Post by littlesongbird on Sept 28, 2011 18:25:05 GMT -8
Thank the Everlasting Cat that it was the weekend and that her services were not needed until later that afternoon. That gave her a good bit of the morning to herself and she was going to enjoy her little bit of time to herself. She hummed to herself as she quietly sat on the bench, reading over her book. Her dark eyes would chance a glance up every now and again before she returned her attention to the book. Thankfully, the cover was scuffed up enough so it would not be easy to see that the book was not something a maid would be reading, let alone owning due to the cost. It was a prized treasure of hers, something she had bought whilst in France - a book with the music from her last season at the Palais.
Lise set the book down for the moment on her lap and tilted her head back as she thought. That encounter with the desk clerk had left her more then a little shaken but she was going to try and not show how much it bothered her. She brought her left paw up, and massaged her left temple. Okay, there was nothing she truly could do about the desk clerk knowing that she was an opera singer (former, she mentally amended) - and so far, Mssr Hollister seemed unaware (for however long that would last).
She picked her book up again, attempting to read it - even if she was still stuck on that same page for the last little while. Why did the Italian always seem to want to give her trouble these days? She let out an aggravated sigh and closed the book for a moment. She tapped her foot absently, her leg bouncing just a little. Verdi had never been this difficult for her. (Of course, the last time she ever bothered with Verdi was back in France, and that was during the brief run of Aida - that is, if you counted a month of getting Ritorna vincitor! stuck in your head brief). Perhaps her years away from the operatic world were catching up to her, what a depressing thought that was.
She sighed softly and picked her book back up, flipping to a different section. 'Hm,' she thought as she glanced at the selection. 'Ah, Puccini,' she thought, pleased and settled back to read. She smothered a groan as she saw where she had flipped to - of course, the opera that revealed her training to the desk clerk. She turned the page, annoyed at the reminder of what had caused her to be so agitated. 'Few more pages,' she thought, trying to get through the whole Gianni Schicchi section. 'There, finally,' she thought, sighing with relief to get past that current thorn in her side (as much as she loved that opera, the last thing she needed to do was tempt fate even moreso). Her eyes alit on a particular aria (one that she had just begun to learn) and she quietly hummed the melody before quietly singing it, her eyes closing as she lost herself in the music.
"Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore, non feci mai male ad anima viva! Con man furtiva quante miserie conobbi aiutai. Sempre con fè sincera la mia preghiera ai santi tabernacoli salì. Sempre con fè sincera diedi fiori agli altar. Nell'ora del dolore perché, perché, Signore, perché me ne rimuneri così? Diedi gioielli della Madonna al manto, e diedi il canto agli astri, al ciel, che ne ridean più belli. Nell'ora del dolore, perché, perché, Signore, ah, perché me ne rimuneri così?"
She startled, her ears flicking back as she thought she heard something. Her eyes slowly opened and she blinked, once, twice at the sight of the tom before her. Qui? Quoi? "Bonjour?" she ventured lamely, startled enough that she couldn't pull her thoughts together quickly enough to form proper English words and or sentences.
((OOC: The woman in the linked video is Maria Callas - one of my favorite operatic sopranos. A quick synopsis of the aria is "I have lived for art, I have lived for love. I devoted my life, my song to you, and this is what I get as my reward, O Lord?" If you watch this video, you can see it with subtitles: www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYG5wtRWT0E The gentleman with her is Tito Gobbi, in the role of Scarpia. For those curious to see why Tosca is so upset about being with Scarpia, www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3McP88FGHo - Scarpia during the Te Deum. Who really, really is reminding me of Bustopher with how utterly evil he is.))
Lise set the book down for the moment on her lap and tilted her head back as she thought. That encounter with the desk clerk had left her more then a little shaken but she was going to try and not show how much it bothered her. She brought her left paw up, and massaged her left temple. Okay, there was nothing she truly could do about the desk clerk knowing that she was an opera singer (former, she mentally amended) - and so far, Mssr Hollister seemed unaware (for however long that would last).
She picked her book up again, attempting to read it - even if she was still stuck on that same page for the last little while. Why did the Italian always seem to want to give her trouble these days? She let out an aggravated sigh and closed the book for a moment. She tapped her foot absently, her leg bouncing just a little. Verdi had never been this difficult for her. (Of course, the last time she ever bothered with Verdi was back in France, and that was during the brief run of Aida - that is, if you counted a month of getting Ritorna vincitor! stuck in your head brief). Perhaps her years away from the operatic world were catching up to her, what a depressing thought that was.
She sighed softly and picked her book back up, flipping to a different section. 'Hm,' she thought as she glanced at the selection. 'Ah, Puccini,' she thought, pleased and settled back to read. She smothered a groan as she saw where she had flipped to - of course, the opera that revealed her training to the desk clerk. She turned the page, annoyed at the reminder of what had caused her to be so agitated. 'Few more pages,' she thought, trying to get through the whole Gianni Schicchi section. 'There, finally,' she thought, sighing with relief to get past that current thorn in her side (as much as she loved that opera, the last thing she needed to do was tempt fate even moreso). Her eyes alit on a particular aria (one that she had just begun to learn) and she quietly hummed the melody before quietly singing it, her eyes closing as she lost herself in the music.
"Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore, non feci mai male ad anima viva! Con man furtiva quante miserie conobbi aiutai. Sempre con fè sincera la mia preghiera ai santi tabernacoli salì. Sempre con fè sincera diedi fiori agli altar. Nell'ora del dolore perché, perché, Signore, perché me ne rimuneri così? Diedi gioielli della Madonna al manto, e diedi il canto agli astri, al ciel, che ne ridean più belli. Nell'ora del dolore, perché, perché, Signore, ah, perché me ne rimuneri così?"
She startled, her ears flicking back as she thought she heard something. Her eyes slowly opened and she blinked, once, twice at the sight of the tom before her. Qui? Quoi? "Bonjour?" she ventured lamely, startled enough that she couldn't pull her thoughts together quickly enough to form proper English words and or sentences.
((OOC: The woman in the linked video is Maria Callas - one of my favorite operatic sopranos. A quick synopsis of the aria is "I have lived for art, I have lived for love. I devoted my life, my song to you, and this is what I get as my reward, O Lord?" If you watch this video, you can see it with subtitles: www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYG5wtRWT0E The gentleman with her is Tito Gobbi, in the role of Scarpia. For those curious to see why Tosca is so upset about being with Scarpia, www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3McP88FGHo - Scarpia during the Te Deum. Who really, really is reminding me of Bustopher with how utterly evil he is.))
