Round 3 ends 28 November 2022 at 15:00GMT



Inspiration Board | Playlist | City Guide
Khoyesa - capital and the heartlands of the Khivalon Empire, with trade routes, diplomats, merchants, artisans and more passing through its city gates day in, day out. This is a world where magic and technology marry and intertwine, creating spectacles and wonders that defy explanation and physics. In the midst of this place, however, sits a burnt-out building, still magnificent and imposing despite its ruined facade: the Risskov Theatre.

Once Khoyesa’s pride and joy, it held host to the Circus of Marvels, a troupe of performers whose show drew dignitaries across the Empire, turning it into one of the hottest attractions in the City. Five years ago, the Circus was due to perform what it called “the show to end all shows”. Its theme? To showcase the eternal. Which mostly sounds pretentious and grandiose, but such was the Ringmaster’s proclivities.

All this came to a screeching halt on dress rehearsal night: a fire broke out, claiming the lives of several, vanishing into the twisted, blackened beams and the inferno. It has lain dormant ever since, and its resident troupe scattering to the winds. No one has stepped forth to tear it down: officially, it is stuck in bureaucracy, competing interests trying to claim the land for their own. But unofficially, workers say so much setting foot into it makes you uneasy, and one could hear faintly music playing away.

You are one of the many whose lives orbited the Theatre, and have picked up your lives ever since. Then one day, five years after the tragedy, a cream envelope arrives at your address, penned in flowing, golden script: The Ringmaster requests the honour of your presence at the Risskov Theatre…

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Welcome back! This time, the contest starts in earnest. Khoyesa is a city I dreamt up a long, long time ago, a mixture of magic and technology - but I like to think mostly grounded in earth. As mentioned, you will get to pick out locations to investigate, as is usual. The stories are mostly self-contained, but if you wish, you can interact with other writers. Swapping clues and mysteries are, as always, highly encouraged. Explore. Speak to your interests. See what you can find - and see if you can piece together the mystery of the Risskov Theatre.

Rules

✬  This contest is five rounds. The first four rounds last 120 hours; the last one lasts 72 hours.
Yes, the last round will be the shortest, but that’s only because I expect it to be short. Maybe I’ll end up truncating it - but it’ll depend on the progress.

✬  Outfits can be edit or non-edit.
This is fairly straightforward.

✬  One entry per participant, with a consistent look and personality throughout the contest.
This means while you are free to change certain features (e.g. hair colour, makeup, etc), it must be explained and commented on in story.

✬  All forum rules apply - and keep things PG-13.
If you want to write anything 16+ and include it in your story… just PM it to me. I’ll count it in your story.

✬  Five complete sentences minimum, but no maximum.
TL;DR - quality over quantity! Don’t feel the pressure to write novellas - this is meant to be fun, not an assignment. However, bullet points generally are not accepted, unless you can make it work as a story in itself. In which case - go crazy.

✬  No OOC.
If you have doubts as to how characters will act, ask. I will generally allow it if it makes sense for the character. No, I’m not as harsh as my reputation might suggest.

✬  My personal rule: no shock value.
In short: no sexual assault, no gratuitous gore and violence, etc.  Rule of thumb is: is this necessary? Likely, 99.9% of the time, the answer is no. And yes, you can write about violence without talking about how brutally someone has been assaulted in graphic detail. If I see it in your story, I reserve the right to withhold impressions till you amend your story, or skip them entirely if you refuse to change it.

*****************

“Places to Investigate”

As with my previous contests, there will be locations for you to pick and choose, to look for clues - and to ask me about, if that’s your fancy. This won’t come into play until Round 2, where I open up the city - and the Theatre for you to look at.

As you’ll notice, there’s a little map that’s been annotated with numbers and locations. At the start of each round, you can pick up to a specified number of locations to investigate. When the next round starts, I’ll have PM’d you the information, and it’s up to you as to whether you want to share it or not with other participants or other interests. Well, initially anyway.

You can follow up either with what information you have, or from the information you read from the snippets I post. If you want to do so, tell me what specific information you want to follow up with, and where.

On a completely unrelated note - if you share your information, people are likelier to give you a clue where next to look if you need it. Good luck!

On Magic

As I have mentioned, Khoyesa is a world with magic and technology, where there are magic users - mages, witches, warlocks, sorcerers - that walk the streets of the city with you. Ordinary, everyday marvels are accomplished, and it’s not uncommon to hear people buying potions or simple scrolls for day-to-day use.

However, of course, magic isn’t the cure-all and end-all of everything in Khoyesa. After all, much like physics and chemistry and biology, there are rules, requirements - things that you can consider when you delve into the mystery and the beauty of Khoyesa…

1. Cantrips (small, magical effects) are quite common. These involve simple things like making small sparks of fire, levitating small, everyday objects a certain distance, cleaning yourself, and harmless little effects like glittering, sparkling, or changing your voice for a brief period of time. These effects last no more than a minute.
2. The stronger the magic, the more it saps from your natural “pool” of mana. Each person naturally has a reserve of magic, but only the well-trained will have enough to use said magic offensively - or defensively.
3. If you attempt magic beyond your natural “pool”, there is always a cost. Whether it be expensive, magical items, or the cost of someone’s life.
4. Magic that can affect whole areas are almost always powered by something external, whether it be a rare magical artifact, life force, or other similarly potent mixtures. However, these spells and rituals are highly regulated - anyone who tries to do one beyond the supervision of the Khoyesan government is committing a serious offence.
5. Training can either be self-taught, or studying at one of the many magical institutions in the Khivalon Empire. These gradually expand a person’s pool of magic over a period of time - a minimum of five years. Think of it this way: a piece of metal, slowly hammered out over time through repeated heating and cooling.
6. There are those with an insanely large pool of magic upon birth, but those are rare. As in, “once in a while someone actually finds a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow” rare. Or “a God is spontaneously born” rare.

Contest rounds
Round 1: Ends 17 November 2022 - 15:00GMT
Round 2: Ends 23 November 2022 - 15:00GMT
Round 3: Ends 28 November 2022 - 15:00GMT
Round 4: Ends 3 December 2022 - 15:00GMT
Round 5:  Ends 6 December 2022 - 15:00GMT

Last edited by Jadis (23/11/2022 at 16:29)

Anette Eifagem, the Ringmaster

Name: Anette Eifagem

Role: The Ringmaster

Age: 42

Gender: Female

Face Claim: Caroline Forsling

Traits: Ambitious, creative, flamboyant, passionate // Mercurial, extravagant, sly, unrealistic

Status:
Missing, presumed dead

Description:
How do you even begin to explain Anette Eifageim? A thousand stories abound about the ringmaster of the Circus, and no one has been able to confirm them: some say she came with nary but the clothes on her back, clawed her way up through the gutter and into the sparkling spotlight of the Risskov Theatre; others say she is an escaped noblewoman, spurning an arranged marriage and determined to let her creativity fly. Whatever the truth, one thing is for certain: under her helm, the Circus had grown to ever-loftier heights and become the centrepiece of high society. Even so, it seemed as though nothing could satisfy her - not the success, not the rave reviews from every newspaper, not the hushed awe her shows inspired. For Anette was never content to rest on her laurels, seeking out new ways to transcend the medium of stage and circus pageantry. Of course, there were downsides: she was prone to scrapping ideas on a whim, and often had to be reined in by her colleagues and more practical, worldly concerns. At the height of the Circus’ fame, she perished in the flames, never to be found. And so her legend lives on…

Ganz Coldwell, The Concertmaster

Name: Ganz Coldwell

Role:  The Concertmaster

Age: 39

Gender: Male

Face Claim: Cailin Sitar

Traits: Patient, steady, generous, driven // Hesitant, selfish, unreadable, oblivious

Status:
Alive, conducting another orchestra

Description:
If Anette was the fizzing, glittering spark of the circus, Ganz was the reliable, steady fuel feeding into the fire, letting the show burn bright and brilliant among the stars. After all, what was a show without its music, its lifeblood? He was known to be affable and impeccably patient - a necessity when your creative partner is the highly volatile mix that makes up Anette. Most people prefer to deal with him than Anette, finding him kinder, more open-hearted, with more focus on the matter at hand  - and more importantly, by far less likely to change his mind the next morning. However, there is steel belying his warmer, patient exterior: whoever is willing - and brave enough - to stand up to Anette and not lose his head or job over it is not a person to be trifled with, even if he keeps a placid face on. After the fire, he found himself working with yet another orchestra, having moved on from the tragedy. Now, he splits his time conducting and sitting on various committees, arguing for more investment in the city’s cultural gems.

Cyprien Ledrau, the Investor

Name: Cyprien Ledrau

Role: The Investor

Age: 36

Gender: Male

Face Claim: Gonçalo Teixeira

Traits: Intelligent, charming, analytical, pragmatic  // Apathetic, self-centred, harsh, distant

Status:
Alive, seeking out new investment opportunities

Description:
If you’re in the glitterati, you would know of Cyprien Ledrau - and if you were in the business world, then you would try to know him at all costs. Perhaps one of the richest men in Khoyesa, if not the Empire, he grows his empire through a combination of mercantile trade and well-placed bets, and has collected many gems in his portfolio. One of his many diamonds - or to be accurate, one of his crown jewels was the Risskov Theatre, and in the years that followed, he was a prolific patron of both the Theatre and the Circus. In the years going through his investments, he has almost never put a foot wrong: he combines his intellect with charm, so that he has his pick of potential  to choose from. But the Gods forbid you fall foul of him, or fall short of his expectations: his disappointment can be immeasurable, and he can certainly ensure your day is ruined without so much of a second thought. Not that it’s out of malice or a desire to see someone be destitute - but he has his own interests to look out for, and he seems to be ever reaching for higher heights. Following the fire, he has moved on to other companies and other opportunities, but in private, when asked, something flashes across his face: melancholy? Regret? Whatever it is, he keeps tight-lipped, and carries on.

Isabel Melloy, the Accountant

Name: Isabel Melloy

Role: The Accountant

Age: 31

Gender: Female

Face Claim: Gugu Mbatha

Traits: Detailed, careful, soft-spoken, measured // Insecure, hesitant, unsociable, repetitive

Status:
Alive, running her own accounting firm

Description:
The much put-upon accountant of the Theatre, Isabel was the one who made sure the lights were on, that the performers were paid, and that there would still be enough budget leftover for the show to actually afford the glittering costumes, sets, and special effects each time the show is performed. She keeps a hawk-like watch on the accounts, and very little escapes her gaze - and Gods forbid if you forget to file an expenses report or charge more than the receipt actually says. Her attention and dedication, however, came at a cost: while she ran a tight ship on the accounts, she has very few friends, and can come off as reticent, unsociable. For those who knew her, however, found her to be a sympathetic ear, always offering sound advice and measured opinions. In the years leading up to the fire, she was noticeably staying longer and longer hours at the Theatre, growing quieter than she had ever been. Still, she never quite lost her temper, simply growing more withdrawn and exasperated. After the tragedy, she escaped and left to start her own accounting firm, servicing a small, loyal, but more importantly, wealthy clientele

Reeva Panayi, the Playwright

Name: Reeva Panayi

Role: The Playwright

Age: 35

Gender: Female

Face Claim: Malaika Holmen

Traits:
Eloquent, imaginative, focused, thorough // Melancholy, temperamental, awkward, withdrawn

Status:
Alive, preparing for a new publication

Description:
In the twilight hours of the Theatre, many have reported seeing a pale, ghostly figure drifting through its corridors, their face a mien of agony, sometimes muttering to themselves. While Khoyesa has its share of magic, superstition, and urban legend, this “ghostly figure” is the figure of the playwright, Reeva, out on a walk hoping for inspiration to strike. For where Anette has her concepts, her ideas, Reeva is the one who translates it to scant moments of dialogue, lyrics, and spoken word. Having been born and groomed to be an aspiring poet laureate, Reeva eventually gave it all up to do something she’d always wanted - and ran away to the circus, where she met Anette. She has stayed by the Ringmaster’s side ever since. Most of the time, she is quiet and prone to fits of melancholy, but leave her alone long enough, and her imagination takes off - and with it, the disparate threads of Anette’s ideas, Ganz’s music, and the elegant physicality of the performers blend together. Off-stage, one might find a quiet, thoughtful woman, prone to mood swings and hard to converse with - but her loyalty is hard-won, and her focus is second-to-none. Ever since the fire, she has only grown more withdrawn, but her acclaim in Khoyesa is widespread, and has dedicated followers trying to catch a glimpse of her.

Kelsahn Boudec, the Set Designer

Name: Kelsahn Boudec

Role: The Set Designer

Age: 33

Gender: Male

Face Claim: Sebastian Stan

Traits:
Optimistic, humorous, hands-on, skilled // Excitable, highly-strung, unbridled, chaotic

Status:
Alive, working as a toymaker and watchmaker

Description:
Stepping into Kelsahn’s workshop-office is… an experience. Said experience might vary: some have found it enlightening, while others find it a hazardous environment where it’s likely you might walk out nursing a scratch or a bump or a bruise.The only things that are safely stowed away are his tools for building dioramas and sets. Conversations with him too swing between entertaining and tiring: entertaining, because he marries optimism with a wicked sense of humour, often being a fount of knowledge and trivia; tiring because his mind goes a hundred miles a minute, bouncing from tangent to tangent - or in some cases, completely forgetting said tangent and leaving him stood there, somewhat stunned before he latches onto the next passing thought. Despite all that, he never seems to lose track of exactly what he wants, and the sets he builds are engineering marvels on his own: a mix of magic and clockwork, sometimes seemingly held up by nothing but its own weight. When the fire struck, it took with it his life’s work, and he swore off the stage. Now he works as - and has found moderate success - as a toymaker and watchmaker. He might not be as exuberant, but he remains the cheerful optimist he was in the Circus.

Venezia Hayward, the Diva

Name: Venezia Hayward

Role: The Diva

Age: 37

Gender: Female

Face Claim: Emeraude Toubia

Traits:
Precocious, charismatic, adaptable, sultry // High-maintenance, jealous, wilful, condescending

Status:
Missing, presumed dead

Description:
Venezia has had a long and illustrious career even before she made it to Khoyesa. A precocious talent from a tender age, she started touring in gilded salons, drifting higher and higher up in the world - only for her to vanish for five years without a trace when she hit twenty. When she re-emerged, the world went wild - and she’s led a charmed life ever since. Opportunities seem to simply fall into her lap, and she’s savvy enough to milk them for all it’s worth. For a while, she toured the Empire, but when Anette approached her, promising her a residency at the Theatre in exchange for occasional appearances at the Circus… well, she just had to take it, didn’t she? Crowds entranced by her apparent angelic appearance flock to her shows, whether they be solo or with the Circus - and they sell out every time she appears. But more legendary still is her rivalry and feud with Rochelle Ohlsen, the two women apparently refusing to share the same stage at any one time - or share the same corridor when off-stage. For when the Theatre was only big enough for one singer - and that was her. Even if Anette and Ganz both believe otherwise. Of course, she went from legend to myth when she vanished in the flames of the Theatre fire…

Rochelle Ohlsen, the Vaudevillian

Name: Rochelle Ohlsen

Role: The Vaudevillian

Age: 35

Gender: Female

Face Claim: Arizona Muse

Traits:
Hardworking, dedicated, clever, fast-talking // Relentless, single-minded, grudge-bearing, impulsive

Status:
Missing, presumed dead

Description:
If Venezia was the golden girl with all the opportunities she wanted, Rochelle was the scrappy, up-and-up performer who fought tooth and nail to get what she wanted, where she wanted. She had the beginnings of a vocalist, but famously taught herself how to sing - and perform, dancing and tip-tapping her way from grimy back rooms to cabaret to where she is now today. Marrying a powerful voice with vaudeville-esque dance routines, she is perhaps arguably the most charismatic popular singer in Khoyesa. A critic once observed that there is nothing Rochelle could not master, but behind that is her drive and her willingness to grind herself to dust if it meant getting her way and what she wanted. Her single-mindedness is both admirable and terrifying - her dedication matched only by how long she can bear a slight or a grudge. Perhaps it was this mix that put her in direct conflict with Venezia, the girl who seemed to have chances to simply fall onto her lap - and be equally patronising about what she had. She made no secret of how intolerable she found her fellow singer - but what reconciliation that Anette might have tried to broker fell apart in the flames, taking the woman with it.

Olledi Rokir, the Starlet

Name: Olledi Rokir

Role: The Starlet

Age: 26

Gender: Female

Face Claim: Olivia deJonge

Traits: Courteous, playful, glamorous, realistic // Camera-shy, blunt, anxious, pessimistic

Status:
Missing, presumed dead

Description:
Olledi was one of the most recognisable faces during the heyday of the Theatre: renowned for her beautiful, sultry voice, she prefers to whisper her songs in smoke-filled rooms, playing to a discerning - and wealthy - clientele. Classically trained like her mentor Venezia Hayward, people would say the two were cut from the same cloth. But where Venezia is impolite - apparently insensitively so - Olledi seems to have a hyperawareness of what to say to whom, and how to stay on their good side. Off the stage, however, she is a veritable recluse, to the despair of her mentor who’d much rather her apprentice hobnob with the up-and-coming to secure her future. Still, despite her mentor’s rivalry with Rochelle, she and Ronan have formed an odd friendship - while denying the two would ever be together. All the speculation came to an end when she too disappeared after the fire - and is now presumed dead. Fittingly tragic, as some would say, for a beautiful starlet.

Ronan Ohlsen

Name: Ronan Ohlsen

Role: The Crooner

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Face Claim: Anton Thiemke

Traits: Confident, romantic, diligent, insightful // Flirtatious, pretentious, fickle, disorganised

Status:
Missing, presumed dead

Description:
The adoptive son of Rochelle Ohlsen, Ronan has gone from vivacious street urchin to vivacious charmer, able to play to the crowd and charm the pants off anyone and everyone. No stranger to adoring crowds mobbing him wherever he goes, he is equally at home crooning soft ballads or belting out stage-stopping tunes. But the same way a swan works hard to glide gracefully above water, he works exhaustively and diligently to maintain his image and his showmanship, believing in hard work and fair play. Still, he gains and loses interest in things as quickly as they come, and he has an apparent aversion to keeping things organised - whether it be in his life or his schedule. Rumours have swirled about him and Olledi are an “item”, despite the two denying it for years - only intensifying in the aftermath of the fire. After all, what is more romantic than two star-crossed lovers finally reuniting in apparent death?

Kialmirn Almassi, the Escape Artist

Name: Kialmirn Almassi

Role: The Escape Artist

Age: 31

Gender: Male

Face Claim: Nassim Lyes

Traits:
Caring, observant, protective, thoughtful // Overbearing, wilful, crude, neurotic

Status:
Alive, volunteering as teacher

Description:
A street orphan who grew up begging, Kialmirn - Key to his friends - had perhaps the roughest start to his life, getting into scraps, gangs, stealing, pickpocketing - the works. He’s not shy about that particular part, although he refuses to get into the details. As he grew older (as he tells it), he mellowed out, found his particular calling in getting out of tricky places - and found himself at the Risskov Theatre after leaving his last employer behind. Perhaps as a result of his rough upbringing, he looks out for everyone in the troupe, making sure that they have a sympathetic shoulder to lean on - or cry on, if the need arises. Somewhat surprising, given that his particular act in the circus is to escape from dangerous situations - sometimes from an entire building altogether - and arrive safely in the Theatre. Still, he has a rougher, tougher side: his stubborn, sailor-sweary side of him surfaces in times of stress or where things aren’t going the way they should. One can only imagine how much swearing he was doing as he was co-ordinating the rescue efforts that night. Nowadays, he’s found working as a volunteer at a social enterprise, and seems very much content to stay where he is.

Tajun Yinro, the Acrobat

Name: Tajun Yinro

Role: The Acrobat

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Face Claim: Paing Takhon

Traits:
Elegant, confident, precise, mesmerising // Vain, melodramatic, finicky, exacting

Status:
Alive, still performing

Description:
Watching Tajun work is always a marvel: under the spotlight, he soars through the air on his trapeze, each swing more audacious, daring than the last, until he finally completes his routine - to clamorous applause, gasps, and on more than one occasion, gifts thrown at him by his adoring fans. Do not ask what gifts have been given, partly because it’s discourteous, and also because he has a principle of no kissing and telling. Still, there is no denying his confidence onstage, where every movement is deliberate, carefully selected for both spectacle and heart-stopping thrill. This carries on off-stage too, where the man seems to know exactly what sort of fascination he can inspire - and chooses his actions to either achieve the greatest effect, or prompt the greatest amusement. This has, of course, prompted accusations of him being too vain and finicky about his standards, but he shrugs those off: after all, what room is there to reconsider when his attitude has served him so well, and has kept him well away from being injured? After the fire, he joined a smaller, but no less exclusive theatre troupe, playing to dedicated crowds night after night, an unflappable, brilliant smile on his face - as if the tragedy had never happened.

Nemal Dinaer, the Daredevil

Name: Nemal Dinaer

Role: The Daredevil

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Face Claim: Sacha M’Baye

Traits:
Fun-loving, relaxed, risk-taking, discreet // Snarky, indulgent, reckless, unrepentant

Status:
Alive, resting between expeditions

Description:
If Kialmirn was the responsible older brother in the troupe, Nemal is… the terrible voice in the wings often encouraging you to do extremely reckless things. Which shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone, given he’s the one on stage either paired up with Tajun, or just doing crazy stunts to shock and thrill - sometimes gasp. Each stunt he takes not as something potentially life-ending, but as a challenge to be overcome, and when he’s done, he’s hungry to move onto something else. Despite all this, Nemal might be the most easy-going man in the circus, almost entirely unflappable and taking odd happenings in his stride. After all, if he was startled every time something out of the ordinary occurred, he’d have a hard time keeping track of things going on around him. Almost always found in other theatres or bar districts off-duty, the man has been known to be of rapier wit when out and about socialising, with a snarkiness that either gets him a laugh or punched. And he has gotten into multiple scraps, coming back with injuries. Not that it has stopped him from performing. After the Theatre’s tragedy, he now travels the world as a freelance expeditioner, going to far flung places and taking in everything the world has to offer.

Lyra Shillmoor, the Contortionist

Name: Lyra Shillmoor

Role: The Contortionist

Age: 29

Gender: Female

Face Claim: Nour Rizk

Traits:
Enigmatic, controlled, unemotional, altruistic // Prickly, aloof, loner, antisocial

Status:
Alive, but location unknown

Description:
Perhaps the unfriendliest of the performers amongst the Circus, Lyra has nevertheless carved out her own niche: aloof, at times completely unapproachable, but the feats of physicality she is capable of has drawn countless crowds. Enough that Anette specifically headhunted her and asked her to join the Circus in its early founding days. Not that anyone has been able to tell: one never asks a lady her age, and she looks as if she’s frozen in her mid-twenties, her expression giving nothing away. Whenever she comes onstage, a hush falls over the crowd as she twists and contorts herself, sometimes drawing a gasp or two as she vanishes into impossibly small spaces. When she is off-stage and off-duty, however, the impression one gets is that - she doesn’t care about much beyond her art and her performances. The kindest explanation is that she is detached, not easily affected; the crueller commentators call her arrogant, condescending, with barely an emotion except indifference. Yes, some say she has a warmer side, but no one’s sure who she’s shown the warmer side to. Still, this is one thing that may have to be committed to hearsay and speculation - for after the fire, after emerging from the burning wreckage, she promptly vanished from Khoyesa, and nary a person has tracked her down after.

Andrei Sola, the Strongman

Name: Andrei Sola

Role: The Strongman

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Face Claim: Mark Becher

Traits:
Straightforward, earnest, loyal, charming // Gullible, unsuspecting, tempestuous, stubborn

Status:
Alive, volunteering as coach

Description:
His face featured prominently on a good deal of the Circus’ advertisements, Andrei was born into a circus family. What separated him from an ordinary performer, however, was his innate, almost supernatural strength, lifting heavy loads without ever breaking a sweat. When he was old enough, he decided to try and settle in a city, put down some roots. It took him to Khoyesa, where he met with Ganz Coldwell - and he has been with the Circus ever since, having been billed as their “strongman”. Perhaps due to how versatile being a strongman is, he rotates through his acts: from balancing a full stack of furniture on one hand, to supporting a troupe stage with dancers on his back. Once, someone (jokingly) asked him to balance an elephant on his back - and he would’ve agreed, if not for Tajun almost immediately intervening. For once off-stage, Andrei is earnest, whole-hearted - and takes everyone and everything at face value and in good faith. It has landed him in trouble before, some even saying it makes him easy to manipulate - but the flipside of this is that his temper, when roused, is legendary, and he is prone to rash decisions when he finds himself in one of those tempestuous moods. After the tragedy, he too volunteers, and runs little league games with the local children.

Lenn, the Fan

Name: Lenn

Role: The Fan

Age: 29

Gender: Female

Face Claim: Aisling Francioisi

Traits:
Enthusiastic, honest, goofy, knowledgeable // Nosy, disorganised, ardent, fanciful

Status:
Alive, conducting research

Description:
Lenn is the more restrained kind of fan: still dedicated enough to wait overnight for box tickets, knows almost all the shows that the Circus has put on by heart, and probably has more collectable souvenirs than most. Despite all that - or perhaps precisely because she knows what sort of impression she wants to avoid - Lenn keeps it very separate from her day job as an academic researcher. An associate lecturer and doctorate student at the St. Danserd Institute of Magical Research, Lenn deals in history of magic and popular entertainment - and heads to the Risskov Theatre in her downtime when the research gets too much. She’s known mostly by Reeva, who likes to have her around to pick her brains on history, if nothing else, but is otherwise a regular fixture at the shows.  In her work and research, her love and enthusiasm for her subject is clear, as she hops from topic to topic and races ahead making associations and hypotheses; but that love and enthusiasm can boil over into being a busybody, sometimes poking her nose into places and matters that are very much, very clearly off-limits. It’s not deterred her before though. Her heart was broken when the Theatre went up in flames, and she threw herself back into her research, hoping to finish her thesis - and to memorialise the place she loved.

Moren Lockwood, the Critic

Name: Moren Lockwood

Role: The Critic

Age: 36

Gender: Male

Face Claim: Benoit Marechal

Traits:
Witty, discerning, multi-tasker, eidetic// Acerbic, combative, peevish, overworked

Status:
Alive, and earned a position as a Theatre and Arts columnist

Description:
Shows and plays live and die by the audience and their tastes. That may be true, but in Khoyesa, they also live and die by how they’re received by critics - and Moren has built up a reputation for being one of the most formidable and difficult-to-please critics in the city. Cutting their teeth first by covering small town hall performances and little-known singers, he slowly drew an audience both for his erudite commentary and his near-perfect recall of every detail in the room. However, where Moren was perceptive and blessed with excellent memory, he has also never backed away from a fight, often writing opinions in response skewering his critics’ arguments. He’s had a mixed reaction to the Circus, alternately praising their showmanship, but criticising what he saw as excessive spectacle. Still, whether it be out of genuine respect for the Circus’ skills, or as a trembling sliver of an olive branch, he had never gone to the point of no return for his criticisms. When the Theatre burnt down, he wrote what essentially amounted to an eulogy for the long-gone Circus and moved on. Great shows could live in legend, but as he lived, there were other performances to enjoy or to skewer.

Vivi, the Urchin

Name: Vivi

Role:The Urchin

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Face Claim: Iva Vavarchuk

Traits:
Impish, bright, cheerful, perceptive // Evasive, scatter-brained, hard to understand, probably touched in the head

Status:
Missing, status unsure

Description:
Stick around the Theatre in the after hours, and you’ll invariably hear the pitter-patter of someone in the rafters. That someone is Vivi, an unofficial fixture and apparently mood-brightener of the Risskov Theatre. Known for her bright, cheerful demeanour, and somewhat odd sense of problem-solving, she was discovered hiding and living in the rafters - and has hung around the place ever since, doing odd jobs and playing courier and errand girl on demand. She seems to have eyes and ears everywhere, but keeps to herself - and deflects, and deflects, and deflects if she’s asked any sort of question. When the Theatre was still around, she often enjoyed popping out of corners to scare them - or sometimes hanging out in Kelsahn’s workshop, gleeful helper and enabler of some of his zanier schemes. One tell-tale sign of her presence, however, is her perpetual companion Rara - a strange-looking bird she insists is a songbird, but whom no one believes. After all, songbirds don’t grow to the size of a peregrine falcon, nor do they look that eerily sentient. Still, the two were a regular fixture until the Theatre burnt down. Vivi lost her home - and no one has kept track of where she ended up. After all, who actually cares about a street urchin, when the beautiful and glamorous perished in the same tragedy?

Last edited by Jadis (14/11/2022 at 14:13)

Sometimes, your life at the Risskov Theatre seems like a half-remembered dream. You remember where you were when the flames started spreading, how the rafters smouldered above the auditorium. You remember the gasps, the applause from the audience, who all thought it was part of the show. But none of the rehearsals ever involved pyrotechnics or fire magic quite the same way as this one. No - these were different - something very off…

But the shouts of Khoyesa draw you back to the present, to where you are. Your new routine, built five years after the Risskov Theatre burnt down, reduced to a grand, blackened ruin in the Borough of the Welcoming. You go about your day as usual - and then when you return, there is an envelope waiting. Cream-coloured. You look - and you recognise the insignia. It’s the crest of the Risskov Theatre, and when you open it, your heart stops: Anette Eifageim, the Ringmaster of the Circus of Marvels, has invited you to join the opening night of Aeternalis. That is, the show you were meant to be rehearsing for…

You review the invitation. It seems legitimate. Clear, even - come in your finest wear. Out of curiosity, you wander by the old, burnt out ruin, and you realise with a start: it’s whole again. Intact. And no one seems to be paying attention to the fact that the Theatre is clean, sparkling again. And fully built. There’s even a functioning ticket booth, and when you approach it and present your invitation, you’re reassured that it will be coming, and that it will be an occasion not to miss.

