Author's Note:
This is the back story of one of the plots in my RT. Not that I expect any takers, 'tis just a tale that keeps haunting me, so I figured this Challenge presents an opportunity to get the story out of my mind. Regardless, I do hope that it tickles the brain and is as visual as I see it in my mind's eye. Be well, Sanctum and thank you to all that took the time to let their orbs dance across the lines of this entry.
The crowd gathered inside of the arena, growing in sound as well as size as they piled in. The air seemed almost electrified as the excitement of the people found their seats and made comfortable for the events of the evening. The last of the audio and strap checks had been performed only moments before the admittance of the ticket holders, but it had done nothing to ease the nerves of Calliope Stanhope hearing the infamous words one should never, ever, utter to a performer on opening night.
"Good luck tonight!"
As those very words caressed her ears, her brain had been penetrated with the unsatiable feeling that something would go terribly wrong. The pats on the back had done little to make the feelings flee, but the performer in her made the smile appear immediately as well as the kind and silent nods of 'Thank you's in return. The Five Minute call had been issued and silence broken after that call resulted in a hefty fine from one's pay for that show so everyone had learned to become fluent in Mime.
"I hate this skirt," Callie whispered to Hamish as they took their places on the sides of the stage, waiting for the curtain to draw back. "It's going to catch, I know it!"
"Shush, now," he calmly whispered back, running his calloused hands along the sides of her arms. "We've not had an issue in rehearsal. It's beautiful as well as the man standing in blue next to it."
Turning her head to stick her tongue out at his comment, Callie was met with a face of his own, catching her off her guard and making her almost laugh out loud. It was his way to make her nerves calm when he knew they would run high. It had always worked until now.
"You know it's a silly superstition, right? Just because someone says it, it doesn't mean anything, Cal," he whispered, almost inaudible. "Everything will go off without a hitch. You'll see."
"I hope you're right..." Callie muttered under her breath, following behind her partner as he walked out to the middle of the darkened arena. The stage manager was directing the last of the hands and lighting techs before the Two Minute curtain call had been sounded, signalling the house lights to lower and the performers to take their places.
"LADIES, GENTLEMEN, MERE MORTALS ALIKE!!" Stephan, the ringmaster called out, gaining a bit of feedback from his microphone and earning a few chuckles from the audience. "WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY... 'THE SHOW MUST GO ON!"
The live band, which had been well tucked away in a compartment hidden below stage level, apparently knew that Stephan was testing the limits of one's tolerance for the ever dreaded 'Dad Joke', and struck out a rimshot that had been what the ringmaster had been going for. A single spotlight kicked on as the symbols clanged together, shining brightly on the one and only Stephan Bryant, Ringmaster of one of the world's more daring travelling acts. The ebony and red silk striped suit had been a staple since his first show in the States, although tonight, instead of the traditional top hat, he accessorized with a miniature red and black feathered fan. Sporting more red lipstick than most acrobats Callie knew, Stephan flamboyantly flapped open his fan and littered it before snapping it shut with a flourish and smiling his blinding veneers, raised his microphone.
"What's next, body glitter instead of a suit?" The whisper should haven't have been surprising, but Callie had never been so glad to still be on the dark side of the stage. Having to bite her lip hard enough to keep from laughing, Callie began to taste the telltale salty metallic of her folly.
"WELCOME, ONE AND ALL, TO CIRQUE DE GRAVITE!!"
The crowd roared with excitement as the show they had all been waiting for was introduced and mere seconds away from starting. As the music began, the performers rushed out onto the stage from their respective waiting places in the first costumes of the night. The majority had been aerial arts of one form or another, though those that were floor-bound still rolled out their giant hoops and other props used in their acts. Callie had to admit that she did think the costumes were fabulous, if not a bit longer than the normal lengths she had been used to wearing. The soft, almost weightless blue silk had caressed the back of her calves as she daintily ran behind Hamish in his silken slacks. Their costumes matched in colours that moved like the crystalline blue waters they were trying to mimic. The frothy white at the top depicted the foam of the tides that tickled the shorelines of the ocean, down to the rich dark blues one would imagine awaiting them at the deeper ends. Her pointe shoes had been dyed the darkest hue, though as the light shined down upon her, they looked almost violet-blue. Hamish's colours matched from the waist down, but that was where his costume had ended. Meredith, the costume designer felt the almost 'Magic Mike' attire would draw more... 'Fans'.
