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OOC thread: The White Roses: OOC Thread

IC:

She heard the knock at the door. “I'm coming!” She yelled down the stairs as she rushed back to the mirror and fixed her soft black hair for the seventeenth time. It was one of her first times wearing makeup, and she thought she looked okay. She wasn't used to her eye lashes being so long, but all the older women wore make up. They were the women that got all the attention. She smoothed her emerald green dress and fixed the bow in the back as best she could. She slipped on her new shoes and put a ring on. She heard the knock again. “I'm coming, I'm coming!” She yelled as she slid down the hall, down the staircase and nearly tripped over herself running to the door. She stopped short and took a breath before opening the door.

“Belle,” the blond haired man said as he looked down at the girl with a half smile. Her wide eyes and habit of biting her lower lip let him know that she was nervous; that she was waiting for a response. He could hear her heart beat quicken, and saw his own reflection in her light brown eyes. “You look so beautiful tonight.” She smiled a bit, but stopped herself. She wanted to jump up and down but it wasn't proper.

“Oh, you shouldn't tell such lies,” she said with a slight blush to her cheeks.

“I'm not lying,” he said, bent down and kissed her cheek. She placed her gloved fingertips to where his cold lips had brushed against his skin. He offered his arm and she took it. “We can't stay here all night, we'll miss the show.” She nodded her head in agreement. She couldn't speak. She clung to his arm as they walked down the cobblestone pathway to the carriage at the end of the winding path from her house. Belle's parents had died when she was young, and she lived alone in their old house at only seventeen. Money had been tight. She had to work a few jobs in addition to her school work that she persisted to carry out. Many girls her age weren't interested in school. Then she met Vincenti. He gave her what she would accept, but it was never much. He didn't ask how she managed to afford her dress. He knew she had been skipping meals, and had lost a few pounds by doing so. While she didn't need to lose the weight, he knew how much it meant to her; to have been able to buy that dress.

Vincenti opened the door of the carriage for her and climbed in afterwards, closing the door behind him. He ordered the driver to set out, and wrapped one arm around Belle.

“You don't have to do all this for me, Vincenti...” she said quietly. “We could have gotten there by foot. I wouldn't have minded. I can walk for a long time in heels.”

He smirked. “I told you already, Belle, it's no trouble at all.” He kissed her forehead. She folded her hands in her lap and looked out the window. All the women had such pretty dresses. Here she was with a plain emerald green gown, which was the best that she owned now, but it didn't have the same flare that the others did. He watched her as she gazed outside, her eyes scanning all the people that walked by. “I have a gift for you, Belle.” She looked back into his gray eyes with a bit of shock. He pulled out a blue velvet box and handed it to her. Her hands shook slightly as she opened the lid.

“Vincenti,” she gasped and looked down at the necklace. It had a simple chain with three diamonds in the center one dangling beneath the other. “You shouldn't have,” she scolded. “I can't take this...” He lifted it from the box and clasped it around her neck.

“Yes you can,” he whispered, and she opened her mouth to protest when he kissed her.

“We have arrived, Master Valtieri,” the driver's voice came from outside. He waited a few second before pulling away from the kiss. She blushed and he got out first, offering his hand to her to make it easier for her to climb out. She took his hand, and almost stumbled out of the carriage. She wasn't that used to walking in heels quite as tall as these. She was about to apologize when she looked up to see him smiling, and he took her arm in his as they walked towards the theater. She had been so self conscious that she had not realized what he was wearing. It was a custom suit, black with subtle silver accents. His short blond hair had been combed stick straight. He was so beautiful. She could feel the eyes of the other women upon him, which made her even more self-conscious.

“What are you worrying about Belle?” he asked as they found their seats in their own private balcony. She had quickly been distracted by the magnificence of the theater that she was unable to answer his question, let alone worry about her self. She was so small in a grand theater like this. He intertwined her hand with his and watched her expressions change as the opera progressed. His eyes didn't move from her countenance. He saw her joy, sorrow, anger, and laughter as the scenes went on. He had already seen the opera numerous times, and had had a century to do so. Many things changed, but here things remained preserved in time. She unexpectedly leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Promise me...when I get a bit older,” she whispered to him as her hand trailed to the necklace around her neck. “You'll let me spend eternity with you. Promise me...”

“Belle...”