The next day, one of your old compatriots from the Theatre pays a visit, asking if you’ve received the invitation. So it’s not just you: by the sound of it, the old crew is being called back to the burnt out ruin. There’s talk of it being a hoax, a prank of course, but something in the back of your mind is niggling at you, as if tempting you to go and see for yourself…

The night you arrive, the Theatre is back to its glory: blazing lights, musicians playing in the wings. There are theatregoers flooding into the gates, exactly like you remember it. You are ushered into the auditorium, where a dancefloor has been set up, couples waltzing. You mingle, chat, reconnect - and then onto the stage comes Anette Eifageim, resplendent in her tailored suit, welcoming you all. She invites you to chat, to mingle, before the show begins. Then she just - vanishes, like an illusion, to the applause of all.

The drinks and reception stretches on, but as it approaches midnight, no one has called you to the main auditorium for the show to begin. Everyone is now looking a little worried, hushed voices. This is atypical, you hear someone say, receptions have never run this long. You know it’s never run this far overtime. Never mind that there’s a question of whether the show is even a thing. Then, a bell starts to toll - far, distant, and a strange electric hum fills the air.

The next thing you know, you’re back in your bed at your home. The clock is no longer at midnight, but at ten in the evening. You’re still in your finery. You sit up, wondering what had just happened - but you’re in your finery, nowhere near the Theatre. When you stand up, head to the mirror, examining yourself: then you see it. There’s a faint flower-shaped mark on your wrist, with no explanation…

Timeline Reference:
For this round, you’re going by weeks. The time frame will be stretched out in the next rounds.
✬  Week 1: The arrival of the invitation
✬  Start of Week 2: Reconnecting with your chosen interests before the premiere of Aeternalis
✬  End of Week 2: The opening night of Aeternalis, and the appearance of the strange flower-mark

Round Requirements:
Name:
Face claim:
Age:
Role:
Interests: (No more than 3)

Outfit: The outfit that your character wears to the premiere
Story: (Please end your story with discovering the mark on your wrist)

If there are any questions, PM me - due to time zones, I might take a bit, but I’ll get back to you ASAP. Good luck, and most importantly - have fun!

Last edited by Jadis (12/11/2022 at 15:12)

Beatrix

Moren can be found in the grand ballroom, socialising with all sorts of people. He seems pleasantly surprised to see you, and compliments you on your work with the Aurum Belles - after all, he is a critic, and he has attended these performances before. For most part, he is content to make small talk and is quite charming - less of his acid edge as usual. In fact, he’s almost gentlemanly in the conversation, talking the usual pleasantries about post-Theatre life, both conspicuously avoiding the whole “invitation announced out of nowhere” topic. That said, he will let slip that he was surprised that Anette even agreed to host Venezia and Rochelle’s duet, given the bad blood that led to it. However, he will not say anything more about the topic, smilingly telling you he spoke a little too much. He will be in the ballroom when the bells go off.

Ronan you run into in the ballroom - he seems pleased to see you, actually, but he seems distracted by the situation, with a thousand people clamouring for his attention. Unsurprising, really, given that he was supposedly dead in the fire. If you approach him, he will ask to catch up with you, but is surprisingly dicey about where he’s been. If you press him, his smile will waver, and he’ll tell you he’ll speak with you later on about it. His attention is quickly swept away by his adoring fans. You will be able to see him on and off throughout the evening, vanishing close to eleven o’clock before the bell strikes.

Cyprien you might run into coming out one of your performances for the week: he’s been considering sponsoring one of the Aurum Belles’ upcoming performances, and will stop to make small talk with you as he remembers you from the Theatre. At this point, he won’t have received the invitation yet, so if you ask him about it, he’ll seem surprised by the fact invitations are going out - especially given the Theatre, as far as he knows, has been burnt down. That’s the end of it, but you will still see him at the premiere, business face on, but you’ll see him looking contemplative. When you approach him, he’ll apologise for doubting you got the invitation, but express his concerns. If pressed, he’ll tell you when the Theatre burned down, he thought Anette dead. And yet, and to see the woman here, apparently alive and well… This will be the only time you see irritation cross his face, but he will not elaborate.

Ivory

Kelsahn will find you on the day of the premiere, seemingly in good spirits as he wanders through the Theatre. Given your parting last time, he will somewhat cautiously enquire about your current status and catch up, sharing a little bit about his work as both toymaker and clockmaker. He will also point out to you a large clockwork centrepiece high up above the ballroom, telling you that he’s surprised the piece he’d made for Aeternalis still was intact - or someone had found enough pieces to put it back together. He’ll be swept off to speak to someone else after, and remain gone until the bell strikes midnight.

Kialmirn is the one who finds you after the strange invitation lands on your doorstep. Or rather, you’re the first one he contacts once you get yours. When you ask him how he got your contact, he shrugs and tells you he got it out of Reeva, because you’re the one he trusts for information. He’s got his own invitation in hand as well, and asks you if you have one. When you do, he tells you that his invitation arrived to him via courier - while he was out in the middle of the wilds. That, and something about the messenger felt - off. It was humanoid, that much he could tell, but there was a vacant expression to them, as if they were a magical construct. He too does not understand why the missive has come, and tells you he intends to visit Nemal in Khoyesa as well to get more information.

On the day of the premiere, you run into him by the front gate, having his ticket being inspected. You two get through together, and he seems a little unnerved by how realistic everything is. If you tell him that you’re uncomfortable as well, he will stay close, even as he mingles and socialises with the others. You might find him with Nemal and Lyra, both deep in conversation. You are free to join them and stay with them until the midnight bells go off.

Reeva is very much reclusive, but should you want to make an appointment to meet her before the premiere, you are free to do so. Reeva is troubled by the appearance of the invitation, and but keeps mostly to herself. However, if you choose to press her, she admits the wording of the invitation troubles her: last she knew, the wording on this invitation was one of the many drafts that she’d made, but it’d burned together with her many notebooks in the Theatre fire. For it to make a re-appearance is… troubling. On the night of the premiere, Reeva can be found trying to dodge her admirers, eventually seeking shelter in where you know is the library. She will remain there until the bell rings, unmoving - as if in a trance.

Lyla

Tajun will be hanging around the gazebo of the Theatre on the night. He’ll be equally startled to see you there - not unfriendly, but still somewhat guarded. He’ll be civil and courteous, for most part, and very, very clearly not talking about the last (ever?) time you two got together. Or got together, the very least. Should you ask him about the invitation and his past life, he’ll happily tell you about the show he’s been doing lately - and mention something about there being a water feature. He won’t tell you exactly where, nor invite you. Towards the end of the night, you’ll catch him headed towards the backstage area of the Theatre, where you know the old workshops are. However, when you go after him, he will seemingly disappear into thin air.

Kelsahn is the one who finds you after the strange invitation lands on your doorstep. Whether it be him showing up at your doorstep, or you visiting him, you find him contemplating the cream-coloured missive with a thoughtful look on his face. Given your close relationship, when you two discuss the Theatre - and if you want to bring up the Theatre apparently being up and whole, he looks taken aback, but when pressed, he’s not surprised. He admits that Anette sometimes would ask him to incorporate magical elements into the set design for extra “oomph”, and that Aeternalis too was no different. In fact, it was more than what he was used to doing, causing havoc for him. If it led to an illusion being left in its place... that was wholly natural. What he doesn’t understand, however, is why the missive came, as is it were real.

At the night of the premiere, you catch him wandering around, his hand pressed against the walls and looking at the decorations, as if trying to ensure that they’re not an illusion. If you ask him for his observations, he’ll tell you that everything is very much real - and to prove it, he tears off a “leaf” twined around a pillar and passes it to you. It holds in your hand, and doesn’t vanish. He’ll be a little pre-occupied and vanish shortly before Anette’s appearance in the reception.

Andrei is delighted to see you, as he always is in his usual, cheerful manner. You can meet up with him before the premiere, and he’ll chat with you about getting the invitation. He’s wary, but he seems quite enthused at the prospect of seeing everyone again. He might ask you to tag along so he can pick out something fitting for the premiere as well. At the show, he seems perfectly at ease, and will be putting on his best charming face. Towards the end of the night, you’ll catch him away from the ballroom and headed up towards the roof, saying he needs some fresh air.

Morgan

Cyprien will speak with Morgan in one of the smaller, more intimate fundraising luncheons hosted by the Khoyesan Museum near the Borough of the Enlightened, the event taking place midway through the week. He’ll be pleasant, even mildly flirtatious during the event. He has received the invitation, and no matter how much he tries to hide it, you can tell he’s surprised by the arrival of the missive. If you decide to tell him that you’ve visited the Theatre, he’ll be even more concerned by the turn of events, and say something about consulting with the St. Danserd Institute of Magical Research - he has, after all, contacts in that area who might be able to shed some light. If you do pursue this avenue of questioning, however, he turns serious, and the rest of the luncheon will be in this vein, his playfulness gone.

When you meet him at the Theatre, he has his game face on, schmoozing and chatting to those who have gathered. There is no sign of his perturbed nature that he showed during the luncheon earlier, as if he’d taken it all in stride. However, you will catch him casting glances around the ballroom, as if examining the decorations - and otherwise keeping mostly to himself.

Ganz will speak with Morgan, if you decide to contact him after you receive the invitation. He’s glad to speak to you, and has just finished preparing for the newest piece. If asked, he’s surprised Anette’s supposedly alive - and is worried that someone is using the name of the Circus to lead people into some sort of hoax or scam. This, however, will change in the lead-up to the premiere, when he tells you the Theatre is completely restored - much to his surprise. He’ll resolve to try and find Anette to get to the bottom of things. During the premiere, you’ll catch him speaking with Lyra Shillmoor, but will be cordial and friendly should you choose to join them. He is still uneasy about the situation, and will be keeping an eye on the proceedings of the premiere.

Ronan is a surprise, given that his apparent death has been greatly exaggerated. If you speak with him, he seems to talk as though it were the actual night of Aeternalis’s opening, and be confused if you bring up he was dead. You can make small talk with him, but if you press him on his supposed death, you will get nowhere - he speaks as if he had always been there. As the night drags on, he will disappear from the ballroom altogether, and is nowhere in sight.

Last edited by Jadis (13/11/2022 at 14:09)

✦

Form

Name: Lyla Ivanov
FC: Mila Kunis
Age: 26
Role: The Costumer

Other Info

Traits: Meticulous | Firm | Passionate | Reliable | Protective — Guarded | Irritable | Sarcastic | Moody

Personality: Lyla has always been told that she was quite stoic but she sees that as a rather good trait to have, especially when working with stars and artists, all who have their own moods and can be a pain in the ass at times. She’s had quite the characters to deal with and if she were not firm with them, she’d never get her work done. In dealing with said artists, she also has to interact with them in a way that tells her what she needs to know about their requirements for their performances, so she’s rather good at listening to them (and their problems). She doesn’t mind listening and advising, however she herself finds it difficult to open up to people. Her emotions are kept tightly reined, although one does tend to make itself known - her exasperation. She likes children but doesn’t know how to be around them, and is easily shy and flustered when in an unexpected situation.

Biography: During her time in the orphanage, Lyla had always been interested in clothes—more specifically, showmen clothes. She grew up as an orphan, and had been in and out of foster homes until she was finally old enough to get her own life, working enough dull jobs to pay her way through classical art education. Her passion lay in fantastical designs, built to dazzle the audience whilst also being convenient for the wearer. She left her schooling behind when she realised she simply could not conform to their traditional methods.

She had always been interested in the entertainment industry, captivated by the stunning visuals of the performers and the ambiance of the environment. With longing and desire to join something so out of the ordinary, Lyla spent many a late night creating and drafting designs to show the people in charge. It didn’t take long for her skills to shine through and before she knew it, she was working for the Circus of Marvels, a place where she felt she belonged and her passion could flow unbridled. That was of course, until the fire.

Now she works at an ordinary seamstress shop, forever getting chewed out for going a little too beyond the scope of what was requested for their very dull, lifeless attire.

Trivia:
- Loves to dress well
- Late nights are the best time for her to work, the silence is so very peaceful
- Hums when she’s pre-occupied
- Likes children and finds teenagers annoying but hilarious
- Can go off on a ramble when talking about her work and passion

Connections

- Kelsahn (The Set Designer): Lyla likes the man’s creative mind, and she herself finds inspiration in his work, and constantly shifting thoughts. They tended to work closely together, to find the  balance for the costumes and set to be the perfect match. She likes him, finding his chaotic personality to greatly contrast her own closed-off nature. He can get too much for her introverted self, so she would find a window in their conversation to escape back to her own peaceful workroom. She respects him greatly, though sometimes she does have to remind him of what he was last saying. After the fire, they met up a few times to share a meal, and she found comfort in him, serving as a reminder that they were friends that had met in a dazzling environment but are now two creatives stuck in a world of boring routines.

- Tajun (The Acrobat): He had been one of the performances that Lyla had first seen when stepping foot into the world of extraordinary entertainment, and he was one that had bedazzled her the most, though of course, she would rather die than admit this to him. He was top of her list for being the most troublesome performer to work on, not only because of his finicky, picky nature, but because she was pretty sure he liked to be annoying on purpose. Though he exasperated her, he also amusing and she found herself enjoying his company. They became friends, often sharing meals during some of her late night work, and due to their closeness at the time, she had ended up feeling a little more for him than a friend would. Their friendship took a weird turn after the fire, when she got vulnerable and tipsy, and with the help of liquid courage to boost her feelings for him, she uncharacteristically came on to him and they ended up spending one of the best nights of her life together. Of course, she was quick to escape before he woke the next morning and ever since then, she’s been avoiding him, too embarrassed to deal with their awkward situation. She has not contacted him since that night.

- Andrei (The Strongman): Andrei tended to spark Lyla’s protective instinct and, like with Tajun, exasperation. He was easy to talk to, and one of the easiest to style. He could charm the room, and her along with them, with a smile and a few words. Lyla liked that he was straight-forward and would speak his mind if something was bothering him. He was a sweet guy, kind, and always willing to help carry things around, but his gullible nature meant that she would have to take him aside and remind him that just because someone said “I need your expensive gold watch to rebuild my boat to get back home”, it did not mean that he had to give those scammers his heirloom watch. After the fire, they maintained contact with each other, and she sometimes goes to watch his little league games.

- Vivi (The Urchin): Due to Lyla’s often late-nights at her workroom, she had become quite familiar with late-night roaming Vivi and her not-songbird Rara. And working with Kalsahn meant that she would often see Vivi hanging around, and being his chaotic little helper. Lyla was both grateful and mystified for the impish Vivi because she could get her hands on items that Lyla was almost certain no longer existed in normal markets…. Or even the black markets. But oh well. Questioning Vivi got Lyla nowhere so instead, she just gave Vivi snacks that she likes (though Vivi certainly can get them on her own) and forbade Rara from entering her workshop. Talons and her special materials did not mix. Somehow on her bad days, Lyla found herself feeling better whenever Vivi showed up and even though Lyla didn’t always understand her, she appreciated the company. After the fire, Lyla never heard about or from Vivi, and often found herself missing her company when she was stuck doing late-night design re-dos at her new job.

- Isabel (The Accountant):  They were on friendly terms, exchanging polite conversations and brief chats now and then, mostly about materials prices and the like. Outside of work talk, Lyla and Isabel would drink together occasionally, enjoying the silence and peace away from the hustle and bustle of the Circus. After the fire, they would meet once or twice for a drink and last Lyla heard, Isabel had her own firm.

Interests: Tajun, Kelsahn, Andrei
✦

Outfits:

Night of the Premiere


Story:

i - Ghosts of the Past

The flames had not been part of the show.

Whether by magic or otherwise, the pyrotechnic magic had not been planned… or at-least, that hadn’t been how fire was played with at the Circus of Marvels. She could not forget the way the flames tore into the building, into the rafters, licking its way throughout the entire Theatre, all the while the audience cheered and clapped in delight, marvelling at the spectacle. She couldn’t fault them for thinking it was just another show; after all, defying death and escaping seemingly impossible traps was right there on the Circus’s shelf of adrenaline-inducing entertainment. But it had felt all wrong. So why couldn’t they sense it?

If Tajun hadn’t all but scooped her out of there, she might have thought she was just dreaming because it couldn’t be possible — watching her beloved world get burnt down in front of her very eyes… her dreams and everything her life had led her to.

But, perhaps, it really was a dream. A foolish half-faded memory of the past.

Lyla blew out the candle on her desk, not wanting to wistfully stare at the dancing flame any longer; it felt almost like a mockery of sorts. She gathered her things on the desk, glancing at the grandfather clock standing battered yet proud in the corner of the room. If she made it out of the shop in time, she could avoid listening to Lady Crawford’s complaints and nagging about her work —or in Lyla’s case, the lack of.

It was just before 8:30 pm and the boss lady liked to show up around 9 for “check-ups”. Nope, Lyla would make it out of here before then.

She grabbed the shopping list from the shared board, scribbling out a message that she had gone off to do the shopping. She didn’t really want to do shopping for the boutique, but it was the best excuse she could get for not being in the shop by the time Crawford dropped in to nag her ear off. Honestly, she would never have been late or have to pull all-nighters if they had just accepted her designs instead of making her redo them. And to think that they didn’t believe she had great speed in fixing or working up an outfit.

I’d like to see them try and run after performers while trying to fix a stitch without accidentally stabbing the person, or trying to sew on a replacement 5 minutes before a show.

Ah, there she went again, diving into her past.

She flicked the lock as she shut the main door, the soft magical whirring clicking into place. Testing the door, as she did every time she locked up, Lyla nodded briefly to herself, momentarily distracted by what sounded like fire crackers. She could hear children laughing and shrieking in delight and then again, the sound of firecrackers popping loudly.

She turned away abruptly, hastily making her way away from the commotion. She did not need another nose dive into the memory well. If she lingered around long enough in there, she’d end up thinking about… things and… well, people.

Or actually, the people she’d left behind.

His peaceful sleeping face flashed through her mind but she stomped on that memory, because nope, it had been a good five years already. What was she, an enthusiastic memory archivist? Why was her brain always trying to remember things that weren’t necessary anymore?

She sucked in a deep breath as she walked through the town to get to the night market where the Khoyesa residents were milling about, chattering and clamouring through the open stalls. Evenings were always such an active time here, full of bright lights, small magics, and a kind of energy that hummed throughout. Lyla enjoyed walking amongst the lively, bustling crowd for a few reasons; the noise was loud enough to shut off her thoughts and in a weirdly soothing and probably messed up way, she could walk around and no one would notice her or her aimless, direction-less wandering. With families and individuals all walking with a purpose, she could pretend she actually had one in her life too.

Lyla felt like she was slowing down as she gazed at the blur of people passing her by.

Where was she going? What was she supposed to do?

What on earth had her life come to after 5 years? Was there even anything worth —

She startled when her fingers crushed the paper she had been holding— right, the shopping. She had to do shopping. Smoothing out the paper and looking down at the shopping list filled with tools and fabrics they’d needed, Lyla felt terrible.

What was she doing, coming here to mope, again? She had a life, why was she feeling so pathetically sorry for herself?

She could still make clothes and outfits. She could still sketch out her dreams in her notebook. Even if she couldn’t bring them out of the paper, she could still dream, and at least that was something.

Lyla shook her head, trying to clear it, and then headed off to accomplish the one goal she had for tonight. And tomorrow? Well, she could just find another one.

✦

If one ever visited the Borough of the Welcoming, it was almost always a must to visit the Risskov Theatre, or more particularly, the Circus of Marvels. Wonder upon wonder would be revealed to a gasping audience, beautiful voices of beautiful people would elicit a dreamy sigh, claps and shouts of amazement would ring throughout the building. It would be an atmosphere of magic and delight, and it was the kind of ambiance Lyla drank in during her time with them.

But that was no more.

The once grand, proud, marvellous Theatre now stood blackened and ruined, a tragic landmark if you will.

Lyla had to pass by it everyday to get to her place and normally, she would spare the great ruined building a glance or two. But not today. Today, Lyla hated the Risskov Theatre. Petty as it was, she almost felt the urge to egg it and curse it out, even though she knew full well the building would not give a damn about her.

So she just stood in front of the building, holding her shopping and glaring at the stoic, silent thing. It was not the building’s fault, obviously, but she had nothing and no one else to blame. Her hurt and anger had to go somewhere and well, the mighty shadow of the past was the one who had to bear the brunt of her mental rage.

After she had her fill of mentally raging out whilst keeping a very neutral outward appearance, Lyla decided to just go home and give the poor ruins a break. Also, she had been glaring at the building for a little too long and people were starting to notice.

Back at safety of her apartment, Lyla dumped the shopping on the floor, taking off her coat and hanging it on the rack. She grabbed the stack of mail that had come in, lazily flicking through them as she kicked off her shoes before stepping into the living room. She just switched on the light when she stilled, her eyes zoning in on a shockingly familiar insignia on one of the envelopes.

It was the crest of the very building she had just cussed out earlier.

Risskov Theatre.

ii - Not Quite Dead

What the hell was happening?

Risskov Theatre stood there, proud and grand, all but practically sparkling with a cold arrogance. It mocked her, prodded at the barely healed scab over her heart, making her question herself and everything she thought she knew. Lyla stared, unable to believe her own eyes. How was it that she was just there and cussing out the blackened ruins, only to come back and find it all in one piece, like it had never been touched by fire? As though her walking past the ruined building everyday for five years had been a lie. No, what she was seeing in front of her now was definitely a lie.

Of course it was. It had to be.

Blood pounded in her ears, taking over her senses until every other sound disappeared. Her unsteady breathing sounded painfully loud to her as she tried to get a grip on herself.

Was Risskov Theatre really here? But what about the deaths? The missing people? The funerals?

What happened to all of that? What about the fire?

She stepped forward, almost like she was getting pulled by an invisible force, as if in a trance. Why was this happening?

How was this happening?

Yes, magic existed, but for something as unbelievable as this to happen? It didn’t make any sense. Was it her? Did she finally snap and lose it?

Something was way off and as Lyla shakily approached what seemed to be an actual functioning ticket booth, she realized why. Not a single passer-by seemed to be shocked or surprised by the sudden re-appearance of the Theatre. She looked around, almost desperately, in hopes that she wasn’t losing her mind, hoping to find someone as shocked as she was. But no. They walked on about their evening, as though the Theatre had always been there, like it wasn’t a blackened ruined mass less than an hour ago. Oh gods, something was wrong. Something was very very wrong.

She held the opened envelope in her hand and slowly, mechanically, brought it up so she could just check if maybe she was havign a great hallucination—nope, she wasn’t.

The insignia practically jumped out at her and she ran her fingers over it numbly, finding it very hard that this was not a dream. Rather, she should classify this as a nightmare. Staring at the letter, she turned it over and over in her hand. Was this some sick prank?

And if it was —how? How did they get… and that was definitely  Anette Eifageim’s signature, so how…? Lyla read through the letter several times but the contents were as clear as day; an invitation to the opening night of Aeternalis and to be dressed in your best. Except the problem was, that show was one they had been preparing and rehearsing for before the fire.

She very clearly remembered the rehearsals, the outfitting, the running around. What the hell was going on?

Wasn’t Anette supposed to be… dead?

She didn’t know how or when she managed to get to the ticket booth but she found herself standing there, staring at the man behind it, trying to decide if he was real or not.

“Hello, I received… um, this invitation. Is this happening? The show.” Lyla showed the letter to him, fixated on his face to determine the truth. He smiled widely, dipping his head in a short bow of welcome. He was real.

It freaked her out. How was he there? What… was he doing there?

“Yes, the Aeternalis is very much happening, and I assure you, it is an occasion you do not want to miss—”

“How long have you been working here?” Lyla asked, gripping the edge of the counter. Okay, even that felt real. “This wasn’t here an hour ago.”

The man’s smile remained intact but he seemed confused. “I’m sorry?”

“You, this… it wasn’t here. Are you sure the Aeternalis is happening?” She wanted to grab him by the collar and shake him but she was afraid that if she let go of the counter, she’d lose her balance.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” the man asked, his voice taking on a concerned tone. “The show is happening, as advertised on our banners.” He waved towards where there were, indeed, large banners advertising the upcoming show with all the glitz and glamour. Lyla’s blood ran cold at the familiar writings.

“Thanks,” she muttered, pushing herself away from the counter, stumbling backwards to get a good look at the building. The entrance looked exactly as how she’d remembered it, the cafe’s entrance was still there and she knew that if she walked around, there was a gated back entrance for employees.

Her chest tightened. Why was the Theatre back, and on top of that, why was the show coming back? Who was performing the show they had been rehearsing for? And if Anette was really alive… then what about the others that had supposedly perished in the fire?

✦

Gently nudging a little bunny seamstress toy to the side, Lyla placed two cups on the table, one for her and one for Kelsahn Boudec, her friend and coworker from when they worked at the Theatre together. He had showed up on her doorstep the morning right after she received the invitation and as it turned out, it was because he’d gotten one too. Exhaustion made her body feel unnaturally heavy as she took a seat opposite him.

She didn’t get enough sleep.

Kelsahn on the other hand, looked like he didn’t lose much sleep and studied the letters on the table with a thoughtful look on his face, an expression she was all too familiar with. This meant he was actually serious.

“I thought it was a joke when I received it,” Lyla murmured, drumming her fingers lighting against the wooden table-top. “But it wasn’t. The building was there, exactly as it was five years ago.”

Kelsahn’s eyebrows went up. “I hadn’t had the chance to check out the building yet but you’re saying it’s intact?”

“Yep, it even has banners and a functioning ticket booth. There was an actual live person behind the counter.”

“I suppose we should be glad they were alive and not dead,” he mused lightly, taking a sip of his coffee. “You always make the best coffee. Oh, I taste a hint of chocolate?”

“Yeah, choco— wait, why are you not more surprised by this?” Lyla asked, brows furrowing together as she stared at him, realisation suddenly dawning on her. He did appear mildly taken aback that the building stood, but it seemed almost as though he’d expected it to and was… right about it. His eyes held a contemplative light as he gazed at the letters.

Lyla tapped the table to get his attention. “You know something, don’t you?”

“We all know a little something here and there.”

“Sanny, come on, tell me. What is it?”

He took another sip, smacked his lips in appreciation and then flicked his gaze to the letter and then back up to her. “Anette would sometimes ask me to incorporate magical elements into the set design for an extra… “oomph”. Aeternalis was no different from the other shows in that regard…” his paused, brows furrowing. “No, perhaps it was even more.”

“More magic?”

He nodded, fiddling with the cute seamstress bunny toy she’d bought from him a year ago. She watched as he encouraged the toy to hop around, a squeaky voice crying out “stop moving or I’ll poke you!” as the bunny held up a big needle threateningly. It was anything but threatening, seeing how cute it was. Kelsahn had said the bunny was inspired by her and what she used to often say to the fidgety performers, particularly fussy ones like Tajun. She didn’t think she was nearly as cute as the bunny but she’d appreciated the sentiment.

Kelsahn picked up the toy, turning it over in his hand as he fiddled with the little magical charm attached to its back. “It was more magic than I was used to doing, and it caused quite the havoc for me. I wouldn’t be surprised if all of that magic led to an illusion being left in its place.”

It was havoc for even Kelsahn, a man who was practically a walking chaos. Why was so much magic being expended?

“How come?” Lyla took a sip of her drink, watching as he put down the bunny and it hopped around with more energy, like it had been recharged somewhat.

Kelsahn shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s only natural, after all.” He tapped the letter. “What I don’t understand is why this came, as if it was real.”

“It has to be, right?” Lyla said, uncertainly. “I mean, the Risskov Theatre is actually there. Remember, the live person?”

He nodded. “Right, the live human.”

“Was the burnt building an illusion, or is what I saw the illusion?” she wondered, flicking the toy as it came close to her. It hopped around threatening the air with its needle. “We never did step foot inside the ruined building, so it was never confirmed if it was real or not. Or if the fire was real.” She winced at that. “God, the fire. It seemed so real. And the funerals. What about the funerals? Was all of that just an illusion?”

Kelsahn seemed to be distracted, his eyes following the hopping bunny. “Illusion… illusion. Hm, I wonder if the centrepiece I built was part of—” he stopped suddenly, blinking as if surprised he said it out loud. He took a long sip of his coffee, but Lyla leaned forward, interested.

“Centrepiece? What centrepiece?” She hadn’t heard anything about a centrepiece being built specifically for a show.

“Anette… commissioned me to design an extravagant centrepiece for Aeternalis.”

She frowned, leaning back in her seat. “Why is that something of interest?”

“Well, it contained a beautiful, gleaming crystal meant to shine and illuminate the stage —but it must have burnt down with the Theatre.”

“If the Theatre actually burned down,” Lyla muttered.

“If the Theatre actually burned down,” he agreed, quietly.

✦

A week later, with no new answers, more useless fretting, and her anxiety running high with the Aeternalis just around the corner, it was only natural that she sought out someone who’d make her feel better and might maybe share her sentiments on the upcoming show.

As she waited by the fountain, she watched the sky paint the city in shades of orange, eerily reminding her of fire. She could almost imagine the city on fire, flames spreading throughout the open boulevard—

“Lyla!”

Yanked out of reverie, she turned and her face was immediately smushed into a well-built chest as she was engulfed in an affectionate bear hug. She turned her head quickly to try and ensure her oxygen didn’t get totally blocked off. Lyla liked Andrei’s bear hugs, they always made her feel somewhat safe, however he was also a danger to her lungs. Once he decided to let go, she stepped back to get a good look at his smiling face and tilted her head to the side, a little confused.

“Did you not get the envelope?”

“The invitation to Aeternalis?” His smile widened. “I did.”

Alright, so maybe he did not share her sentiments on the whole situation. How were the people around her so calm about this? Granted, they weren’t exactly normal to begin with…

“And you don’t think that’s maybe weird?” Lyla asked as they started on their walk towards their favourite restaurant. With Andrei’s presence, the city didn’t seem like it was engulfed by flames anymore. She could now appreciate the golden hues of magical items glittering under the warm tones of the setting sun.

“Well, I am a bit wary about the whys and hows of all of it, but I am excited to see everyone at the premiere!”

Lyla chuckled, not the least bit surprised at his answer. “Always so positive, Andrei. How did your team do today?”

Her eyes caught sight of a wind chime hanging outside a shop window, matching little gold-metal hummingbirds circling it.

A shrug of his shoulders accompanied his sigh. “Eh, Luke kept throwing a tantrum every time he made a mistake but he was already in a mood even before he got on the field.”