"ON THE AERIAL STRAPS... MISS CALIOPE STANHOP AND HAAAAAMISH HAAAAASSSELLBEERRG-ah!"
With an en pointe pirouette and a wink at Hamish for the way he had been announced, knowing that he hated it when Stephan would do that, she felt her nerves begin to ease. Only just a bit. Through a perfectly posed smile, Callie couldn't resist a poorly ventriloquist attempt at mimicking Stephan's opening line. "The show must go on."
"Can it, or I'll drop you," Hamish retorted in the same manner, not knowing that his remark stirred the butterflies to life in the pit of her stomach.
"I'll sue thanks to all of the witnesses in the crowd," she said as she grasped his hands, preparing for the lifted handstands before their exit.
"Good luck pointing one out, Cal," he said as he lifted her above his head.
The dismount was spot on, thankfully he had remembered that her toes were currently encased in a manmade torture device and had set her gently to the floor. The twosome jaunted off to their exit to await their marks and take their turn in the air and spotlight.
Everything had gone off without a hitch since the beginning of the show and now, it was up to Cal and Ham to bring it home with a bang. Several costume changes and about an hour and a half later, it was time to throw the pointe shoes and gown that made Caliope cringe with dread of having to put them back on. The butterflies in the pit of her stomach began slamming around hard enough to make her nauseous, but as she had joked earlier that evening, 'The show must go on.'
"AND NOW, EARTH DWELLERS," the sound of Stephan's voice brought her thoughts back to the present. "FOR OUR FINAL ACT... THE ARTFUL AND ELEGANT... AERIAL STRAPS!"
Dancing en pointe had been a little easier now that she had time in between appearances to bounce the stiffness out of them, but waltzing whilst en pointe had been a nightmare. 'I am definitely calling dibs on the ice bath after this,' Caliope thought to herself, as the music began to play, cueing the pain. Hamish's body moved as though it were made of nothing but the liquid they were waltzing to, extending the graceful sways, practically carrying her as he tread across the stage to the dangling straps.
He raised her as if she weighed nothing at all, graceful flexes of his shirtless flesh tantalized the ladies, and men, close enough to the stage. Slipping her wrists into the holes and securing her grip, he released her and spun her around to help her gain momentum. The straps raised, pulling her out of his reach and her solitary moment on the straps aided in learning how to manoeuvre the fabric of her costume's skirt. It felt as though she had only been in the air for a moment when she felt the lowering of the straps, indicating time to loosen the one on the right for Hamish to use.
'Almost the end... Almost...'
The music and sounds of the crowd didn't seem to register as the pull of the skirt and the sound of tearing filled her ears. She went into a panic, breaking character to warn Hamish of what was about to happen. She was sure when he felt the thin silk give, that he was aware as well. there had been no safety net installed since it seemed more 'death defying' in the presentation. At that moment, she wished the crowds would have understood why it would have been beneficial. Hamish's hand had been accidentally wrapped in the bottom of the silken skirt during one of the handled splits, during which time, his fingertips had been wrapped around her ankle, allowing the silk to betray them both.
The final thread holding the skirt and her partner snapped and the world stopped. Having been higher than their normal two and a half metres, Caliope knew that Hamish was in trouble and she had wished with all of her might that she could turn back the hands of the clock and refuse to wear that costume. The crowd's sharp intake of breaths and screams seemed to wake Cali from her momentary stupor as she felt her feet lower onto the ground about 5 metres later.
"Get back!" Stephan yelled to a few of the performers that ran out onto the stage where he had landed. Hard. "Damn it! I SAID GET BACK!"
As one would suspect with anything to do with arenas and aerial arts, there were always paramedics or some sort of E.M.T. on standby just in case of situations like the one everyone found themselves witnessing. Cali tried to rush over and managed to make it as far as Stephan since the lift operator had been instructed to move the lines away from the scene. She was strong but she was smaller than Stephan who managed to hold her back, closing his arms around her, pulling her into an almost hug to calm her struggle.
"I need to know, Steph! I know it was my fault! I need to kn--"
"Shhh," he cooed into her hair, his forced embrace loosening only a fraction when he could feel how hard she was shaking. "He's alive, Cal. He'll live... He's alive..."
To be Continued...
