Title: Phantom 1/?
Author: RenataUsha
Pairings: 2+R/1+R (triangle thing)
Rating: G for now.
Warnings: non-yaoi, AU fusion
Disclaimers: GW and PotO aren't mine and never to be. *sigh*
Authoress's Notes:
Thanks to everyone who is reading this right now. Outside of the
archive, I had alot of silence on this part.I register that as no
interest given toward is and have gotten pretty discouraged by it.
I decided to continue putting out this story. I like it personally.
Well, it's a fusion between Gundam Wing and Phantom of the Opera,
with my own tastes thrown in. The Gundam Characters are in character
(or at least are meant to be given some the setting atmosphere),
just in the setting and outline of the Phantom storyline.
Again, thanks for reading and please review for me. Feedback always
is welcome, constructive or no.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A faint shower drizzled down from the overcast skies causing the twin
pair of carriage horses to shake their ebony coats of the previous
downpour. The coach driver quickly tugged his blue coat closer
before he leaned over and rapped lightly on the carriage door. The
door opened and a black clad gentleman stepped out. He stood tall
viewing the immense structure that was the Sanc Opera Populaire. He
tugged on the last black glove that was hidden under his thick cape-
coat onto his slender hand, then proceeded to adjust his top hat as his
similiarly clad partner paid the coach driver and watched the
carriage off.
"Well, Trowa, what do you think of our new purchase?" he asked of his
partner when he moved up the smiling man. Trowa quickly placed his
own hat over his chesnut hair and stared up at the building. The
granite stone towered ominiously over the two. The metal roof
ornaments of angels, crowned by the massive statue of Apollo and his
lyre standing majestically before the rusty ceiling dome, cast faint
shadows down the numerous steps leading up the double front doorway
and upon the gemtlemen at the bottom of the stone staircase.
Trowa cast his green gaze to his partner. "Good, Quatre, Good."
Quatre flashed an approving smile and nooded the toward the door.
The young entrepreneurs proceeded up the steps to accept their new
enterprise.
* * *
"Ah, Mousiers Winner and Barton. It's good to see the Poplulaire
pass on into fair hands," Sally concluded handing the Opera House
deed over to Trowa and collect the five hundred thousand francs from
Quatre. She moved out from behind her former desk to open the door.
After turning the knob, she swiftly opened it and smiled satisfied,
gesturing for the two new co-managers to exit through the open
doorway. "Now, shall I give you the tour of your new Opera House,"
she said as Quatre and Trowa went through the door and she behind
them closing the wooden door.
Sally led them down the narrow hall toward the backstage regions of
the open auditorium. The old familiar poundings of the twenty about
ballet dancers against the floor filled the room, carried in pace by
the voice of the ballet mistress. The three managers watched the
going-ons curiously. A strong tune suddenly floated up into the
musty air where choral instructor Une drilled the lead tenor. "Now,
Trieze, remember. Rome, no Roma," she tipped of her singer before
beginning to practice his role as Hannibal.
Sally walked the two managers through the crowds of rehearsing actors
and working stagehands. She halted slightly in front the
open. "As you can see, gentlemen, rehearsals for the production
of 'Hannibal' are well underway." They walked more into the center
stage for a better view of the onstage and offstage activities.
Gesturing toward the activity around the piano, she
stated, "Gentlemen, the woman on the piano is choral instructor Une
and the singer is our lead tenor Trieze Khusrenada. An excellent
show he can put on." Trowa watched the instructor and tenor
intentively while Quatre inquired about the other cast members of the
Opera Populaire. Sally smiled gleefully at his enthusiasm for the
business.
Before she could reply, a short redhead hotly strode up to them and
stood with her hands on her hips. "Excuse me, but please! Would
you kindly move to one side?" she requested exasperated. The three
stared over just to see they were in the way of the quickly advancing
ballet corps. The diligently stepped over to the left and the ballet
proceeded on in step.
"She, gentlemen, is our ballet mistress, Catherine Bloom. With Une,
this place could be ruled with a tyrant-like disipline," she
introduced as Catherine wandered off back to her dancers. Sally
released a heavy sigh as she turned back to the new managers. Trowa
held his attention on the former manager while his partner let his
blue-green eyes wander over the ballet. "Truthfully, I can't wait to
leave the whole entertainment business behind," she confessed more to
herself.