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Belle Anastacia Shardakov[Noir] http://roleplayerguild.com/f9/the-wh...-tragedy-7704/
"You speak from a true heart with voice pierces the soul through cloth and flesh.
No experience can match that passion."

Upon arriving home, Vincenti walked Belle to the door and the two said their goodbyes there. As the door closed behind her she ran up the staircase and peered out the window to watch his carriage leave. It was getting quite dark, and she lit a solitary candle on her night stand before carefully taking off her dress and hanging it up. She looked at herself in the mirror; at the glimmer around her neck. Why had he chosen her out of everyone? She prayed from the bottom of her heart that it wasn't simply out of pity. She was pretty, but there were girls far more beautiful. She was intelligent, and yet there were girls far brighter (at least she felt). She had no family; no dowry to offer. She had never met his family, although they had never particularly gotten on that subject. She gazed out the window once more, half hoping to see the carriage still there, but it wasn't. It would have been considered improper for him to have stayed. She blew the candle out and laid down upon the bed, wrapping the covers around her figure. She quickly fell asleep, engulfed within her dreams. She hadn't realized just how very tired she had become.

The light of day woke her up, and she hurried to get dressed. She still had a few chores to do before class, which started at noon. She wore a simple cream linen dress with a matching bow in her hair. She used only a bit of the makeup that she had used last night, grabbed her bag and rushed out the door. She greeted the shop keeper who smiled at her. He knew of her situation and often skipped items and said nothing, unless she caught him doing it. In which case she would scold him, say she could pay like everyone else could, even if it took the last scent of her pay for that day. Still, he had grown a fondness for her. There was something about her that made one smile and frown at the same time. After picking up eggs, bread, and a few other items, she payed the owner and walked out onto the road.

A gentleman with dark hair bumped into her, and she stumbled back. Clearly he hadn't been watching where he was going. Luckily, she didn't drop anything. He looked at her with a peculiar smile and after a few moments he apologized, and went on his way. Belle hurried along her way as well. The man didn't look strange, but that smile of his made her feel uneasy. Silently, she wished to see Vincenti again. She didn't know when he would contact her again, but he never went over a week without doing so. She returned to her house, put the goods away, and cooked one egg for breakfast. After quickly eating with a glass of water. She grabbed her small purse and headed off to class.

On the way she saw a man calling out something, a group of women crowded around him. She headed over towards him. “Did you want to sign up?” he asked looking directly at Belle. Belle shook her head. “Come on, you'd have a chance of winning. What's your name?”

“Belle Anastacia...” she replied softly.

“All right Belle, we'll see you next week!”

What exactly did I just sign up for? She thought silently. The other women appeared to be excited, but this little incident was making her late for class. She walked quickly down the roads, heading towards the building. At least, she had, a few spare minutes with her resumed pace.

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Belle Anastacia Shardakov[Noir] http://roleplayerguild.com/f9/the-wh...-tragedy-7704/
"You speak from a true heart with voice pierces the soul through cloth and flesh.
No experience can match that passion."

She ran into the school and slowed as she saw the pendulum of the clock tick back and forth. She still had about two minutes left as she entered class and sat down. This school was one of the few that took an interest into the education of young woman. Belle took her seat at the second chair in the fourth column. There were about twelve women in total in each one of her classes. She looked to the seat next to her. Her best friend, Maryanne, was almost always late. Belle watched as Maryanne drifted into the room just seconds before the class started, although it seemed today that their teacher would be late as well. Maryanne flipped her blond curls over one shoulder, and leaned close to Belle.

“How was the opera?” she asked quietly, seeking information from her friend.

“It was great,” Belle said with a reminiscent smile. It was more than great, but what made it so spectacular was the fact that she had been able to spend it with Vincenti. Maryanne didn’t particularly c are for Vincenti, although they had never had an actual meeting or conversation. What she had gathered from talking with Belle was that he was older than she was, probably around 35! That simply was a scandal in itself. Much to Maryanne’s disappointment, however, Belle didn’t take his age into consideration, and every attempt for Maryanne to throw Belle at younger, more appropriate men failed miserably. Her friend had come to accept the fact that Belle was going to do whatever she wanted to, no matter what good advice you would give her. Maryanne had been courted by a fair number of guys and had a line waiting. Vincenti was the first one to court Belle as far as she knew.

“Oh, Belle!” she exclaimed and brushed back her friend’s hair to better see the diamond pendent. “It’s so beautiful!” She then hid her fascination and admiration by scolding her friend. “He’s trying to buy you, Belle!”

