The Balladeer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tellthestory) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
itscurtains2016-10-11 01:30 pm
tellthestory) wrote in itscurtains2016-10-11 01:30 pm
INTRODUCTION
As the chaos of arrival fades into a more muted confusion, everyone seems to have drifted into the lobby. It's just the most natural place for a large group of people to congregate. But even with twenty of you, it seems a little too big; maybe it's that the ceilings are so high, or that the air is a little too still. It feels like there are silent eyes upon you all.
That's before the great gilded doors on the northern wall swing open, seemingly of their own accord. The man who strides through is already too busy strumming a melody on his guitar to have touched them. He's dressed casually but neatly, in jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. But his most striking feature is his face - or, rather, its familiarity. There are small differences, to be sure: his hair is slightly longer, and there's a breezily confident air about his smile. Otherwise, though, he's a dead ringer for Billy Harris.
His gaze does linger on Billy for a moment as he's scanning the room, but he doesn't speak to him. He's clearly got something to say to everyone.
Velkommen, bienvenue, welcome!
He moves about the perimeter of the lobby as he sings, giving a few small bows over his guitar: first towards Anna and Hans, then the three Frenchmen, each group in turn as he greets them in their native tongue. He doesn't sound entirely conversant in any of them other than English. But anyone can manage a single word, can't they?
Friends, enemies...strangers.
Here, he pauses just long enough to shoot Billy a wink and a grin before wheeling away.
Thank you for joining, our new little play.
Happy to see you, hope you enjoy your stay.
Yokoso, bienvenue, welcome to
The Opera House, the Opera House, the Opera House!
The music continues quietly in the background even as he lifts his hands from the strings to mime a tip of the hat. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is great to finally meet you! How are you all settling in? Everything okay with your dressing rooms?" His tone while speaking is brisk and somewhat businesslike, but he seems to be enjoying himself.
"I am the Balladeer, and I'll be your host for this show. Now, I'm sure you've seen the rules posted around, but just so we're all on the same page, I'm gonna have a little Q&A session right now with all you guys. Please remember, I am an employee of the Opera House, so Rule Five?" He gestures to the rules pinned up on the wall next to him. "Does apply. I wouldn't recommend testing that one. Actually?"
He tilts his head a little, thoughtfully, as something more like appraisal creeps into his eyes. "I would recommend not hurting anybody at all. But that's really not up to me, is it?" Brushing that off with a shrug, he returns to playing the guitar.
Welcome, bienvenue, welcome to
The Opera House, the Opera House, the Opera House!
With that, the music fades, and the Balladeer swings the guitar around to hang at his side. That's it for his entrance; the floor is now yours.
(( OOC: As stated, Rule Five is now in effect. You can attempt a violence if you want; you will not be immediately killed for it! It just won't end pleasantly. ))
That's before the great gilded doors on the northern wall swing open, seemingly of their own accord. The man who strides through is already too busy strumming a melody on his guitar to have touched them. He's dressed casually but neatly, in jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. But his most striking feature is his face - or, rather, its familiarity. There are small differences, to be sure: his hair is slightly longer, and there's a breezily confident air about his smile. Otherwise, though, he's a dead ringer for Billy Harris.
His gaze does linger on Billy for a moment as he's scanning the room, but he doesn't speak to him. He's clearly got something to say to everyone.
Velkommen, bienvenue, welcome!
He moves about the perimeter of the lobby as he sings, giving a few small bows over his guitar: first towards Anna and Hans, then the three Frenchmen, each group in turn as he greets them in their native tongue. He doesn't sound entirely conversant in any of them other than English. But anyone can manage a single word, can't they?
Friends, enemies...strangers.
Here, he pauses just long enough to shoot Billy a wink and a grin before wheeling away.
Thank you for joining, our new little play.
Happy to see you, hope you enjoy your stay.
Yokoso, bienvenue, welcome to
The Opera House, the Opera House, the Opera House!