She remembered Luke. She’d seen the freckled boy throwing tantrums on the field before. “I see, what about Isaac? How’s his leg, the poor thing.”

Andrei’s lips twitched into a fond smile. “He came by with his older brother to watch the practice today, so hopefully that will keep his spirits up.”

By the time they got to the restaurant, the sun had just dipped below the horizon. They stepped in the cute little homely place and upon seeing their favourite seat unoccupied, gunned straight for it — the table at the back, against the large window. The last time they were there, a litter of puppies had been playing just outside the window and it was the cutest thing ever. Today, there were no puppies but well, it was still a good spot.

They placed their orders and then Andrei and Lyla launched into conversations about the current news of their lives, what happened on the job, just light topics to catch up and distract from the elephant in the room. It wasn’t long, however, before the conversation eventually led back to it.

“I explained to Jason what he had to do once I stop—”

“You’re leaving the league?” Lyla interrupted, surprised. “I thought you loved it.”

He hesitated for a moment. “I do… but with this invitation… you know, you never know.”

She stared, understanding his train of thought and surprised that she, too, strangely shared the same thought. “Andrei…”

“Don’t you feel the same?”

Hesitant, she played with the rings on her fingers, twisting them around again and again. “I do… but this… all of this is too sketchy. We can’t get back our old life like this.”

Andrei sighed, resting his chin on the palm of his hand, elbow propped up on the table. “I heard some people still live that life, just at a different place now.”

“I suppose it worked out well for them. Isabel is still an accountant, but now she runs her own firm.”

Andrei nodded enthusiastically. “And Tajun is still an acrobat. I saw his last show, it was incredible.”

She stiffened slightly at the mention of his name but tried to play it off, glancing out the window, towards where the lights were flickering on. “Oh right, you did mention you guys still kept contact.”

‘How is he’ almost left her lips and she snapped her mouth shut, swallowing.

Andrei just smiled. “Yeah. We hang out now and then.”

Neither mentioned how Lyla and Tajun hadn’t made contact and she was glad Andrei didn’t ask her. He must have been curious but he didn’t push it, and for that she was grateful.

Guilt flashed through her as she remembered the handsome acrobat, his warm touch, his deep laughter, those twinkling eyes… and his sleeping face as she ran away like a thief in the night. God, she was awful.

Thankfully, their food arrived, distracting her. Andrei took a bite of his food and then seemed to remember something.

“Oh, right. Do you have more time this evening?  Can you want to help me?”

Her brows furrowed. “Help? With what?”

“I need to pick out something fitting for the premiere.  And who else would be perfect for it other than our fairy godmother?”

Right, the premiere. She didn’t having for that evening, either. Even though it was… suspicious, there was no other way to get answers except to actually go there in person.

“Gods, that makes me sound so old.”

“So? What says you?”

“Fine, and that’s only because I need to pick something out too. I don’t have any dresses or enough materials.”

“Perfect.”

iii - Phantoms of the Theatre

On the opening night of Aeternalis, Lyla found herself getting swept in with the crowd, and getting led directly into the auditorium and — what was an awful lot like an exact scene from her memories. Time seemed to have stopped as she wandered about in a daze, drinking in the bright, blazing the lights, the music floating in the air, chandeliers and decorative pieces that were startlingly all too familiar.

It felt like she had stepped into a lucid dream, everyone else seemed to blur around her, dancing couples, laughing theatre-goers with wineglasses clasped in their hands. It was unsettling and bizarre.

What was worse was finding out all the people she’d thought was dead was in fact, very much alive. She watched them mingle and mix with the crowd, as though the last 5 years of them being presumably dead did not happen. A dreadful feeling sunk within her gut as she stared as what felt horribly like phantoms talking and laughing with a live crowd. Were they are illusion too?

What about the 5 years? Was that an illusion of time? Which was real? The past or the present?

The world around her wasn’t making any sense and the only thing she could think of was… somehow, somewhere, someone was pulling the strings on this whole thing. Bringing the dead to life, if they were even dead at all.

It was a nightmare, a sick dream, playing around with her psyche in such a cruel way. This was messing her up and she knew it was only because she was ridiculously fragile and in total denial of everything at the moment. Admist the chaos in her head, Andrei found her, chatting to her with ease and seemingly right at home. She listened to him talk, making no sense of his words, but just being around him pulled her out of the dark space she was falling into, reminding her that even if this was all an illusion, it was still happening. Andrei’s charming face was on, the very best one he had, and he was all smiles and smooth talk, but she heard none of it, still trying to process what she was seeing. She remembered walking around the Theatre with Andrei, remembered him saying something about saying hello to someone… some people?

The next thing she knew, she was staring at a floating chandelier, musing about how that was new — and like water splashing her, all of her senses came on-line. Music and chatter filled her ears, she could feel the cool rush of air brushing against her skin, feel the jewelry and dress she was bedecked in and like she was coming out of a trance, she took in a deep breath. Finally, she calmed down.

Where was she? A quick glance to her side and then up told her she was at the gazebo, and Andrei wasn’t standing next to her anymore.

She took in another shaky breath to steady herself, and unable to help herself, her eyes wandered towards where the back of the Theatre was, where she and the others used to work in. Would anyone notice her if she slipped back there? She just wanted to take a peek and see if… see if it was all still there.

A familiar presence graced her back, and without taking her eyes off the direction of the staff entrance, she turned, reaching out to hold onto Andrei’s arm for support and in bewilderment. Everything was stupidly surreal.

“Andrei, do you think the back entrance is as it was?” she murmured, allowing him to slide her hand from his arm to perch ontop of his hand. “It’s incredible, everything is as though it has always been here. And to think I walked by this ruined place everyday—” she stopped when her fingers brushed against the skin of the hand she was holding, suddenly realizing it felt different. Andrei’s hands were much bigger.

Flicking her gaze downward, she realized her hand was being held politely, the way a prince would hold a lady’s—

Heart hammering in her chest, Lyla almost didn’t dare look up from the tanned skin gently clasping her own, but an urgency she didn’t know existed suddenly flared within her, almost desperate to see the owner of the hand. She swallowed nervously and then tipped her chin up, lifting her eyes to meet—

His gaze was deep, a hint of mirth sparkling within its depths, almost exactly as she remembered. The only difference was the guarded look, something that she had never seen directed at her before.

Her mouth went dry. "T-Tajun."

"Hi." Like the gentleman he was, he brought her hand up to his lips and gave it a feather light kiss.

"Hi." Her voice came out soft, breathy, almost shy. Gods, not now, this was the worst time! She wasn't ready, goodness she didn't think she would ever be ready. She was doing so well thinking he wouldn’t be here… Her skin tingled where his lips had been… and yep, she was sure her face was now red given how hot she suddenly felt. She licked her dry lips, hating to death how awkward she was feeling. “How… have you been, Tajun?”

"I've been well. Great." Was it just her or were his eyes smoldering? "And yourself?"

"I've been, uh," she realised he was still holding her hand so she hastily yanked it away, deciding to clutch her purse with both hands instead, "—good. Yep, I've been good. And you, Tajun? How have you been?"

As soon as she’d asked, she wanted to stuff the words back into her mouth. She asked him the question twice now.

He smiled and she was struck by how ridiculously handsome he was. He stood tall, and well poised, attracting the eye with his confidence and mesmerising looks. It was so unfair that he was more beautiful now than her memory served, and as she had previously established, her brain was an enthusiastic archivist. Her heart throbbed as she gazed up at him.

"Sorry, I already asked that…" she fidgeted with her purse, wanting to ask him more about his life. Would he answer? Was he angry with her? He didn’t seem to be, but well, he was guarded now… but five years was a long time ago, right? She licked her lips nervously and offered him a smile. "So… what have you been doing these past years? Still acrobating?"

Okay, she already knew that from Andrei. Hiding a wince, she fiddled with her clutch. Would he think she didn’t care to ask about him from Andrei, their mutual friend? If he was stung by the question, he didn’t show it, his expression perfectly neutral. Somehow, that bothered her more.

"Yes, I daresay it would be a shame to rob my loving fans of my incredible bo–"

Her eyes rolled before she could control it. "Tajun."

"I was going to say incredibly bold moves," he said with a straight face, his lips twitching ever so slightly. "It's not my fault you jumped to conclusions.”

They both knew he wasn’t going to say that, but she hid a smile, nodding solemnly.

“I’m sorry, please continue.”

“At my last show, there may or may not have been waterworks involved and it was fantastic. The cheering was quite loud and as usual, I received many… gifts.”

She laughed, remembering the times fans had thrown him all kinds of gifts, some which were quite unmentionable.

“I bet you enjoyed getting showered in all that,” she said, shaking her head. “Still the same, hm?”

“Mhm, nothing wrong with getting adored.” His eyes flickered away for a few moments and she followed his gaze, to where Andrei was chatting away with people. A quick glance around and she saw enough people, men and women alike, casting admiring looks towards the man beside her. He was unfazed by it, used to the attention, she supposed. Well, she couldn’t blame them for staring at him like that.

He was dressed to kill and he looked amazing in his suit. The colours complimented his skin wonderfully and his fit was very nearly perfect. Her eyes narrowed at his shoulders. She reached out and pinched the extra fabric together, frowning.

“This should have been trimmed down properly. Why is there so much unnecessary material, gods, you’re lucky it didn’t make you look boxy—”

Her words died on her lips when she realized how close they were. At once, her entire body tightened and her brain decided to dig through the archives of her memory and play through the night she and Tajun had spent together. The night she’d made the first move and he reciprocated, sharing breaths and their bodies. If she got any closer to him, she’d probably spontaneously combust.

A strand of hair fell onto his face and it took everything in her power to not brush it away.

He stared at her with an inscrutable expression, a hint of amusement within that unusually guarded expression, and she snapped her lips shut, stepping back.

“I’m sorry. Force of habit.” She forced out a laugh and surprised herself with how high-pitch it came out. “Sorry about that. And getting in your personal space, not that you aren’t used to it —I mean, no, forget I said that.” Gods, she was rambling, some one save her. “I did Andrei, thats why—”

He blinked.

She blinked, processing her words. As soon as she did, she gasped, mortified. “No! Not that way, I mean, I just outfitted him for today’s event. Not like… okay, you know what, I think I see Kelsahn over there. I-I’m going to go and say hello.” She gave him a weak smile, desperate to get away and hide from him.

“Okay.” His tone was level. “It was good to see you, Lyla. It has been… a while. I’ll see you around.”

She flinched, offered him a smile and then took off, striding towards where Kelsahn was wandering around, near the walls of the Theatre. Gods, how embarrassing. Tajun had been her friend for crying out loud. Why did she have to go and make it so complicated? And weirdly, she felt like crying, but she’d be damned if she did. She was already pathetically weak as it were, she didn’t need to confirm it any more.

Kelsahn was busy looking up at the decorations, his hand pressed against the wall, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. He looked almost like she had felt earlier, like she was trying to make sure everything was real.

“What are you doing, Sanny?” she asked, grabbing onto the opportune distraction. He turned, expression furrowed in thought.

“It’s real.”

“The Theatre?”

“Yes. It’s all very much real, not an illusion.” He plucked a leaf from the vines around a pillar and pressed it into Lyla’s palm. Both of them stared at it for a few moments, waiting for it to disappear. It didn’t.

Lyla’s heart dropped. “If this is real… then what about the 5 years? The ruined building must have been the illusion all along. Sanny? Sanny, where are you going—”

The man was pre-occupied and he just waved her off as he muttered to himself, walking away. Lyla turned her gaze back to the leaf in her hand, rubbing the decorative piece between her fingers. Yep, it was real. Then all those who were dead or missing… they were real, too.

Her eyes slid to the staff entrance. There was someone she’d wondered about for the longest time. She’d thought that person had died in the fire when Risskov burnt down. But maybe…

Commotion rang out throughout the Theatre, calling for everyone to come towards the stage. People moved around her, murmuring excitedly, and she moved with them, slipping the leaf into her clutch.

✦

Anette Eifageim had been absolutely breathtaking in her tailored suit as she welcomed everyone, inviting all the theatre-goers to chat and mingle before the show begins. And then she vanished, like an illusion, eliciting claps and cheers from everyone. Lyla clapped mechanically, staring at the spot Anette had just occupied.

Lyla felt like she was really starting to hate illusionist tricks. She lifted up her dress slightly to give her more freedom to move. If the show was supposed to start soon, that meant reception wouldn’t last more than fifteen minutes. That would be more than enough time to —

She had been glancing over her shoulder, a mistake to make in a place so crowded. She teetered on her heels but was pulled back to balance with the help of a strong grip on her wrist.

“Sorry—” she blinked up at Tajun who sighed dramatically, a ghost of his old self making an appearance.

“I don’t need to hear apologies for you falli—” he stopped suddenly, seeming to think better of it and then just cleared his throat.

His hand was warm on her skin and perhaps that’s what made her soften up. Her heart clenched as she stared at him, so many things she wanted to tell him, locked away behind her pride and fear. There was so much to apologize for, and she had no idea how she would ever go about it.

“What?” she murmured, knowing he cut off his sentence in the middle of a dumb joke.

“You’ve, ah, you’ve apologized enough for tonight,” Tajun murmured dryly.

“I don’t think I have.” The words blurted out of her before she could decide what to do with them. The words were weighty and it filled the air between them, heavy and nearly tangible. It was right there, on the tip of her tongue.

Sorry I moved  apartments without giving you the address like I’d promised.

Sorry I left before you woke up.

Sorry I ran away.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out so she just stared at him, helpless. He let go of her wrist and gave her a smile, one that seemed rather forced.

“So, Anette, huh? Who would have guessed she’d bring us all together like this.”

“Tajun, I—”

“What have you been doing all this time?” he asked, fixing her with a look that clearly said he was not going to touch upon any other topic of their past, or well, their last encounter together. It made sense he wouldn’t want to go there. She was the one who’d made assumptions about him and
she’d been so afraid of getting rejected by him, or being made into just another one of many of his flings, that she’d run away from him and well, moved away without telling him. Gods, she was a bitch and a coward for that.

So she dropped it and managed a half smile.

"Um, I'm a seamstress."

Tajun looked down at her with a smile. "You were always good at that, the team's glamorous fairy godmother. You've always been so put together, so you must be doing rather well for yourself."

Her chest tightened. She wasn't doing something glamorous at all. In fact, her life had spiralled so much she no longer had a goal or direction, and now she was even more confused and out of touch with reality. And standing in front of him, Lyla suddenly felt so frustrated.

"I…" she turned her gaze away. "Yeah."

And all the glitz and glamour surrounding her? Yep, that definitely did not help.

✦

Glancing at the large clock reading almost close to midnight, Lyla cursed under her breath. That horrible sinking feeling that something was wrong had returned in full force. The reception had dragged on well past the 15 minutes she had allotted it, and she’d spent most of that time in an awkward, semi-tense conversation with Tajun who she was beginning to suspect hated her guts. Well, she hated her guts too, so no fault there for him. But even then, although she knew she shouldn’t have accused him… it was just that she could have still ended up being a meaningless experience to him whereas he was special to her. It was a matter of protecting herself.

From Tajun? Really? You could’ve just asked him and then dealt with it. It’s not like you guys established anything.

Wow, her mental state was really — Lyla stopped as she caught sight of a familiar suit back heading towards the same place she had initially been gunning for; the backstage area where all the old workshops were. Curious, she followed quietly after him, slipping into the back area and seeing— nothing.

The place looked exactly like it had been but that was no longer a source of her interest. Lyla blinked, looking around her for the familiar figure but he was gone, seeming to have disappeared into thin air. She pursed her lips. Yeah, Tajun moved quite nimbly so it was no surprise he’d be gone before she even caught up to him —

She paused, tilting her head to the side. What was that? It sounded like murmuring.

Tip-toeing, she followed the sound further into the back area of the Theatre, getting closer and closer to the roof until she could just about make out the words and who was saying them. Her eyebrows went up when she recognized Andrei’s voice. She was too far away to make out the exact sentences, but he seemed to be chatting to someone in the rafters, seemingly trying to… convince them to come down from… wherever they were. And he seemed to be semi-exasperated by them. Who could make Andrei get so —

Vivi?

Only Vivi could make anyone exasperated, it was like her super power. Was it Vivi?

Curiosity got the better of her and she turned the corner, only to find Andrei standing there alone, staring up at the rafters, the rustle of bird wings the only other sound to accompany him. He seemed mildly surprised to see her.

“What are you doing here, Lyla?”

“I was curious about the old workshops,” she said honestly, looking around but not seeing anything. “I heard your voice.”

“Yeah, I wanted to get some air at the rooftop.”

“Oh, okay. Did you get your air?”

“Yeah, now let’s get back to the ballroom. We don’t want to miss the show.”

“I don’t think the show’s happening,” she told him as he offered her his arm for support. She gladly took it. “The reception has gone on for way too long at this point. People are getting angsty now.”

Back at the ballroom, Lyla kept an eye out, searching for Kelsahn and Tajun, but she couldn’t find them in the crowd. Vivi was not one for events like this so if she were alive and well, she wouldn’t have shown face. She was about to ask Andrei a question about the roof earlier when the sound of a bell tolls through the air, fair and distant. A strange electric hum fills the air, causing goosebumps to break out across her skin.

Alarmed, she took a step back. “What—”

Lyla blinked, staring up at… her ceiling?

What the hell? And was she laying down? Bolting upright, she realized she was back in her own home, on her bed and still in her dress and jewelry. She lurched out of bed, forgetting she was in heels and stumbled down, colliding rather painfully with the ground. She had just enough clarity to kick off her heels, and jump back to her feet, running to the window just to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating— yeah, nope. She was definitely at home.

And the clock on her tabletop was telling her it was ten in the evening…. When it should really be midnight.

“What the…”

She whirled around, making her way to the mirror to make sure she hadn’t just been imagining all of that — nope. Her reflection stared back, wide-eyed and crazed, bedecked her newest dress and jewellery and full makeup. She scanned her appearance, nothing had changed at al—

Wait, what was that? A glimpse of something on her wrist that had most definitely not been there before.

Yanking back her sleeve, she stared down at what was a faint flower-shaped mark on her wrist, a foreign substance on her skin.

Her breathing came out in shocked puffs of air, brows furrowed together as sweat broke out across her forehead.

Just… what the hell was happening?

✦

Round Status:

Round 1: Done

Last edited by MistyMisty (17/11/2022 at 20:30)

Let me introduce myself...

Name: Morgan Elise Cromwell

Face claim: Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey

Age: 36

Role: The Patron

Traits: Ambitious. Charismatic. Flirty. Independent. Intelligent / Arrogant. Blunt. Impulsive. Stubborn. Vain. 

Personality:
Despite seeming like Morgan has achieved it all - wealth and fame among other things - she will always strive for more... knowing exactly what she wants in life and isn't afraid of using unethical methods to reach her goals. Never been afraid to speak her mind or to point out mistakes by others, it has been too long since she last truly cared if her words might hurt others or if she offended someone. Definitely, an ‘act now and think later person’ which has gotten her into trouble a few times... but nothing that couldn't have been fixed with a charming smile or a compliment... Morgan often jokes that they are her best weapon. The woman likes to be in control over everything, likes having the last word in every argument, and admits that she did something wrong never happens... and she doesn't take too kindly to others pointing out what she did wrong. Morgan loves to socialize, connect with other people, flirt and has one-night stands and brief relationships, but it doesn't seem like she is interested in more. She likes to be the center of attention and yet also knows when to take a step back and let others enjoy the spotlight for a few moments.

Biography

The only child of Adrian Burke, a fruitless and luckless artist, and Iris Aurelia Cromwell, runaway heiress of the Cromwell Media Empire. It seemed that Morgan was destined for a normal life with loving parents spending her days in a small cottage with a garden full of flowers and laughter echoing through the house. But life took a drastic turn when Adrian and Iris died in a car accident when the girl was barely four years old. Too young to understand what was happening and not given any time to cope with the new situation, Morgan was sent into the custody of her maternal grandmother Flavia.

The older woman might have been a loving and warm person once… but that was before the death of her husband 15 years ago… and before losing her only daughter. Flavia had never quite liked Adrian and in secret, she was blaming him for Iris’ death… work, hosting various parties, throwing money out of the window, and unfortunately, alcohol seemed to be her only joy these days. Morgan was promptly put into the care of various nannies and maids after her arrival and hardly got to see her grandmother during the first few months.

It didn’t get better as she grew older and expensive gifts seemed to be the only sign of affection Flavia was capable of showing towards her granddaughter… though both of them knew that they were nothing but a simple excuse to make up for the lack of time… and the interest in Morgan’s well-being. It didn’t take her long to start using the gifts to her advantage demanding them to be more expensive instead of admitting that she would have preferred to spend time with her grandmother… to find out if there wasn’t anything they did have in common.

If Morgan wasn’t the one who was constantly pushing herself… trying to be on top of her classes and trying to prove that she was more than just another rich heiress, it was Flavia who voiced her demands and her constant reminders that Morgan was a Cromwell and the one person who would take over the family business one day… and all the wealth that came with it. Morgan was still in the middle of her studies when Flavia passed away… years of stress and her drinking problems had finally caught up with her. Overnight Morgan not only found herself as the head of the family business but also as the last living Cromwell… it wasn’t long before she realized that Flavia had been living beyond her means and the family fortune had been gone for years.

Thrown into a new situation, Morgan had no choice but to sell the Media company and some of the few mansions that she still called her own and then start over new… using some connections she had made during her time at university, her wits and her charms she started investing into various small companies while collecting and selling rare arts. It was a tedious process with some setbacks, but she never gave up… along the way she started sponsoring various artists and performers. Over the years Morgan grew into her new role… she plays it with pride, and always has the will to give her best, and to prove to others of her capabilities.

Connections

Anette Eifagem: Morgan made her acquaintance after she visited the Circus for the first time… it seems almost like a lifetime ago at this point. She had been instantly impressed by Anette’s passion and her ongoing hard work to make the Circus even better… Morgan always appreciated people who kept striving for more. Their talks never ventured too deep into any personal matters as Anette was concerned with her Circus and Morgan was primarily interested in the well-being of the performer… and that she hadn’t made any mistake by putting her trust and her money into them. The destruction of the Circus and that Anette had been claimed as a victim of the flames had hit Morgan quite hard. 

Cyprien Ledrau: When Morgan met him for the first time, she only had heard other people speaking about him and all the achievements he had reached in his life… their talk had been brief and she had been far from the successful self-made billionaire she is now. They had only exchanged a few pleasantries but she hadn’t forgotten his charming nature when Morgan saw Cyprien for the second time at the Circus one night. She didn’t know if he still remembered her – not that it truly mattered – and it was good to reconnect with him and exchange some flirty and charming smiles. After the tragedy, Morgan ran into Cyprien a few times at events or galas… neither of them mentioned the fire once though.

Venezia Hayward: Almost everyone had heard about the famous singer at about one point and Morgan was no exception but it wasn’t until she started visiting the Circus that she finally got her chance to see Venezia perform… it is without a doubt an evening that Morgan isn’t going to forget anytime soon. Their interactions had been brief since she wasn’t the only one who wanted to be in Venezia’s company if only for a few seconds. It had been quite the disaster that Venezia apparently perished in the flames too.

Ganz Coldwell: Morgan met him the same night as Anette… the tunes his orchestra had been playing still echoed through her mind and a charming smile on her lips as she told him that she had never heard such a lovely tune before. The fact that he was the complete opposite of Anette wasn’t too hard to notice but he had the same protectiveness and love for the Circus shining in his eyes as Morgan spoke with him. It quickly became a habit to seek him out after watching the Circus performance and to compliment his newest musical creation. Even after the Circus burned down she had stopped by to see Ganz and his new orchestra play… catching up with him if the moment allowed it.

Moren Lockwood: Before she started sponsoring one of the Circus’ performers, Morgan never indulged herself with critics… that was before she met Moren Lockwood and before she realized how powerful his written words could be. Though it seemed that she had worried for nothing… his words while not always the nicest, Moren was never too harsh in his judgment… and neither was he when she talked with him now and then. The last time Morgan spoke with him was a few months after the Circus burned down and while she never told him, she believes that his final words were the best she had ever read.

Trivia:
• Over the years Morgan has acquired quite the art collection including all the paintings done by her father… she wouldn’t sell them for all the money in the world

• If Morgan isn’t attendings parties or galas she likes to spend her evenings with a glass of red wine, a box of dark chocolate, and a good book

• She would love to travel and see more of what the world had to offer but a tight schedule and her many ongoing businesses are holding her back

• She has mastered the art of fake smiling after spending too much company with people who would either bore her to death or just didn’t know when to stop talking

• Morgan has a few principles in life such as Don’t get drunk/embarrass yourself in front of important people, If it is truly important, do it now and not later and Try not to mix business with pleasure.… the last one already got broken by her a few times.

Interests: Cyprien, Ganz & Venezia

Act I

I. Unexpected News

Morgan let out an annoyed sigh before she dropped the paper back on the table and rubbed her temples… she would never understand why some potential business partners had the unnecessary need to make things more complicated for themselves. It was supposed to be a simple deal… one with enough profits for both sides but that was before the other company started making demand after demand.

“And this was supposed to be a relaxing Friday…” She muttered under her breath as she pushed herself out of the chair before she walked over to the window with a beautiful view of Khoyesa.

The burning remains of Risskov Theatre weren’t too hard to spot as they lay almost right in front of Morgan and another sigh slipped past her lips. 5 years had passed since that faithful night… 5 years since a horrible fire had destroyed the Theatre and claimed the lives of a few that had been involved with the Circus.

She had been there this night… sitting in her usual box with a smile on her lips watching closely as the show was about to get started. The fire had been an element at previous performances which was why it had taken Morgan too long to realize that something was amiss… that this was real and not some kind of trick or magic. While she has been lucky to escape, others didn’t and the Theatre burned down into ashes and rubble… despite all those years that had passed, the ruin still remained.

Morgan had mourned but ultimately, she had moved on, and eventually, she had found other performers and artists worth sponsoring. On some days the Risskov Theatre felt nothing like a distant memory… almost as if it had happened in a completely different lifetime. But on other days, she could feel her mind slipping back to the old times… thinking of all the performances she had watched, getting better, bigger, and more extravagant with each time… thinking of all the people she had met. She and Anette hadn’t been particularly close, yet it had hurt to know that she had been one of the victims claimed by the fire.

Morgan shook her head before she turned away from the window walking back to the desk. She couldn’t allow herself to get distracted… not when there was still one contract to read and potentially to correct as well. She had just reached the next page when a knock on the door pulled her once again out of her concentration.

Mildred, her trusty assistant, stood in the doorway with a folder pressed against her chest. “A letter just arrived for you, Miss Cromwell.”

“A letter? From whom?” Morgan asked looking at her with one of her eyebrows arched up.

“There is no sender… just a wax seal.” Mildred stepped further into the room.

“Probably another invitation. Put it on my table, I will take a look at it later.” She said while picking up her pencil to mark yet another paragraph that she wasn’t willing to agree with, “Was there anything Mildred?”

“Yes,” her assistant replied, licking her lips with a nervous expression, “Mr. Haywood had another draft of the contract sent over just a few moments ago… according to the note, his lawyer took a look at it again and made a few changes.”

Morgan dropped the pen with an annoyed sigh before she crumbled the paper together throwing it into the basket under her table, “Of course, he did!” she said through clenched teeth before holding out her hand.

She flipped quickly through the new contract… immediately spotting more ridiculous paragraphs and demands before she closed the folder with another sigh, “Mildred, please bring this to Mr. Kingston and tell him to find a way to stop this business deal… lucrative or not but I’m not in the mood to deal with someone who can’t make up his mind.”

“Right away, Miss Cromwell.” Mildred pressed the folder back against her chest.

Morgan grabbed the mysterious envelope stuffing it into her handbag before she grabbed the coat from the back of her chair, “If there is nothing to be done, you can go home as well, Mildred.”

Her assistant blinked a few times in confusion not that Morgan could blame her… usually, she wasn’t someone to leave the office this early but it was better than going crazy over one contract… there were plenty of other potential business partners to be found at Khoyesa. Luckily, the days when she needed to use fake compliments and pretend that she was enjoying herself were long over. 

“Have a nice weekend Miss Cromwell,” Mildred called after Morgan with a soft smile playing on her lips.


The door fell shut with a click and the sound of heels against the marble floor echoed through the entrance hall… after the whole fiasco with the contract and the apparent loss of a potential business partner, Morgan had used the time to relax and let her mind drift away as she had sat in one of the many cafes that could be found around Khoyesa. A sigh slipped past her lips as she slipped out of her coat throwing it carelessly over a nearby chair before she ventured further into the living room… the sight of Khoyesa at night was visible through the large windows.

Her gaze moved around until she spotted the burned remains of the Risskove Theatre illumined by the lights of the surrounding buildings. There was something weirdly fascinating and almost beautiful at this sight. Morgan shook her head before tearing her gaze away… one reminder of that faithful night had been enough for one day.

She brought a glass filled with red wine to her lips when she realized that she still hadn’t taken a look at the strange letter… setting the glass on the counter she pulled the crème-colored out of her handbag. Her name was written on top in fancy handwriting and her breath hitched as she spotted the familiar wax seal on the back of the envelope.

“Risskov Theatre…” Morgan whispered under her breath as she ripped the envelope open. Inside was only a single player… the formal invitation to the Premiere of Aeternalis. The same performance which should have been played that faithful night 5 years ago. She shook her head again as her eyes skimmed over the invitation again… it had been signed by Anette… the ringmaster of the Circus and one of the victims claimed by the fire.

Morgan dropped the invitation on the kitchen counter before she walked over to the window again… easily finding the burned-down Threatre.

“It has to be a joke..” she muttered under her breath before she took another sip from the wine, “Anette is dead… and so is Risskov Theatre.”

Kicking off her heels she sat down on the couch stretching her legs and closing her eyes for a moment… it would have been easy to just fall asleep here and there – wouldn’t be the first time – but her mind refused to forget about the strange invitation.

With a frustrated sigh from her lips, she reached for today’s newspaper flipping through the pages until she finally found the weekly concert program… there was one person who might know about the invitation… one who could ease her worries and reassure her that it was nothing but foul play.

