him jumped to their feet for a standing ovation but Nazrien could only sag in his chair with an exhausted sigh.  Maybe I'm being a bit dramatic?  But he really did feel as if he'd done a full's day of hard labor.  The lights went up but the curtains opened, revealing the entire ensemble.  They bowed to louder applause and pointed to the musicians and conductor, who in turn bowed and waved.  The curtain closed again and only to open once more, revealing less of the ensemble and more of the primary cast.

Before Nazrien knew it, Yyanthe had grabbed him by the elbow and hauled him up to his feet.  Yyanthe leaned in close to Nazrien's ear.  "I know you didn't forget your manners on the carriage ride here.  Be polite and applaud."  Nazrien's ears burned red with embarassment and he clapped as instructed.  His gaze drifted across each of the performers on the stage.  He rested his eyes on the elf with the pink wig, met his gaze evenly and then looked away.  Great, someone has just seen me be scolded by my father like I was a five year old...  The curtain calls continued and finally ended after the tenth curtain call for the leading lady.  By then, Nazrien's had stopped clapping as enthusiastically so as to save his hands from going numb.  

The curtains closed for the last time and finally, the crowd turned to leave the theater.  Slowly, he and his family made their ways to the door that led to the lobby until an official looking Sin'dorei caught Nazrien's attention.  She sailed through the crowd easily and when she spotted Yyanthe, her pace quickened.  Within seconds, her hand touched Yyanthe's shoulder.  She indicated for Yyanthe to lean over so she could speak to him quietly and he acquiesced.  She murmured something in his ear to low to hear and he nodded.  He asked a question back in her ear and she nodded to him.  

"Stuffie, Karyda, Nazrien.  Come on, follow me."  

The siblings exchanged a puzzled look but did as they were told.  They were ushered through the crowd into the lobby but were led away from the main exit.  They were led through a guarded door and down a long hallway lit with small floating magical candles.  They went up a small flight of stairs and through another door into a small corridor.  They paused for a moment to let a group of dancers pass and went through another door that opened into another long hallway.

It was quieter back here and well lit with floating magical lanterns.  The walls were draped with red silk as was the usual Silvermoon City design.  There were eight wooden doors spaced equally apart from each other.  Each had signs hung on them; a few doors had two names on the sign and others had one.  The usher led them to the second door with only one name posted on the door.  "Wait here, please."  She said, then turned to knock.

There was a faint noise inside before she slowly opened the door and peeked her head inside.  "They're here...Yes, sir.  Yes, sir."  She closed the door before she looked to Yyanthe.  "He'll see you first."

When Yyanthe stepped forward to go into the room, the siblings shared an incredulous look.  "He?"  They all mouthed at each other.  The usher politely nodded at the three then wandered back down the hallway.

Alone, they waited until they felt secure enough to come together in a huddle.  "Who's he?" Stuffie.

"Why are we backstage?"  Karyda.

"I don't like this." Nazrien.

Karyda adjusted the little cape half of her dress and looked curiously at him.  "Opera or meeting someone backstage?"

"Both."

"Opera is a little weird..."  Stuffie said and Nazrien gestured at her in the same manner Yyanthe had gestured at her earlier that day.  "But why not meet someone backstage?"

Nazrien shrugged, "She said he."

All three of them fell silent as they thought about the implication.  Stuffie spoke first, with a decisive nod.  "Daddy isn't a cheater.  He always ended his relationships before starting a new one."

Hastily, Nazrien waved his hands around to dismiss the idea.  "No, no, I wasn't implying that he would cheat--"

"It really did sound like it..."  Karyda told him.

"It's not what I meant.  I just.."  Nazrien let his hands fall back to his sides.  "I..I don't trust other guys around him or our other fathers.  I don't want anything to tear our little family apart."  He reluctantly confessed.

Stuffie smiled and reached over to pat his hand.  "You don't have to worry.  That guy was staring at you, anyway."  At Nazrien's quizzical look, Stuffie looked amused and exasperated.  "Sunwell, you're just as much of an idiot as Daddy."  She pointed at the door with the sign that clearly spelt out the actor's name.  "Vyndariel Amberlight."  She pulled out the folded program from her small purse and moved closer to Nazrien.  "He plays Lord Blazesong in the show."  She stared as Nazrien only shrugged.  "He was glaring at you!"

"I told you he wouldn't notice."  Karyda smirked at the two of them.

"It was so obvious!!!"  Stuffie threw her hands up in the air.  She pressed two hands against her face in disbelief, seemed to remember her make up and very carefully lifted those hands off her face.  "I can't believe it."