The music continues quietly in the background even as he lifts his hands from the strings to mime a tip of the hat. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is great to finally meet you! How are you all settling in? Everything okay with your dressing rooms?" His tone while speaking is brisk and somewhat businesslike, but he seems to be enjoying himself.
"I am the Balladeer, and I'll be your host for this show. Now, I'm sure you've seen the rules posted around, but just so we're all on the same page, I'm gonna have a little Q&A session right now with all you guys. Please remember, I am an employee of the Opera House, so Rule Five?" He gestures to the rules pinned up on the wall next to him. "Does apply. I wouldn't recommend testing that one. Actually?"
He tilts his head a little, thoughtfully, as something more like appraisal creeps into his eyes. "I would recommend not hurting anybody at all. But that's really not up to me, is it?" Brushing that off with a shrug, he returns to playing the guitar.
Welcome, bienvenue, welcome to
The Opera House, the Opera House, the Opera House!
With that, the music fades, and the Balladeer swings the guitar around to hang at his side. That's it for his entrance; the floor is now yours.
(( OOC: As stated, Rule Five is now in effect. You can attempt a violence if you want; you will not be immediately killed for it! It just won't end pleasantly. ))
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Raoul's angry too, especially with the lack of concrete answers and people to hold responsible, but when he hears Winslow...do that...he does go over to him, putting a steadying hand on his shoulder.
That steadying hand will turn into a firm hold should he try to make a break for it.]
My friend - he's not worth your rage, he has little in the way of the answers we seek! Please, stay your ire...
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[She's going to help because wh-
She walks over briskly, looking at the very obvious Undead. Why else would he hide his face?]
He's...he's not the "bigwig". He didn't do this.
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He shakes with anger, grunting with frustration. Come on, he deserves it!
Course he hears the other person which causes him to slow his anger.
...he jabs his head to the showrunner. He's not?]
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No. He's not management in this place, it seems.
[That's what he had told her, at least.]
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[And boy does Raoul not look happy about that.]
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He droops, his cape dangling over him. He didn't get after the right guy.
But he's still like this. He looks upward, grasping at his throat. He wants his voice again.]
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Raoul's grip tightens in a reassuring squeeze.] I swear, sir, we will find those who did this to you and reverse it, if it is possible. I have no medical knowledge, but perhaps there is yet a way...
[Even he knows it's a far-flung hope, but...]
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Is something wrong with him?
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He looks to the other one, grasping at his throat as he mimes a mouth hand. He can't talk.]
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...
[She looks around. That's an easy fix, right?]
Maybe we can ask him for something to write on.
[The Balladeer, she means.]
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He still feels like this Balladeer spited him but he's naive enough to think he'll give him something so back to asking Balladeer with a gurgled noise, pointing to his throat.
This after almost attacking him.]
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If he doesn't have anything, I'm sure there are pens and paper somewhere to be found here.
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He pats Raoul's hand as to assure that he's alright now. He won't go berserk...now.]
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Yeah, that's right. I work for the Opera.
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It doesn't ease his own anger much. At least Raoul kept him from going berserk.
But he has to know...he jabs his finger at the Balladeer then clenching his fingers over his face. Did you do this to him?!]
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It really grates on him.]
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[He turns to wave up at the nearest security camera, then nods towards Winslow and spreads his hands in a bewildered gesture.
After a moment, he tilts his head as if listening.]
...you were apparently talking before you got here? Some sort of...something artificial. [He turns away, touching his fingers to one ear.] That's not very specific.
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He looks in the direction of the Balladeer as he nods along. Uh he does? Sure. He'll go long with it.]
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Okay. If your voice thing is broken, Billy can probably fix it. The one that looks like me, not the lawyer. In the meantime, you want a clipboard or something? We've got a lot of clipboards.
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Thanks for the help! At least he doesn't want to kill you anymore.]
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Awesome! I'll grab you one out of the box office at the end of this!
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But at least Winslow has been placated as far as getting kidnapped goes.]
(no subject)