This is the back story of one of the plots in my RT. Not that I expect any takers, 'tis just a tale that keeps haunting me, so I figured this Challenge presents an opportunity to get the story out of my mind. Regardless, I do hope that it tickles the brain and is as visual as I see it in my mind's eye. Be well, Sanctum and thank you to all that took the time to let their orbs dance across the lines of this entry.
Opening Night
"Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires."
~ William Shakespeare
~ William Shakespeare
The crowd gathered inside of the arena, growing in sound as well as size as they piled in. The air seemed almost electrified as the excitement of the people found their seats and made comfortable for the events of the evening. The last of the audio and strap checks had been performed only moments before the admittance of the ticket holders, but it had done nothing to ease the nerves of Calliope Stanhope hearing the infamous words one should never, ever, utter to a performer on opening night.
"Good luck tonight!"
As those very words caressed her ears, her brain had been penetrated with the unsatiable feeling that something would go terribly wrong. The pats on the back had done little to make the feelings flee, but the performer in her made the smile appear immediately as well as the kind and silent nods of 'Thank you's in return. The Five Minute call had been issued and silence broken after that call resulted in a hefty fine from one's pay for that show so everyone had learned to become fluent in Mime.
Callie looked over at her partner of almost fifteen years, Hamish Hasselberg, a gent from the great neutral land of Switzerland who had been handpicked when she was just seven years old. From the tender age of just four years old she had been training for this night and she was sure that Hamish had been training longer, given that he was three years her senior. Regardless, tonight had been the night they had been preparing for, for the last two years to stay 'Relevant' in a world that had switched their delights to more cinematic and electronic flavours of the day. "I hate this skirt," Callie whispered to Hamish as they took their places on the sides of the stage, waiting for the curtain to draw back. "It's going to catch, I know it!"
"Shush, now," he calmly whispered back, running his calloused hands along the sides of her arms. "We've not had an issue in rehearsal. It's beautiful as well as the man standing in blue next to it."
Turning her head to stick her tongue out at his comment, Callie was met with a face of his own, catching her off her guard and making her almost laugh out loud. It was his way to make her nerves calm when he knew they would run high. It had always worked until now.
"You know it's a silly superstition, right? Just because someone says it, it doesn't mean anything, Cal," he whispered, almost inaudible. "Everything will go off without a hitch. You'll see."
"I hope you're right..." Callie muttered under her breath, following behind her partner as he walked out to the middle of the darkened arena. The stage manager was directing the last of the hands and lighting techs before the Two Minute curtain call had been sounded, signalling the house lights to lower and the performers to take their places.
Showtime
"LADIES, GENTLEMEN, MERE MORTALS ALIKE!!" Stephan, the ringmaster called out, gaining a bit of feedback from his microphone and earning a few chuckles from the audience. "WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY... 'THE SHOW MUST GO ON!"
The live band, which had been well tucked away in a compartment hidden below stage level, apparently knew that Stephan was testing the limits of one's tolerance for the ever dreaded 'Dad Joke', and struck out a rimshot that had been what the ringmaster had been going for. A single spotlight kicked on as the symbols clanged together, shining brightly on the one and only Stephan Bryant, Ringmaster of one of the world's more daring travelling acts. The ebony and red silk striped suit had been a staple since his first show in the States, although tonight, instead of the traditional top hat, he accessorized with a miniature red and black feathered fan. Sporting more red lipstick than most acrobats Callie knew, Stephan flamboyantly flapped open his fan and littered it before snapping it shut with a flourish and smiling his blinding veneers, raised his microphone.
"What's next, body glitter instead of a suit?" The whisper should haven't have been surprising, but Callie had never been so glad to still be on the dark side of the stage. Having to bite her lip hard enough to keep from laughing, Callie began to taste the telltale salty metallic of her folly.
"WELCOME, ONE AND ALL, TO CIRQUE DE GRAVITE!!"
The crowd roared with excitement as the show they had all been waiting for was introduced and mere seconds away from starting. As the music began, the performers rushed out onto the stage from their respective waiting places in the first costumes of the night. The majority had been aerial arts of one form or another, though those that were floor-bound still rolled out their giant hoops and other props used in their acts. Callie had to admit that she did think the costumes were fabulous, if not a bit longer than the normal lengths she had been used to wearing. The soft, almost weightless blue silk had caressed the back of her calves as she daintily ran behind Hamish in his silken slacks. Their costumes matched in colours that moved like the crystalline blue waters they were trying to mimic. The frothy white at the top depicted the foam of the tides that tickled the shorelines of the ocean, down to the rich dark blues one would imagine awaiting them at the deeper ends. Her pointe shoes had been dyed the darkest hue, though as the light shined down upon her, they looked almost violet-blue. Hamish's colours matched from the waist down, but that was where his costume had ended. Meredith, the costume designer felt the almost 'Magic Mike' attire would draw more... 'Fans'.