Luck seemed to be on her side as Ganz and his new orchestra were scheduled to play in Khoyesa this weekend… he was one of the few people she had kept in contact with over the years but the topic of the Circus remained unspoken between them… at least, it had until now. Tomorrow Morgan would give him a call and arrange a meeting... and hopefully, the weird invitation could be forgotten about.


******

The door fell shut with a click and the sound of heels against the marble floor echoed through the entrance hall… after the whole fiasco with the contract and the apparent loss of a potential business partner, Morgan had used the time to relax and let her mind drift away as she had sat in one of the many cafes that could be found around Khoyesa. A sight slipped past of her lips as she slipped out of her coat throwing it carelessly over a nearby chair before she ventured further into the living room… the sight of Khoyesa at night was visible through the large windows.

Her gaze moved around until she spotted the burned remains of the Risskove Theatre illumined by the lights of the surrounding buildings. There was something weirdly fascinating and almost beautiful at this sight. Morgan shook her head before tearing her gaze away… one reminder of that faithful night had been enough for one day.

She brought a glass filled with red wine to her lips when she realized that she still hadn’t taken a look at the strange letter… setting the glass on the counter she pulled the crème-colored out of her handbag. Her name was written on top in fancy handwriting and her breath hitched as she spotted the familiar wax seal on the back of the envelope.

“Risskov Theatre…” Morgan whispered under her breath as she ripped the envelope open. Inside was only a single player… the formal invitation to the Premiere of Aeternalis. The same performance which should have been played that faithful night 5 years ago. She shook her head again as her eyes skimmed over the invitation again… it had been signed by Anette… the ringmaster of the Circus and one of the victims claimed by the fire.

Morgan dropped the invitation on the kitchen counter before she walked over to the window again… easily finding the burned-down Threatre.

“It has to be a joke..” she muttered under her breath before she took another sip from the wine, “Anette is dead… and so is Risskov Theatre.”

Kicking off her heels she sat down on the couch stretching her legs and closing her eyes for a moment… it would have been easy to just fall asleep here and there – wouldn’t be the first time – but her mind refused to forget about the strange invitation.

With a frustrated sigh from her lips, she reached for today’s newspaper flipping through the pages until she finally found the weekly concert program… there was one person who might know about the invitation… one who could ease her worries and reassure her that it was nothing but foul play.

Luck seemed to be on her side as Ganz and his new orchestra were scheduled to play in Khoyesa this weekend… he was one of the few people she had kept in contact with over the years but the topic of the Circus remained unspoken between them… at least, it had until now. Tomorrow Morgan would give him a call and arrange a meeting... and hopefully, the weird invitation could be forgotten about.
“Morgan, it is good to see you.” Ganz greeted the brown-haired woman with a warm smile playing on his lips as he pointed at the chair across from him.

“Likewise,” Morgan replied smiling as well before she sat down, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” She added looking at the slight chaos on his desk… various papers and pens were scattered everywhere.

“Oh that,” he scratched the back of his head, “The last night was a bit longer than I had expected… I have just finished preparing for the newest piece.” He picked up a stack of papers placing them on top of a cupboard in the back of his office. “I tend to forget about my surroundings when I’m in the middle of something.”

“Mhm, the same might have happened to me once or twice before.” Morgan chuckled briefly, “Do you perhaps already know when your newest piece will be played for the first time?” she crossed her legs.

“I’m afraid that it might take a while.” Ganz shook his head, “I have yet to present it to the Orchestra and then we will see how it goes with rehearsals… could be in the next weeks or in the next months.”

“Well, I will be most certainly coming to see you and your orchestra play… even if I’m not always known for my patience. But I will just see it as an exercise.” She chuckled again while tucking a strand of her hair back.

“Thank you, Morgan.” Ganz leaned his elbows on the table as he looked at her with a smile, “So, you have been pretty vague on the telephone about the nature of your visit… did something happen.”

“You can definitely say that…” Her lips were pressed together in a thin line as she reached down to pull the envelope out of her handbag, “This was sent to me yesterday and I was hoping that you might know more about it.”

Ganz’s eyebrows were knitted together as he plucked the envelope from her fingers, “Risskov Theatre? How is that possible?” he pulled out the invitation reading over the words, “Do you have any idea who might have sent it to you?”

“I was just as surprised as you are. Unfortunately, I don’t.” Morgan licked over her lips, “I thought Anette was dead.”

“So did I… we all did.” A sigh slipped past Ganz’s lips as he handed the invitation back to her, “But if she is indeed alive, why did she never try to reach out to one of us?”

“I was wondering the same.” Morgan admitted as her gaze moved over the invitation again, “From your reaction, I guess that you didn’t get one.”

“So far not but even if I did...” He stopped midsentence dragging a hand through his hair, “I don’t know if I want to believe that it is true… I’m worried that someone is using the name of the Circus to lead people into some sort of hoax or scam.”

"I had the same thought after I received the invitation and after seeing the Theatre... I find it hard to believe that it might be true." Morgan licked over her lips.

"You have been to the Theatre?"

"I can see it every day by just looking out of my window." She replied leaning slightly forward, "It is still nothing but a burned-down ruin."

"You know there is an easy way to find out if it is true and who might be behind the whole deal." Ganz said with a small smile playing on his lips while he pointed at the invitation laying between them, "We will go there."

"Mhm, good idea but I don't recall that you have gotten an invitation yet." She chuckled playfully.

"There is still time and shouldn't I get one... I'm sure that I will find another way inside. I just need to speak with the right people." He pointed out casually.

"Oh, I'm sure you will be invited... after all what would be the long-awaited premiere of Aeternalis without its concertmaster," Morgan added with a wink and a charming smile.

II. Business & Pleasure

Morgan swirled the champagne glass between her fingers while her gaze moved around the room... usually she enjoyed those small fundraising luncheons as they helped her to relax and to make new connections. But ever since she had received the invitation she constantly found her mind drifting to the Risskov Theatre and the upcoming premiere of Aeternalis... if it wasn't a hoax after all.

"Morgan, what a lovely surprise to see you here."

The brown-haired woman turned her head to the left spotting Cyprien dressed in a perfectly tailored suit with a glass of champagne in his hand and a charming smile playing on his lips.

"You act like we haven't seen each other just two weeks ago at the Museum Gala." Morgan said in a playful tone as she lifted her glass to greet him, "Or have you already forgotten about that?"

"As if I could forget about meeting you." Cyprien's tone easily switched into a more flirty one.

"You could try but I'm not sure if you would succeed." she replied with her red-painted lip curled up into a charming smile, "How have you been?"

"Sounds almost like a challenge." Cyprien's smile got a bit wider, "I have been splendid, and you?"

"I have been good... maybe a bit more stressful than I liked it to be but you know how it is. Business can be quite unpredictable." Morgan chuckled.

"It can but honestly, where would be the fun if it was the same all the time?" Cyprien asked before leaning slightly closer in her direction, "I have received an interesting letter this week."

"Oh, did you? Perhaps it was the invitation to a certain theatre premiere."

"Mhm, clever and beautiful." Cyprien's lips curled into a smug smile while he kept looking at her.

"Oh, you have no idea." She replied with a playful chuckle, "Not to mention important enough to receive my own invitation... though I have to admit that I still don't know what to expect." She took a sip from her champagne, "And it seems that I'm not the only one."

"Well, I can hardly be blamed in this case. I was quite surprised to receive an invitation for a premiere 5 years after its original date... 5 years after people had died."

"Or supposedly died." Morgan pointed out, "After all the invitation is signed with Anette's name... I wonder how she did that if she is dead."

"If it was indeed her who signed the invitation."

"Of course... there is something else which might make a premiere quite difficult." She added, "The Theatre is still a burned-down ruin. You would think that whoever is planning the premiere would have the Theatre fixed... unless it is just one big hoax, in this, it doesn't really matter."

"You have been to the theatre lately?" Cyprien asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

"Actually, I can see it every time I look out of the window but yes but I decided to walk past it the other day... you know to get a closer look and see if something was amiss. But nothing has changed and the once glorious building is still nothing but a burned-down ruin." Morgan explained with her lips pulled down into a frown, "If it's just a hoax... I fear it might not be a good one."

"Mhm, that is indeed strange." Cyprien mused with his lips pressed together, "I have been consulting with the St. Danserd Institute of Magical Research."

Morgan blinked a few times in confusion upon hearing his words... she was no stranger to magic and she knew that the Risskov Theatre had used it a few times during their performances. But could magic really be the answer to what happened and how people who everyone believed to be dead might have appeared back out of nowhere?

"And what do you think will they tell you?"

"I'm hoping that they might be able to shed some light," Cyprien explained but didn't further elaborate on what kind of answers he was expecting... what mystery he was hoping to solve.

"Mhm, I see." She pressed her lips together, "So, I assume that means you will be attending the premiere."

"Of course," a smile easily appeared on his lips again, "What is the worst that can happen? Either we get to see the long-awaited premiere of Aeternalis and find out that those we believed to be dead are very much alive. Or we all lose a few hours to discover it was just a hoax."

"I would mostly prefer the first option but I will allow myself a bit of skepticism... the fact that the building is nothing but ruins and rubble is hard to ignore." Morgan pointed out, "Though I suppose in just a few days we will find out the truth behind the invitation."

III. Long awaited Premiere

Morgan still didn't quite know what to expect from tonight... as she had been getting ready the thought of staying at home has crossed her mind more than once. But Flavia Cromwell hadn't raised a quitter and even if the invitation should turn out to be nothing but a hoax, Morgan was prepared... there was a lovely Opera playing tonight.

But now as she was standing in front of Risskov Theatre... seeing it back in its old glory, she realized that her plans for the night just had changed. The building looked nothing like the burned-down ruin from the past 5 years.

"How is that possible?" she muttered under her breath while her gaze moved around... noticing that the people walking around seemed to be completely unfazed by the rebuild Risskov Theatre.

"You are seeing it too right?"

Morgan startled and spun around with one of her hands pressed against her chest... it was Ganz dressed in a dark blue suit.

"Ganz, don't scare me like this. But yeah, I'm seeing it too but I don't understand how... only a few days ago this was still a ruin." Morgan's eyebrows were knitted together as she kept looking at the Risskov Theatre.

"Maybe we will never know." Ganz replied with a shrug before offering his arm to her, "Shall we?"

"Gladly." She accepted his arm with a charming smile on her lips.

Morgan tried to ignore the knot in the pit of her stomach... the dreadful feeling that was threatening to take over her mind as she and Ganz ventured further into the theatre. Her heart almost stopped when she spotted Anette dressed in her usual ringmaster outfit and with a smile on her lips.

"Is that?" Morgan whispered under her breath, "How is that possible?"

"I have no idea. I thought her to be dead... we all did but maybe we have been wrong the whole time." Ganz slipped his arm out of hers, "Sorry but I have to speak with Anette... I need to find out what is going on."

"Of course." Morgan nodded.

It wasn't long before Morgan realized that Annette wasn't the only one who had supposedly returned from the dead. As the premiere stretched on she spotted more than one familiar face among the crowd but she was nine the wiser how this could be possible. The fire had been too real... and so had been the screams and destruction 5 years ago.

Maybe I'm dreaming. Morgan thought to herself as she grabbed a glass of champagne.

She wandered around aimlessly through the ballroom... the knot in her stomach still hadn't disappeared and neither had the feeling that something was amiss tonight. Everything seemed too surreal... almost good to be true and part of her was just waiting to discover that it had been nothing but a dream.

For a few moments, Morgan tried to distract herself with what she did best... socializing and building connections.

"Isn't it amazing?" Mrs. Rochester said with a beaming smile. "5 years have been most certainly worth the wait."

"I suppose it is but you have to admit that it is strange to see all of them here tonight... considering what happened 5 years ago." Morgan mused with her lips pressed together.

"Maybe it is all part of the whole mystery. After all, the Risskov Theatre always had a preference for drama... though I suppose that 5 years is a bit of a long time."

Part of Morgan wanted to laugh and grab the other woman to shake her... dramatic flair or not but she refused to believe that it had been all fake... that Anette and the others had been indeed alive all the time.

"Oh, there is the star of tonight." Mrs. Rochester's loud voice made Morgan snap back out of her thoughts.

The glass nearly slipped out of her hand when all of a sudden she found herself face to face with Venezia looking gorgeous as ever in a dream of dark red fabric with gold glitter and sequins... she didn't look a day older than the last time Morgan had seen her.

"Ms. Cromwell, it is good to see you again. Almost feels like ages since we have last spoken with each other." The black-haired woman said with a charming smile playing on her lips, "And are you excited for tonight? Ready to finally see the wonder that is Aeternalis?"

You are not that wrong... 5 years is a long time after all.

"Indeed it has been quite some time." The lie easily slipped past Morgan's lips, "Oh, you have no idea... Anette wouldn't spill anything about the show whenever I tried to ask." She chuckled. "How are you feeling? I'm almost tempted to ask if you are nervous, Venezia."

"I'm feeling absolutely fantastic. Tonight will be the most glamorous show you will ever witness." Venezia's smile got wider, "Though I have to say some people are acting a bit weird."

"Weird? What do you mean?" Morgan asked despite already having a slight feeling about what she was talking about.

"One person asked me how I'm still alive. How could I be here tonight since the Risskov Theatre supposedly burned down 5 years ago." The black-haired woman shook her head, "I can confidently say that the rumors about my death are greatly exaggerated." She laughed out loud. "Can you believe the audacity of some people? Spreading stupid rumors to make me look bad..."

If you only knew how wrong you are, Venezia... I was there 5 years ago. I saw what happened that night and part of me still believes that it was just a dream.

*Unfortunately, people will do everything to steal the spotlight from others, even if only to have it for a few seconds." Morgan replied.

"Well, they can certainly try but they should know that I'm not going down without a fight."

"Oh, I don't doubt that one second." The brown-haired woman smiled.

Eventually, she and Venezia parted ways as Morgan wasn't the only one who wanted the company of one of the Circus's biggest stars. And as the night progressed, she found it easier to let herself enjoy the premiere... if it was a dream, it was one of the best she ever had.

Lips curled into a smile while her gaze moved around the ballroom until she spotted Cyprien being in his usual element.

"Enjoying yourself?" She asked after walking over to him.

"Very much and you?"

"Mhm, I'm slowly getting there. Part of me is still a bit skeptical since it looks too good to be true. But the Risskov Theatre had always been different." Morgan replied with her lips curled up into a smile.

"I almost find it more magnificent than the last time I had been here. Anette certainly had outdone herself." He flashed her a bright smile.

Whatever doubts or questions had been on his mind the last time they had spoken with each other, seemed to have disappeared tonight... replaced by a good mood.

"She did. I have tried to speak with her a few times but she keeps slipping away from me." Morgan chuckled, "Another thing that hasn't changed over the years."

For a brief moment, Cyprien's gaze drifted away from her over to the decoration around the ballroom... almost as if he was looking for something... or expecting something to happen.

"I'm sure there will be plenty of time to speak with her later. You know how Anette can be when she is in her element." He pointed out casually, "And she worked long for tonight."

She did... let's hope that it won't end the same way it did the first time.

"And you can't deny that you are at least a bit curious, Morgan," Cyprien added with a playful smile.

"Mhm, I could try but where would be the fun in that?" She asked with a chuckle, "Aeternalis was supposed to be the next big step for the Risskov Theatre. I would be a fool not to be excited... even if the circumstances could be better."

With a new glass of champagne in her hand, Morgan continued her little tour around the ballroom... more time had passed since her arrival, and yet there was still no sign of the show starting anytime soon. Anette was nowhere to be found and Venezia had vanished at one point as well.

It wasn't long before she found Ganz standing in one of the corners of the room in the company of a woman... she seemed familiar but Morgan couldn't remember where she might have seen her before.

Her lips curled into a smile as she walked over to them... picking up a few of the hushed words that were exchanged between them... the woman's voice was urgent as she spoke about an amulet while waving her hands around in front of Ganz.

"You must know what I'm talking about... it used to belong to the St. Danserd Institute of Magical Research."

It was Ganz who noticed Morgan first, turning his head away from the woman and over in her direction... their conversation came to an abrupt end.

"Ganz..." Morgan said before looking over to the woman, "I'm afraid that I can't remember your name."

"That's Lyra... she used to be the contortionist back at the Circus," Ganz explained.

"Oh... I remember now." Morgan chuckled shaking her head, "I guess I was always too distracted by your tricks and moves... not to mention the gorgeous costumes."

"Mhm, I see." Lyra replied neither sounding nor looking very impressed by Morgan's explanation, "And you are?"

"Morgan Cromwell... I used to sponsor one of the artists before... well you know."

Morgan licked over her lips as she realized that she didn't know whether Lyra had been among those who had supposedly died during the finger or if she had been lucky enough to escape unharmed.

"The fire, you mean." Lyra said crossing her arms in front of her chest, "I can perfectly remember what happened... not like them." She added with a pointed look at some of the other artists around the ballroom.

"Have you managed to speak with Anette?" Morgan asked turning to Ganz.

"Very briefly but she acts like nothing is strange... she really believes that tonight is the premiere. As does everyone else who hadn't survived the fire." A sigh slipped past his lips.

"Some of the guests don't find it weird either. They think it is completely normal that someone disappears for 5 years and then just pops up out of nowhere." Morgan scoffed.

"We should definitely keep our eyes open... I have the feeling that things might not be as they seem." Ganz explained.

"Of course, they aren't, Ganz." Lyra huffed, "People don't stay hidden for 5 years and buildings don't magically rebuild themselves from one day to the next."

"Shouldn't you be a part of tonight's show, Lyra?" Morgan asked with one of her eyebrows arched up, "You used to be one of the artists after all."

"I suppose I should but Anette never reached out to me. Your guess is as good as mine why she didn't." Lyra replied with a shrug, "The invitation was the first time I had heard from her in years."

"It was the first time for everyone, Lyra." Ganz pointed out, "Anette hasn't kept in contact with anyone... neither did any of the others. And now they all act as if they had been around all those years."

"Maybe some questions will be answered after the show tonight," Morgan suggested, "Speaking about questions... what amulet were you talking about earlier?"

"Oh, nothing... it used to be loaned to the Theatre once," Lyra said in a dismissive tone.

"We will see though the premiere is running rather late tonight." Ganz's lips were pressed together, "I will try to speak with Anette again... I can't shake off this feeling that something is off."

The night stretched on and on and Morgan noticed that the other guests were slowly becoming irritated and confused as well... premiere nights had never gone on for this long and neither Anette nor one of the artists made any attempt to finally announce that the show was about the begin.

It was close to midnight when Morgan spotted Cyprien standing in a far-off corner speaking in low, hushed tones with Isabel... she knitted her eyebrows together at the sight. She knew that both of them had been involved in the administration of the Theatre and she had spoken herself with Isabel on a few occasions.

From her spot, Morgan couldn't understand what they were talking about but it was obvious that Cyprien looked angry while Isabel appeared more flushed than usual. She briefly considered walking closer... hoping to catch bits and pieces of their conversation but her attention was drawn away when she spotted Anette in the corner of her eye.

"Is it finally about time..." the brown-haired woman muttered to herself as her gaze followed the ringmaster as she walked around the ballroom... stopping now and then to speak with various people. It was midnight when finally in the distance a bell started to toll. But before Morgan had any chance to react everything around ever went black...

The morning after

Morgan slowly opened her eyes... her vision was still unfocused and blurry for a few seconds before she recognized the familiar ceiling of her bedroom.

"When did I get home?" She mumbled under her breath while slowly sitting up. "And why am I still wearing my dress?" Her eyebrows furrowed together as her fingers brushed over the black and silver fabric.

She swung her legs out of her bed when her eyes fell on the small clock on the nightstand... it was 10 in the evening.

"How is that possible?" Confusion sounded in Morgan's voice as she checked the wristwatches she kept on her nightstand but all of them showed the same time.

"Did I seriously sleep the whole day?" She rubbed her temples... Morgan desperately tried to remember anything that must have happened in the past few hours but her mind remained blank.

She knew that she was at the Risskov Theatre and that there was a bell at midnight but after that absolutely nothing. Shaking her head she walked over to the mirror taking in the sight of her slightly wrinkled dress and the few hair strands that had fallen out of her updo.

"What is that?" Morgan lifted her right hand spotting a small flower-shaped mark on her wrist. She rubbed over it... half-expecting it to disappear but the mark remained... as did Morgan's confusion.

Finally! Edit: Fixed some typos and added two small things

Last edited by schoggettchen (22/11/2022 at 18:13)

Name: Beatrix Seagrave

The Dancer: traits updated, she feels more flashed out now

Face claim: Malika El Maslouhi (thanks to Cajsa)
Age: 28 (or so)
Role: The Dancer

Traits: Indulgent, yet self-disciplined when it comes to dancing. Arrogant. Distrusting by nature. Self-destructive, to some extent, unaware of that. Self-reliant. Realistic, at the core. Open-minded & eager to explore. Quick-witted. Charming. Egocentric.

Personality & Biography:
Once you get to know Bee, you might pick up on the fact she normally presents herself as a dancer since it’s one of the rare things in both her history and her present that she can claim with certainty. Beatrix Seagrave was born around 28 years ago and that is the extent to which she is familiar with that portion of her life. She might have had another name before, but Beatrix Seagrave was “born” when she was three years old and she was found on a shipwreck coming from god-knows-where, heading towards Khivalon Empire. Ideally, you do not name a child who has just lost a parent or two by throwing some very random and very on-the-nose things into their personal information, but there she was. Beatrix, after the only name she repeated, and Seagrave after the fact the rest of her family possibly ended there.

Beatrix turned out to be a good guess: she would buzz around like a bee, quickly, very cleverly, and never without a purpose, which ended up being dance. Ballet talent is hardly ever missed in Khoyesa, and combined with her self-disciplined approach to what she recognized to be her ticket out of the streets…it was a good mix. Her passion became an obsession, then became her source of income and likely the only steady, secure, reliant thing in her life. She never did have much faith in humanity, things would usually come with strings attached to them, and both men and women would demand things she was not willing to give easily. Relationships, for her, most days, were transactional, and she became quite good at those. Observant by nature, and rarely invited to the table (at least in her formative years), Beatrix is a very mindful girl and she had a nose for picking who to observe. She is quick to pick up on clues, she’s witty and well-read, she can be extremely persuasive and charming when she feels like it, and when it comes to reaching her goals to be included in a ballet troupe…she really felt like it. She was in, she was getting good reviews, she was doing her best to climb the ladders - both on and off the stage - and she managed to build a lot of her identity, her reality on a house of cards and growing ego.

A pretty face, gorgeous body, mind that is not to be dismissed and a list of issues that fall in line with the (lack of) upbringing really made her indulge in all the things she could now afford. You might see her in practice and think the girl was an absolute peek of conditioning, but should you encounter her at the dim-lit alleys, entering meeting places meant for those with questionable morals, you’d change your mind. Our girl can toss a drink, drive a hard bargain, loves to gamble from time to time, visit some burlesque shows and really does not mind the carnal pleasures. The remains of her life before the stage allow her to keep anonymous, walk in the shadows, cast a spell or two when a need occurs, and show up to appointments on time. Life is good, off the stage, and on it, things seemed to have become more volatile than one might imagine. Building on shaky grounds does that.

A jealous prima ballerina is never good news, but in combination with a girl who is well-versed in pushing buttons, provoking reactions and has a sense of timing (off and on the stage), it was fuel to fire. The whole thing went up in flames and everything went down quicker than she fell off the stage. The injury was horrible both physically and mentally, the breaking of the troupe was worse, and she was - once again - on her own. The healing - physical, at least - came at a much higher pace as she was determined to get herself up again and before she was back on the stage, she met Ganz who asked her to join the troupe of the Circus of Marvels. Still in pain, she pushed through the challenges with the determination one might credit to some family trait, and she would only credit to the promise she gave to herself: no going back to not being able to afford to live fully. At first, it felt like the kind of gig she was destined to have, and slowly (but steadily) the people grew on her - while it might have taken a while, it did happen: Beatrix actually started to like the majority of them, getting close to some and even considered some of them her friends. What she didn’t see coming was the fire, the death. The family dismantled, but she managed to keep the momentum she had while the Circus was running smoothly and get a good gig afterwards.

Trivia
Beatrix loves to cook and experiment with flavours. Her favourite drink is Salty Dog, she adores soup and any hazelnut dessert. She spends way too much money on jewellery (anything in gold is a win). Beatrix is exceptionally comfortable with nudity. She's a huge flirt but usually doesn't stay interested in people for long enough.

Connections:
Reeva, the two kept a close bond during their time with the Circus and kept their friendship alive since. Beatrix is the most honest with her, and the woman might be closest to what she would call family.
Ganz, the person who approached Beatrix when she was down on her luck and recovering after what she calls the great fall. She appreciated the chance he provided and his general talent for tracking down talent. They formed a bond, friendship if you will, and both have kept in touch since, which she absolutely adores.
Ronan was a colleague turned occasional lover who was on his way to becoming something a bit more when the fire happened and he was declared missing. Beatrix shed her fair share of tears, then moved on.
Nemal quickly became her go-to person in the moments when she felt like things got stale, to toss a drink back, to go away for a night, to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. With his travelling and her tempo, they meet occasionally and it's usually as if no time has passed.
Moren & Cyprien, she knows of both, most likely met both, or was at the same place, but that's the extent.

Current status: dances as a prima ballerina at The Aurum Belles, a smaller dance company, specialising in contemporary forms and stage performances. Based in the Borough of the Welcoming, they revel in their clandestine, occasionally speakeasy-esque dance theatre. Rumour has it they have particular nights where only those who know “the passcode” can enter and join - and that those participants have a certain piece of jewellery to match.

Interests: Moren. Ronan. Cyprien.

(Un)invited

The rush that gets her blood pumping after every performance is comparable to only a few things, out of which she might be able to do one or two out in the public. The new hair stuck to her damp forehead, frizzy curls sticking out of the already loose bun, she makes her way into the dressing room, throwing the cape from the last performance to the armchair near the window. The sweet smell of roses filled the room, dancing on the verge of sickening, so she moved her way to swing the window open, allowing for the crisp air inside. With a few brisk steps and well-rehearsed moves, she’s in front of the mirror pulling the pins and flowers from her hair to the vanity, reaching for the water on the table, only then prepared to slide out of the muslin dress she usually wears in the last act.

Her eyes stumble onto the letter only after she’s half naked, stretching her toes on the cold hardwood floor.

The moment is suspended in time, her body naturally abandons all she is doing, reaching for the paper bearing a familiar crest on the wax seal, deep blue against the cream envelope, memorabilia from another lifetime.

Unintentionally, she rips it open, but the message remains.

Anette Eifageim, the Ringmaster of the Circus of Marvels, has invited you to join the opening night of Aeternalis.

As simple as that.

Her heart beats like crazy, shaky fingers setting it aside, and she gets up, grabbing the silk robe and wrapping it around her body only a second before she opens the door.

“Breen,” she called out as she spotted the boy - he noticed her, running towards the door, and she turns around, fetching her key from the vanity in a swift move of her fingers. “Take this to Reeva, you know where she lives, no?” He nodded at the urgency, and she nods back. “Tell her to meet me there in an hour,” she replied shortly. He nods, again, and after glancing up, she noticed a familiar smile greeting her from across the hallway. She goes back to the room - it was not the right time to get out just yet, the stars come out last, and she takes the moment to pull out some slacks and a shirt from the back.

Ganz knocked once, entering the room without waiting for her to say a thing, which is what she would have done considering she was just at the door waving at him.

He’s surprised by the sight, she’s surprised he looks away surprised, working at the theatre comes with the risk of walking in during wardrobe changes - dresses get stuck, laces get tangled, and mere moments matter.

“Sorry,” he mussed, but she just smiled, buttoning up her shirt before she buttoned up the slacks. His eyes slip directly to what she seems to be the reason for his arrival.

“So, it’s not a prank,” he sighed, glancing at her to confirm he can take it to examine, and she nods.

“It might be an elaborate prank,” Beatrix offered because it felt like he needed comforting at this moment. She leans to the vanity, as he paid all attention to the letter.

“Who has the time?”

“Many,” she replied. “People do absolutely nothing with their time and resources because they have them without trying and take that for granted,” Beatrix concluded, opening the jewellery box on the vanity to pull out a smoke.

“You still haven’t stopped with that?” Ganz asked, kindly avoiding words such as bad, habit or vice, so she smiles. Kindness for kindness, basically.

“Come join me for a drink, Reeva is coming too,” lips curl into a smile, and for a second, in this light, his cheekbones look as appealing as ever.

“Where?” Ganz smiles back, she assumes he won’t deny her.

“My place,” she replied, putting the smoke out, before turning around to reapply her blush and some lipstick. “I have to get out, my fans await.”

“I’ll wait in the front,”

“Give me a head start, I feel like I’ll need at least ten minutes,” Beatrix smiles, heading to the door. She’s not in the mood to walk out each night, but she does it anyway. Back when she was into classical ballet, her audience consisted of many young girls with hopes of becoming ballerinas themselves, mothers would keep them waiting to meet any of them, sometimes particularly her, and since she started dancing at the Aurum Belles, girls are teenagers, rebellious, and there’s not as many of them. And, men are part of the fan base now. Belles combine those classical elements that make ballet appealing to those that have no knowledge of it - fragility, naiveté, innocence - with passionate choreographies, sensual movement and a better show of the figures. Enough to drool, enough to imagine for a second that this delicate, dainty figure on stage is also this fiery temptress when in reality most of her troupe could endure pain and exhaustion one might only imagine. Still, she walks out, she smiles, she exchanges words, she steps into the car by the end of it and leaves.

It’s a slower night, tonight, and by the time she steps out in the back, pulling her coat a bit more around her, it was somewhat chilly tonight. She turns around, seeing a car standing near it - but not the taxi that picks her up usually, this one was far nicer. The chrome glistened under the lamp, and she was startled the next second as someone walked up to her.

A chuckle leaves her, as she recognizes Cyprien Ledrau himself walking from the shadow, her hand on her chest.

“Didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, she shakes her head.

“My damn fault, I got distracted.”

