Chapter 69 Ballet Rat Tales
It's always been a given that ballet rats have mad imaginations, in fact as a whole we are most probably descended from them somewhere in our ancestry. But it struck me to discover that precisely the thoughts of the rats on a certain subject known as TW. The results were surprising to say the least. And the plot is still in the making, next chapter in factI think.
Be good and cheers Adibug
It was close to eleven o' clock when Adriana left her room, basket of masks and ribbons and whatnot cradled against her hip, she had figured four hours enough time for Erik to get over his grumps and her stomach was loudly reminding her that she hadn't eaten for quite some time.
To her surprise there was a gathering of ballet rats clustered on the stage, all talking together in hushed voices, a number of them appeared to be the same group she had threatened a few nights ago, Adriana growled something deep in her throat, "I thought I cured them of that already," she muttered. And now, oh hell they'd moved one of the curtains in the way of the tunnel she had been planning to take home, grumbling like a sour wombat she glanced up at the three level staircase that would lead her to the next closest and non trap ridden way down. "Now that's just not fair," she grouched.
As she paused to consider her options, Adriana caught a few snatches of the hushed conversation that made her stand up and pay attention.
"...and if she looks...turn to stone...chariot of invisible horses...veil hides a terrible fanged mouth..."
Adriana was definitely curious, were they talking about her? She drew a little closer to the stage, pulling her simple maid's skirt out of the way to stop it dragging on the floor and alerting the rats to her presence.
"The Phantom's messenger," Was that Little Jammes? Adriana craned her neck, it was! She counted heads silently, eight of them, Katiana, Minette, and that red head, what was her name?...Beatrice! That was it! Jammes of course, and a few others she didn't recognise. Then Minette began to speak, her voice so quiet that most of the girls had to lean forward to hear her speak, let alone Adriana stuck behind the curtain without a way home, shifting her basket onto her other hip she snuck forward a little further, silently cursing the cold that was freezing her feet to pieces as she hovered offstage. Unfortunately her feet were so cold that an ill placed piece of scenery was introduced to her foot, resulting in a resounding clatter echoing across the stage.
Every one of the Ballet rats squeaked and jammed in together, pale faced and ready to run at the next shift of a shadow.
Bugger Adriana had two options, turn and run, or sing out some random warning and run, what would it be...
"Wh-who's there?" Little Jammes called out, her voice high pitched and terrified. Adriana rolled her eyes and had a brainwave, "Pardon," she called lightly, clumsy on purpose she tripped her way out onto the stage, allowing the ballet rats a full view of a late working costumes maid, a victim of her own two left feet. "I was working late and backstage is so full of things!" she gave them a vapid smile, noting as shoulders relaxed, the group spread out a little and hesitant smiles were offered in return.
"It's awfully late for the costumers to still be out," Beatrice the Curious said, "Why are you working so late?"
In reply, Adriana reached into her basket and pulled out a Jack Sparrow-esque pirate hat and tilted it onto her head jauntily, "The New Years Ball of course," she giggled, then feigned fear, "You wont tell anyone will you? I'm only borrowing, I'll take it back I swear!"
Little Jammes flapped a hand carelessly, "So do we," she reassured the older girl, "What are you going as?"
Adriana's eyes sparkled, truth be told she had not thought that far ahead as to her own costume, "Pirate of course," she made a sweeping bow with her hat and set down her basket, a couple of the other girls leaned forward to peer inside and Adriana hurriedly slammed the lid shut, "Surprise," she apologised to the puzzled faces.
"I don't think I've seen you here before," Katiana said thoughtfully, "What's your name?"
"Well you wouldn't have," Adriana grinned, "I'm new, Lizzie Melenhorst," she gave another pirate bow, thinking to herself (I'm going to start running out of family names soon, I hope I don't need that many more pseudonyms). "Well welcome mademoiselle Lizzie to the Opera House, home to music, dancing and the dreaded Opera Ghost and the Theatre Wraith!" The rest of the girls introduced themselves and invited her to sit with them.
Adriana opened her eyes wide, "I've heard of the Opera Ghost," she whispered, "But the Theatre Wraith, who is he?"
"She," Minette corrected, Adriana blinked, "She's a woman?" Alright so she was vain, she wanted to know if she had a legend in the making or if she was just a kid waving her arms under a sheet cut with eyeholes. The ballet rats looked around like startled rabbits for a moment, and then gave into their need to gossip.
"She's the Phantom's consort, or his enemy," Beatrice frowned slightly, "No one really knows how close they are, or if they're even the same person,"
"Some say she is Persephone of the Underworld," Little Jammes leaned forward conspiratorially, "And that the Phantom isn't really a man as some said after the last fiasco, but Hades himself, keeping an eye on his bride during her months of freedom in the world above…" the girl's eyes were widened in excitement, her pert mouth pursed in the smug superiority of her theory.
"Don't be silly Jammes," the willowy Katiana scorned, hand unconsciously clutching the medallion she had not dared take off since the night she and the others had been confronted by the very topic of conversation, sitting crosslegged in a circle with the other ballet rats. "Why would a god have a house under the Opera?"
Little Jammes turned up her nose, "Maybe he likes the music," she replied in a lofty tone, "Who is to know why a god would chose such a place?"