“Don’t talk such rubbish,” Belle said quietly. “He knows I’m not interested in money.”

“Well you should be,” Maryanne replied back.

“Maryanne…”

“Sorry, Belle. Sometimes I just don’t think about what I’m saying. It’s just sometimes I think that this guy is looking for a kept woman. He’s taken you to the theater, given you jewelry, and you’ve been seeing him nearly every week! I just want to make sure that his intentions are---“

“His intentions are noble, Maryanne,” Belle said, getting a bit frustrated that her friend was attempting to ruin what bit of perfection she could acquire. “Listen, you’ve never met him and I’m very happy with him. He had never been too forward, and has always been respectful. Now just try and be happy for me, all right?”

“All right,” Maryanne replied, and looked at the necklace once more. “It really is beautiful.”

Belle smiled.

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Belle Anastacia Shardakov[Noir] http://roleplayerguild.com/f9/the-wh...-tragedy-7704/
"You speak from a true heart with voice pierces the soul through cloth and flesh.
No experience can match that passion."

The door opened and in swept a figure with his long , silver edged cloak and dog collar showing proudly Reverend Carl Smith placed a pile of books with ease onto the table, a couple slipping slightly before he straightened them back up.

“Good morning Class.” he said with unnerving quiet considering the fiery sermons he usually gave in the weekly assemblies and other activities which required his attention. “I am afraid that your regular teacher, Mr Johnson is detained due to the fact his wife went into labour earlier this morning. As such, I will be taking your literature class today.”

There was a couple of groans which caused him to frown and slam the desk with an open palm, causing a number of the students to jump. “As much as you’re all thrilled by this I am sure, I am not. I had other things I wished to attend to, but alas.” He then straightened up behind the desk and smiled.

“Set honour in one eye and death i' the other, And I will look on both indifferently.” he said, looking around the room. “Where is that a quote from? You.” he said pointing to Maryanne. “Miss. Where is that from?”

“Uh, The bible?” she ventured much to the tutting of Smith as he walked in front of the desk.

“No, I am afraid not.” He said with another shake of his head. “Beware the ides of March. You.” he said, snapping his fingers and pointing to another.

“Uhm, Shakespeare?” The girl ventured.

Smith clapped his hands once. “Correct, well done. Julius Caesar to be exact. One of my personal favourites. However, most of the libraries copies are out at the moment so we’ll have to make do with Romeo and Juliet.” He picked the books up in one hand and they wobbled slightly before he moved around the class handing them out. “We’ll be doing the first act and reflecting on whether Shakespeare was writing truly about love, or lust. Which as you all know I classify a sin.” he span slightly as he reached back to the front, a copy of the book in his hand, he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and smiled. “Shall we begin then? Who wants to play which roles to read them out as we go?”

“Belle and I will,” Maryanne volunteered for the both of them. Maryanne hopped out of her seat while Belle wanted to hit her head against the desk. She didn't like getting up in front of people. She was quite the opposite from Maryanne; reserved, quiet, and diligent. Perhaps that was why they got along so well. Maryanne volunteered to be Romeo, and some of the other women laughed. It was quite fitting. Maryanne flipped to a page then showed it to Belle in her own copy. Belle blushed. Of course Maryanne would have chosen that scene. Belle fully realized that she was just trying to have fun, and didn't realize that Belle truly didn't want to volunteer. She was so very nervous. That left Belle as Juliet.

Maryanne started, clearly not trying much to the teacher's dismay. She was overly dramatic which got laughs and snickers from the others in the class. Despite the fact that she was performing to her highest degree, she was the favorite in the class, and anything that she wore was fashionable, and anything that she said would be repeated and written down in the tombs for ages. Belle, on the other hand, was quite, quite nervous. Her voice was soft and subtle, and she was focused so much on the words that there was little other emotion that fear within her voice. She sighed softly as Maryanne started speaking again. Belle looked down at the text and read her next few lines. She took a deep breath, and Maryanne stood there looking at her. She supposed it was her turn so she began.

Something happened when she was ready, as it often does with words you can identify with. Belle closed her eyes momentarily, trying to think of the words rather than the numerous amount of eyes on her. She felt a warmth in her chest as she continued, her voice growing stronger, but not over powering. Maryanne's eyes widened from the unexpected change in her friend, but Belle failed to acknowledge the glance. The room itself had gone quiet.

“Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

Belle looked up from the text to stare at Maryanne's expression. She suddenly became aware of herself, and looked at the rest of the class, who were also shocked at the quiet girl's passionate interpretation. She looked at the reverend then back at Maryanne, and blushed heavily. What had come over her?

“My God, Belle,” Maryanne said. “You should be an actress! Isn't she wonderful?” She directed the question towards the class who broke out in whispers of praise and wonderment. Belle finally exhaled. At least Maryanne had lightened the embarrassment for her. She looked down at the text. They were just words. Why should they be any different than anything else that she had read before?

__________________

Belle Anastacia Shardakov[Noir] http://roleplayerguild.com/f9/the-wh...-tragedy-7704/
"You speak from a true heart with voice pierces the soul through cloth and flesh.
No experience can match that passion."

Carl had largely been annoyed by Maryanne’s performance and his expression showed it from the single quirked eyebrow and the way he pulled his glasses down onto his nose, and looked up at her from his text.

The Reverend watched the two girls when Belle recited the words from the piece and raised a single eyebrow, pushing his glasses back onto his nose with the corner of his text and remaining quiet, his lips pursed as he watched the class began to whisper and mutter before he slapped his hand on the desk again, drawing everyone’s attention with the sudden bang.

“Much better than you, it seems, Maryanne. You’re very over dramatic.” Smith said as he stood up from behind his desk and looked down at his copy again, then up at Belle. “I am impressed by that performance, Belle.” he said with an appreciative nod before he closed the book as a bell began to ring out, he shrugged and sighed.

“Though it seems we are at an end, Miss Belle, if you’d be so kind as to wait behind for a moment or two? Don‘t worry about your next class, I can deal with that.”

Belle turned from the professor and gave Maryanne a frightened look. Maryanne had no idea why the Reverend wanted Belle to stay, but with the reverend it never was good. “It's all right Belle I'll see you in history...” she said, and quietly slipped out of the room along with the rest of the class, leaving Belle and the reverend to themselves. Belle turned back to the professor and looked at him. She cast her eyes to the ground. The reverend was a strict one, and while his sermons were impressive, he scared her. Scared her quite a bit. He didn't scare her in a physical way that she'd be scared of her well being. He made her fear for the well-being of her soul. She put the book down on the desk and stood there wordlessly for what seemed to be like an eternity.

“I'm sorry, Reverend,” she began. “If I offended you or anyone else in any way.” She blushed. “I will control myself next time. Excuse me sir, I'm going to be late for history,” she bowed and headed towards the door.

Belle was the type of student all the teachers loved, and even if they did love her, she still didn't acknowledge it. She was there only for the betterment of her own future, not to impress people. She was there to learn something and perhaps become a governess and teach. An education would do her a lot of good so she could make a bit more money to support herself. Although, she wondered now if that was where her destiny would take her; teaching rich children.

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Belle Anastacia Shardakov[Noir] http://roleplayerguild.com/f9/the-wh...-tragedy-7704/
"You speak from a true heart with voice pierces the soul through cloth and flesh.
No experience can match that passion."

“Belle.” he said sternly as she turned to the door, causing her to stop and wince, but when she turned back around he found him smiling slightly. “I am very surprised by your acting talents, Miss Anastasia.” The Reverend said as he pushed his delicate glasses up his pointed, thin nose.

“I have a friend, well. Member of my flock actually at the church on Mason Street…” he paused for a moment considering his words. “Well, if you can do that more often, he’d be interested in a girl such as yourself to play Juliet in a rendition of Romeo and Juliet at his Theatre down on the corner of 12th and 23nd. You know the one?” he scratched his chin and leant slightly on the desk as he looked over to her.

“The Apollo I believe he called it. Just been fitted fully out with Electric lighting. It’s certainly got excellent acoustics for when the choir sings there for some of it’s performances…” he looked at her nervous self and sighed.

“You’re very good and I think you should meet him. I can arrange a meeting if you wish, at the Church tomorrow after school. We normally take tea together out in the Orchard you see.” He shrugged. “But that of course is up to you, and no I won’t try converting you from Orthodox to Protestant while there, the tea won’t be made of holy water that will secretly cleanse your soul or anything like that.” He said quite seriously.