"ON THE AERIAL STRAPS... MISS CALIOPE STANHOP AND HAAAAAMISH HAAAAASSSELLBEERRG-ah!"
With an en pointe pirouette and a wink at Hamish for the way he had been announced, knowing that he hated it when Stephan would do that, she felt her nerves begin to ease. Only just a bit. Through a perfectly posed smile, Callie couldn't resist a poorly ventriloquist attempt at mimicking Stephan's opening line. "The show must go on."
"Can it, or I'll drop you," Hamish retorted in the same manner, not knowing that his remark stirred the butterflies to life in the pit of her stomach.
"I'll sue thanks to all of the witnesses in the crowd," she said as she grasped his hands, preparing for the lifted handstands before their exit.
"Good luck pointing one out, Cal," he said as he lifted her above his head.
The dismount was spot on, thankfully he had remembered that her toes were currently encased in a manmade torture device and had set her gently to the floor. The twosome jaunted off to their exit to await their marks and take their turn in the air and spotlight.
The Performance
"AND NOW, EARTH DWELLERS," the sound of Stephan's voice brought her thoughts back to the present. "FOR OUR FINAL ACT... THE ARTFUL AND ELEGANT... AERIAL STRAPS!"
Dancing en pointe had been a little easier now that she had time in between appearances to bounce the stiffness out of them, but waltzing whilst en pointe had been a nightmare. 'I am definitely calling dibs on the ice bath after this,' Caliope thought to herself, as the music began to play, cueing the pain. Hamish's body moved as though it were made of nothing but the liquid they were waltzing to, extending the graceful sways, practically carrying her as he tread across the stage to the dangling straps.
He raised her as if she weighed nothing at all, graceful flexes of his shirtless flesh tantalized the ladies, and men, close enough to the stage. Slipping her wrists into the holes and securing her grip, he released her and spun her around to help her gain momentum. The straps raised, pulling her out of his reach and her solitary moment on the straps aided in learning how to manoeuvre the fabric of her costume's skirt. It felt as though she had only been in the air for a moment when she felt the lowering of the straps, indicating time to loosen the one on the right for Hamish to use.
'Almost the end... Almost...'
The music and sounds of the crowd didn't seem to register as the pull of the skirt and the sound of tearing filled her ears. She went into a panic, breaking character to warn Hamish of what was about to happen. She was sure when he felt the thin silk give, that he was aware as well. there had been no safety net installed since it seemed more 'death defying' in the presentation. At that moment, she wished the crowds would have understood why it would have been beneficial. Hamish's hand had been accidentally wrapped in the bottom of the silken skirt during one of the handled splits, during which time, his fingertips had been wrapped around her ankle, allowing the silk to betray them both.
The final thread holding the skirt and her partner snapped and the world stopped. Having been higher than their normal two and a half metres, Caliope knew that Hamish was in trouble and she had wished with all of her might that she could turn back the hands of the clock and refuse to wear that costume. The crowd's sharp intake of breaths and screams seemed to wake Cali from her momentary stupor as she felt her feet lower onto the ground about 5 metres later.
"Get back!" Stephan yelled to a few of the performers that ran out onto the stage where he had landed. Hard. "Damn it! I SAID GET BACK!"
As one would suspect with anything to do with arenas and aerial arts, there were always paramedics or some sort of E.M.T. on standby just in case of situations like the one everyone found themselves witnessing. Cali tried to rush over and managed to make it as far as Stephan since the lift operator had been instructed to move the lines away from the scene. She was strong but she was smaller than Stephan who managed to hold her back, closing his arms around her, pulling her into an almost hug to calm her struggle.
"I need to know, Steph! I know it was my fault! I need to kn--"
"Shhh," he cooed into her hair, his forced embrace loosening only a fraction when he could feel how hard she was shaking. "He's alive, Cal. He'll live... He's alive..."
To be Continued...
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