Théâtre De Populaire{Accepting}

[CintaDanTechno]

"My playground was the theatre. I'd sit and watch my mother pretend for a living. As a young girl, that's pretty seductive."


Welcome to the Théâtre De Populaire, the most well-known theatre in Paris. It is here, on this stage and the hallways that burrow around and underneath this theatre, where stories come to life. Here is where every character that has ever been written into a play lives and resides. Fairies dance through the halls and pirates eat lunch together. The Théâtre is timeless. Any thing that exists currently, has, or will is in the Théâtre. It's ruled by Samantha, the Theater Manager, and she rules with a kind albeit strict fist. She takes in people that need a home, and welcomes them into the Theatre, assigning them to a job or a task. The set changes itself, the actors already know there lines, and there's mischief all around. Will you come and see the Théâtre De Populaire yourself?

 

[CintaDanTechno]

Characters Wanted:
- They have to be at least ten years old.
- They can be of any mythological race (or human).
- They may (or may not) possess powers.
- They roles can be either of these choices:
:: Players (Anyone from a PLAY/MUSICAL)
:: Crew (lighting, props, etc.)
:: And/or patrons of any and all assortments.
:: The Theater Manager as well as the Stage Manager are my characters.

~~~

Rules:
1. Follow all Gaia T.o.S. and guild rules.
2. Romance is accepted, but keep it PG 13.
3. No sexual content. Please take it to PMs.
4. No god-modding of any kind.
5. If you are going to be away, let me know please.
6. I like pretty posting styles, and I encourage use of them.
7. I am open to any plot suggestions/surprise twists, so PM me them.
8. When you send me your profile, please add a icon_twisted.gif to show you read the rules.
9. Have fun roaming freely in this world as your character.

 

[CintaDanTechno]

Players: The Entire Show

[b][u]User Name:[/u][/b]

[u]What You Don't Really Know...[/u]
[b]Real Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Race:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Sexuality:[/b]
[b]Appearance(s):[/b]

[u]... Is Not Who You Expect to See[/u]
[b]What You Act Is:[/b]
[b]The Costume/Mask You Wear:[/b]

[u]I Am Still The Same...[/u]
[b]My Likes:[/b]
[b]My Dislikes:[/b]
[b]My Personality:[/b]
[b]My Powers/Abilities:[/b]
[b]My Biography:[/b]

[u]... Do You Still Love Me?[/u]
[b]Crush(es):[/b] (if none apply, put N/A)
[b]Lover(s):[/b] (if none apply, put N/A)

Crew Members: The Behind-The Scene Guys / The Outcasts And Brains

[b][u]User Name:[/u][/b]

[u]The Real Me That's Here...[/u]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Race:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Sexuality:[/b]
[b]Appearance(s):[/b]

[u]... Is Unseen By The World.[/u]
[b]Stage Crew Type:[/b]
[b]What You Work On:[/b]
[b]Hooded Clothes/Mask Worn:[/b]

[u]I Am Still The Same...[/u]
[b]My Likes:[/b]
[b]My Dislikes:[/b]
[b]My Personality:[/b]
[b]My Powers/Abilities:[/b]
[b]My Biography:[/b]

[u]... Do You Still Love Me?[/u]
[b]Crush(es):[/b] (if none apply, put N/A)
[b]Lover(s):[/b] (if none apply, put N/A)

Patrons: The Audience Members / The Curious, Kind, And Innocent

[b][u]User Name:[/u][/b]

[u]I Don't Know Why I'm Here...[/u]
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Race:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Sexuality:[/b]
[b]Appearance(s):[/b]

[u]... But I Want To Stay Forever.[/u]
[b]Nickname(s):[/b]
[b]Occupation(s):[/b]
[b]Why You Are Here:[/b]
[b]Clothes/Mask You Wear:[/b]

[u]I Am Still The Same...[/u]
[b]My Likes:[/b]
[b]My Dislikes:[/b]
[b]My Personality:[/b]
[b]My Powers/Abilities:[/b]
[b]My Biography:[/b]

[u]... Do You Still Love Me?[/u]
[b]Crush(es):[/b] (if none apply, put N/A)
[b]Lover(s):[/b] (if none apply, put N/A)

 

[CintaDanTechno]

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

[CintaDanTechno]

THE GIRLS



THE BOYS

 

[CintaDanTechno]

RESERVED  

[CintaDanTechno]

KittyKatKaye

RESERVED

 

[CintaDanTechno]

RESERVED  

[CintaDanTechno]

BUMP  

[CintaDanTechno]

