Oh Hai. Many things: I AM TOTALLY NEW AT THIS. I have only seen maybe 10 episodes of this show...names might be wrong and for that I apologize but this was a TOTAL whim and a gift for my dear friend Agnes. 3 3 I am SERIOUSLY screwing with whole bunches of stuff...say for example...SETTING Bwaaah! So if you're die hard and want EVERYTHING to be the same way...I apologize...there's a back button on your browser, up there eon the top left corner...USE IT:D I own NOTHING. I'm not really sure who does, but I don't own any of these characters (except Aaron, Aaron is my darling dear...but he DOES take some stuff from 'Phantom Of The Opera' which of course belongs to Gaston Leroux and Etienne De Mendes...but for the rest of his-ness-ness he is mine) My Villain is all made up...so...any accidental resemblance to any REAL villain in this show or otherwise...totally an accident...ENJOY! :D
It had started off as a normal day, nothing out of the ordinary. Get up, cup of tea, shower, another cup of tea, proofing the scores he was planning on working on that day, cup of tea, dressing for the day, black pants, red silk shirt, black vest, hair brushed and coiffed, glasses neatly on, makeup done, gloves on, heavy tailored woolen coat, out the door.
He walked to work on the warmer days of the winter season, his boots crunched happily in the snow and he loved watching the snow fall on his black sleeves, he loved the way the icy droplets fell in his hair and on his face, and particularly on his glasses.
Watching the flakes melt on his lenses made him feel as if they had given their beautiful crystalline lives just for his viewing pleasure.
A warm smile curved his full lips as he reached out and caught a particularly fluffy flake in the middle of his gloved palm, he watched it melt and then raised his eyes to be level with the road and continued on his way to work.
He pushed open the doors of his building and smiled at the few janitors and set builders who came to work this early. He continued down the hall to his office, pushed open the door and moved to flick on the light-when someone turned on the desk lamp with a flash.
He blinked in shock and narrowed his eyes as he took in the person he saw. At first Aaron thought the young woman was some sort of dancer auditioning in costume for a part that she didn't know the costume FOR.
Long electric blue hair fell to her waist in a coiffed and sectioned braid, she bore a tattoo or a drawing of some strange hexagonal symbol on her forehead, attached to seeming barbed wire stars that trickled down her cheeks around her lime green eyes, to her mouth, disappearing between her lips.
She wore a dress tighter then anything Aaron had ever seen before and the skirt rose to less then two inches below the curve of her buttocks, to say nothing of the dip in the front. "Is there..." he began with forced politesse as he laid his bag on the cabinet nearest the door, feeling a great sense of not being safe mixed with malice floating in the air.
"Yes. I want your voice" she said plainly, and as Aaron creased his brows, and jerked uncontrollably away from her, the voice had come from behind a forked, serpentine tongue that tasted the air as she spoke.
"My...voice?" he asked fumbling behind him for the door handle, desperate to get the door -open-.
"YES" She cried and lunged forward, he yanked the door open just as she did and scrambled backwards out the door, unfortunately tangling himself in his own feet he fell to the floor and scrambled away down the hallway on hands and knees.
She gave a demented laugh and followed him with soft steps, he didn't give pause to turn and look after her but got to his feet as quickly as his dancers grace would allow and took off down the hall way with the longest strides he could muster.
He let out a cry as he ran...her forked tongue seemed to stretch the impossible distance between them to LICK at the back of his neck. As he felt the tongue again he propelled himself forward and slammed his whole body through a side door that would connect with, and spill onto, the stage.
He made it onto the stage, in the wings behind the curtains when he heard her twisted laugh again. "no where to run now little lamb" she cooed and he let out another horrified cry as he felt something dry and reptilian creep around his left wrist.
A single glance revealed to him something of a snake like tail wrapped tightly around his wrist, and though he clawed and pulled and tore in vein she laughed again and appeared from the shadows where the rest of her body had been hiding, a smirk on her face as she tugged him forward to his knees. "I will have your voice Suavite" she purred and as she got closer he saw the strange snake-like cut to her eyes.
"You can bet on it" she giggled right in his face, licking at his jaw with her tongue, his stomach roiled and as he turned his head to the side to vomit she forced his face back with her hand
"Now give it up" and just when he thought he could take no more she leaned forward as if to kiss him, he closed his eyes and did his best to recoil from her vice like grip when suddenly she let out a cry of pain and released him to fall back on the stage, Aaron scrambled away as fast as he could eyes pinned to her while trying to find the source of her pain.
He found it, in a red rose stuck like a dagger from her snakelike tentacles, and an enchanting male baritone.* "Without Music, life would be a mistake"* it said glaring in indignation at the snake-woman-thing.
**Friedrich Nietzsche