Trowa cast a quizzitive eye on her. "Why exactly were you retiring,
Madmoiselle Po?" he asked of the silent woman.
A nervous expression crossed her face before she shrugged it off. By
passing the question, Sally turned their attention onto the ballet.
One girl rose up in a leap before the back dancers and lowered to
raise on her toes. Her pristine dress caught the eyes of the
managers. Quatre pointed out a gloved hand inquiring who the
ballerina was.
"Her? Hilde Schibeker. A very promising one, Mousier Winner, very
promising," Sally replied proudly. Suddenly a young blonde
sidestepped over her toes and teetered, but kept from falling right
on her belly. Catherine released a frusturated growl as everyone
chuckled at the girl's misfortune. Soft snidding mockeries and
muffled snickers rose from where a young woman was chatting with some
other actresses. Quatre's ear perked up upon overhearing Mistress
Catherine scolding the girl for her clumsiness. He turned back to
Sally.
"Peacecraft? Odd. Is she by any chance related to the famous
violinist in anyway?"
Sally pondered a moment before replying, "I think she is his daughter
actually." She turned about as though looking for something. Soon
coming to halt her search, the co-managers realized all rehearsings
had stopped. She cleared her throat before announcing, "Ladies and
gentlemen, you have heard the rumors of my possible retirement from
the management of this House. I tell you now... those rumors are
true." A slight commotion waved through the auditorium, but was
silenced when she raised her hands. "I am glad to introduce to you
the new managers of the Sanc Opera Populaire, Mousiers Quatre Winner
and Trowa Barton," she said motioning to the two.
The previously mocking woman apprached the managers and curtsied low
in from ot them, a bright sheen reflecting off of her thick platinum
hair. She cast a welcoming smile on her crimson lips. "I'm hurt to
hear you are leaving, Manager Po, but I am glad to see the Populaire
will be in good hands." She curtiesd to Trowa and Quatre flashing
them a questionable eye.
Sally smiled in pride as she turned to with her hand stretched out
toward the young girl. "Gentlemen, may I introduce our prima donna,
Dorothy Catalonia. She plays superbly opposite Mousier Khrushrenada."
Quatre just bowed back while Trowa eyed their Italian diva. A ghost
of a smile crept onto his emotionless face. "Madamoiselle Catalonia,
I believe there was great aria of your queen Elissa before we
entered. Would you care to sing a personal section for us?" he
requested of her.
Dorothy nodded a proud acknowledgement. She lifted the saffron
skirts of her costume and strode over to the practicing Une and
Trieze. After a few words with the intrstucor, Dorothy took Trieze's
place by the piano and Une inquired whether two bars was sufficent.
Upon the managers' affirmation, she keyed out a soft melody which the
diva joined in on a minute later. "Think of me-think of me fondly-
when we've said-goodbye. Remember me-once in a while-" Her golden
voice repeated from every corner of the dark auditorium to bounce
back to the source. Quatre grinned pleasantly at their private
performance. Trowa stayed stoic while Sally reflected a sad
pleased expression.
Suddenly when Dorothy reached half way down the second bar, a loud
crack followed by a large wooden groan drowned out her voice as the
canvas backdrop of a painted tropical city came crashing down
separating half of the casts. Panic flooded amongst the rehearsing
members causing them to dash all around the stage away from the
fallen backdrop. A small dettachment of ballet girls huddled
together chorusing the 'phantom' was here again. Trieze
hurried over to Dorothy yelling out if anyone was concerned for
their prima donna.
When the backdrop was raised again by its wooden support beam, Sally
locked her angry gaze on the figure of Wufei Chang up in the rafter.
He shrugged while stating, "I wasn't up here, Madamoiselle Po. I
inspected and no one's up here, and, if there is, well, it must have
been a ghost." This accosted another chorusfrom the ballet girls,
led by Hilde, who stared with imagining eyes up at the darkened rafters.
Trowa appraoched the two soloists to help Dorothy from her fallen
position on the stained floor. Quatre hustled over to the group of
ballet girls and shot them a stern gaze. "Madamoiselles, please!
