8th of Spring, 514 AV
15th Bell
15th Bell
Ah, acting, this time in warmer weathers.
Spring had just sprung, and Alia was fully ready to welcome the sunshine and flowers that came with it. Out with the snow, in with the... Rain.
In the first few days of spring, not only had it rained so much it seemed as if the skies had simply saved all the tears from the years before just to open the clouds and pour all of it down on the youngest days of spring, but both the upper and lower tiers of Riverfall, or at least what Alia knew of it, had been flooded.
Riverfall had turned into just that, a river. What was worse was that the path to the amphitheater Jorin had shown her so long ago had been covered in dark, sickly mud. It had been horrible marching through all of that just for the sake of a stage, and even then the semi-circle acting pedestal had been nearly overtaken by water. It was if the stage was an island, sitting in the center of a freshwater ocean.
Alia had bought high rain boots and a waterproof scroll case just for the sake of her acting, using the boots to, in theory, get to the outdoor stage without getting wet, plus the scroll case to carry her script. For once, she had left her inspiration notebook at home, not wanting to risk getting it wet. Had the book fallen in water, there would have been no replacement, and she would have never forgiven herself.
Wading through the water and hastily climbing onto the stage, Alia shook out the liquid that had sloshed into her boots. She hadn't bothered to wear socks that day, so her feet being wet wasn't the end of the world. However, she didn't like the fact that she had to constantly roll up the wide-flared Bryda she had worn in order to save the cloth from being soiled in the murky water. The rain had made the air extremely humid, and the cold winter days seemed years away from rainforest- like weather that Alia had experienced in the beginning of spring.
For the first time since she had left Wind Reach, the Inartan-turned-actor had worn her Vinati outside without a coat. Alia hadn't realized how much she missed the half-shirt, and it was a welcomed change to her bulky coat. Giving her boots one last shake, Alia slipped them back on and breathed in the refreshing smell of fresh rain, one of Alia's favourite scents.
Once everything was dry, or at least not waterlogged, Alia took the scroll case off her shoulder and opened it up, careful to step away from the stage - or more accurately, island - edge. She took out the first page of her freshly printed script, eagerly skimming over the lines. It seemed that she didn’t have many, with once again the majority of her lines being short, almost meaningless, sentences. It was if the stagemaster enjoyed placing her in a roll that was nearly important, but ended up dying halfway through the play. It was infuriating sometimes, though Alia suspected he didn’t do it on purpose. No one went to such lengths to be that annoying.
Laying down the scrollcase underneath her feet so it didn’t roll away, Alia shuffled through the papers and began at the beginning of the script, mumbling through the first lines but building up to a greater extent of emotion. It seemed her character, Islini, her name seemed to be (and a strange one at that), was a Reminancer, a fire one, to be specific. The woman had walked in on her husband, the main character in the play, with another woman. That was where the monologue started.
Alia chuckled softly, much of the scripts she had read seemed to have entirely or at least partially overdone personalities and reactions to what happened in the acts. A man dies? Murder. Someone disappears? Witches. Your husband cheats on you? Burn him on sight, of course. It was ridiculous.
Alia began her part at the line just after the beginning of the scene were Islini walked into the room, a few curses were exchanged, then the shouting began.
”Hear me, you snake! Have ye cheated thy wife before? Hear, Husband! I'll curse you, curse you with fire! May the eternal fire burn ye well!"
May the eternal fire burn ye well? Supposedly, this was dramatic. It sounded however, quite overdone. Then again, critiquing the play was not her job, even though Alia was expected to act in it.
According to the script, after she finished her lines, someone offstage would do something to make it look like Alia was actually reminancing fire. That "something", however, was unknown to the actress. Dropping out of the act just long enough to think over what her "Husband" would say during the silence, Alia pretended the man was next to her, reading his lines as well.
Curse me not, wife, for my heart beats only for you. Curse me not, wife, for I have eyes only for you. Curse me not, as you do not see what is really happening.
It seemed like the main character had less lines in this act than Alia. Wasn't the whole point of main characters that they talked a lot? Sure, Alia had the majority of the lines in this scene, but only that scene. In most of the other acts, Alia was simply thrown in the background. The main character, however, was supposed to speak the most, wasn't he?
Shaking her head, Alia continued her lines, "Do not bother me with excuses! You have eyes for others, and your heart is impure! Be gone, serpent!"
Swinging her arms out forcefully, as if casting a fireball, just as the script demanded, Alia concluded the scene. The story would go on to say that the husband would escape, but his lover and his wife both perished when the fire went astray and lit the house. This would be the first scene Alia had a lot of lines in, but it would also be the last one of hers in the play. Of course, she hadn't read all of her lines. Alia enjoyed reading the exciting parts first, to make sure she got a feel for her character. Anyways, trying to memorize only a few lines at a time was much more efficant than attempting to remember them all.
Slipping the script back into the scroll case it came in, Alia took a break to dip her waterproofed feet into the flood water, splashing several drops of the murky water up onto the stage. A rest was definitely in order. The skies were clouded and grey, threatening to pour down once again just to make the already saturated city wetter, though the air still remained warm. Alia wished it wouldn't pour down on her while she was out. She liked the rain, but not when it flooded absolutely everything.