"I was too busy hating life to pay attention to the show."  Nazrien muttered and the girls made an 'aw' noise which didn't sound very sympathetic at all.  "Don't tell him.  He's already scolded me for not clapping immediately for Light's sake."

His sisters gave him a look of pity and Stuffie patted him again.  "This Vyndariel didn't only just stare at you when he was performing.  He stared at you during the encore.  I think he figured out you hated the play.  He's probably in there demanding an apology from Daddy now."

Nazrien closed his eyes and groaned.

[yyanthe]

Writing - Opera Night II - Vyndariel

This was what I was writing before the mini-black out.  :(  

Part One  

It had taken the Silvermoon City Opera several years to rebuild itself after the Third War.  First, money had to be raised in order to afford the piece of property in the eastern section of Silvermoon City that had not been ripped apart by the Scourge.  Second, time had to be spent to locate any surviving talent and to recruit any new talent willing and eager to be on stage, work backstage, play the music, or write new operas.

It hadn't been easy because any able bodied elf was recruited for the efforts in Outland and if not that, the majority wanted to do something...useful.  An argument had been made that opera could be very useful in order to distract Silvermoon's citizens from everything they'd suffered.  Or have new operas created in order to help them channel their rage and despair into an art form. This was a sound argument but many were still unconvinced.

Eventually,  enough musicians, composers, dancers, actors, artists, stagehands, and singers were assembled to create a working troupe.  Vyndariel was one of the surviving tenors from before the Third War and he'd also had the foresight to save most of the scripts and music for the operas that had been performed before the whole tragic mess occurred.

Vyn had been with the opera for almost a century even before the reformation of it.  He was a veteran when it came to opening nights and wasn't at all nervous; though, he could tell that a lot of the troupe was feeling some anxiety.  The only reason that he himself wasn't feeling any sort of terror was the fact that he was currently engaged in a battle with his costume.

Vyn stood backstage, shifting uneasily under the heavy clothes.  The brocade jacket and pants were unlined.  The mess of threads tickled his skin and was slowly driving him to madness.  A large fur cape was settled over his shoulders which instantly made him warmer than he'd prefer to be.  Vyn's wavy brown hair had been tied up and pinned down with a ludicrous pink wig shoved over it all. Absently, he raised a hand to scratch at a cheek that had been covered with heavy make up.  He then realized what he was about to do and dropped his hand instantly.  The last chords of the previous overture faded into silence alerting him that he only had seconds to resolve his differences with his outfit.

Dancers streamed past him as drums began to play.  His gait turned into a slow saunter and his posture changed - straight backed and arrogant.  The elf he'd been slowly faded into an arrogant cariacature of entitled elf lord.  The lights of the stage were nearly blinding compared to the dim lighting backstage but decades of training kept Vyn from wincing.  He gave a slight smirk as he continued to the middle of the stage.  The cheers and applause surrounded him and it was enough to help him ignore the feeling of sweat beginning to prick at his back and at his hairline.  As the applause died down, the aria began.  His disdainful eyes settled on a random audience member as he sang a line before he moved onto the next person.  This wasn't a move that many could do - not because it was hard to look at someone but because most of them were trained to ignore the audience.  However, this routine had been received very well during dress rehearsals and it seemed that it was doing even better during the live show.

Vyn raised his chin a tiny fraction and glanced toward his next victim except--

--it was a mistake, a folly--

--he was struck with helplesness.  The Sin'dorei man that gazed back at him had vivid fel green eyes framed by long dark eyelashes.  He had a diamond shaped face, with long black hair, a well trimmed goatee and a slight five o clock shadow.  And he looked at Vyn as if he were the most trying form of life on all of Azeroth.

What the fuck?

Ever the professional, Vyn's voice didn't waver nor did he forget his lines.  He had only ever forgotten his lines once in his life: when they had received word that the Scourge had broken through the elf gates near Thalassian pass.  That was something.  

This was just a grumpy man.

Still, Vyn didn't move his gaze away from the man in front of him.  Instead, he glared at him-trying to mirror the man's own irritation back at him.

The aria ended sooner than had expected but the thunderous applause barely reached him.  Vyn watched the Sin'dorei man in front of him for a minute longer.  Did you like it?  He demanded silently.  The only reply the man gave him was a polite clapping.

Polite clapping?

Indignation poured into him and Vyn used this emotion to sweep majestically back off of the stage.  I don't deserve polite clapping.  I'm not a child at his first recital!  Vyn carefully schooled his face to be as blank as possible, not wanting the company to see his anger and react negatively.  As soon as he was away from the stage and the audience, Vyndariel lengthened his stride and made it back to the sanctuary of his dressing room.  He kicked the door shut with his foot and collapsed down into his chair.