Belle was taken a back. Why exactly was he doing this? Did he feel pity for her about what happened to her parents or something else? She didn't know what to say, and for a moment, she froze in complete shock. “Thank you, Reverend,” she said and nodded in acknowledgment before she rushed off to her history class which she managed to get to on time. She looked out the window thinking. Today had been such a strange day. She didn't want to get up in front of millions of people to act. Whatever would Vincenti think if she played Juliet? If she had to kiss someone else...She blushed at the thought of it. She didn't want anyone else. She watched the carriages go by, the women, men, and children walk about on the streets. She didn't like history quite as much as she liked literature or the sciences. It all seemed so pointless. What was in the past was in the past. Yes, you could learn a little from past mistakes, but let the leaders of the country learn about that things. There was nothing that a girl like her could possibly learn that she couldn't figure out with common sense and through her own experiences.

When class was over she grabbed her books, and exchanged looks with Maryanne who had been staring at their professor rather than outside the window. Maryanne rushed up to Belle. “So what did he want? Did you get in trouble? I'm so sorry for pulling you up there...but you are my partner in crime---”

“No, Maryanne, nothing like that,” Belle reassured her friend. “He wanted me to play Juliet...or at least try out for the one that's going to be playing at the local opera house...”

“Oh, Belle!” she yelped and grabbed Belle's hands and spun her around. “That's simply marvelous! Oh I can't wait! You're so quiet all the time, and you really were great in class today. People will know like I know; how great you really are.”

“I don't think I'm going to do it, I mean...I'd be taking time out of class and everything...It's a professional thing you know.”

“Didn't you tell me Vincenti loves Shakespeare? You went and saw that play, oh what was it called?”

“Measure for Measure...” Belle chimed in.

“Yes that's it....” Maryanne confirmed. “Well consider it, okay?” They waved goodbye as the two went their separate ways home.

__________________

Belle Anastacia Shardakov[Noir] http://roleplayerguild.com/f9/the-wh...-tragedy-7704/
"You speak from a true heart with voice pierces the soul through cloth and flesh.
No experience can match that passion."

Belle turned the corner of the fence at the end of the drive straight into Vincenti's arms. She jumped at the surprise, and forgot herself. She wrapped her arms around him and heard his light laugh. “I take it you had a good day?” he said softly, and watched as she recoiled from him and took his arm so that they could walk along the street together and not be gawked at.

“Perfectly terrible day,” she remarked. He raised his brow in question. “First, I almost lost my breakfast because someone bumped into me this morning. I get to class and Maryanne pulls me up to read Shakespeare. I lost myself and apparently did too good of a job because the substitute who was teaching the class wants me to try out for Juliet in the upcoming play. Meanwhile God knows I can't get up in front of a large number of people and say anything!” He took her book bag from her so she wouldn't have to carry as she continued to speak. “I mean, can you really believe it? All I wanted to do was learn and now I'm being sucked into all of this...”

“I wouldn't say that, Belle,” Vincenti replied. “I, for one, think you should do it. I knew Shakespeare. He could pick no better person to play the part. Your beautiful, and your heart is as pure diamond. If it had been under the same circumstances, would you not have done exactly what Juliet did? With her words and her actions?” This struck Belle as strange. She blushed.

“Just rubbish,” she said in return as they headed to one of the local parks and sat down on the bench. It was getting dark out, but still light enough to be expectable. He took the book out of her bag and handed it to her. “Here...start with any line...I might be a little rusty. Start with a scene between Romeo and Juliet.”

Belle's face got hot and she frantically flipped the pages of the book in front of her. “If they do see thee, they will murder thee,” she said, picking a short line to challenge him.

Vinenti cleared his throat. “Let me think... Alack...Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye, than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity.” He said, his voice floating through the air like air. Her expression softened.

“I would not for the world they saw thee here. “

“I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; And but thou love me, let them find me here: My life were better ended by their hate, Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.”

“By whose direction found'st thou out this place?”

“By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise,” His starlit gray eyes were unnatural in the moonlight, as if they were lit themselves. She gazed into those eyes and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head against his chest. He wrapped one arm around her and bent his head. “He's right Belle, you are very good. My old friend would have been proud. It something very profound to know, that when you say those words you speak not as if they were to the character, but as if they were to me. That means a lot Belle...” He said, and kissed her hair.

__________________

Belle Anastacia Shardakov[Noir] http://roleplayerguild.com/f9/the-wh...-tragedy-7704/
"You speak from a true heart with voice pierces the soul through cloth and flesh.
No experience can match that passion."