Will you show a little courtesy?" Catherine quickly gave an apology
for her girls' impertinence and rounded them up to lead them off to
their dressing rooms. He turned to the now standing Dorothy. "Are
you alright, Madamoiselle Catalonia?" A fatalistic expression
crossed his face as he gently smiled and clasped his hands
together. "These things do happen."
Dorothy focused an angered snear at her manager as she dusted of the
layered skirt flowing around her. "Si, these things do happen.
These things happen just as they have always happened. Well, if
these things continue to happen, my voice will not continue for your
services," she snarled at him. Calling for Trieze, he retrieved her
furs and followed her as she stormed out of the crimson auditorium.
The three managers just watched where their prima donna had left a
minute before; Quatre dubmfounded, Trowa his usual stoic, and Sally
with an expectant face. She turned to the co-managers and, releasing
a heavy sigh, gave a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry. Dorothy has a
tendency to do that. She'll be back with all her glory. wWell, there
insn't much more I can do to help you, so, mousiers, if you need me,
I will be in my apothecary on 7th avenue. Farewell and good luck."
She gave one last curtsy before heading off toward the offices to
gather the last of her possessions.
After the new managers watched her disappear around a corner,
Mistress Catherine approached them with a note in her slender
hand. "Excuse me, managers, but a note has arrived for you from the
Opera ghost." Quatre released an exasperated sigh while Trowa only
took the parchment form the ballet mistress and scanned the red
scribblings. "He welcomes you to the Sanc Opera Populaire. He also
reminds you to continue to leave Box Two alone for his purposes and
that his salary has not been paid."
Trowa perked up from the scribbled paper piqued with curiosity and
caution. He eyed her questionably. "His salary?"
catherine released a nervous look toward the two inquiring
gentlemen. "Manager Po paid the Opera Ghost about twenty thousand
francs a month." She let a sly smirk slip by them. "You perhaps can
afford more with the 'Perfect Soldier' as one of your prominent
patrons." A chitty flutterings echoed throughout the chorus and
ballet girls at the name of the Populaire's patron. Toward the back
of the group, a nervous Relena squeezed her friend Hilde's small hand.
Quatre cast a hushing gaze to their ballet mistress while Trowa
approached choral instructor Une and inquired, " Mam'selle Une, is
there an understudy for the role of Elissa?"
A surprised expression washed over her facing telling him that
question wasn't brought up much for the leading role. "Uh...no,
mousier-the production is new."
Just then, Hilde quietly snuch out of the mass of ballet girls and
approached Trowa from behind, lightly tugging his grey jacket to
catch his attention. Upon his turning toward her, she flashed a
bright smile saying, "Relena Peacecraft can sing it, sir."
His eyebrow cocked up a centimenter in question. "The ballerina?"
he asked skeptically rememberig the young blonde fumbling around the
stage. The hint of doubt of her having a voice was apparent in his
question. She answered with a vigorous nod.
Before he could release another word, Catherine was before him
reaffirming what Hilde had just said. "Yes, manager. Let her sing.
She will no doubt surprise you." She flagged the girl in question
over from her studdering practices. A worrying shadow clouded over
Relena's face as she watched the two managers.
Une's voice sound up behind her. "Relena, here." She led the young
girl over to the position by the old piano previously held by
Dorothy. The other four's gazes followed them in tow. The choral
instructor ordered from the beginning of the diva's aria of the small
singer while she flawlessly keyed out the piece's opening
accompanient.
"think of me-think of me fondly-when we've said-goodbye..." Relena's
soft voice floated through the large auditorium. A crystalline hint
in her song casting such a difference from Dorothy's golden tone upon
the pleading operatic aria. A sudden burst of breath lifted her
diamond-like melody across to the back of the chamber and up into the
rafters as she fell into the chorus of the solo. As Relena
continued, a surprised grin spread over Quatre's face and a pleased
curve perked up on Trowa's mouth. Hilde just watched with an
extremely proud expression on her own face.
All concentrated on the new discovery, no eye passed to the black
shade that stood reaffirming the backdrop's stability. It passed for
a moment to listen to the lovely tune before dashing off into a
shadowy corner and disappearing into its crannies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TBC..........