“You like it?” he nodded towards the car. Of course, the car looks like it was purchased by the wealthiest man in this whole damn place. It was a nice position he stepped into, but his blessing was in the fact his looks matched the appeal his money brought into the picture. They never got to exchange more than a few words before, in Risskov Theatre, but in her defence, he seemed as if he was always there with a clear goal in mind. Their goals, at the time, did not overlap. She realizes he was one of the investors five years ago, and seeing him here on the very day she got the invite seems to be too big of a coincidence.

“It’s not half bad,” Beatrix replied nonchalantly, glancing him up and down. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced before,” she smiled, extending her hand.

“No, I don’t believe we have,” Cyprien replied, taking her hand to his. She moves her clutch a little and catches the letter sliding down and into the ground. “I’ve been an admirer of your career for a while, tho,”

“Likewise,” she smirks without breaking eye contact, as he gets down to get the letter. Cyprien returns it to her, turning it once over. “That’s my car,” she says, nudging towards the cab that just arrived. “But, I’m guessing I’ll see you in a few days,”

“Have we made plans I forgot about?” he smirked, walking with her to the car, holding the door open.

“Thank you,” she smiled, brushing against him to get inside. “For the Risskov Theatre opening,” Beatrix says shortly. “I won’t even hold it against you that you did not bring me into the project.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” he chuckled. “I really don’t understand—”

“Risskov Theatre,” she seems surprised because he seems honest. “The invite—”

Beatrix extends the letter towards Cyprien. He examined it for a moment. “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she replied. “You didn’t know?”

“No,” the answer is simple. “Hell, I’m not invited as far as I know.”

“If this implies a plus one, I’ll gladly sneak you in,” she adds playfully, taking it back, before nudging towards the entrance that just opened, letting out a girl from her troupe. “Don’t let your date wait for you while talking to another woman,” she added. He seems more focused on the fact he did not get an invite, and she smiles again. “Don’t be a stranger, Cyprien.”

“Yes,” he said, distracted, but she provided for no other chance to add to it, tapping the seat for the driver to go. She watched him offer his trench to the girl in the rearview mirror. She wonders if he puts his dates first in everything he does. She was not fully aware of the idea at that point, but this was the second she decided she’d find out.

spilling (wine)

Beatrix walks into the room holding a bottle of wine in one hand, and three tumblers in another, setting them down on the repurposed summoning table in the living room which now served as a coffee table. Cork is gone and the wine flows.

Reeva tasted hers, pushing her short hair to the back. “So, he didn’t hear about it?”

“He hasn’t even gotten an invite,” Beatrix shrugs, sliding into the armchair opposite to the loveseat Reeva shared with Ganz, both somewhat confused by the situation. Three invites stood on the table, filling the air in the room with uncertainty.

Beatrix leans in to fetch the invites, setting them down onto her lap and opens each one to observe. “How can a dead person open a show?”

Ganz shrug, hands crossed, wine untouched, she glances at him, brows furrowed. “You’ve seen them after the fire, I just don’t know…”

Her mind trails off after she says to them which is them: the victims, including Ronan. Beatrix bit the inside of her lip shortly, catching herself at an old habit, and stopping it.

“Well, no, I haven’t,” he mused. Both women sit up, in surprise.

“Excuse me, but what?” Reeva asked before Beatrix has the chance.

“There were no bodies found,” he stated, watching their surprise. “The funerals were closed casket—”

“The funerals were those of burn victims, Ganz,” Beatrix argued. “I assumed it was just not—” she shrugs instead of finishing that sentence.

“Who did we bury, then?” Reeva asked, equally surprised.

“No one,” Ganz seems genuinely surprised neither knew about it, and the two of them seemed to have gained a whole new perspective on the matter.

“Do you think she could have survived, then?” Beatrix asked, taking a large gulp of the wine. “Anette, that is.”

“And vanish for five years?” Reeva scoffed. “It would be unnecessarily dramatic.”

Well, if you’ve met Anette, you’d conclude nothing is nor can be unnecessarily dramatic to her. The legend of the great Ringmaster remained after Anette Eifagem died five years ago, yet she left very vivid memories in the minds of everyone who worked with her, especially during her last production, and beyond. Yes, she was a visionary, inspiring, she could turn a sentence into a play, she would combine things one might not think of in the same world, she was the person of her time. But at the same time, Beatrix remembers another side to the great Anette Eifagem. The ambitious woman who really gave very little thought to anyone beyond her goals and dreams, or better yet her creative idea and solution. She would work them to the ground, scenes would be repeated until it was perfect to her, or someone broke down enough to bring her out of the frenzy, she was volatile and decide on a whim to change entire acts, expecting everyone to fall in line and go along with her idea without any time to adjust.

She was a creative genius. She was also imperfect. Both things were true.

She bites her tongue, uncharacteristically to herself.

“I got to solve all the paperwork, as the only surviving founder,” Ganz continued. “The appraises, the reports,—”

“What remained,” Beatrix offered. “So—”

“I don’t know what to say,” he shrugged, finally showing a bit more honestly that he is not really in the right mindset to continue the conversation.

“Tell me what you want to eat,” Beatrix puts the topic to a halt. “Let’s head to the kitchen before either of you gets far too ambitious and blatantly demands something I cannot whip up.”

(You're The) Devil in Disguise

She can turn heads alright. It’s not a matter of trying, it’s a matter of being able to do it without any specific effort put into it: Beatrix just lived her life knowing she was the star, and no one had to say it other than herself.

So, she glistened in her dress, walking through the room at the premiere, and it took everything in her not to be shocked instead of smiling. The theatre was almost new, it looked as if nothing happened there at any point, and she was unsure if she actually lived in a reality where the fire was a thing. Reeva and Ganz smiled from across the room, and after she said hello to some people, she made her way to them easily, grabbing a glass of bubbly before she reached them.

“Making an entrance?” Reeva scoffed playfully. Beatrix would have given some quick playful remark normally, but the fact they stood in the middle of theatre how it once threw her out of her balance, at least with the two people she knew she could be herself around.

“What in the seven hells is this?” she sipped on her drink after a quiet remark. Very subtly, she reached one of the walls, touching the wallpaper shortly. “Even these bloody monstrosities look like they used to,” she refers to the large flower print, turning to Ganz, silent. More silent than he usually is. Bea smiled as he looked at her, reaching out for his forearm shortly, quick squeeze and she nods.

“It’s very—”

“Out of this world, I’d say,” he replied. Both women agreed. Still, the most shocking moment seems to take place only a second later, as Bea looks over Ganz's shoulder, all blood leaving her face as she noticed a very familiar face in the distance. Burgundy suit fit him like a glove, blond strands of hair perfectly falling to frame his face and for a second it feels like she is staring into a dream. Or a nightmare. One second before feeling her grip on the glass slip, she realizes she is not feeling her own body fully, shifting her weight a little to ground herself at the moment, focusing on the people around him before returning to his face.

And at that moment, he looks back at her too. There’s a delightful surprise than his normal charming smirk. Then, Ronan Ohlsen pauses in his step, before heading straight towards her. The soft punch to her gut really sets in and she does what she normally does best: she turns in the very spot she is standing and walks away.

The next room is full, she composes herself, a soft smile curling up the corners of her lips in her attempt to make sense of what just happened there, nodding occasionally as she aimlessly wanders around, a sound of a familiar voice bringing her back from wherever she left.

“Beatrix Seagrave,” she hears an unfamiliar voice behind her, turning around to find herself eye to eye with Moren Lockwood, the current columnist in Theatre and Arts. She’d caught glimpses of him at the Aurum shows, but he’s yet to write a strict review on her - or them - this season. Lockwood wasn’t known for his lenient disposition on art, which is how she imagines he got where he is right now. Before this very building went down in flames, he was not the biggest fan, but the text he penned after it went down in flames was very kind, almost too kind given who wrote it.

“Hi Moren,” Bea smiles. “I wasn’t sure if it was you, earlier,”

“I’m surprised to see you, too,” he smiled, rolling his drink shortly, before throwing a short glance around the room. He diverts his attention back to her, and she can feel herself getting into this particular moment. “Especially after the season you’ve had with the Aurum Bellas.”

“I’ve been told you’ve attended some shows,” she smiles. “Hopefully a few of those passcode protected, too,” Bea teased, but he just flashed her a smile back. Some of the shows got a very bad reputation on the accounts of different individuals who take it upon themselves to become morality police. In reality, alcohol, sensual choreographies, very see-through fabrics and some seduction in the movement went a long way. She loved those evenings, and she was usually able to say who attended which show.

“Those would hardly make the mainstream column,” he smiled, possibly taken aback for a second, and she gives a very nonchalant shrug, taking another sip from her glass. “You’d disagree?”

“Who am I to disagree with a man who can make my career spin in circles?” she teased, while he smiled. “But I’m content to know you’ve attended, we do some of our best work there.”

“You’re not just saying that because you’ve been taking part in the choreographies, aren’t you?” Moren smirks and she shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe,” Bea mused, finishing her drink. “Altho, if I truly am as into power as you claim, I might have not decided to come here on a short notice,” she lets it slip, and he glances at her. “You know something,” Bea grins mischievously.

“I hardly have a clue—”

“Come on, Moren,” she rolled her eyes, this diplomacy feels very out of place right now.

“I’m just, well, surprised,” he says, leaning in a little, to keep the conversation between them. “Surprised that Anette agreed to make space for a duet between Venezia and Rochelle.”

“You mean considering all of…”

“Bad blood? That’s to say the least,” he scoffed.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that there was a letter all those years ago, that cast a shadow on both of them, with some foul accusations, and—” Moren shrugs at that, glancing around the room occasionally, trying to figure out where the stars of the show - and the conversations might be.

“And?”

“It was a mess,” he says in the end. She’s trying to say something, but she notices Ronan again, deciding to go confront him finally. But, before that, she looks at Moren once again, with a smile.

“You’ll have to excuse me now, but…I’ll keep my eye out for you, Moren, and send you the passcode for the next special, close to the stage, I wouldn’t want you to miss out on something.”

“I might even show up on a private note,” he replied, and she is fairly sure there is no such option with him.

Before she can follow Ronan, she almost walks into Cyprien - this time seemingly alone, not at all surprised to see her.

“Your invite didn’t get lost, after all?” she smiles - the idea of not inviting the biggest possible investor seems like a stupid call to make. He smiles, but she can sense his mood is off. “Not enjoying yourself?”

“Everything is just—”

“Off,” Bea offers, somewhat more honestly than she believed herself would be. “I agree, yes.”

“Anette died when this place burned down,” he continued. “Or that’s what we all agreed on, what was the truth.”

She didn’t expect him to look like he was irritated, but for a second he did, which brings her to her own anger which was reclaimed at that very moment. Cyprien turned around, glancing at her shortly, as she looked at the empty space between herself and where Ronan used to stand a second ago.

“And she’s apparently alive, well, thriving and making a new show,” she slips under her façade for a short second, but Cyprien seems to be in the same mood.

“Exactly,” he agreed. Luckily for them, Ronan shows up, and some other person shows up to, both getting their mind on another matter. “I have to catch up with someone,” he gives a polite smile and she nods.

“I was about to say the same,” she says. “I’ll see you around.”

She makes her way across the room, finally approaching Ronan.

“Ronan!”

“Beatrix,” he gives her a warm smile. “How are you?”

“How am I?” she blinked in disbelief and he smiled.

“You seem to look well,” Ronan replied, in the same mood - his best smile forward.

“Ronan, what the hell is happening?” she replied, but he is turning around the room, as if he had other obligations. “We thought you were dead after the fire—”

“What fire?” he seems genuinely confused, but before she can do something, or say something, he’s on his way to slip out of the ballroom into a dark corridor behind and it takes her around a second to make the decision to follow him.

She noticed the faint glow, stepping back as he turned around as if he is the source. Standing there, glowing, making her speechless for a moment and as she makes a step to say something, calls after him, so he turns, smile faded from his face, Ronan reaches out and gives her something. In the faint light, Bea takes a second to figure it’s a page from a book, torn out and very old. She’s about to say something, lips moving and no words are coming out, Bea is freaked out beyond belief and the bell  starts to toll with some weird hum that makes her skin crawl, but she composes enough to say something - and the next thing she sees is the outline of her own bedroom, morning sun, herself in the last nights dress, crystals’ marking her skin and she feels like she has the worst hangover, but then hears the ruffling of something else, and in her hand there is the page from the book. She lets it go as if it was hot, brows furrowed, and she takes a deep breath.

This cannot be real, no?

Well, she unwraps the crumbled paper, seeing the strangest correspondence content: news about an old enchanted microphone stand stolen from St. Danserd Institute.

It takes her a moment, or two, or maybe more, but at least she knows she is not imagining what happened last night.

And in the next moment, she doesn’t think that’s a good thing.

DONE.

Last edited by Zaralee (19/11/2022 at 08:04)

Behind the curtains

Name Ivory "Ivy" Zivai
Face claim Keke Palmer
Age 27

Role The Stagehand

Interests Kelsahn, Kialmirn, Reeva

Traits, Personality& Biography

Traits
bubbly, creative, energetic, determined, observant, careless, forgetful, impatient, naive, stubborn.

Ivy had a simple childhood among the commoners; her father worked while her mother raised her and her siblings. She had six older siblings and one younger. And yet Ivy still could demand the room with her bubbly attitude. She could talk someone's ears off with the stories she told from a young age; she imagined worlds so fantastic they went beyond what people expected. Her mother wasn't that worried about where her children would end up most would follow in their father's footsteps or their mothers, but with Ivy, she was doubtful the girl seemed to have her own will and toughs. And no one would stand in her way.

They may have been poor, but the household was full of love. With so many siblings, Ivy became quite observant; she could quickly tell what people thought where and where stuff was replaced or missing. She never had time alone, which meant she was constantly busy, if not with her hands in her mind. She is someone who won't be able to sit still for an extended period of time.

She was around twelve when her siblings took her to the town circus. Of course, they had to sneak in to see the show, but what a beautiful sight it was. At that moment, Ivy was confident she knew what she wanted to do in life. She would love to build a set like this for artists to enjoy. Even coming up with a play so that all could see her imaginative worlds.
And she did go after her dreams for years; she worked hard. But, with every no, she became more determined to make it. She would go as far as to be careless about her health. She was sick countless times, but as soon as she was on her feet, she would push herself hard again. Finally, her determination and/or stubbornness paid off.

Anette Eifagem, a name that said nothing to her at first. But Ivy soon found out that the circus she had dreamed of working for (since she was fifteen and left home). The ringmaster personally came to ask her to work for her. The proposal may have been for her co-worker, but that was only because the male had been stealing her ideas. So it was only fair for Ivy to take the opportunity in front of her. And she took it; karma is a bitch, after all.

Ivy felt at home in the circus of marvels; she fitted right in with her bubbly attitude and eagerness to help. Everyone seemed to graduate towards her. More than once, she declined offers to participate in the show; she instead liked the behind scene working on the stage and helping out to make sure the performers shined. She loved that about her job, and she would never exchange it. She was peeved that they already had a playwriter but was surprised to learn how well she got along with the woman. Even giving some advice or tips when she had seen the show in rehearsal.

She came to the circus of marvel at seventeen, and for five years, the circus was what she called home. Until the fire broke out, killing a lot and scaring away the rest. Ivy still has nightmares of the night, and if not for Keys, she would have perished with the flames; it still haunts her sleeps; something was off that night, she is sure about it, but she can't put her finger on what it is.

Connections

Lenn Is it weird that Ivy knows the name of a fan? Properly but Lenn and her go way back; she doesn't know how many times she yelled after the woman that she was trespassing and that it was off limits. Until one day, she just let Lenn brows behind the curtains. What was so wrong with allowing a fan to feel like she was a performer after all. Lenn was forever grateful, and Ivy always asked her what she thought of the show and what could have gone better? What did they miss? It was nice to get such feedback to improve the experience for other visitors. They had an understanding, and both seemed to automatically agree on it. There were spaces she could not go into, Ivy would always ask questions, and only Lenn was allowed into the back.

Kelsahn Sanny and Ivy were two peas in one pot; if you saw one, the other followed. They understood each other on a different level. They could talk with one another for one second and be lost in thought the next; most performers would walk towards them with a question and get so confused they walk away. The only person to find something in his hazard was Ivy, who took her time to observe him while they chatted. She would hand him things while he was building sets, and he would teach her all the tricks in return. They went out for drinks multiple times just to be more interested in each other's presents. When the fire broke out, Ivy needed time to get over the lost once and get her act together. When she did, she just wanted to leave everything behind and asked Kelly to go with her. He refused and it hurt Ivy till this day but she understood in the end that he didn't want to leave his home behind.

Kialmirn Key and her had a friendly banter going on; he could be super upset with her when she worked herself to an early grave like he tells her. But she would tell him that not even her father was that worried about her and that she would be fine. Yet when she got sick, Key was there to nurse her back to health while saying I told you so a couple of times which annoyed Iy enough to curse. Only for Key to grin at her. And when Key was stressed, cursing and all, Ivy was there to calm him down or make sure that what bothered him went away. So they had each other's back, and Ivy misses that about them but hasn't been back to Khivalon Empire for the last three years.

Reeva Reeva is the quiet storm to Ivy's bubbly tornado, but somehow Ivy made the friendship work. Ivy would be patient with Reeva because the woman would listen to her advice and ideas, which most did not. Even when Reeva had a down day, Ivy made sure she would be bubbly and ready to listen. If the woman wanted to converse, even if she knew the conversation would be one-sided, Ivy did not mind. Because on some days, Reeva would be open to chatting and telling Ivy, her next idea. Those days Ivy gets a glimpse into her brilliant mind and would be astonished and somehow jealous that she couldn't think of such playwrights yet.

Vivi What can be said about Vivi? More than once, Ivy asked her for an errand, and Vivi always did an excellent job on them. Unfortunately, Vivi never answers when Ivy asks her question, so Ivy stopped asking. Still, she does tell Ivy her dreams of writing a playwright, one that would steal the show more than once, and Vivi always encouraged her to do just that. Ivy hopes the young woman is okay and her bird is safe with her.

Trivia

• Her hair is always messy because she hates the time it takes to brush it but refuses to cut it. She was sometimes lucky when someone had the time to braid it for her.

• She talks to herself, or at least used to when coming up with playwrights. Sanny said it was adorable and liked to tease her about it with a dose of good humour.

• She is a coffee addict. She loves it black with no sugar or milk.

• Loves working with bold colours but prefers to wear white and/ or dark colours.

• A lousy habit, but smoking relaxes her, she found out. So Ivy stopped when the fire happened; she tried multiple other things, but nothing seemed to soothe her nerves like smoking did.

•Meeting Key// •Premiere

text here

TBA

Last edited by NinaJones (14/11/2022 at 21:34)

On the first day after you wake up, everything feels like a dream. You head back to the Theatre again during the day, and are faced with a sooty, blackened ruin, its edifice staring at you. There’s a chain on its gate, held together by a padlock. The ticket booth is disused, its sideboard vandalised. When you peruse the papers, sit at cafes, no one is talking about the Theatre’s premiere. If anything, if you ask about it, you get stared at like a madman. The message you get back is the same: the Theatre is shut, has been shut for the past 5 years. The only thing - the proof you have that the whole thing wasn’t a mass hallucination - is the flower-shaped mark on your wrist and the finery you woke up in.

For the first week, you go about your business as if nothing is wrong. For most part, everything is fine. Then the second week rolls around, and you notice that your flower-shaped mark, ever so slightly, has turned into the shape of a tiny flowering bud. On the first night of that week, you dream of a waif-like figure, backlit against a burning Risskov Theatre.

“You have it, don’t you?” they ask, their voice quiet, plaintive. “They’re fixing what they started.” When you ask have what, they grab your hand without any preamble. Their touch is cold, barely there, and on the back of their hand you can make out a black tattoo of sorts: almost like a lace glove, black bands extending around her wrist.

“Your mark,” they say by way of explanation. They trace their fingers over it, and for a moment, you watch as your hand goes translucent, ghost-like, even. Before you can process it, she lets go, and you’re whole - solid again.

You can’t see the figure’s features, but you think they might be frowning. “They got it wrong,” they say, apropos to nothing “You have six months.”

They breathe another sentence, soft, quiet. “Before they bind you to the Theatre. Before everyone’s bound to it. For good. ”

But before you can ask another question, there’s a scream - triumphant, and the figure jumps back. You open your mouth and try to form a question.- but the figure holds up a finger to what you think is their lips, stopping you. Their head turns, casting a glance back as if they’re watching out for something - someone.

“Gotta run,” they murmur, and you can now definitely see a flicker of a smile on their face. Then there’s a howl of wind, a thunderclap - and you awaken in your own bed, more questions than answers. The next to contact you verifies your dream, tells you of your suspicions, and now you know: you are marked.

There is research to be done, you learn - chief among themwhat is happening, and how to get rid of the mark. But life in Khoyesa goes on - and there are events to attend. For one, in this month, the Summer Solstice Festival is about to go into full swing: a week’s worth of revelry, drinking, and general shenanigans. You are free to go alone, or pick out someone to attend with. Then the next: the Flower Show, taking place in Maidentear Park, where the doors of the Khivalon Royal Botanical Gardens are thrown wide open. You are free to attend - or skip, as you will. And don’t forget, there is investigating and research to be done.

*****************
On a hosting note, this round introduces “Places to Investigate” - and a little bit of the balancing act. The theory is, if you go to these events, you get to socialise a bit more - but you lose out on investigating, and vice versa. You might get clues from investigating locations, or you might chat with an additional interest to get more information. Both will lead to solving the mystery (and affecting the ending, actually).

For each event you attend, you get one extra interest, but lose out on one location to investigate - and vice versa. So you can max out at four interests but at a cost of having only 2 locations to investigate, or you can have 4 locations to investigate, but only have 2 interests. You can also do a 3/3 split, but that’s entirely up to you.

For this round - and the rounds going forward - make your choice: either you can attend these events, or miss out on them to do more research on your condition and what is going on. The deeper into the contest you get, the more places open up and that you can investigate.

If you’re worried about your connection with the characters, however, the rule remains the same: quality over quantity. So don’t fret too much!

*****************
Timeline Reference:
✬ Month 1 - Weeks 1-2 - Summer: The Aftermath and the Dream
✬ Month 1 - Weeks 3-4 - Summer: Summer Solstice Festival
✬ Month 2 - Weeks 5-6 - Summer: The Flower Show
✬ Month 2 - Weeks 7-8 - Summer: Peace and quiet (at last!)

Round Requirements:
Name:
Age:
Role:
Going to the Summer Solstice Festival and/or the Flower Show?: Yes (if yes, which one(s))/No
Interests: Minimum 2, if you choose not to attend any events; maximum 4 if you choose to attend both the Festival and the Flower Show
Places to Investigate: Minimum 2, if you choose to attend both events; maximum 4 if you choose not to attend any
Outfit: (One minimum for your research. Others you can add as you wish!)
Story:

*****************
Feel free to finish up your Round 1, though I ask if it’s at this stage, finish up whatever chapter you have left and move on to Round 2. There’s always more mysteries to explore! As always, if you have questions - ask. Or if you need a different time frame, also let me know so I can adjust accordingly!

Last edited by Jadis (17/11/2022 at 15:05)

Note: as the contest progresses, more and more locations will be posted for you to choose from. For now: feel free to pick from the ones below. If you want more information about the city proper, I put together a little something. Feel free to ask me about anything on here as well!

Accessible locations

Ticketing
Located in a small building off to the side of the Theatre. When there were no shows, perhaps one of the two areas that could be accessed by the public - the other being the cafe near the gazebo.

Gazebo
The charming little wooden structure built outside of the Theatre, found nestled among the garden and wooded pathways of the Theatre. It seems romantic enough for a little bit of rendezvous shenanigans, right up until the saner, cooler minds realise the gazebo is smack in the middle of a large pathway that several people tromp up and down from.

Audience Stands
Where the usual audience sits. The ringside seats, as usual, go for the highest number, while the further away, the cheaper the tickets. It’s always been packed with nary an empty seat - and some have even scratched their initials (badly) on the wooden panelling.

Box Seats
The VIP box seats, facing the front of the stage. Very limited in number - on three different layers, a total of eight per layer. There were four reserved for exclusive patrons only, the remaining 8 were rented out at a high cost. The next expensive seats were ringside, and then prices drop off from there. The central two are exclusive - and one is frequented exclusively by Cyprien Ledrau.

Stadium
The circus arena. Large central stage, with audience stands going up on three sides. Evokes the “big top”, but has discreet “boxes” levitating on both sides of the Stadium. When not in use, the big “pillars” are blank - but can be enchanted and reconfigured to be part of the set and stage design.

Concert Hall 1
More of a classical setting, suited for a solo vocalist or a small band of performers. Meant to be more intimate - can be magically configured into having “dinner tables”, but for most part they’re for the audience. Often used by Venezia Hayward or by small, up-and-coming musicians

Concert Hall 2
Looks closer to a jazzier, speakeasy, cabaret-type venue - often rowdy and raucous, as the performer plays her show with her own back-up crew. Features its own cocktail bar. Usually used by Rochelle Ohlsen, although Kialmirn has been known to pop into the place and use it for his own performances.

Accessible locations

Borough of the Fierce
Maidentear Park
The Maidentear Park is located in the north-western corner of the city - odd, given that the sun doesn’t quite reach it as often, but it has not stopped this part of the city turning into a beautiful wilderness - carefully curated, but often thrilling all the same. In the summer, its front gardens turn into a veritable sea of flowers, popular with couples and families alike, attracting local tradesmen and all sorts to wander its twisting pathways.

Borough of the Enlightened
The Institute of St. Danserd
Perhaps one of the oldest academic institutions, the Institute of St. Danserd is home to several faculties and research facilities, including the St. Danserd Institute of Magical Research. No, do not ask how that name came about, because chances are, no one really knew either. Excellent for those who choose to visit the locale - whether it be to soak in the academic atmosphere, or conduct some research.

The Perandir Library
The Perandir Library is perhaps the biggest library in Khoyesa - rivalling even that of the different academic institutions. Books, cultural artefacts, and other odd bits and ends find their way here, with the Library hosting occasional exhibitions. It also has the most complete record of newspapers and periodicals, available for anyone and everyone to peruse.

Last edited by Jadis (17/11/2022 at 15:23)

Beatrix

Moren knows Beatrix and her career - through her work, the papers having charted her rise, her fall (offstage, an unfortunate incident, really), and her rebirth first in the Circus of Marvels, and then now with her new troupe. It would be no surprise to see her back at the premiere now, though he had expected Anette - if the woman hadn’t lost her touch - to have invited the dancer back to headline at least a performance or two in conjunction with the Circus’s usual fare. He would not mind seeing her again,  whether it be at the show or at work. As for the mark - eh. So far, nothing alarming, and if it were magical, he had contacts to ask and see.

As you might notice, Moren is a fairly busy man, usually flitting around between shows, writing his columns - on some occasions, making or breaking careers. Still, he’s easily found if you decide to make your rounds in the Borough of the Enlightened, usually coming out of a meeting. He is pleasant, for most part, courteous even, and the mark doesn’t quite disturb him

Ronan for most part, was pleased to see Beatrix again - though for now, he was more worried than anything else. Whether it was because of the lingering ties between them (he never said goodbye properly, could he?), or whether it was simply out of pure concern, she never should have set foot back inside the Theatre. And now - this. He could feel the tug of the magic too, slowly beginning to grasp ahold of her, of everyone, threatening to draw them into the Theatre the same way whatever this was going on had drawn them all in. Still, the selfish part of him wanted to meet again - to catch up, whatever this was, to see where she was at the end of it. Now, if only he could do something about this not-being-able-to-talk matter…

Compared to the other interests, you will not be able to find Ronan during the day - even if you search, all you are pointed to is his gravestone. If you are inclined to speak with him, you will need to find him inside the Theatre, and at night. Each time you do, you’ll find him inside waiting, though for most part he can only gesticulate. You can, however, through trial and error, discover that there are certain parts of the Theatre he can talk in, though for most part, he behaves and speaks as if he never died.

Cyprien considers reconnecting with Beatrix a surprise, but a welcome one. He found her presence - and her wit - diverting, distracting even, if only slightly. He did look forward to their next meeting, whenever it was - though given his recent associates at the Aurum Bells, the chance was likely to be higher than zero. Still, there were bigger things at work - to be concerned with, not least of all the re-appearance of Anette Eifageim, the woman who’d allegedly vanished in the fire and re-appeared, together with the investment him and Isabel had been trying to put together in the days to the Aeternalis. He ought to ask around - and perhaps look a little deeper into the Institute, if whatever the dream said was true. If he put such stock in visions and foolish superstition…

Beyond those thoughts, Cyprien is open to meeting up with Beatrix - whether it be for a drink, a late night show, or something a little casual and intimate. That said, he’ll be unavailable for a bit in the first month, excusing himself on the premise that he’s looking for answers - into the Theatre, into Anette’s re-appearance. Later on, should you wish to go and investigate locations with him, he’ll be more than amenable to the answer - and he can open certain doors.

Ivory

TBA

Lyla

Tajun has mostly forgotten how amusing it was to tease Lyla, actually, given her impeccable range of emotions from “exasperated” to “actually capable of being affectionate”. He’d also forgotten how nice it was to see her, even if she had been acting oddly since - well, they got together for a bit. Still, old habits died hard, and they fell into their old routines like it had been back at the Theatre so long ago, when she was still stitching costumes and threatening to perform unlicensed acupuncture on her poor hapless victims - ah, no, her models. A part of him still wondered about that night in the Theatre - the premiere, and the strange mark on his hand. And now, that dream…

Beyond that, he is pleased to see Lyla, though the fact that she’s a little odd around him doesn’t escape his notice. Still, he’s not exactly the kind to push - not yet, the very least, because it’s been five years, and he’s not certain where you two stand. In the first month, he’ll still be playful, trying to get a rise out of Lyla - and when he talks about the dream (if asked), he will use his melodrama to mask actually - he’s not sure where this is going, and if he should be scared. In the second month, he’ll do some digging into the mystery itself, and mention that he’s speaking to Lenn, the academic - about the ritual, and that he might help to pop into the Theatre to gather things. He won’t invite Lyla - not yet, but he promises to share things if he gets any note of it.