Ophelia wandered through the halls of the Théâtre, one of the hundred or so Players that were able to wander freely whenever the whim struck them. People usually avoided her and she was content with silence and loneliness. The sound of water had drifted to her ears, carried about the cement corridors. Her cotton robes rustled as she entered through a trap door to emerge underneath the stage. It took a moment of searching but she found a platform that lifted her to the world above in a flurry of fabrics. She stared down at the torn dress, a slight pout taking hold of her cupid's bow mouth. The Wardrobes Manager was going to be disappointed. Then again, everyone was kind to Ophelia, or at least didn't gossip rudely in front of her. If they thought she was crazy, they would never dare say anything to her face. She stay still, staring down at her dress for several long minutes, during which the Little Mermaid set was cleared and she was left alone on stage. Finally she blinked quickly and widely, as though awoken from a dream, and stared out at the House. "Oh, hello there." She spoke to no one in particular. "Hamlet, dearest, wherefore art thou?" Ophelia called, her head cocked to the side. Juliet, though cross whenever Ophy used her lines to her own enjoyment, didn't appear and shake her. Ophelia poked fun at the young girl, but couldn't help but assume that Romeo and the Montagues disliked her for it. She heaved a heavy sigh and turned about in a circle. "Oh, woe is me."

XXXXXX

 

[Call Me Nefret]

My lungs give out as I face the crowd
I think that keeping this up could be dangerous

Kadie walked into the Theater with the same sense of awe. The entire place was coated in a sense of...well, magic. She knew it was corny, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something other about this place. She glanced down at her watch. She had several hours before her father came home and started worrying. It was enough. She slipped through the box office, up the stairs, and to one of the private boxes. There was no way she could afford to sit in one during a performance. This was as close as she could get. She sat in the plush seats and smiled. It was then that she noticed a woman on the stage. She watched, hoping the woman wouldn't see her. Looks like I came at the right time. She thought. Just in time for the show.

 

[The Phantom of GO]

Ңαмʟεт Ңυвεятυs ɖαsнυяιε

Ҭнε Ҏяιиcε ϴғ ɖεимaяк Λиɗ Ҭнε Ɍιgнтғuʟ Ңειя Ҭo Ҭнε Ҭняσиε

A dying man needs to die
as a sleepy man needs to sleep.
And there comes a time when it is wrong,
as well as useless, to resist. - Stewart Alsop.

A small happy smirk appeared from the darkness of the audience area in the stage, towards the back. There, a tall, fairly golden-haired male figure had been napping lazily, a thick book on classic medieval fairy tales in his lap, his hair down just so that it barely covered over his shoulder blades, a hand holding gently upon a certain page about the story of "Sleeping Beauty". He had heard a most familiar voice and, within his sleepy haze had, at first, thought it to be an angel of some sort but, when the fog cleared up, he soon realized it was the dear Ophelia, reciting lines and such out of "Romeo And Juliet". 'Oh, how sweet she sounds...' his normal voice crooned within.

'Ugh, not this again,' another voice sighed and could almost be imagined rolling its eyes.

A third in his mind savagely thought, 'Why haven't you claimed thy maiden yours, young Prince? You could have anything in the world, and, yet, you cannot give enough commitment to one with your whole heart?'

'Oh, if you only knew how hard it was to be myself,' his normal tone thought softly, as if he were fading. He took it upon himself to stand up and say in his bold, strong, and brave voice that was usually only for on-stage, wanting to make a move, "Shall I hear more? ... Or shall I speak at this?" He, just a bit playfully, tucked his hair into his jacket, then put the hood over his head to better hide his appearance.

Ɍσɢεя ɖευɗʟιиɗε ɖαvιs

Λ Ҏяσғιcιeит Ҏeяғσямεя Шнσ Ȋs Лαтuяαʟʟч Ӻяεε-Spιяιтεɗ Λиɗ Ӻяαcтισυs

'Every form of addiction is bad, no matter whether the narcotic be alcohol, morphine... Or even idealism.' - Carl Jung.