Author: RenataUsha
Pairings: 2+R/1+R (triangle thing)
Rating: G for now.
Warnings: non-yaoi, AU fusion
Disclaimers: GW and PotO aren't mine and never to be. *sigh*
Authoress's Notes:
Thanks to everyone who is reading this right now. Outside of the
archive, I had alot of silence on this part.I register that as no
interest given toward is and have gotten pretty discouraged by it.
I decided to continue putting out this story. I like it personally.
Well, it's a fusion between Gundam Wing and Phantom of the Opera,
with my own tastes thrown in. The Gundam Characters are in character
(or at least are meant to be given some the setting atmosphere),
just in the setting and outline of the Phantom storyline.
Again, thanks for reading and please review for me. Feedback always
is welcome, constructive or no.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A faint shower drizzled down from the overcast skies causing the twin
pair of carriage horses to shake their ebony coats of the previous
downpour. The coach driver quickly tugged his blue coat closer
before he leaned over and rapped lightly on the carriage door. The
door opened and a black clad gentleman stepped out. He stood tall
viewing the immense structure that was the Sanc Opera Populaire. He
tugged on the last black glove that was hidden under his thick cape-
coat onto his slender hand, then proceeded to adjust his top hat as his
similiarly clad partner paid the coach driver and watched the
carriage off.
"Well, Trowa, what do you think of our new purchase?" he asked of his
partner when he moved up the smiling man. Trowa quickly placed his
own hat over his chesnut hair and stared up at the building. The
granite stone towered ominiously over the two. The metal roof
ornaments of angels, crowned by the massive statue of Apollo and his
lyre standing majestically before the rusty ceiling dome, cast faint
shadows down the numerous steps leading up the double front doorway
and upon the gemtlemen at the bottom of the stone staircase.
Trowa cast his green gaze to his partner. "Good, Quatre, Good."
Quatre flashed an approving smile and nooded the toward the door.
The young entrepreneurs proceeded up the steps to accept their new
enterprise.
* * *
"Ah, Mousiers Winner and Barton. It's good to see the Poplulaire
pass on into fair hands," Sally concluded handing the Opera House
deed over to Trowa and collect the five hundred thousand francs from
Quatre. She moved out from behind her former desk to open the door.
After turning the knob, she swiftly opened it and smiled satisfied,
gesturing for the two new co-managers to exit through the open
doorway. "Now, shall I give you the tour of your new Opera House,"
she said as Quatre and Trowa went through the door and she behind
them closing the wooden door.
Sally led them down the narrow hall toward the backstage regions of
the open auditorium. The old familiar poundings of the twenty about
ballet dancers against the floor filled the room, carried in pace by
the voice of the ballet mistress. The three managers watched the
going-ons curiously. A strong tune suddenly floated up into the
musty air where choral instructor Une drilled the lead tenor. "Now,
Trieze, remember. Rome, no Roma," she tipped of her singer before
beginning to practice his role as Hannibal.
Sally walked the two managers through the crowds of rehearsing actors
and working stagehands. She halted slightly in front the
open. "As you can see, gentlemen, rehearsals for the production
of 'Hannibal' are well underway." They walked more into the center
stage for a better view of the onstage and offstage activities.
Gesturing toward the activity around the piano, she
stated, "Gentlemen, the woman on the piano is choral instructor Une
and the singer is our lead tenor Trieze Khusrenada. An excellent
show he can put on." Trowa watched the instructor and tenor
intentively while Quatre inquired about the other cast members of the
Opera Populaire. Sally smiled gleefully at his enthusiasm for the
business.
Before she could reply, a short redhead hotly strode up to them and
stood with her hands on her hips. "Excuse me, but please! Would
you kindly move to one side?" she requested exasperated. The three
stared over just to see they were in the way of the quickly advancing
ballet corps. The diligently stepped over to the left and the ballet
proceeded on in step.
"She, gentlemen, is our ballet mistress, Catherine Bloom. With Une,
this place could be ruled with a tyrant-like disipline," she
introduced as Catherine wandered off back to her dancers. Sally
released a heavy sigh as she turned back to the new managers. Trowa
held his attention on the former manager while his partner let his
blue-green eyes wander over the ballet. "Truthfully, I can't wait to
leave the whole entertainment business behind," she confessed more to
herself.