Kelsahn has always seen Lyla as a comfort, and this time is no different: it was good to know that firstly, he’s not finally going mad after all those years of unbridled creativity, and that he hadn’t imagined the bloody Theatre being whole again. Or the invitation. Though seeing Anette was - a shock. Quite a big one, given that he’d spent time mourning with Ganz over the death of the third of their little triumvirate. He stared at the flower mark on his wrist, idly tracing its pattern - and then focused just the faintest pinprick of magic. He winced as the resistance took hold, in the form of static skipping up his finger. Hm. He had a theory he would like to test.

He is reassured by Lyla’s presence, and is glad his friend seems - at least, for most part, under control. Or at least, as controlled as she could make it, given this situation. He’ll be in a very contemplative mood in the first month, and if you walk in on him, you’ll catch him sketching out certain diagrams - as if revisiting the Risskov Theatre.

Lyla is no stranger to Andrei, and he’s always appreciated her presence whenever they hang out. He’d mentioned leaving the little leagues - or at least, coaching them, yes, but recent events made him reconsider. There was a weird mark on his wrist, yes, but that wasn’t really going anywhere - maybe he could get someone to lift the mark off him? Maybe… no, actually. No, he’d have a harder time locating them to do so. Maybe he’d stay and train the kids a little longer - even if the pay was bad. That said, he really wouldn’t mind sharing more of this sort of - shenanigans that was going on. Shenanigans, as Vivi would call them. Maybe him and Lyla could put their heads together? She always seemed more alert to the goings-on that he was…

For most part, Andrei doesn’t seem much changed after the Theatre. He’ll note that it’s a little odd, but he’s never really put a lot of stock in dreams or visions - and if there’s something wrong, Kialmirn or Tajun would be the first to tell him. You can go find him anytime you wish, whether it be exploring a little league game - or helping the kids practise their catches. He does drop a line or two that some might need a new kit, and that they’re being sponsored - something he’s excited about.

Morgan

Cyprien always finds it pleasant to speak with Morgan whenever they run into each other: it’s always good to speak to a fellow appreciator of the arts, especially when several investors and patrons tend to use it as a way to boost their own reputation. Speaking to her too was reassuring - a confirmation that yes, this was very much happening and he hadn’t gone quite mad yet. He wondered how much of the Theatre’s actual finances she was aware of - and what she might have found out about Anette’s re-appearance. It certainly might narrow things down.

Cyprien, for the first month, will be relatively more free, and you two can arrange a business lunch - speaking of investments, or potential theatres he might be interested in. He does mention one or two: the Glittering Parlour, for example, or the Nightingale, where he knows a theatre troupe specialising in plays might be put on. The conversation will naturally drift to the strange premiere at Risskov, and you are free to disclose your findings.

Ganz appreciated Morgan: both her presence and her support. Yes, plenty of investors and patrons of the Circus had come to him after the Theatre had burnt down, but most treated it as a way to climb up - as opposed to being human, which Morgan did. She treated him as an equal, and he appreciated her input. So the Aeternalis - and Anette - weren’t a hoax, and neither was the invitation. He couldn’t tell if the feeling in his stomach was the fear of what the dream was - six months? For what? Or for anticipation. Perhaps both…

If you so wish, you can meet up with Ganz more in these two months: the concert season hasn’t started, and while he is rehearsing quite frenetically, he has time to meet up, whether it be for a coffee or for a little walk. He will be glad to accept the invitation for the Summer Solstice Festival, seeing it as a good way to take things off his mind - and to have a day of relative relaxation.

Venezia knew of Morgan - an important skill, really, when you were making your way through show business, and she wasn’t fool enough to forget a face, especially one that belonged to the Theatre’s patrons. Yes, talent was important, but knowing who you could talk to, who you could charm was important - moreso, actually, if you didn’t want to stick to jazzy high-kick routines and dance numbers to extend your longevity. Unlike some other singer she knew. Still, the conversation was pleasant, light even. Nothing too taxing, which suited her just fine. Prying people, after all, had no place in her little circle. Speaking of people in her circle… damn this binding ritual. And damn whoever performed it. When she got her hands on them…

Unlike other interests, Venezia cannot and will not be found during the day - no matter how hard you try, or who you look for in the contacts. If you are inclined to speak with her, you will have to seek her out in the Theatre at night - and in certain parts of the Theatre, where her ties are the strongest. At first, she’ll be quiet, responding to you only with shrugs and nods. Eventually, however, you may come to realise this: she cannot speak - at all, and in certain lights she has a translucent quality.

Last edited by Jadis (23/11/2022 at 16:01)

✦

Form

Name: Lyla Ivanov
FC: Mila Kunis
Age: 26
Role: The Costumer

Other Info

Traits: Meticulous | Firm | Passionate | Reliable | Protective — Guarded | Irritable | Sarcastic | Moody

Personality: Lyla has always been told that she was quite stoic but she sees that as a rather good trait to have, especially when working with stars and artists, all who have their own moods and can be a pain in the ass at times. She’s had quite the characters to deal with and if she were not firm with them, she’d never get her work done. In dealing with said artists, she also has to interact with them in a way that tells her what she needs to know about their requirements for their performances, so she’s rather good at listening to them (and their problems). She doesn’t mind listening and advising, however she herself finds it difficult to open up to people. Her emotions are kept tightly reined, although one does tend to make itself known - her exasperation. She likes children but doesn’t know how to be around them, and is easily shy and flustered when in an unexpected situation.

Biography: During her time in the orphanage, Lyla had always been interested in clothes—more specifically, showmen clothes. She grew up as an orphan, and had been in and out of foster homes until she was finally old enough to get her own life, working enough dull jobs to pay her way through classical art education. Her passion lay in fantastical designs, built to dazzle the audience whilst also being convenient for the wearer. She left her schooling behind when she realised she simply could not conform to their traditional methods.

She had always been interested in the entertainment industry, captivated by the stunning visuals of the performers and the ambiance of the environment. With longing and desire to join something so out of the ordinary, Lyla spent many a late night creating and drafting designs to show the people in charge. It didn’t take long for her skills to shine through and before she knew it, she was working for the Circus of Marvels, a place where she felt she belonged and her passion could flow unbridled. That was of course, until the fire.

Now she works at an ordinary seamstress shop, forever getting chewed out for going a little too beyond the scope of what was requested for their very dull, lifeless attire.

Trivia:
- Loves to dress well
- Late nights are the best time for her to work, the silence is so very peaceful
- Hums when she’s pre-occupied
- Likes children and finds teenagers annoying but hilarious
- Can go off on a ramble when talking about her work and passion

Connections

- Kelsahn (The Set Designer): Lyla likes the man’s creative mind, and she herself finds inspiration in his work, and constantly shifting thoughts. They tended to work closely together, to find the  balance for the costumes and set to be the perfect match. She likes him, finding his chaotic personality to greatly contrast her own closed-off nature. He can get too much for her introverted self, so she would find a window in their conversation to escape back to her own peaceful workroom. She respects him greatly, though sometimes she does have to remind him of what he was last saying. After the fire, they met up a few times to share a meal, and she found comfort in him, serving as a reminder that they were friends that had met in a dazzling environment but are now two creatives stuck in a world of boring routines.

- Tajun (The Acrobat): He had been one of the performances that Lyla had first seen when stepping foot into the world of extraordinary entertainment, and he was one that had bedazzled her the most, though of course, she would rather die than admit this to him. He was top of her list for being the most troublesome performer to work on, not only because of his finicky, picky nature, but because she was pretty sure he liked to be annoying on purpose. Though he exasperated her, he also amusing and she found herself enjoying his company. They became friends, often sharing meals during some of her late night work, and due to their closeness at the time, she had ended up feeling a little more for him than a friend would. Their friendship took a weird turn after the fire, when she got vulnerable and tipsy, and with the help of liquid courage to boost her feelings for him, she uncharacteristically came on to him and they ended up spending one of the best nights of her life together. Of course, she was quick to escape before he woke the next morning and ever since then, she’s been avoiding him, too embarrassed to deal with their awkward situation. She has not contacted him since that night.

- Andrei (The Strongman): Andrei tended to spark Lyla’s protective instinct and, like with Tajun, exasperation. He was easy to talk to, and one of the easiest to style. He could charm the room, and her along with them, with a smile and a few words. Lyla liked that he was straight-forward and would speak his mind if something was bothering him. He was a sweet guy, kind, and always willing to help carry things around, but his gullible nature meant that she would have to take him aside and remind him that just because someone said “I need your expensive gold watch to rebuild my boat to get back home”, it did not mean that he had to give those scammers his heirloom watch. After the fire, they maintained contact with each other, and she sometimes goes to watch his little league games.

- Vivi (The Urchin): Due to Lyla’s often late-nights at her workroom, she had become quite familiar with late-night roaming Vivi and her not-songbird Rara. And working with Kalsahn meant that she would often see Vivi hanging around, and being his chaotic little helper. Lyla was both grateful and mystified for the impish Vivi because she could get her hands on items that Lyla was almost certain no longer existed in normal markets…. Or even the black markets. But oh well. Questioning Vivi got Lyla nowhere so instead, she just gave Vivi snacks that she likes (though Vivi certainly can get them on her own) and forbade Rara from entering her workshop. Talons and her special materials did not mix. Somehow on her bad days, Lyla found herself feeling better whenever Vivi showed up and even though Lyla didn’t always understand her, she appreciated the company. After the fire, Lyla never heard about or from Vivi, and often found herself missing her company when she was stuck doing late-night design re-dos at her new job.

- Isabel (The Accountant):  They were on friendly terms, exchanging polite conversations and brief chats now and then, mostly about materials prices and the like. Outside of work talk, Lyla and Isabel would drink together occasionally, enjoying the silence and peace away from the hustle and bustle of the Circus. After the fire, they would meet once or twice for a drink and last Lyla heard, Isabel had her own firm.

Attending Festival: The Flower Show
Interests: Tajun, Kelsahn, Andrei
Places to Investigate:
- City District - Borough of the Enlightened - The Perandir Library
- Front of House - The Stadium
- Front of House - Concert Hall 1
✦

Outfits:

Research at the Library              |               Flower Show


Checking out the Theatre


Story:

Month 1

iv - Ghostly Illusions

✬ Weeks 1-2 - Summer: The Aftermath and the Dream

Lyla was now absolutely certain she was not crazy, despite everything around her telling her she must be.

The ticket booth where there was most certainly an alive person manning it just last night, and all the days prior, was now empty and very clearly disused, familiar vandalised drawings on the side of the thing. The Theatre was back in its ruined, blackened glory — abandoned with a padlock blocking off access to outsiders. Not that anyone would want to go into place where a mysterious fire took place.

Standing in front of the great burnt-down building, she had thought she was crazy the first time the Theatre returned, alive and well, and now here she was, testing her sanity yet again. And with the way people on the streets did not even bat an eyelash, she knew better than to try and see if they saw what she saw. It was a given by now that they didn’t.

Spinning on her heel, Lyla went about her day, visiting the markets and picking up groceries for her home. She may be doing normal chores but what she was really after were the whispers in the wind, listening to the people around her just to make absolutely certain she wasn’t alone in experiencing the return and disappearance of the Theatre. It was just as she’d thought; not a single peep made its way to her ears, nothing about the Theatre or Aeternalis.

The only proof she had that it was not a hallucination was the flower mark on her arm and the dress she’d woken up in. Even the leaf she’d taken from the Theatre had vanished. If the blackened ruins was not an illusion, did that mean the entirety of what happened in the past week was?

Back at home, Lyla combed her fingers through her hair, the motion keeping her grounded. She did the right thing by taking leave off from the boutique for a few weeks. She’d put in the request almost immediately after receiving the letter and was grateful for the time she would have to try and figure out what was happening. Time was a fickle thing, and she did not think she’d be able to focus on her work properly until she could have some of her questions answered.

At first, during the first week after the “Aeternalis” show, nothing out of the ordinary happened. She didn’t reach out to anyone nor was she reached out to. They all needed to gather themselves, she supposed. But the quiet, almost peaceful time came to an end when the second week rolled around, bringing along with it a reminder of Risskov and a new discovery of the flower mark.

It had now turned into a tiny flowering bud.

✦

Lyla didn’t have to pinch herself to know she was dreaming.

Staring at the waif-like figure standing before her, backlit by a burning Risskov Theatre, her eyebrows furrowed together.

“Who—”

The figure lifted a hand up, as though about to reach for her. “You have it, don’t you?’ they ask, their voice quiet, plaintive. “They’re fixing what they started.”

It was a wonder she could hear them so clearly over the roar of the fire —except she realized that the noise of the burning building was but a dull commotion in the background, not loud enough to interrupt the conversation.

Lyla blinked, confused as she recalled their earlier question. “Have what?”

They grabbed her wist without any preamble, their touch cold, barely there. Lyla’s eyes dropped down to their hand as they did so, noticing a black tattoo, almost like a lace glove, black bands encircling their wrist.

“Your mark,” they murmured, tracing their fingers over the flower mark on her wrist, and for a moment, Lyla watched as her hand went translucent, almost ghost-like. Before she could process what just happened, the figure dropped their hold on her, and she became solid again. She lifted up her hand, staring at it, relieved that she could no longer see through it.

“What do you—” Her sentence died on her tongue as she noticed the figure seemed to be gazing at her mark . She couldn’t see their features, but it almost felt like they were frowning.

“They got it wrong,” the figure said. “You have six months.”

What did they mean? Who got what wrong? Six months for what?

They breathed out another sentence, soft, quiet. “Before they bind you to the Theatre. Before everyone’s bound to it. For good.”

“What do you—”

A scream cut through the air, startling her and the figure into jumping back, away from each other. Lyla whipped her head around, trying to locate the source of the scream. It sounded almost… triumphant. She turned back to the figure, opening her mouth to ask—

But they stopped her, bringing a finger up to what she presumed was their lips, indicating for her to be silent. She closed her mouth, watching them, waiting for something to happen. They turned their head, casting a glance behind them as though watching out for something - or someone.

“Gotta run,” they murmured, and Lyla could now definitely see a flicker of a smile on their face. Before she could reach for them, to ask something, anything, there was a howl of wind, a thunderclap, and then —

Jolting awake and filled with even more questions than when she fell asleep, Lyla let out a shaky breath, running a hand through hair that was now damp with sweat. Gods, what kind of dream was that?

Glancing down at her budding mark, Lyla ran her fingers over it. At least she got one answer from that weird dream — the flower was definitely a mark, and apparently, it was a countdown to their impending doom.

v - Spirited Dreams

✬ Week 2 - Summer: After the Dream

“Andrei,” Lyla greeted, more than happy to see her friend. He was somewhat of a warm comfort to her, his light-hearted, bright nature always bringing out the more relaxed side of her. Or, well, the more protective side.

Andrei smiled widely as he walked up, already opening up his arms to hug her. She returned the embrace, pulling away with an affectionate pat on his arm. Around them, children chatted loudly as they were picked up by their parents or siblings. She and Andrei waved at the kids as they walked off, and it was only as the last child left the field that she turned to focus on her friend.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” she observed, leaning her hip against the railing, watching as he sat down on a bleacher, stretching out his legs. She glanced at his wrist, seeing the exact same flower mark on his wrist, identical to the one she had. However, unlike her,  Andrei didn’t seem to be much bothered by it. He was rarely bothered by much anyway.

He grinned up at her, looking so adorably similar to a golden retriever puppy that she almost wanted to reach out and pat his head. She had great self-restraint however, and managed to not do just that.

“Got great news today. Remember how I said that some of the kids needed a new kit?”

Lyla nodded, recalling the conversation from a while ago. “Yeah, Sarah, Josie and Nathan, right?”

“Yes. Well, they’re being sponsored, so the new equipment will be coming in in a few days,” he said enthusiastically, eyes bright with excitement. Lyla couldn’t help but mirror his happiness, feeling her own smile stretch across her face.

“That’s so great, I’m thrilled for them! When did the sponsorship come in?”

Andrei let out a happy sigh, leaning back against the seat. “Early this morning. You should have seen Jason’s face — it was priceless.”

“Oh please, Jason’s always looking shocked at everything,” Lyla laughed, shaking her head. “You could catch a ball in front of him and he’d look absolutely speechless.”

Andrei chuckled, stretching out one more time before getting to his feet. “Oh, by the way, Ta—”

“Hey, there you are.”

“What the—” Lyla’s heart almost leaped out of her chest as Tajun appeared by the bleachers behind her, his expression perfectly neutral. It was the sparkle in his eyes that made Lyla point an accusatory finger at him, her other hand clutching at her chest as she tried to calm her hammering heart.

“Gods, don’t sneak up on me like that! Haven’t you fixed that bad habit of yours?”

“I walked in, no sneaking here,” he said, giving her an innocent blink of his eyes, a look that she definitely did not buy. If Andrei was a golden retriever, Tajun was a cat, as elegant and mischievous as one.

“There was an entrance right there,” she complained, pointing to the one across her. “You did this on purpose, going all the way around to get the back entrance.”

“I assure you, I did no such thing,” he said, moving smoothly over to where Andrei was, and clapping him on the shoulder. “Just heard from Jason that you got a sponsor for your kids. Happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Andrei beamed. “Let me go grab my things and then we can head out.”

Lyla could almost swear he had a bounce in his step as he left. She watched him walk away, all too aware of the presence she was now in. Only once Andrei was out of view did she finally turn to face Tajun. He was already looking at her, sitting on the bleachers and somehow managing to make even that look effortlessly cool. She felt almost disgusted by that. How did he do it? Did he take lessons for it?

“You’re giving me a dirty look,” he said, sounding very amused. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“Why is there a ‘yet’ in your sentence?” she asked, once again leaning her hip against the railing and crossing her arms over her chest so that she didn’t do something stupid like reach out and brush away that goddamn strand of hair in his face. A memory of her doing just that as he hovered over her flashed through her mind, causing her to immediately drop his gaze and look down instead, at his hands. His lovely hands with their long and elegant fingers, yet rough to the touch. Those hands that had been all over her bod—

Her eyes narrowed onto his wrist. “You’ve got one too, hm?”

Tajun’s eyes dropped down to where his own mark sat on his skin, just barely peeking through the long-sleeved shirt he wore. He grinned up at her. “Nothing misses your sharp eyes, huh? Bet you’d notice lipstick stains on my—”

Lyla rolled her eyes, not liking the idea of lipstick stains on him. Well, lipstick stains that weren’t hers. She held out her hand, palm up. “Wrist, please.”

As though it was automatic, Tajun gave her his wrist without hesitation, his lips still curved up in a playful smirk. She leaned in, getting a good look at his mark. Yep, it was exactly like hers and Andrei’s, in the same small budding form. And if she were to guess, Kelsahn probably had one too. She brushed her thumb over Tajun’s mark, back and forth, once again wondering how that mark got formed. What kind of magic was in play here?

“You have one too?”

Lyla nodded, still staring at Tajun’s flower mark. “We all probably have one.” There was a very probable chance that everyone who was invited to the Aeternalis event also got one. Were they brought there specifically to get marked? If so, why? To bind them to the Theatre like the dream said?

“Can I see yours?”

Absently, she gave him her wrist to look at. “There’s something really weird happening and I—”

Lyla blinked as she looked up and almost head-butted Tajun’s expensive looking button-up shirt. The shirt that was covering his chest.

She didn’t realize he’d gotten up and was now standing directly in front of her, holding her wrist so gently in his hand, pressing lightly against the mark with his thumb. He was looking at her wrist, focused on the flower but Lyla’s attention was now focusing on the fact that he was close enough for her to smell him. Her heart took off and she immediately dropped his wrist, embarrassed.

“What are you doing?” she muttered, her fingers twitching with an urge to push him away, or maybe pull him in. Gods, he smelled so good. Okay, she was gonna push him.

His eyes flickered to her, unfathomable but still somehow warm. “I’m just looking at your mark.”

Her hand landed on his arm and she gave him a light pat. “You’re invading my space. Don’t make me poke you.”

His eyes brightened with mirth as he leaned an inch closer. “You wouldn’t. You don’t have your needles on you.”

“Mhm, come closer and we’ll see if I have them on me or not.” She tipped her head back, jutting out her chin slightly. “You know better than to invade my space, Tajun.”

His eyes darkened slightly, his smile widening almost flirtatiously as he cocked his head to the side. Lyla stared, unsure how to handle the full force of Tajun when she was so unprepared to be around him. Her breath caught.

“I’ve invaded mor—” he stopped, dropping his gaze suddenly as though remembering himself. With a last brush of his thumb across her wrist, he stepped away with a long sigh. “Fine, I don’t want to experience acupuncture by your hands.”

She swallowed, grateful he turned away.

“Why not? It could be a thrilling experience for you,” she managed, clearing her throat and pretending she was about to spontaneously combust just then. “I thought you liked to chase thrills.”

“Ah, any experience with your needles will be thrilling,” Tajun agreed. “But I’d rather not become paralysed. I still have so much to do, so many more screams to hear.”

“Of the audience I presume.”

He nodded, deadpanned. “Of course, what else could they be?”

She rolled her eyes as a snicker escaped her, glancing at the exit as Andrei’s footsteps sounded. “Whatever you say.”

Andrei appeared, his things in hand. He nodded to Lyla. “Shall we go?”

Tajun tilted his head. “Where are we going?”

“Um,” Lyla cleared her throat, chancing a glance at him. “My place. For coffee.”

Tajun just looked at her as they made for the exit,  Andrei rummaging in his bag, oblivious to the situation around him.

“I’d like for you to come,” she murmured  to Tajun. His lips twitched.

“Isn’t that invading your space?”

Lyla sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes yet again. “You know that’s absolutely not the same thing.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“Tajun, don’t make me stab you.”

✦

  As Lyla had suspected, both Tajun and Andrei had the same dream of the waif-like figure. But while Lyla was more concerned about what the dream could possibly mean, Andrei was quite the opposite. He had been more relaxed about it, only admitting that he did find the dream a little odd but, well, he’d never really put a lot of stock in dreams or visions.

“Yeah, because he’d probably wait for me or Kialmirn to tell him if something was wrong,” Tajun interjected with a laugh. Andrei shrugged, not the least bothered by that statement.

“Well, I think there’s something wrong and that the dream was weird,” Lyla said, bringing up her legs and sitting cross legged at her little round table where her seamstress bunny was sitting. Tajun had been glancing at the toy since she’d served them coffee and now that they were done with their drinks, his self-restraint must have broken because he reached out to grab the bunny, looking wholly satisfied as he smiled down at the toy.

“Bunny Lyla,” he said, impressed. “Sanny?”

“Yep.” She didn’t want to tell him what the toy did but he’d quickly figured it out, eyes widening in delight as the bunny hopped about, threatening the air with her needle. Lyla sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, where she was sure all the stress had gathered. “Doesn’t the dream bother either of you?”

“Oh no, I am very spooked,” Tajun said, nodding, not taking his eyes off the bunny. “I fear I may never close my eyes again.” Although he was obviously playing it off, Lyla could see the tightness in his eyes, like he wasn’t sure himself about how to go about the dream.

She let out a long-suffering sigh, deciding that it might be better not to push him. “Are you ever serious?”

He feigned offence at her statement. “Of course I am. Just not around you.”

Lyla stared at him, making a show of slowly reaching into her pocket to pull out a cute little tin can and popping it open in front of him, showing him the rows of various sized needles. She’d grabbed it once she got home, waiting for this very moment. “How would you like to be my guinea pig? I’ve always wanted to tie a man down—”

“Well, that does sound promising—”

“—and stab him with my needles,” she finished, pulling out her biggest needle. “Won’t you let me tie you up, Jun?”

He was grinning as she spoke but at the mention of his nickname, his smile froze for a moment, eyebrows raised. He licked his lips, leaning back in his chair, lifting his hands up in surrender. “Normally, we would go on a date first before I let myself get tied up.”

She scoffed, putting away her needle. “But you’re so pretty, won’t you just let me skip the date part and go right to the action?”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Is there anyone who doesn’t?”

“No, but it’s nice to hear it, anyway.”

Lyla shook her head at him, eyes flickering over to where Andrei sat, fiddling with his empty mug, seemingly lost in thought. “Andrei? What’s up?”

His brows furrowed together briefly before he offered her a smile, albeit a little forced. “Nothing… really. Just thinking about the dream.”

“What is it?”

He hesitated for a few moments, twirling the mug slightly. “There… was something familiar about both the speaker and the… well, the triumphant scream. I just — I don’t know why.”

Lyla’s lips pursed in thought. “Could it be someone you know?”

“Or even someone we all know,” Tajun added, lazily fiddling with the bunny’s enchantment to get her hopping around again.

Andrei shrugged helplessly. “Could be? I just can’t tell what it is…”

✦

“Andrei, I wanted to ask you something.”

The man paused in slinging on his bag, turning towards her with a smile. “Sure, what is it?”

Tajun had already left for the evening, and Andrei was on his way out, too. She figured there was no better time to ask him a question that had been weighing on her mind.

“The night of Aeternalis…” she started, quietly, hesitantly. “Who were you talking to — back then, on the roof?”

Andrei stared at her, mouth gaping open. “I… ah, no-one.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, watching as his eyes darted away nervously and he fiddled with his bag, forcing out a laugh.

“Are you suspicious of me? Ha… ha, ha. No one. Really.”

Lyla tried not to smile, Andrei really was always easy to crack under her accusatory glare. She crossed her arm, letting out a disappointed sigh and leaning against the door frame. Andrei’s eyes widened slightly and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Oh, Andrei,” she said with a sigh. “I thought we were close. You know you can’t fool me so why bother trying?”

“I’m… not trying to… fool you,” he muttered weakly. Lyla chuckled, reaching out to lightly punch his shoulder.

“I’m just messing with you, angel.” She cleared her throat, looking down at her feet for a moment to try and gather her thoughts. “But I do know you were talking to someone on the roof.” She looked up at him. “Was it Vivi?”

He was silent for a long moment, mouth opening and closing like he wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, he dipped his chin in an affirmative nod. “Yes, but before you ask, I don’t where or how she managed to appear in the Theatre.”

“Wow… how did that happen? Especially with everything that’s going on?” Lyla murmured, straightening up and crossing her arms over her chest.

“As far as I know,” Andrei said with a frown, “ and with what she told me, she didn’t get an invitation, somehow seemed to just appear.”

Lyla rubbed her forehead tiredly. “Gods, what on earth is happening around here?”

vi - Blurred Phantoms

✬ Week 3 - Summer: Summer Solstice Festival

The Borough of the Enlightened was the best place to go in search of information —or atleast that was what Lyla believed. And what place better to dig for information than the Library of Perandir?

With the Summer Solstice Festival coming up, the people of Khoyesa were out in the streets, filled with excitement and running about preparing for the event. The excitement in the air was almost infectious, but Lyla didn’t care much for it, and really, she could only blame the fake Aeternalis event for dampening her spirits. She was glad the library was quieter than she’d expected, it made concentrating all that much easier for her.

Browsing through the old newspaper reports, she searched for the reports from five years ago, before the fire. Anything pertaining to the Circus of Marvels, she grabbed a hold of, eager to see if there was anything that could help her figure out what was happening. Once she collected everything, she moved to sit over in a secluded spot, not that it was necessary seeing how the archival newspaper room was all but empty. Oh well.

She went through report after report, skimming through the news of the Circus and reading through the extensive and very gossipy coverage of the feud between Venezia and Rochelle, rumoured star-crossed lovers of Olledi and Ronan. The feud between Venezia and Rochelle was not news to her, but reading it again spiked her interest. There were also awful columns about the two, accusing them of all sorts of awful things.

Lyla’s brows furrowed together, her lips pursing in distaste as she read reporters accusing Rochelle of sleeping her way into the Circus, and of Venezia using enchantment magic to achieve success. There was no telling how true these accusations were, and she couldn’t exactly go and ask them, considering they were dead—

Lyla paused, looking up from the reports briefly. She had definitely seen them that night, and they had seemed perfectly alive. But again, she suspected illusion or magic was at play then… hmm, she’d have to dig further because if her memory served correctly, there had been coverage of the casualties on the day of the fire. An impish face flashed across her memory, making her hesitate for a moment. That’s right, she had to confirm another person’s death… or not death, too.

Going back to the task at hand, she continued to read through the news. Amongst the gossip columns were blurry photographs of what was allegedly Olledi and Ronan meeting in some weird back alley, and some other photos of Olledi dropping off something.

Lyla stared at the photographs.

“What are you two doing there?” she whispered to the blurry photograph. “Doesn’t seem suspicious at all.”

She lifted up the photo of Olledi dropping off something, pointing an accusatory finger at the photo. “And you? What’s that you’re carrying? Come now, don’t be shy.”

When the photographs remained stubbornly silent, she pushed them aside, pulling forward a different news paper where she finally found what she had been looking for — news of the fire. Glancing at the large, decidedly dusty clock hanging on the wall, Lyla almost couldn’t believe it had taken her a little over an hour to get through all the gossip just to reach news of the fire. But as she read through the reputable, extensive report, she straightened up, intrigued by the paper.

How had this not caught her attention before?

The report went that on the night of the dress rehearsal for the Aeternalis show, the Theatre had burnt to ground, claiming the lives of Venezia, Rochelle, Ronan, Olledi and Anette. There was no other reported death, which had to mean that Kelsahn’s impish helper, Vivi, must have survived somehow. But that was not all that got her attention.

According to the report, investigators discovered that the fire started on the stage before spreading to the rest of the theatre. But what was interesting was that the fire seemed to spread from the stage itself, seemingly climbing up the pillars. According to witnesses, it had spread on thin, wire-like lines and then gathered in the ceiling, causing the roof to collapse.

Lyla read through the article once, twice, three more times.

The stage was not ravaged by fire, but rather, that the fire spread out from the stage itself? And that it spread to the pillars and then on thin-wire like lines, lead to the ceiling, causing the roof collapse.

Well, she’d already wanted to check if Vivi was still around, but now this just gave her more reason to pay a visit to the ruined building.

✦

The door swung open to reveal Kelsahn in all his glory — well, all his slightly unkempt glory.