Spring had just sprung, and Alia was fully ready to welcome the sunshine and flowers that came with it. Out with the snow, in with the... Rain.
In the first few days of spring, not only had it rained so much it seemed as if the skies had simply saved all the tears from the years before just to open the clouds and pour all of it down on the youngest days of spring, but both the upper and lower tiers of Riverfall, or at least what Alia knew of it, had been flooded.
Riverfall had turned into just that, a river. What was worse was that the path to the amphitheater Jorin had shown her so long ago had been covered in dark, sickly mud. It had been horrible marching through all of that just for the sake of a stage, and even then the semi-circle acting pedestal had been nearly overtaken by water. It was if the stage was an island, sitting in the center of a freshwater ocean.
Alia had bought high rain boots and a waterproof scroll case just for the sake of her acting, using the boots to, in theory, get to the outdoor stage without getting wet, plus the scroll case to carry her script. For once, she had left her inspiration notebook at home, not wanting to risk getting it wet. Had the book fallen in water, there would have been no replacement, and she would have never forgiven herself.
Wading through the water and hastily climbing onto the stage, Alia shook out the liquid that had sloshed into her boots. She hadn't bothered to wear socks that day, so her feet being wet wasn't the end of the world. However, she didn't like the fact that she had to constantly roll up the wide-flared Bryda she had worn in order to save the cloth from being soiled in the murky water. The rain had made the air extremely humid, and the cold winter days seemed years away from rainforest- like weather that Alia had experienced in the beginning of spring.
For the first time since she had left Wind Reach, the Inartan-turned-actor had worn her Vinati outside without a coat. Alia hadn't realized how much she missed the half-shirt, and it was a welcomed change to her bulky coat. Giving her boots one last shake, Alia slipped them back on and breathed in the refreshing smell of fresh rain, one of Alia's favourite scents.
Once everything was dry, or at least not waterlogged, Alia took the scroll case off her shoulder and opened it up, careful to step away from the stage - or more accurately, island - edge. She took out the first page of her freshly printed script, eagerly skimming over the lines. It seemed that she didn’t have many, with once again the majority of her lines being short, almost meaningless, sentences. It was if the stagemaster enjoyed placing her in a roll that was nearly important, but ended up dying halfway through the play. It was infuriating sometimes, though Alia suspected he didn’t do it on purpose. No one went to such lengths to be that annoying.
Laying down the scrollcase underneath her feet so it didn’t roll away, Alia shuffled through the papers and began at the beginning of the script, mumbling through the first lines but building up to a greater extent of emotion. It seemed her character, Islini, her name seemed to be (and a strange one at that), was a Reminancer, a fire one, to be specific. The woman had walked in on her husband, the main character in the play, with another woman. That was where the monologue started.
Alia chuckled softly, much of the scripts she had read seemed to have entirely or at least partially overdone personalities and reactions to what happened in the acts. A man dies? Murder. Someone disappears? Witches. Your husband cheats on you? Burn him on sight, of course. It was ridiculous.
Alia began her part at the line just after the beginning of the scene were Islini walked into the room, a few curses were exchanged, then the shouting began.
”Hear me, you snake! Have ye cheated thy wife before? Hear, Husband! I'll curse you, curse you with fire! May the eternal fire burn ye well!"
May the eternal fire burn ye well? Supposedly, this was dramatic. It sounded however, quite overdone. Then again, critiquing the play was not her job, even though Alia was expected to act in it.
According to the script, after she finished her lines, someone offstage would do something to make it look like Alia was actually reminancing fire. That "something", however, was unknown to the actress. Dropping out of the act just long enough to think over what her "Husband" would say during the silence, Alia pretended the man was next to her, reading his lines as well.
Curse me not, wife, for my heart beats only for you. Curse me not, wife, for I have eyes only for you. Curse me not, as you do not see what is really happening.
It seemed like the main character had less lines in this act than Alia. Wasn't the whole point of main characters that they talked a lot? Sure, Alia had the majority of the lines in this scene, but only that scene. In most of the other acts, Alia was simply thrown in the background. The main character, however, was supposed to speak the most, wasn't he?
Shaking her head, Alia continued her lines, "Do not bother me with excuses! You have eyes for others, and your heart is impure! Be gone, serpent!"
Swinging her arms out forcefully, as if casting a fireball, just as the script demanded, Alia concluded the scene. The story would go on to say that the husband would escape, but his lover and his wife both perished when the fire went astray and lit the house. This would be the first scene Alia had a lot of lines in, but it would also be the last one of hers in the play. Of course, she hadn't read all of her lines. Alia enjoyed reading the exciting parts first, to make sure she got a feel for her character. Anyways, trying to memorize only a few lines at a time was much more efficant than attempting to remember them all.
Slipping the script back into the scroll case it came in, Alia took a break to dip her waterproofed feet into the flood water, splashing several drops of the murky water up onto the stage. A rest was definitely in order. The skies were clouded and grey, threatening to pour down once again just to make the already saturated city wetter, though the air still remained warm. Alia wished it wouldn't pour down on her while she was out. She liked the rain, but not when it flooded absolutely everything.