Trowa cast a quizzitive eye on her. "Why exactly were you retiring,
Madmoiselle Po?" he asked of the silent woman.
A nervous expression crossed her face before she shrugged it off. By
passing the question, Sally turned their attention onto the ballet.
One girl rose up in a leap before the back dancers and lowered to
raise on her toes. Her pristine dress caught the eyes of the
managers. Quatre pointed out a gloved hand inquiring who the
ballerina was.
"Her? Hilde Schibeker. A very promising one, Mousier Winner, very
promising," Sally replied proudly. Suddenly a young blonde
sidestepped over her toes and teetered, but kept from falling right
on her belly. Catherine released a frusturated growl as everyone
chuckled at the girl's misfortune. Soft snidding mockeries and
muffled snickers rose from where a young woman was chatting with some
other actresses. Quatre's ear perked up upon overhearing Mistress
Catherine scolding the girl for her clumsiness. He turned back to
Sally.
"Peacecraft? Odd. Is she by any chance related to the famous
violinist in anyway?"
Sally pondered a moment before replying, "I think she is his daughter
actually." She turned about as though looking for something. Soon
coming to halt her search, the co-managers realized all rehearsings
had stopped. She cleared her throat before announcing, "Ladies and
gentlemen, you have heard the rumors of my possible retirement from
the management of this House. I tell you now... those rumors are
true." A slight commotion waved through the auditorium, but was
silenced when she raised her hands. "I am glad to introduce to you
the new managers of the Sanc Opera Populaire, Mousiers Quatre Winner
and Trowa Barton," she said motioning to the two.
The previously mocking woman apprached the managers and curtsied low
in from ot them, a bright sheen reflecting off of her thick platinum
hair. She cast a welcoming smile on her crimson lips. "I'm hurt to
hear you are leaving, Manager Po, but I am glad to see the Populaire
will be in good hands." She curtiesd to Trowa and Quatre flashing
them a questionable eye.
Sally smiled in pride as she turned to with her hand stretched out
toward the young girl. "Gentlemen, may I introduce our prima donna,
Dorothy Catalonia. She plays superbly opposite Mousier Khrushrenada."
Quatre just bowed back while Trowa eyed their Italian diva. A ghost
of a smile crept onto his emotionless face. "Madamoiselle Catalonia,
I believe there was great aria of your queen Elissa before we
entered. Would you care to sing a personal section for us?" he
requested of her.
Dorothy nodded a proud acknowledgement. She lifted the saffron
skirts of her costume and strode over to the practicing Une and
Trieze. After a few words with the intrstucor, Dorothy took Trieze's
place by the piano and Une inquired whether two bars was sufficent.
Upon the managers' affirmation, she keyed out a soft melody which the
diva joined in on a minute later. "Think of me-think of me fondly-
when we've said-goodbye. Remember me-once in a while-" Her golden
voice repeated from every corner of the dark auditorium to bounce
back to the source. Quatre grinned pleasantly at their private
performance. Trowa stayed stoic while Sally reflected a sad
pleased expression.
Suddenly when Dorothy reached half way down the second bar, a loud
crack followed by a large wooden groan drowned out her voice as the
canvas backdrop of a painted tropical city came crashing down
separating half of the casts. Panic flooded amongst the rehearsing
members causing them to dash all around the stage away from the
fallen backdrop. A small dettachment of ballet girls huddled
together chorusing the 'phantom' was here again. Trieze
hurried over to Dorothy yelling out if anyone was concerned for
their prima donna.
When the backdrop was raised again by its wooden support beam, Sally
locked her angry gaze on the figure of Wufei Chang up in the rafter.
He shrugged while stating, "I wasn't up here, Madamoiselle Po. I
inspected and no one's up here, and, if there is, well, it must have
been a ghost." This accosted another chorusfrom the ballet girls,
led by Hilde, who stared with imagining eyes up at the darkened rafters.
Trowa appraoched the two soloists to help Dorothy from her fallen
position on the stained floor. Quatre hustled over to the group of
ballet girls and shot them a stern gaze. "Madamoiselles, please!