Lyla shook her head at him as he waved her in. “I thought this might happen so I brought you some happiness — food and coffee.” She lifted up the bags in question.

Kelsahn rubbed his chin, absently gazing at the bags. “I think…” Whatever he thought died on his lips as he trailed off with a sigh.

“You think what, Sanny?” she asked gently, placing the bags on the table and letting her sleeves ride up as she unpacked so that he’d get a nice good look at her budding flower mark. Kelsahn’s eyes widened as he lurched forward, staring down at the mark.

“I’m not crazy, after all.”

“You are,” she said, handing him the still warm mug, flicking off the enchantment so that he had access to the drink. “But you’ve not totally lost your marbles yet, Sanny. It happened.”

“The Aeternalis happened.”

“It was whole, and now it’s a big burnt ruin all over again,” she confirmed, taking out the food she’d made especially for him. She had long ago gotten into the habit of making a little extra food and bringing it to her work room back at the Theatre because like Lyla, Kelsahn had a habit of staying late nights. But unlike Lyla, he didn’t have much habit of feeding himself when he got too absorbed in his work. There wasn’t much she could make, and she wasn’t that great a cook but well, it fed people. Including the ones who ran errands for her, and the ones who came to bother her for no reason.

“Hm.” He sat at the table with his coffee, his eyes wandering, distant. Lyla observed him, hoping he was alright. She knew he had spent time with Ganz, mourning the death of Anette, so seeing her again must have been quite shock. Lyla reached over and squeezed his hand, trying to express what she couldn’t seem to find in words.

That brought him back and he looked down at her hand, offering it a pat before withdrawing his hand to lift the coffee to his lips. Her eyes fell on his mark.

“Andrei and Tajun have these ones on them too,” Lyla murmured, resting her chin in the palm of her hands. “I’m guessing we were all lured there just to get marked. And then that dream… what was it that went wrong? And just who was it behind all this?”

Kelsahn took another sip, a longer one this time, before putting his cup down to trace the flower pattern on his wrist. “There’s the faintest pin prick of magic.” He winced, pulling his finger away. “It feels like static skipping up my finger.”

“I’m glad I can’t feel that,” she murmured. A light suddenly entered his eyes as he contemplated his finger.

“Hm. There’s a theory I would like to test…” his sentence trailed off as he slipped back into his thoughts. She decided not to interrupt that, content to just sit in silence and stew in her own thoughts. Lyla waited for him to finished eating before she decided to fill him in on her discovery at the Library.

“Spreading up thin vertical lines?” Kelsahn repeated, startled, eyes wide. “The Pillars, too?”

Lyla nodded. “Do you know anything about that? You did say you worked on enchantments in the sets.”

He frowned, tilting his head to the side in thought. “I did —supposedly.”

“Supposedly?”

“No, I did,” he muttered, nodding to himself. “As far as I know, the enchantments were only in my sets, but the pillars along the stadium were untouched.” He paused before nodding again, frowning at her. “Yes, completely untouched.”

“Hm, that’s really strange.” Lyla leaned back in her seat, drumming her fingers against the tabletop.

“Yes, that… is.” Sanny’s eyes drew down to her drumming fingers and she stopped immediately, not meaning to distract him.

“I wonder if those lines are still there,” Lyla wondered aloud.

“I’ll see if I can go in and investigate,” Kelsahn decided. “This is making me very curious, though I don’t think I’ll go in at night.”

“Huh, why?” Lyla didn’t peg him for the uneasy type, especially considering all his late-nights back in the day.

He shrugged. “Something about that place really puts me off.”

vii - Glimpses of the Past

✬ Week 4 - Summer: Summer Solstice Festival

Lyla should have really been more creeped out than how she was feeling right now.

One would think that visiting an old burnt ruin, at night no less, where mysterious things were happening would be more scary, and perhaps it was, but Lyla chalked her lack of fear due to her being totally exhausted with the whole situation. The fake illusions, her feelings and hopes and dreams getting crushed then brought up again, and then getting crushed again really left her emotional state a mess. Now she was just angry and wanted to get to the bottom of this so that she could experience a peaceful life again.

And maybe this time, if she got out alive within the six-month mark, she’d try and go for a boutique that would actually accept her designs.

As she approached the building, she was in awe at how she couldn’t quite make out whether the building was still in ruins or if it was back in its illusionary restored version. It was dark enough for her to come up with an excuse for it, and she certainly could not see any blazing lights the way it had been on the night of the opening. Fake opening? Opening trap? Hm.

Lyla pushed at the gate, expecting it to be locked. Perhaps she could find another way—

Creak.

With a start, she realized the gates opened with ease and that they weren’t padlocked… How interesting. She glanced behind her at the deserted, silent street, and then turned back to her mission, stepping in.

As she stepped through, the air shimmered around her, flickering momentarily before she found herself standing inside the dimly lit Theatre, a feeling of bittersweet familiarity washing over her. This was exactly how the Theatre looked on all those days where there were no performances.

There was a lone janitor sweeping the front, but other that her, there was no one else.

“Good evening,” the janitor greeted as Lyla walked by, heading in the direction of the Stadium. Surprised, Lyla glanced over her shoulder, a half smile drawn onto her face.

“Evening.”

The janitor looked very much alive, but Lyla was almost certain it was another illusion, much like the ticket booth guy.

As she entered the Stadium, Lyla was not the least bit surprised to find it deserted. She walked down the aisle between the seats, heading straight to the main stage. As she moved, she ran her hand over the audience seats that were folded upright, testing to make sure this was as real as the vines had been that night.

For a second, Lyla saw dull red instead of the bright red upholstery, and when she drew her hand away, it was covered in soot and dust. Hm, interesting. Her eyes scanned the environment around her, where everything looked almost exactly as it had all those years ago. She looked down at her hand, brushing off the dust, and continuing on her way.

She reached the stage, her eyes immediately latching onto a bunch of abandoned sets, as though they were still in the process of being built.  The stage was strewn with hammers, paints, cloth — and though it had been 5 years, Lyla recognized many of the items lying about haphazardly. She remembered the night preparing for Aeternalis in this very spot, advising Kelsahn, or rather trying to advise him on what would fit best for the theme they were going for.

It was a startling feeling, like the illusions around her were all suspended in time.

She blinked, eyes going back to the abandoned objects as Kelsahn’s words suddenly rang through her head, of how he mentioned using magic and enchantment in his sets.

Lyla climbed up on stage, moving around to get a clearer look at the abandoned sets. However, as time went on while she observed and studied the sets, she started to realized something — the enchantment and magic wasn’t in the set. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she moved on stage, eyes boring onto the floor of the stage.

Now, she was no magician, nor did she have any magic, but the dark, scorched lines on the stage looked awfully like they were forming specific patterns… intersecting and — huh. Lyla tilted her head to the side to get a better look at what seemed to be symbols in circles around the place. What the hell?

She followed the circles across and realized there wasn’t just one, but two similarly patterned circles stretching across the stage. Lyla stopped in the middle of the stage, frowning down at the ground. She didn’t remember those circles or symbols being there last time…

Did this have something to do with the fire?

Lyla recalled the news report from the library, the one about how the fire seemed to be spreading from the stage itself. Eyes flickering down to trace the symbols on the floor, Lyla was positive it had something to do with the fire. But who would do such a thing… and why? It didn’t make any sense for—

A glint from the corner of her eye caught her attention and she glanced up to see — a gorgeously made sphere, looking much like a clockwork sun on its rotating orbit. She stared at it, jaw dropping in awe at the magnificence of it. She didn’t remember what exactly it was for and… hm? Lyla squinted up at it, suddenly noticing that it was glowing, casting a soft light over the stadium. What seemed to be magical mist swirled around the damn thing, making her frown.

Was this the centrepiece that Kelsahn had mentioned making for Anette? The one he’d said burnt down with the Theatre? As she stared at it, she wondered what would happen if she threw something at it. It was a big glowing thing, with magical mist surrounding it…

Searching her pockets for something she could use, she came away with a coin in hand. She gauged the distance between her at the beautiful clockwork sun and then drew her arm back for momentum before throwing the coin with all her might. Playing catch with Andrei’s little league kids really helped her with her aim, and she watched, half proud as the coin flew directly at the sun—

Her eyes widened and a gasp left her lips as she watched the coin get close, too close before it suddenly changed, dropped to the floor, now a colourless husk. Lyla sprinted over to it, bewildered, and as she bent down to pick it up, the coin crumbled to dust in her hand.

Her breath left her on a surprised huff.

“Well, that’s… curious.”

✦

Tajun had seemed mildly impressed as Lyla recounted her mini adventure at the Theatre’s Stadium the night before, but Andrei had not. They were at her apartment, seated on the floor in her living room after a pleasant dinner, backs against the couch as she sketched in her trusty sketchbook, trying to unwind and untangle her thoughts. Andrei had left a little while ago, after expressing his massive concerns of her visiting the Theatre late at night. It was less that he worried the magic would get her and more that there could be someone dangerous lurking in the shadows.

“Jun, you said you wanted to talk about the Theatre,” Lyla said patiently before lifting her eyes from the sketchbook to fix him with a stare. “Why have you just been lounging here and not saying anything?”

Tajun lazily lifted his head up to glance at her. “Because silence is quite nice.”

“I imagine silence would sound better in the comfort of your own home,” she muttered, though there was no heat to her words. Truthfully, she was thankful for his company, it calmed her slightly frayed nerves. Though, now that she though about it… Tajun was also one of the reason her nerves were all a mess.

Lyla sighed, there was just no winning at this point.

Tajun flashed her a winning smile. “Do you really want to send me home? Most would pay to be in my company.”

She snickered, going back to her sketch. “Not for your personality. Bet it would be just for your looks.”

Tajun chuckled, the sound coming out low and deep, sending a shiver down her spine.

“I’m starting to think you find me attractive.” He cocked his head to the side with a cute smile. “You know, you can just compliment me without playing hard to get.”

“Aha, and where’s the fun in that?”

“So you are playing hard to get,” he snickered, shuffling closer to her. “And here I thought I was misreading the signs.”

“You are, my dear Tajun. I think your feathers have gotten to your head.”

“Feathers?”

“Yes, my little peacock.”

“You keep referring to me as yours,” he pointed out with another smile. “Why, you’re making me blush these days, Lyla. Talks of wanting to tie me up, finding me attractive, calling me yours…”

“Somehow, you’re doing extremely well at not including context,” she said dryly, waving him away. “And also, you’re making it sound like you have your… hm, kinks.”

He laughed, leaning back against the couch and fixing her with an amused glance. “What can I say, I’m a very open person.”

“No, you’re not.” The words fell from her lips automatically, accompanied with a roll of her eyes. “You’re extravagant, sure. But I wouldn’t go as far as describe you as open.”

At his silence, she glanced up to find him simply observing her, cheek resting against his closed fist, elbow propped against the couch while his other hand reached out to play with the ends of her loose hair.

“And what about Andrei?” he asked with a small smile, and Lyla got the sense that he was masking again. She didn’t push it.

Thinking about Andrei, Lyla grinned. “He’s definitely an open book. He needs to be protected at all times. You know, sometimes I think that the world needs more people like him, where kindness and trust comes so naturally. But also, I don’t think the world deserves him.”

“The world does keep trying to scam him.” Tajun nodded, his hand becoming bolder, now stroking her hair with soft, gentle movements. She ignored the way her body was unknotting and relaxing itself, soothed by his ministrations. And she definitely ignored the fire slowly igniting deep within her core.

She went back to drawing, hoping he wouldn’t notice her fingers trembling ever so slightly.

“And Kelsahn?” he asked. “Open book or no?”

“Sanny is…” Lyla thought about it, tapping the butt of her pencil against her chin. “Unpredictable for the most part. But he’d tell you if you asked.” Her eyes flickered to Tajun and then away.

He laughed. “Are you implying I don’t?”

“Would you prefer I said it directly?” Lyla’s eyebrows lifted as she gave him her best dead-panned expression. “You don’t tell even when asked.”

His lips pulled into a secretive smile and her heart stuttered for a moment. After a moment of silence, he ran his hand higher up her hair, fingers brushing against her scalp. She couldn’t stop the jolt that zinged through her body. Flustered she pushed his hand away.

“You’re gonna mess up my hair.”

“I was untangling it.” His grin told her that he knew his touch was riling her up. She gave him a long-suffering sigh, refocusing on her sketch of a jacket design.

“What about you, Lyla?”

“Mm?”

“Are you an open book, too?”

Lyla snorted. “Far more than you are. I enjoy sharing my feelings and thoughts. Obviously.”

“Hah.”

She looked up, narrowing her eyes at him. “Hah?”

Tajun nodded, looking at her like she was something he could not believe existed. “Did you fall somewhere and hit your head? That would explain the delusion.”

She gaped up at him. “Well, that’s rude.”

He just rolled his eyes. “Bite me.”

“If I did, you wouldn’t like it,” she scoffed, reaching for the eraser that was right next to him. As she grabbed it, he shifted closer, causing her hand to brush up against his thigh. She flushed and nearly dropped the eraser.

“What if I did?”

Lyla blinked at him, amazed at his ability to keep entering her personal zone without her noticing and even worse, not minding it the slightest. Dumbly, she said, “What?”

“What if I did like it — you biting me?”

A weighted silence filled the air between them, slowly sucking the oxygen out of her lungs. Why couldn’t she look away from those eyes? She was such a damn sucker.

A nervous laugh bubbled out of her. “You get scared every time I bring up my needles. Teeth would hurt far more than those.”

“You sure about that, Lyla?” His lips twitched into a dangerous smile, his gaze lowering to her lips, down to her neck, and then slowly back up to her eyes. Her breath was stolen away by that gaze, and heat bubbled low in her belly, spreading out to the rest of her, and for the first time since they got reunited again, she suddenly didn’t feel shy anymore — no, she wanted to return the favour in full force. She gazed at him, wondering why he had this awful, magnetic effect on her. And briefly, she wondered if she have this kind effect on him too? Probably not.

After a few moments, she turned back to her drawing, breaking the spell and having now totally forgotten what it was she was working on. “Honestly, Tajun, you’re such a terror.”

He chuckled lowly, shifting about until his back was against the sofa, his shoulder brushing against hers. “You don’t seem very frightened.”

“Hard to be scared of someone who makes your eyes want to roll right out of your head.”

“Funny,” he said, dryly.

“Thank you, I do try.”

As a comfortable silence filled the air, broken only by the sounds of her pencil running across the paper, Lyla peered up at Tajun, finding the man leaning against the couch, cheek pressed into the cushion as he watched her draw from over her shoulder. She couldn’t stop her smile at the sight.

He was absolutely adorable, and he reminded her of their quiet moments all those years ago, when she would be working on her lavish sketches while he’d hang around, perfectly content with just watching her draw.

Prompted by her growing affection for him and a sudden urge to want to spend more time in his company,  Lyla decided she’d try and make a move. And see if it got reciprocated.

Frightened as she was at the idea that she might just be, to him, another woman fawning over him, she also had many regrets of how she’d left their situation all those years ago. It wouldn’t hurt to try… and fail, right? At least she would have tried this time around.

“Tajun… do you want to go to the Flower Show? With, ah, me?” she asked the question while steadily keeping her eyes on her sketching, not sure she wanted to be facing him if he turned down her offer.

As she waited for his answer, she suddenly wondered if she was being an idiot by potentially touching on a past between them that he may not want to rekindle. She opened her mouth to try and magically stuff the words back in, already chickening out.

He sounded mildly surprised. “I thought you didn’t like events like that?”

She turned then, miffed he would think that when she’d made it abundantly clear so many times in the past that she adored such events. “What are you talking about! You know I like those kind of—”

His eyes twinkled at her as he playfully bopped her nose. “I know.”

“Then why—”

“You should look at someone when you’re asking them out,” he said, climbing to his feet. “It’s the polite thing to do.”

“You said I’m rude, so I thought we’d already established that.” She put down her sketchbook as she also got up, escortin-g him to the door like the not-rude host that she was. She  replayed his words in her head, suddenly realising what he’d said. In a panic, she gave him a strained smile, all too aware that her face was hot. “Are you unwell? Do I look like I would ask you out on a date? It’s for an investigation.”

Gods, she should sew her own mouth shut. Why was she like this!

He stared at her for a moment and then burst out in laughter. “It’s been a long time, but you really haven’t changed all that much. All right then, Miss Investigator, I’ll come pick you up. I only hope nothing dangerous jumps out at us from all those beds of flowers.”

“Tajun,” she warned.

He faked a gasp as he feigned remembering something, stumbling backwards, clutching at his chest oh so dramatically. “Gods, we may have to take our job seriously! There could indeed be something dangerous — you’re onto something, Miss Investigator.”

Lyla was sure her face resembled a tomato, but she calmly reached into her pocked for her little tin box. “And what is that exactly, Jun?”

“We have to be on high alert at all times, and be absolutely cautious of these highly suspicious things…” he leaned forward, beckoning for her to do the same. She obliged, shivering as his breath warm against her ear, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back, the heat of his hand sending another zing through her. It took all she had not to slide her body against his, to feel him on her.

His lips brushed her ear. “Bees.”

Lyla whipped open her box, yanking out the biggest needle she had. “Tajun, I swear—”

He dropped a peck on her cheek and then winked, easily manoeuvring out of her reach. “I’ll see you then, Miss Investigator.”

“You…!” Lyla stared after him as he strolled away, her mouth agape in shock. What the… that man…

What a flirt!

✦

“Sanny!” Lyla called out as she closed the door behind her.

“Yeah!” His voice rang in from the direction of his home studio so she picked her way down the hall and into the room, careful not to bump into any of his tools or incomplete projects lying around. She found Kelsahn sketching out something at his desk, brows furrowed low over his eyes as he concentrated on his task.

She walked over to him, once again very carefully making her way over and trying not to touch anything. Who knew what kind of incomplete enchantment he had on those projects? Peering over his shoulder, her eyes widened as she realized that he was sketching out certain diagrams, like he was re-visiting the Risskov Theatre.

“What’s this?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Trying to think,” he replied, sounding half tired and half distracted. She gazed down quietly over his shoulder as he continued to sketch, the diagrams bringing forward the memory of the building on fire in her dream.

The fire and the waif-like figure, warning her of the mark and the short time frame they had left. The figure’s words rang through her mind; They’re fixing what they started. They got it wrong.

Now all Lyla and the others had to do was figure out who got it wrong, what it was they were trying to achieve, and how to stop it. Yeah, definitely a piece of cake.

Month 2

viii - Whispers of Binds

✬ Month 2 - Week 5 - Summer: The Flower Show

TBA SHORTLY

ix - Mesmerising Apparitions

✬ Month 2 - Week 6 - Summer: The Flower Show

Lyla was not the least bit surprised when she returned to the Theatre and it was exactly as how it had been a few nights ago, when she’d visited the Stadium.

The lights were dimmed, and the space looked as it had 5 years ago —untouched by fire. As she strolled through the hallway, her eyes kept wandering over the walls, the floors, and the ceiling, taking in all the sights of the place she’d once adored. Her footsteps echoed down the empty hall as she walked, and she noticed that the echoing sounds got eerily louder the closer she got to her destination.

That was not the only thing that changed. She watched her environment  as she went down to the lower floor of the Theatre, where one of the two concert halls were located, built for its acoustics. All around her, the beautifully brightly lit foyer grew more and more distant, and the dimly lit corridor began to flicker. To change.

She moved a little slower as she neared the concert hall, almost as though she were trying to test what was happening. The image around her flickered, like the illusion was not holding up properly. Hm, interesting.

Reaching the door of the concert hall, Lyla pushed it open — and the air shimmered once more before throwing her into a near pitch-black space, lit only by the moonlight shattering in through a massive hole in the ceiling.

She blinked up at the hole. Huh, apparently the illusion magic did not go as far as to cover this space. Was it because it was further away from the Stadium?  Lyla recalled the glyphs and circles she had seen that night, wondering if that had something to do with this. Even if she were wrong, she was sure that the glyphs had some part of this whole thing.

Stepping forward, closer to where the stage was, Lyla became keenly aware that there was no one here and it carried an air that felt almost eerily lonely. That could also be due to the fact that now she was walking in the actual ruins of the Theatre and not the illusion-version. She hadn’t expected this to happen so she didn’t bring a torch with her and now here she was, fumbling about in the dark and hoping she didn’t accidentally step on a stray nail or something. Her foot touched what seemed to be… a fallen wooden beam. Nice, she almost stabbed her own foot.

With only the moonlight to help her vision, she could just about make out charred, sooty sections and more fallen ceiling beams. There were too many spots that were totally swallowed up by darkness and Lyla almost wanted to laugh. This was probably an absolutely terrible idea and Andrei was right. Why would she do this to herself?

Still, she found herself steadily making her way to the stage when she stopped, hearing… singing? Was someone singing? She tilted her head to the side and listened. It sounded like someone was trying to practice their arpeggios, much like how Venezia and Rochelle would sometimes do before a performance.

Her head turned in the direction of the half burnt curtain blowing in the breeze and she stepped quietly towards it, half-afraid but needing to know, and pulled back the curtain to see — Venezia.

She stared, eyes going wide, her blood running cold.

It was Venezia Hayward, or rather, the form of her, faint, ghostly and ethereal. Her back was to Lyla as she practised her singing, dressed in a dressing robe, and as she sang, the air around her moved hazily, like a heatwave. Venezia didn’t seem to notice Lyla entirely but as Lyla listened to her sing, there was something mesmerising —beautiful even, drawing her in. It was nearly hypnotic enough—

“Ow!” Lyla yelped as something sharp dug into her shoulder, making her wince. Snapping out of her reverie, she turned her head and saw a pair of familiar, freakishly sentient yellow eyes staring at her.

Huh? Why does this thing seem so…. Familiar? Who…

Something else registered in her head — silence. Whipping around, Lyla let out a huff of breath.

Venezia was gone, with only faint wisps of smoke in the air where she’d been.

✦

TBA SHORTLY

x - Incomplete Conclusions

✬ Month 2 - Weeks 7-8 - Summer: Peace and quiet (at last!)

“I thought you stopped making your own designs after you started working at the boutique?” Andrei lifted his arms and stood patiently as Lyla moved around him.

“Well, I did,” she murmured, pinning the fabrics together and then stepping back to get a good look at her creation. It was still quite ugly but at least she finally started something again. Her live model, Andrei, stood patiently, waiting for her to circle him slowly, eyeing the fit and pinning in where it was coming loose.

“You stopped making your own clothes?” Tajun’s vice came from behind her, on the couch where he sat, legs lazily sprawled out. He looked good in what he was wearing today — a well-fitted button shirt, not too tight but not loose enough to make him look like a square. The first button was undone when he arrived but when Lyla glanced at him, she noticed that he’d unbuttoned the second one too, his tattoos just peeking through. Wow…

She quickly looked away when she noticed him watching her, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“My designs weren’t really made for local boutiques,” she said, clearing her throat when she realised how high-pitched it came out. “But, well, I’ve been inspired to try again.”

“That’s good. I suppose that—”

“Andrei, can you lift your arm here —yes, just like that, slowly, slowly,” Lyla helped guide his arm, making sure none of the pins would slip out and accidentally stab the poor man. Andrei was one of her favourite models to work with —he wasn’t fussy, or fidgety, and he rarely complained. She always finished work with him the fastest. “Sorry, what were you saying, Jun?”

“I lost my train of thought.”

“Ah, okay.” Leaning in to get closer to where the wrist of the jacket would be, she pulled out a piece of chalk and marked where the stitches had to go in. Then she repeated the motion on the other hand before moving back, tilting her head as she took a good look at her work.

“Hm, you look great, Andrei.”

The blonde man beamed at her, his smile practically melting her heart. “Thank you!”

She couldn’t help smiling back at him before turning around to pick up the sketchbook she’d abandoned on the couch. Tajun’s eyes flickered to her and then to Andrei and then back.

“But the jacket’s not even done,” he protested. “He’s standing in a deathly trap of needles, one wrong move and that’s it for his nerves.”

“Tajun!” Lyla berated, glancing down at her design to see what her next move should be.

“Huh?” Andrei’s eyes widened and his face paled. He eyed himself warily. “Needles…”

“Andrei, honey, don’t listen to Jun,” Lyla said, lightly swatting at a proud Tajun before going up to Andrei and smoothing out the front of the jacket, eyeing where the lapels were to go. “You’ve been dressed by me before, have I ever hurt you?”

“No,” Andrei said, looking relieved.

“Yes,” Tajun’s voice called out from behind. “You’ve stabbed me plenty of times.”

“Well maybe if you didn’t move every 4 seconds — Ah, careful Andrei, slow movements.” She picked up the chalk and marked out lapels and what type of stitch she’d need for it. There was a detailing she wanted to add to the sleeve so she gently lifted up Andrei’s hand, holding his palm and started marking out what she wanted. Soft music played from her record player as she worked, and absently, she started to hum along.

A good half an hour later, she decided to free Andrei from his modelling duties, pleased to have accomplished most of her design goals for the day. As she helped him out of the jacket, she smiled up at him.

“You’re my best model, Andrei. My absolute favourite.”

Andrei blushed adorably, dipping his head in a short bow. “Thank you.”

A scoff sounded from behind her. “Biased.”

“Nope, simply the truth,” she said, successfully peeling the cloth off of him and placing it carefully on the mannequin. “And this shade of blue really does look good on you.” She picked up a spare fabric from the same cloth and pressed it against Andrei’s skin, nodding appreciatively. “Your skin has a cool undertone so it makes the blue look even more striking.” She really should have given him more blue outfits back at the Circus…

Another hour later, and then it was just her and Tajun alone again, the sound of her pencil against the sketchbook the only sound filling the air. This time, he came to sit at the table she was at. Her eyes flickered up towards him and a laugh bubbled out of her.

“A third button undone?”

He grinned, completely unabashed. “Trying to give you inspiration.”

“Inspiration for more buttons, you mean?” Playing it off was the only way she knew how to keep her cool. Her traitorous eyes kept going back to the chest that was exposed by his unbuttoned shirt. She knew he was tattooed and she had seen most of, if not all, of his tattoos. But that was five years ago…

“Do you have new ones?”

“Hm?” Tajun’s head cocked to the side. “New what?”

Her eyes widened in horror. No. No, she did not just ask him that. “Nothing, sorry, I was—”

“If you mean tattoos…” Tajun leaned in, holding her gaze with something skin to mischief sparkling in his eyes. “What don’t you come and see for yourself?”

“No, I think I’m fine.” She flushed, abruptly getting up with a forced laugh. “You’re such a damn terror, Tajun!”

Before she could whirl away and hide in her room, a warm hand clasped around her wrist, effectively stopping her. His thumb brushed against her wrist, causing heart to thud heavily in her chest, and heat like molten lava to course slowly through her. Gods, this man was truly a terror.

“Lyla.” The words came out soft, gentle, but there was something deeply intimate in the way he said her name. It sent shivers down her spine.

She shut her eyes briefly as Tajun gently pulled her towards him, maneuvering her so that her butt pressed against the table. Her head filled up with all kinds of racy thoughts as her leg brushed against his thigh. She tried to laugh but the only sound that escaped her was a sigh.

Opening her eyes, she found Tajun looking up at her, his eyes so warm, so deep, she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and brushing the back of her fingers against his cheek. Her skin tingled where she’d touched him and an overwhelming urge to touch him some more made her weak in the knees. So, she distracted herself by brushing off non-existent lint off his very broad shoulders.

“This is a kidnapping,” she murmured. “And an invasion of my personal space.”

“Mhm.” His eyes trailed from her eyes, down to her lips, and then back up. “I’ve yet to be stabbed.”

“Do you really want to be pushing it?”

He just smiled, leaning forward and placing his arms on either side of her on the table. Her body tightened and wild excitement shot through her.

“Go ahead, then,” he practically purred, his chin tipped upwards towards her. “Stab me with your many needles.”

She couldn’t say anything back, completely struck stupid as she gazed down at him. He seemed to know his effect on her and his smiled broadened. His fingers caught the back of her shirt, toying with the laced ribbon at the bottom.

“I thought you wanted to see them?”

She swallowed, unable to look away, yet somehow also unable to keep his stare. “See… what?”

“My tattoos. Don’t you want to see them?”

“I do… but maybe… maybe not today,” she whispered. She didn’t think she could handle a shirtless Tajun with the current state she was in. His smiled never wavered.

“Alright, then, next time, let me be your model.”

She took a few seconds to process what he said and then she chuckled. “Is this so you have an excuse to get shirtless?”

“I get paid to be shirtless,” he reminded her. “At my shows.”

Like an ice bucket was thrown over her, Lyla’s brain came awake, forcing back all her other reactions. Right, the shows he hadn’t invited her to. Actually, now that she thought about it, Tajun never really… invited her to anything since they reunited. Not to events, or walks, or to his home… or even his shows. Was he just playing along to whatever this was? What was he doing, did he even want to be with her?

Oh Gods, what the hell was she thinking? ‘Be with her’? She was clearly way in over her head.

“Lyla,” Tajun’s voice came out low, quiet, his hand gently clasping her chin, making her look at him. “Where did you go?”

“Hm, what? Nowhere.” She cleared her throat, lightly swatting his hold off of her. “It’s getting late. Thank you for helping me clean up.”

What did she think was going to happen? She was the only one flustered, and feeling like this. Her heart clenched painfully and dread washed through her, chasing away all the warmth from earlier. Was it going to be like how it was five years ago? She would come onto him and he’d just… let her?

“Lyla.”

Hurt prickled through her, along with humiliation and misery. Gods, what was she even doing?

“You should go before—hey!”

Tajun grabbed her face, gently but inexorably forcing her to still and face him head on. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, Lyla, stop it.”

“What if I’m thinking about stabbing you? Get off of me.”

He released her but latched onto her wrist, still preventing her escape. “Don’t run away.”

“I’m running to get my needles.”

“Lyla,” he sighed. “Just… don’t do whatever it is running though your head.”

“And what’s running through my head?” she asked, her tone coming out a little too sharp. He just gazed at her, his eyes still so warm, unfazed. She winced, hating that look, it made her feel like he could see right through her.

“I don’t know, but I can probably guess.” He brushed his free hand over her cheek, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. “Don’t go jumping to conclusions on your own, Lyla.”