Roger was backstage, his hair down normally instead of all gelled up, though it was still naturally a bit spiky in nature, his somewhat fair-toned bare chest showing form under his unbuttoned jacket. He was standing up, his foot precariously over a carry-around amp that was currently connected to his electric guitar as he was quietly tuning it. When he heard voices on stage, he muttered quietly, "Goddammit, not again with Medieval stuff... Why did that playwright create so many characters and stories?!"

Though he admired Shakespeare for his impressive amount of work, hearing it almost all the time was frustrating at times to hear since he would hear it so often from a majority of the performers here. There just needed to be more non-Shakespearean plays out in the world that are quite popular. Like, about now. 'What can one man do...'

 

[Call Me Nefret]

My lungs give out as I face the crowd
I think that keeping this up could be dangerous

It's like she's made for the stage. Kadie thought, leaning up against the edge of the box. Wonder what it's like up there... Images of standing ovations and sold out shows flashed through her mind. She sighed. If only that was possible. She envied the woman onstage, even if there was hardly anyone there to see her. For a few moments, the siren was so caught up in the show, she lost herself. "Brava!" She said loudly. Her eyes widened when she realized what she'd done. She clapped a hand over her mouth, to keep other exclamations from escaping. She wasn't supposed to be here. If someone found her...I am such an idiot. She thought, biting her lip nervously.

 

[CintaDanTechno]

{Hey guys, I'm on my iPod, so my format will be like this until I can get on a computer again. It also might be difficult for memto do extremely long posts. Just saying.}

Ophelia spun, her torn robes flowering around her like clouds drifting through the sky. Her golden ringlets, released from their usual prison of a braid or a Greek bun danced upon her shoulders and made her creamy skin appear an almost deathly palor. Her eyes shown as her rejected suitor interjected just as she expected from him. The scene change after The Little Mermaid was to a balcony in a garden, the moon reaching out her shimmering tendrils; and was what had made Juilet's familiar lines samba throughout her scattered mind. "Me thinks we have a visitor, my faire Hamlet. Shall we investigate?" She chimed as she plucked an exotic flower from a vine nearby. Ophelia hummed a song to herself that really wasn't a song, instead a jumble of random notes slammed together into some strange being. Like her.
"Hamlet, dearest love, I'll have you know that I bite my thumb; but not at you, sir." Ophelia turned to him as she dropped the petaless flower to the stage floor. She smiled as she strolled to him and circled him slowly. A soft sigh, like a whisper of air over the skin, purred from her lips and she turned towards the House. Her searing gaze immediately went to Kadence and a smile, though not meant to be harmful, would send a shiver down even a brave man's spine.

 

[Call Me Nefret]

My lungs give out as I face the crowd
I think that keeping this up could be dangerous

Kadie's eyes widened when the woman's gaze locked right on her. Busted. She thought. Fight or flee? She wasn't much of a fighter. Besides, she was supposed to be keeping a low profile. Four years of hiding and I still suck at it. She thought, leaving the box. Would they stop her? Probably. She quickened her step. She was to the box office doors when she heard footsteps extremely close behind her. "Damn." She cursed under her breath, turning around to face her pursuer. What kind of punishment did sneaking into a theater earn? Like in all times of trouble, she unlocked the special siren part of her mind. The part that she kept locked most of the time because it drove her crazy. Just like that, a dozen different, lyric-less songs floated through her head. The loudest, she assumed, belonged to the person in front of her. She focused in, trying to make sense of it. If all else failed, she had her voice.