Will you show a little courtesy?" Catherine quickly gave an apology
for her girls' impertinence and rounded them up to lead them off to
their dressing rooms. He turned to the now standing Dorothy. "Are
you alright, Madamoiselle Catalonia?" A fatalistic expression
crossed his face as he gently smiled and clasped his hands
together. "These things do happen."
Dorothy focused an angered snear at her manager as she dusted of the
layered skirt flowing around her. "Si, these things do happen.
These things happen just as they have always happened. Well, if
these things continue to happen, my voice will not continue for your
services," she snarled at him. Calling for Trieze, he retrieved her
furs and followed her as she stormed out of the crimson auditorium.
The three managers just watched where their prima donna had left a
minute before; Quatre dubmfounded, Trowa his usual stoic, and Sally
with an expectant face. She turned to the co-managers and, releasing
a heavy sigh, gave a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry. Dorothy has a
tendency to do that. She'll be back with all her glory. wWell, there
insn't much more I can do to help you, so, mousiers, if you need me,
I will be in my apothecary on 7th avenue. Farewell and good luck."
She gave one last curtsy before heading off toward the offices to
gather the last of her possessions.
After the new managers watched her disappear around a corner,
Mistress Catherine approached them with a note in her slender
hand. "Excuse me, managers, but a note has arrived for you from the
Opera ghost." Quatre released an exasperated sigh while Trowa only
took the parchment form the ballet mistress and scanned the red
scribblings. "He welcomes you to the Sanc Opera Populaire. He also
reminds you to continue to leave Box Two alone for his purposes and
that his salary has not been paid."
Trowa perked up from the scribbled paper piqued with curiosity and
caution. He eyed her questionably. "His salary?"
catherine released a nervous look toward the two inquiring
gentlemen. "Manager Po paid the Opera Ghost about twenty thousand
francs a month." She let a sly smirk slip by them. "You perhaps can
afford more with the 'Perfect Soldier' as one of your prominent
patrons." A chitty flutterings echoed throughout the chorus and
ballet girls at the name of the Populaire's patron. Toward the back
of the group, a nervous Relena squeezed her friend Hilde's small hand.
Quatre cast a hushing gaze to their ballet mistress while Trowa
approached choral instructor Une and inquired, " Mam'selle Une, is
there an understudy for the role of Elissa?"
A surprised expression washed over her facing telling him that
question wasn't brought up much for the leading role. "Uh...no,
mousier-the production is new."
Just then, Hilde quietly snuch out of the mass of ballet girls and
approached Trowa from behind, lightly tugging his grey jacket to
catch his attention. Upon his turning toward her, she flashed a
bright smile saying, "Relena Peacecraft can sing it, sir."
His eyebrow cocked up a centimenter in question. "The ballerina?"
he asked skeptically rememberig the young blonde fumbling around the
stage. The hint of doubt of her having a voice was apparent in his
question. She answered with a vigorous nod.
Before he could release another word, Catherine was before him
reaffirming what Hilde had just said. "Yes, manager. Let her sing.
She will no doubt surprise you." She flagged the girl in question
over from her studdering practices. A worrying shadow clouded over
Relena's face as she watched the two managers.
Une's voice sound up behind her. "Relena, here." She led the young
girl over to the position by the old piano previously held by
Dorothy. The other four's gazes followed them in tow. The choral
instructor ordered from the beginning of the diva's aria of the small
singer while she flawlessly keyed out the piece's opening
accompanient.
"think of me-think of me fondly-when we've said-goodbye..." Relena's
soft voice floated through the large auditorium. A crystalline hint
in her song casting such a difference from Dorothy's golden tone upon
the pleading operatic aria. A sudden burst of breath lifted her
diamond-like melody across to the back of the chamber and up into the
rafters as she fell into the chorus of the solo. As Relena
continued, a surprised grin spread over Quatre's face and a pleased
curve perked up on Trowa's mouth. Hilde just watched with an
extremely proud expression on her own face.
All concentrated on the new discovery, no eye passed to the black
shade that stood reaffirming the backdrop's stability. It passed for
a moment to listen to the lovely tune before dashing off into a
shadowy corner and disappearing into its crannies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TBC..........