She stared at him as he picked up his jacket and re-buttoned his shirt up. Giving her a crooked smile and wink, he shrugged on his jacket.

“I meant what I said earlier — about using me as your model next time. I’ll be good, I promise.”   

With that, he walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind him. Lyla stared at the closed door, feeling like absolute shit as she dropped her face into her hands. She really needed to get herself together.

She really was only good at running away and making assumptions. Didn’t she just promise herself that she wouldn’t do that anymore?

✦

Round Status:

Round 1: Done   |   Round 2: In Progress

Last edited by MistyMisty (26/11/2022 at 12:37)

Name: Beatrix Seagrave

The Dancer: traits updated, she feels more flashed out now

Face claim: Malika El Maslouhi (thanks to Cajsa)
Age: 28 (or so)
Role: The Dancer

Traits: Indulgent, yet self-disciplined when it comes to dancing. Arrogant. Distrusting by nature. Self-destructive, to some extent, unaware of that. Self-reliant. Realistic, at the core. Open-minded & eager to explore. Quick-witted. Charming. Egocentric.

Personality & Biography:
Once you get to know Bee, you might pick up on the fact she normally presents herself as a dancer since it’s one of the rare things in both her history and her present that she can claim with certainty. Beatrix Seagrave was born around 28 years ago and that is the extent to which she is familiar with that portion of her life. She might have had another name before, but Beatrix Seagrave was “born” when she was three years old and she was found on a shipwreck coming from god-knows-where, heading towards Khivalon Empire. Ideally, you do not name a child who has just lost a parent or two by throwing some very random and very on-the-nose things into their personal information, but there she was. Beatrix, after the only name she repeated, and Seagrave after the fact the rest of her family possibly ended there.

Beatrix turned out to be a good guess: she would buzz around like a bee, quickly, very cleverly, and never without a purpose, which ended up being dance. Ballet talent is hardly ever missed in Khoyesa, and combined with her self-disciplined approach to what she recognized to be her ticket out of the streets…it was a good mix. Her passion became an obsession, then became her source of income and likely the only steady, secure, reliant thing in her life. She never did have much faith in humanity, things would usually come with strings attached to them, and both men and women would demand things she was not willing to give easily. Relationships, for her, most days, were transactional, and she became quite good at those. Observant by nature, and rarely invited to the table (at least in her formative years), Beatrix is a very mindful girl and she had a nose for picking who to observe. She is quick to pick up on clues, she’s witty and well-read, she can be extremely persuasive and charming when she feels like it, and when it comes to reaching her goals to be included in a ballet troupe…she really felt like it. She was in, she was getting good reviews, she was doing her best to climb the ladders - both on and off the stage - and she managed to build a lot of her identity, her reality on a house of cards and growing ego.

A pretty face, gorgeous body, mind that is not to be dismissed and a list of issues that fall in line with the (lack of) upbringing really made her indulge in all the things she could now afford. You might see her in practice and think the girl was an absolute peek of conditioning, but should you encounter her at the dim-lit alleys, entering meeting places meant for those with questionable morals, you’d change your mind. Our girl can toss a drink, drive a hard bargain, loves to gamble from time to time, visit some burlesque shows and really does not mind the carnal pleasures. The remains of her life before the stage allow her to keep anonymous, walk in the shadows, cast a spell or two when a need occurs, and show up to appointments on time. Life is good, off the stage, and on it, things seemed to have become more volatile than one might imagine. Building on shaky grounds does that.

A jealous prima ballerina is never good news, but in combination with a girl who is well-versed in pushing buttons, provoking reactions and has a sense of timing (off and on the stage), it was fuel to fire. The whole thing went up in flames and everything went down quicker than she fell off the stage. The injury was horrible both physically and mentally, the breaking of the troupe was worse, and she was - once again - on her own. The healing - physical, at least - came at a much higher pace as she was determined to get herself up again and before she was back on the stage, she met Ganz who asked her to join the troupe of the Circus of Marvels. Still in pain, she pushed through the challenges with the determination one might credit to some family trait, and she would only credit to the promise she gave to herself: no going back to not being able to afford to live fully. At first, it felt like the kind of gig she was destined to have, and slowly (but steadily) the people grew on her - while it might have taken a while, it did happen: Beatrix actually started to like the majority of them, getting close to some and even considered some of them her friends. What she didn’t see coming was the fire, the death. The family dismantled, but she managed to keep the momentum she had while the Circus was running smoothly and get a good gig afterwards.

Trivia
Beatrix loves to cook and experiment with flavours. Her favourite drink is Salty Dog, she adores soup and any hazelnut dessert. She spends way too much money on jewellery (anything in gold is a win). Beatrix is exceptionally comfortable with nudity. She's a huge flirt but usually doesn't stay interested in people for long enough.

Connections:
Reeva, the two kept a close bond during their time with the Circus and kept their friendship alive since. Beatrix is the most honest with her, and the woman might be closest to what she would call family.
Ganz, the person who approached Beatrix when she was down on her luck and recovering after what she calls the great fall. She appreciated the chance he provided and his general talent for tracking down talent. They formed a bond, friendship if you will, and both have kept in touch since, which she absolutely adores.
Ronan was a colleague turned occasional lover who was on his way to becoming something a bit more when the fire happened and he was declared missing. Beatrix shed her fair share of tears, then moved on.
Nemal quickly became her go-to person in the moments when she felt like things got stale, to toss a drink back, to go away for a night, to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. With his travelling and her tempo, they meet occasionally and it's usually as if no time has passed.
Moren & Cyprien, she knows of both, most likely met both, or was at the same place, but that's the extent.

Current status: dances as a prima ballerina at The Aurum Belles, a smaller dance company, specialising in contemporary forms and stage performances. Based in the Borough of the Welcoming, they revel in their clandestine, occasionally speakeasy-esque dance theatre. Rumour has it they have particular nights where only those who know “the passcode” can enter and join - and that those participants have a certain piece of jewellery to match.

Interests: Cyprien. Moren. Ronan.
Attending:
Investigating: St. Danserd Institute. Concert Hall 2. Box seats.

Last edited by Zaralee (21/11/2022 at 11:11)

Let me introduce myself...

Name: Morgan Elise Cromwell

Face claim: Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey

Age: 36

Role: The Patron

Traits: Ambitious. Charismatic. Flirty. Independent. Intelligent / Arrogant. Blunt. Impulsive. Stubborn. Vain. 

Personality:
Despite seeming like Morgan has achieved it all - wealth and fame among other things - she will always strive for more... knowing exactly what she wants in life and isn't afraid of using unethical methods to reach her goals. Never been afraid to speak her mind or to point out mistakes by others, it has been too long since she last truly cared if her words might hurt others or if she offended someone. Definitely, an ‘act now and think later person’ which has gotten her into trouble a few times... but nothing that couldn't have been fixed with a charming smile or a compliment... Morgan often jokes that they are her best weapon. The woman likes to be in control over everything, likes having the last word in every argument, and admits that she did something wrong never happens... and she doesn't take too kindly to others pointing out what she did wrong. Morgan loves to socialize, connect with other people, flirt and has one-night stands and brief relationships, but it doesn't seem like she is interested in more. She likes to be the center of attention and yet also knows when to take a step back and let others enjoy the spotlight for a few moments.

Biography

The only child of Adrian Burke, a fruitless and luckless artist, and Iris Aurelia Cromwell, runaway heiress of the Cromwell Media Empire. It seemed that Morgan was destined for a normal life with loving parents spending her days in a small cottage with a garden full of flowers and laughter echoing through the house. But life took a drastic turn when Adrian and Iris died in a car accident when the girl was barely four years old. Too young to understand what was happening and not given any time to cope with the new situation, Morgan was sent into the custody of her maternal grandmother Flavia.

The older woman might have been a loving and warm person once… but that was before the death of her husband 15 years ago… and before losing her only daughter. Flavia had never quite liked Adrian and in secret, she was blaming him for Iris’ death… work, hosting various parties, throwing money out of the window, and unfortunately, alcohol seemed to be her only joy these days. Morgan was promptly put into the care of various nannies and maids after her arrival and hardly got to see her grandmother during the first few months.

It didn’t get better as she grew older and expensive gifts seemed to be the only sign of affection Flavia was capable of showing towards her granddaughter… though both of them knew that they were nothing but a simple excuse to make up for the lack of time… and the interest in Morgan’s well-being. It didn’t take her long to start using the gifts to her advantage demanding them to be more expensive instead of admitting that she would have preferred to spend time with her grandmother… to find out if there wasn’t anything they did have in common.

If Morgan wasn’t the one who was constantly pushing herself… trying to be on top of her classes and trying to prove that she was more than just another rich heiress, it was Flavia who voiced her demands and her constant reminders that Morgan was a Cromwell and the one person who would take over the family business one day… and all the wealth that came with it. Morgan was still in the middle of her studies when Flavia passed away… years of stress and her drinking problems had finally caught up with her. Overnight Morgan not only found herself as the head of the family business but also as the last living Cromwell… it wasn’t long before she realized that Flavia had been living beyond her means and the family fortune had been gone for years.

Thrown into a new situation, Morgan had no choice but to sell the Media company and some of the few mansions that she still called her own and then start over new… using some connections she had made during her time at university, her wits and her charms she started investing into various small companies while collecting and selling rare arts. It was a tedious process with some setbacks, but she never gave up… along the way she started sponsoring various artists and performers. Over the years Morgan grew into her new role… she plays it with pride, and always has the will to give her best, and to prove to others of her capabilities.

Connections

Anette Eifagem: Morgan made her acquaintance after she visited the Circus for the first time… it seems almost like a lifetime ago at this point. She had been instantly impressed by Anette’s passion and her ongoing hard work to make the Circus even better… Morgan always appreciated people who kept striving for more. Their talks never ventured too deep into any personal matters as Anette was concerned with her Circus and Morgan was primarily interested in the well-being of the performer… and that she hadn’t made any mistake by putting her trust and her money into them. The destruction of the Circus and that Anette had been claimed as a victim of the flames had hit Morgan quite hard. 

Cyprien Ledrau: When Morgan met him for the first time, she only had heard other people speaking about him and all the achievements he had reached in his life… their talk had been brief and she had been far from the successful self-made billionaire she is now. They had only exchanged a few pleasantries but she hadn’t forgotten his charming nature when Morgan saw Cyprien for the second time at the Circus one night. She didn’t know if he still remembered her – not that it truly mattered – and it was good to reconnect with him and exchange some flirty and charming smiles. After the tragedy, Morgan ran into Cyprien a few times at events or galas… neither of them mentioned the fire once though.

Venezia Hayward: Almost everyone had heard about the famous singer at about one point and Morgan was no exception but it wasn’t until she started visiting the Circus that she finally got her chance to see Venezia perform… it is without a doubt an evening that Morgan isn’t going to forget anytime soon. Their interactions had been brief since she wasn’t the only one who wanted to be in Venezia’s company if only for a few seconds. It had been quite the disaster that Venezia apparently perished in the flames too.

Ganz Coldwell: Morgan met him the same night as Anette… the tunes his orchestra had been playing still echoed through her mind and a charming smile on her lips as she told him that she had never heard such a lovely tune before. The fact that he was the complete opposite of Anette wasn’t too hard to notice but he had the same protectiveness and love for the Circus shining in his eyes as Morgan spoke with him. It quickly became a habit to seek him out after watching the Circus performance and to compliment his newest musical creation. Even after the Circus burned down she had stopped by to see Ganz and his new orchestra play… catching up with him if the moment allowed it.

Moren Lockwood: Before she started sponsoring one of the Circus’ performers, Morgan never indulged herself with critics… that was before she met Moren Lockwood and before she realized how powerful his written words could be. Though it seemed that she had worried for nothing… his words while not always the nicest, Moren was never too harsh in his judgment… and neither was he when she talked with him now and then. The last time Morgan spoke with him was a few months after the Circus burned down and while she never told him, she believes that his final words were the best she had ever read.

Trivia:
• Over the years Morgan has acquired quite the art collection including all the paintings done by her father… she wouldn’t sell them for all the money in the world

• If Morgan isn’t attendings parties or galas she likes to spend her evenings with a glass of red wine, a box of dark chocolate, and a good book

• She would love to travel and see more of what the world had to offer but a tight schedule and her many ongoing businesses are holding her back

• She has mastered the art of fake smiling after spending too much company with people who would either bore her to death or just didn’t know when to stop talking

• Morgan has a few principles in life such as Don’t get drunk/embarrass yourself in front of important people, If it is truly important, do it now and not later and Try not to mix business with pleasure.… the last one already got broken by her a few times.

Interests: Ganz, Venezia & Cyprien

Attending: Sommer Solstice Festival; going with Ganz

Places to Investigate: Maidentear Park, Gazebo & Audience Stands

Act II

Month 1

I.

Dream + Aftermath

II.

Summer Solstice with Ganz

III.

Something with Cyprien

Month 2

IV.

Maidentear Park + bit more of Ganz

V.

Risskov Theatre... Audience Stands

VI.

Return to Risskov Theatre... Gazebo before running into Venezia

Last edited by schoggettchen (23/11/2022 at 23:34)

Still here and will start catching up. My apologies for the slowness.

Hello!

Just a quick note that EmmyAna has kindly approved my request for an extension, so Round 2 now ends 23 November 2022 at 15:00 GMT.

Happy sleuthing!!

It’s in the start of the third month that the effects of this “binding” begin to show, but it’s alarming all the same: some evenings, when you open your eyes, you’re not in your home. You’re in the Theatre, preparing for a show of some sort, and all around you are the people you know - knew - worked with, lived with for a good long while.When you reach out, brush your hand against their shoulder to catch their attention, they do not react. It’s as if you aren’t there.

Then the gong goes - the loud crash of cymbals that signals the start of the performance, as you knew so, so long ago. The other people snap around, and their faces are frozen in a rictus smile: beautiful, perfect, eternally paused in that moment. And then in the very distance, you hear a voice - almost like Anette’s, except there’s a desperation you’ve never heard before: “Where is she, unless she comes back I’ll never be able to - I don’t want to have to - No, I can’t allow that to happen, I - must - live.”

You never stay in that space long enough to hear that tail end of the conversation, but the vehemence, the fury stays with you even, ringing in your ears. You wake up, not very well-rested, and the flower mark on your wrist has begun to grow - spread. Its petals have, very gradually, begun to unfurl, peeking a faint purple in colour, almost bleeding red. It’s almost beautiful, if not for what you know right here, right now - or rather, what you suspect.

The third month means the dreams get more frequent. By the fourth, in some lights, you catch yourself looking almost translucent - but when you look up, stare at the mirror, you’re there - whole and hale and alive. Still wandering around the city, going about your business of your own free will. But in the fourth month, you dream again. In the still of the night, you can hear a soft, almost scared voice murmur, “Tick tock. She needs to make up her mind.” Nothing more, nothing less. Then the vision clears, and you can see the Theatre grow brighter  - more windows lighting up. You think if you went back, you might find new places to explore.

Of course, given Khoyesa and the rather personal side of the predicament, not many seem to notice. Autumn, after all, is the season of harvest, and the Khoyesans do know how to celebrate the season - with as much gusto and cheer and a little bit of supernatural superstition for fun. Because everyone knows during autumn, the gates to the underworld are thrown open and… that sort of superstition. Not that anyone minds, because everyone knows the magical academies throw open all sorts of odd portals and gates all the time. As before - attend or skip, whichever takes your fancy.

Two events take place, during this time: firstly, the Dance of the Lanterns, an odd sort of tradition unique to this part of the Khivalon Empire. Paper lanterns are hung from every door at night, with night markets set up: people peddling their wares, and making wishes on small, glowing baubles to be set free into the night sky. Then comes the Harvestide, the week-long celebration of the end of harvest - and to play mischievous tricks on others. Or take a walk through the many, many so-called “haunted houses” that are a new fad in Khoyesa.

*****************Timeline Reference:
✬ Month 3 - Weeks 9-10 - Autumn: Peace and quiet - before the festivities
✬ Month 3 - Weeks 11-12 - Autumn: Dance of the Lanterns
✬ Month 4 - Weeks 13-14 - Autumn: The Dream - and the Theatre
✬ Month 4 - Weeks 15-16 - Autumn: Harvestide Celebrations

Round Requirements:
Name:
Age:
Role:
Going to the Dance of the Lanterns and/or the Harvestide Festival?: Yes (if yes, which one(s))/No
Interests: Minimum 2, if you choose not to attend any events; maximum 4 if you choose to attend both the Dance of the Lanterns and Harvestide Celebrations
Places to Investigate: Minimum 2, if you choose to attend both events; maximum 4 if you choose not to attend any
Outfit: (One minimum for whichever event you want to use in your story. Others you can add as you wish!)
Story:

As always, feel free to bug me, ask me questions, or ask me for clarifications. At the end of the day, the goal is for you - you, not the character - to fully understand what is going on. And if you’re struggling with bits of the story, again, do let me know!

Last edited by Jadis (23/11/2022 at 16:33)

Note: as the contest progresses, more and more locations will be posted for you to choose from. For now: feel free to pick from the ones below. If you want more information about the city proper, I put together a little something. Feel free to ask me about anything on here as well!

*UPDATED* - Accessible locations

Ticketing
Located in a small building off to the side of the Theatre. When there were no shows, perhaps one of the two areas that could be accessed by the public - the other being the cafe near the gazebo.

Gazebo
The charming little wooden structure built outside of the Theatre, found nestled among the garden and wooded pathways of the Theatre. It seems romantic enough for a little bit of rendezvous shenanigans, right up until the saner, cooler minds realise the gazebo is smack in the middle of a large pathway that several people tromp up and down from.

*NEW!* - Restaurant
An all-day dining spot on the ground floor of the Theatre, with a place for al fresco dining leading outside, and a main dining floor and a balcony. Boasting art-deco style interiors, marble floors, and wooden accents, it has spectacular floor-to-ceiling windows letting people see the carefully manicured gardens outside. During the day, only the ground floor was open for lunch and afternoon tea service; during the evening, both floors were open. A busy and favoured gathering spot for businessmen, merchants, and the wealthy.

Audience Stands
Where the usual audience sits. The ringside seats, as usual, go for the highest number, while the further away, the cheaper the tickets. It’s always been packed with nary an empty seat - and some have even scratched their initials (badly) on the wooden panelling.

Box Seats
The VIP box seats, facing the front of the stage. Very limited in number - on three different layers, a total of eight per layer. There were four reserved for exclusive patrons only, the remaining 8 were rented out at a high cost. The next expensive seats were ringside, and then prices drop off from there. The central two are exclusive - and one is frequented exclusively by Cyprien Ledrau.

Stadium
The circus arena. Large central stage, with audience stands going up on three sides. Evokes the “big top”, but has discreet “boxes” levitating on both sides of the Stadium. When not in use, the big “pillars” are blank - but can be enchanted and reconfigured to be part of the set and stage design.

Concert Hall 1
More of a classical setting, suited for a solo vocalist or a small band of performers. Meant to be more intimate - can be magically configured into having “dinner tables”, but for most part they’re for the audience. Often used by Venezia Hayward or by small, up-and-coming musicians

Concert Hall 2
Looks closer to a jazzier, speakeasy, cabaret-type venue - often rowdy and raucous, as the performer plays her show with her own back-up crew. Features its own cocktail bar. Usually used by Rochelle Ohlsen, although Kialmirn has been known to pop into the place and use it for his own performances.

*NEW!* Accessible locations

Venezia’s Dressing Room
Venezia’s private dressing room, luxuriously adorned with upholstery, decorative trim, and gilded ceiling lights. She has been known to share its with Olledi on occasion, though those situations are rare and few in between. It seems to be covered head to toe with all sorts of posters, all featuring Venezia in her past shows, together with a large map with little flags dotting through the locations. There are also several books stacked in a shelf, seemingly dusty and abandoned.

Rochelle’s Dressing Room
Rochelle’s private dressing room, likewise beautifully adorned - but in a very different style. Hers is near minimalist, emphasizing golden geometric patterns on the wall, floor, even the windows - closer to art deco than the soft, flowery art nouveau. There’s a side table that belongs to Ronan - along with a cot that can be pulled out for a nap. Wigs and makeup line both sides of Rochelle’s room, along with several chests and some odd gadgets - little trinkets the singer keeps as a souvenir. From where? No one really knows.

Attic
Located at the very top of the Theatre, the attic has been known to be cold, unforgiving, and dusty. If there were old bits and pieces that could not be used, or had to be stowed away - this was where it would be kept. Once the home of Vivi, this was the first place to catch fire, leaving it utterly, completely exposed to the elements. However, even now there are still some items and objects that could not be removed, leaving them as a reminder of the old glamour the Theatre could command.

Set Designer’s Workshop
The heart and soul of Kelsahn’s operations. No, really, because this was where he lived, breathed, created his madcap sets - and the place seems like it too, when you step in. Lined from wall to wall with sketches and materials, this is where the man works his magic to bring Anette’s vision and Reeva’s stories to life. A portion of it had been damaged by the fire, but there might be enough for you to have a look around.

“Library”
“Library” is a misnomer - it’s a hodgepodge selection of books in a larger store-room with a large window facing outwards. Still, the room had once been filled with memories: little bits and pieces of books, old armchairs, desks, set pieces or things too pretty to be thrown after they’d been built. However, the room itself seems curiously untouched by the fire - albeit a little sooty and dusty.

*UPDATED* - Accessible locations

Borough of the Fierce
*NEW* The Cathedral of Our Merciful Lady
The Cathedral, arguably, is one of the most recognisable landmarks in Khoyesa: its marble facade, geometric spires reaching into the skies, while its interior is near neogothic, with arches and stained glass linings its walls. The very end of the Cathedral is made of up nine niches, each with a grand statue representing a Bastion - a place for worship and quiet.

*NEW* The Khoyesan Catacombs
Beneath the Cathedral of Our Merciful Lady are the Khoyesan Catacombs - a strange, sprawling network of niches and tombs. Some buried here are, of course, nobility and royalty, assigned their own mausoleum at the very end; but the others are plainer, more ordinary people who have done great service to the city - or those very rich who pay for a temporary spot. People go there to pay their respects, and to seek guidance from the clergy who tend to the dead there.

Borough of the Fierce
Maidentear Park
The Maidentear Park is located in the north-western corner of the city - odd, given that the sun doesn’t quite reach it as often, but it has not stopped this part of the city turning into a beautiful wilderness - carefully curated, but often thrilling all the same. In the autumn, its beauty has turned colder, more vicious - closer to the Bastion the Borough was named for. Still, it has its charms - and many a couple have wandered there. Take care, however, not to get lost in the wilderness.

Borough of the Enlightened
The Institute of St. Danserd
Perhaps one of the oldest academic institutions, the Institute of St. Danserd is home to several faculties and research facilities, including the St. Danserd Institute of Magical Research. No, do not ask how that name came about, because chances are, no one really knew either. Excellent for those who choose to visit the locale - whether it be to soak in the academic atmosphere, or conduct some research.

The Perandir Library
The Perandir Library is perhaps the biggest library in Khoyesa - rivalling even that of the different academic institutions. Books, cultural artefacts, and other odd bits and ends find their way here, with the Library hosting occasional exhibitions. It also has the most complete record of newspapers and periodicals, available for anyone and everyone to peruse.

Borough of the Welcoming
*NEW* - The Tortoise Gardens
If Maidentear Park was the fierce, terrible force of nature captured in a corner of the city, the Tortoise Gardens is its more elegantly manicured little sister. Known for its botanical beauty, its myriad of water features, and the beautiful gilded fences lining its perimeter, the Tortoise Garden is a popular haunt for bachelors and bachelorettes to promenade and have assignations - along with little dates.

Last edited by Jadis (24/11/2022 at 13:57)

Beatrix

TBA

Lyla

TBA

Morgan

TBA

✦

Form

Name: Lyla Ivanov
FC: Mila Kunis
Age: 26
Role: The Costumer

Other Info

Traits: Meticulous | Firm | Passionate | Reliable | Protective — Guarded | Irritable | Sarcastic | Moody

Personality: Lyla has always been told that she was quite stoic but she sees that as a rather good trait to have, especially when working with stars and artists, all who have their own moods and can be a pain in the ass at times. She’s had quite the characters to deal with and if she were not firm with them, she’d never get her work done. In dealing with said artists, she also has to interact with them in a way that tells her what she needs to know about their requirements for their performances, so she’s rather good at listening to them (and their problems). She doesn’t mind listening and advising, however she herself finds it difficult to open up to people. Her emotions are kept tightly reined, although one does tend to make itself known - her exasperation. She likes children but doesn’t know how to be around them, and is easily shy and flustered when in an unexpected situation.

Biography: During her time in the orphanage, Lyla had always been interested in clothes—more specifically, showmen clothes. She grew up as an orphan, and had been in and out of foster homes until she was finally old enough to get her own life, working enough dull jobs to pay her way through classical art education. Her passion lay in fantastical designs, built to dazzle the audience whilst also being convenient for the wearer. She left her schooling behind when she realised she simply could not conform to their traditional methods.

She had always been interested in the entertainment industry, captivated by the stunning visuals of the performers and the ambiance of the environment. With longing and desire to join something so out of the ordinary, Lyla spent many a late night creating and drafting designs to show the people in charge. It didn’t take long for her skills to shine through and before she knew it, she was working for the Circus of Marvels, a place where she felt she belonged and her passion could flow unbridled. That was of course, until the fire.

Now she works at an ordinary seamstress shop, forever getting chewed out for going a little too beyond the scope of what was requested for their very dull, lifeless attire.

Trivia:
- Loves to dress well
- Late nights are the best time for her to work, the silence is so very peaceful
- Hums when she’s pre-occupied
- Likes children and finds teenagers annoying but hilarious
- Can go off on a ramble when talking about her work and passion

Connections

- Kelsahn (The Set Designer): Lyla likes the man’s creative mind, and she herself finds inspiration in his work, and constantly shifting thoughts. They tended to work closely together, to find the  balance for the costumes and set to be the perfect match. She likes him, finding his chaotic personality to greatly contrast her own closed-off nature. He can get too much for her introverted self, so she would find a window in their conversation to escape back to her own peaceful workroom. She respects him greatly, though sometimes she does have to remind him of what he was last saying. After the fire, they met up a few times to share a meal, and she found comfort in him, serving as a reminder that they were friends that had met in a dazzling environment but are now two creatives stuck in a world of boring routines.

- Tajun (The Acrobat): He had been one of the performances that Lyla had first seen when stepping foot into the world of extraordinary entertainment, and he was one that had bedazzled her the most, though of course, she would rather die than admit this to him. He was top of her list for being the most troublesome performer to work on, not only because of his finicky, picky nature, but because she was pretty sure he liked to be annoying on purpose. Though he exasperated her, he also amusing and she found herself enjoying his company. They became friends, often sharing meals during some of her late night work, and due to their closeness at the time, she had ended up feeling a little more for him than a friend would. Their friendship took a weird turn after the fire, when she got vulnerable and tipsy, and with the help of liquid courage to boost her feelings for him, she uncharacteristically came on to him and they ended up spending one of the best nights of her life together. Of course, she was quick to escape before he woke the next morning and ever since then, she’s been avoiding him, too embarrassed to deal with their awkward situation. She has not contacted him since that night.

- Andrei (The Strongman): Andrei tended to spark Lyla’s protective instinct and, like with Tajun, exasperation. He was easy to talk to, and one of the easiest to style. He could charm the room, and her along with them, with a smile and a few words. Lyla liked that he was straight-forward and would speak his mind if something was bothering him. He was a sweet guy, kind, and always willing to help carry things around, but his gullible nature meant that she would have to take him aside and remind him that just because someone said “I need your expensive gold watch to rebuild my boat to get back home”, it did not mean that he had to give those scammers his heirloom watch. After the fire, they maintained contact with each other, and she sometimes goes to watch his little league games.

- Vivi (The Urchin): Due to Lyla’s often late-nights at her workroom, she had become quite familiar with late-night roaming Vivi and her not-songbird Rara. And working with Kalsahn meant that she would often see Vivi hanging around, and being his chaotic little helper. Lyla was both grateful and mystified for the impish Vivi because she could get her hands on items that Lyla was almost certain no longer existed in normal markets…. Or even the black markets. But oh well. Questioning Vivi got Lyla nowhere so instead, she just gave Vivi snacks that she likes (though Vivi certainly can get them on her own) and forbade Rara from entering her workshop. Talons and her special materials did not mix. Somehow on her bad days, Lyla found herself feeling better whenever Vivi showed up and even though Lyla didn’t always understand her, she appreciated the company. After the fire, Lyla never heard about or from Vivi, and often found herself missing her company when she was stuck doing late-night design re-dos at her new job.

- Isabel (The Accountant):  They were on friendly terms, exchanging polite conversations and brief chats now and then, mostly about materials prices and the like. Outside of work talk, Lyla and Isabel would drink together occasionally, enjoying the silence and peace away from the hustle and bustle of the Circus. After the fire, they would meet once or twice for a drink and last Lyla heard, Isabel had her own firm.

Attending Festival: Dance of the Lanterns
Interests: Tajun, Kelsahn, Andrei
Places to Investigate:
- Front of House - Ticketing (Day)
- Backstage - Library (Night)
- Backstage - Attic (Night)
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Outfits:

Dance of the Lanterns        |        Visiting Risskov Theatre


Story:

Story TBC

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Round Status:

Round 1: Done   |   Round 2: Almost Done

Round 3: In Progress

Last edited by MistyMisty (26/11/2022 at 15:19)

Working on R2

Locations for R3: Venezia's dressing room (Night), Restaurant (Night), The Khoyesan Catacombs (Day)

Last edited by schoggettchen (24/11/2022 at 13:58)

Hello!

So, after some chatter and having a look at the calendar, I will be closing this contest earlier as mentioned before. This is so (1) it won’t delay the entire running of the calendar, and (2) so everyone actually has time to catch up/write.

I will open the second half once there is enough time to fit it in, and I believe after that, Night at the Theatre will be the last contest I will be hosting - and joining - for a very long time.

Thank you for staying and being so enthusiastic about the contest, the people, and I’m sorry for the abruptness.

Till next time!
Jadis