"Especially with a singer like Carlotta squawking away for so long," Beatrice put in, the girls collapsed into giggles, Adriana hid a grin.
"She's an angel cast down from Heaven but who is hiding from Hell because she stole a star to keep for her own,"
"She is the ghost of a star!"
"Stars don't have ghosts!"
"How would you know Selanie? You cant even do an arabesque properly!"
"I can so Lena! And at least I practise instead of spending my time trying to climb the ropes up to the stage hands and pulling my bodice for them to see down!"
"How dare you!"
"Girls!" Adriana held her hands up between the two rats who looked ready to claw one another's eyes out, "Behave please," she fixed the blonde Selanie with a stern look, "You had better not be pulling at your clothes Selanie, I'm not going to get stuck mending ill fitting clothes just because you want to show off," Both girls glared at her sullenly and sat back, Adriana made no effort to hide the rolling of her eyes.
"Don't listen to them Mademoiselle Lizzie," Denelda confided, "The true story is that the Theatre Wraith is the ghost of a ballet dancer, or maybe the wife of one of the original builders who was accidentally killed one night under the full moon, and the Opera Ghost caught her soul in a crystal vial that he keeps around his neck, and she's forced to be his slave until he opens the vial and lets her go free."
"Really?" Adriana lifted the hat off her head and inspected the feathers, dusting along one edge with her sleeve. Encouraged, Denelda went on further,
"Oh yes! They say that the Ghost kept her as the Siren of the lake under the Opera House and it was her who seduced the Christine Daae, who is soon to become the Vitcomtess de Chagny, down below because she thought that if the Ghost fell in love with a real mortal he would let the Theatre Wraith go free."
And I thought I was good, Adriana mourned to herself, these girls have got the beat over me any day. "That is an interesting theory," she murmured, "Tell me, what does the Wraith look like?"
Hot Topic.
"Nobody knows!" Little Jammes hissed, "She always wears a veil, sheer black,"
"Spun by cursed spiders from Hell," Beatrice added, "And if you ever look on her she'll turn you to stone!"
"And why is that?" Adriana asked curiously,
"Oh because she's so terrifyingly ugly that if you look on her you die of shock!" Katiana cried, crossing her hands over her heart.
"No she's not!" Minette argued, "She's beautiful, Frances told me so, he saw her once, up in the flies, gliding about like her feet didn't touch the boards and leaving a sparkling trail of mist behind her, she's so beautiful that if you ever look on her your heart will stop at her sheer loveliness,"
"Well we saw her just the other night!" Beatrice cut in, Katiana grabbed her medallion, "She was terrifying,"
"Really?" Adriana leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands, "What did she do?"
Katiana was white, "I don't want to talk about it," she murmured in a strangled whisper, Adriana shrugged, "Very well then," and she turned her attention to an argument between Jammes and Minette, fighting in soft whispers over the appearance of the Theatre Wraith.
"Her hair is blonde!"
"It's brown!"
"Blonde I tell you!"
"I'll wager my favourite comb it's brown,"
Beatrice joined in, "You're both wrong, it's red,"
"It is not!"
"I dare say the Wraith neither knows nor cares for your opinion of her hair," Adriana interrupted the fight, idly lifting up a lock of her own mousey blonde.
Jammes shot her a scornful look, "Of course she doesn't care, the Wraith doesn't care about anything,"
"And how do you know that?"
"Well why would she be here if she did? Real people love and want to be with friends, and if she is real, why did she leave her family and friends? Or if she's an orphan from the streets, which is the real storyI think, and who the Phantom is training as his replacement, why does she like it here so much?"
"Maybe she thought there was something here worth staying for," Adriana murmured, blinking back a sharp tear, Jammes' attack had cut deeper than she realised.
"The Phantom?" Selanie sniggered, "That's just a fairytale,"
"Well sometimes legends can be more real than what you eat for breakfast of a morning," Adriana replied, turning her hat over in her fingers.
"You cant live on stories," Katiana argued, Adriana looked at her with grey eyes, "Perhaps," the girl agreed, "But life isn't worth living if you have to go without them."
Silence reigned for a moment, then one of the girls spoke.
"So Mademoiselle Lizzie, what do you think?" Beatrice asked excitedly, Adriana sighed, "I think I need to start taking notes," she murmured, "You girls all have very active imaginations,"
"But it's true!" Katiana protested, Adriana held up her hands in surrender, "I've no doubt of it, but I fail to see how anyone can be both beautiful and ugly, and both friendly and dangerous at the same time,"
The rats glared at her, "It's magic," Jammes said,
"Oh," somewhere in the foyer, a clock struck eleven, "Well I'm to bed," Adriana climbed to her feet and bowed, collecting her basket, "It was nice to meet you girls," she strode from the stage, pausing to wave as the rats themselves stretched and yawned and made their way to the dorms. Adriana watched them go with a sigh, absentmindedly twirling a lock of hair over and around her fingers, once the last of them had gone she slipped across the stage and to the trap door, suddenly very much in need of a hug from the dark and tormented man she had sworn herself to beneath the stage. The takes on her appearance had been fun, but for now, she needed to be herself, and that was why she needed Erik.