Solo [The Amphitheater] ...Oops

[Alia Beaudouin]

35th of Summer, 514

This was very, very, very not good.
Very, very, very, very, very not good.
Alia had done a lot of not-good things in her life, but this was way up there.
She was late.
To a performance.

Alia had done everything late that day. She had woken up late, gone for her walk late, skipped breakfast all together, and had gotten lunch literally a bell before the performance was meant to begin. This was not how her day was supposed to go at all. After her short lunch of half an hour, Alia had taken another fifteen chimes searching for her bag after leaving it somewhere in the restaurant. She now had fifteen chimes to get the Amphitheater, dress in her costume, and get the hai onstage.

Not exactly the best schedule, especially since Alia was now rushing down the covered path towards the Amphitheater, bag full of clothes and mind full of swears. This was not going to look good when she arrived, and the costume she had to wear for the play; An almost full-length dress, was quite possibly the most annoying thing Alia had ever worn, albeit pretty. The sleeves were itchy, the collar was tight, but that’s the price you pay in acting. Become your character and like it, or you don’t work anymore.

As she rushed towards the Amphitheater, Alia took the time to think over her life decisions. An appropriate thing to do, at the time. It took her mind off imagining all the things the stagemaster would yell at her, with his no-tolerance rule for ‘Slacking off’, also known as being late in any way, shape or form. She thought about how much she really loved her job, instead of how much she loved acting. They were two separate things, really.

She loved the thrill of being onstage, in the spotlight, but hated the pressure that came with it. She loved how she was paid to do what she loved, but hated the complications that came when weather, sickness, or really just a bad day got in the way. There was an entire list of what she did and didn’t like, yet she couldn’t decide what to put in either. Her thoughts were just as complicated as acting itself, albeit less interesting.

Alia’s thoughts dragged her on, and eventually, dragged on her concentration. Not the best idea, when running through a tunnel. Or, at least, groups of trees that practically formed a tunnel. She had let go of the skirt of her costume at least a chime ago, not realizing until then that the dress was dragging along the ground. Alia only noticed the trailing fabric when it caught on a sapling, dragging her backwards.

Or rather, dragging the sapling forwards.
Through the dress.

The horrible riiip of fabric was almost as horrible as the sound of all Alia’s hopes being torn with the flimsy material of the dress. The stagemaster was going to kill her. Not only was she late, but she was only half costumed, had a deformed dress, and was all around unready for the play. As if the day couldn’t have gotten worse, it did.

Picking up the mop of fabric as quickly as she could, Alia tried to place the strip that was torn off back in place, to no avail. She didn’t have any string or needles, nevermind any sewing experience. There was no way she could fix it.
Well, isn’t today going great?

What could she do? Tape it back together and pray no one noticed? The dress wasn’t even on straight, so what was supposed to be the back would actually be in full view during performance. When Alia screwed up, she screwed up badly.
Really, really badly.

[Alia Beaudouin]

By now, Alia had given up all hope of fixing the dress, instead focusing on getting to the Amphitheater on time… Sort of. She had exactly five bells to get to the Amphitheater, get on stage, do her lines, and get the heck offstage to be yelled at by the stagemaster.
It wasn’t something she was looking forward to.
Picking up the pace again, this time scooping up the hem of her costumed dress to prevent future… Mishaps, Alia continued on her way.

As she half-ran half-speed walked to her work, Alia thought about what she would do, should the stage master really go so far as to fire her. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d been late, although it had been the most severe case. She’d missed an entire scene once before, only to find the stagemaster had no trouble sending in an understudy for her. It had been humiliating, having arrived, all dressed up, only to be turned away. If the understudy was already on stage, you didn’t bring back the original. She had sat out that play, the whole time her cheeks burning from shame. It hadn’t been her best day.

It was like being a scolded child, told to go sit in the corner while someone replaced them in whatever game they were playing. Most of the time, that game was pretend.
Really, acting was just a game of pretend. Pretend you’re a knight in shining armor, a fierce Zith destroying a village, a ruler, a slave, anything. It all depended on the story.
In all reality, actors could be one of two things. They could be storytellers, weaving tales of great heroic acts with their movements, their lines. Or, they could be puppets, moved by the story instead of moving the story themselves. Dragged by strings, unable to tell their own stories.

Alia hadn’t quite worked out what she was yet.

Was she the young child, playing a game with her friends, a puppet, pulled by strings, or the great storyteller she was expected to be? Alia knew what she wanted to be, but didn’t know what she had achieved. Sure, her acting skills were improving, she no longer overacted, underacted, forgot to change face, etc. Everything was in balance.
...Kind of.

Sure, her acting had improved, but her organization skills and ability to actually arrive to work on time weren’t the best. Which was especially bad when the stage master was your boss. In all truth, Alia didn’t even know if the man had anything he did like. Or, really, anything about him.
Alia literally knew nothing about her boss. Favourites, family, even race, really, though she guessed human. He had never been fond of many of the actors, especially the novice or new ones, though that wasn’t always a solid rule. Jorin had been one of the best actors, yet the stagemaster had straight up fired him.

It seemed the man was more tethered to his emotions than his logic. If he really thought things through, instead of acting on demand and on instinct, Alia suspected the Amphitheater would do much greater business. Speaking of which, the stagemaster still expected her to hand out flyers for the next performance. Dance of the Spirits. Not the most action-filled name, but Alia supposed it would sell. To the women of Riverfall, at least.

As her thoughts dragged her farther from the miniature adventure at hand, Alia reminded herself what happened last time she was distracted. With the trailing skirt behind her being evidence. Once the Amphitheater came into sight, she began working on excuses. Attacked by a wild animal? Tripped and fell? Got sick?
She may be an actress, but she was far from a good liar.

[Alia Beaudouin]

Ah, the Riverfall Amphitheater.
Where dreams were made and hopes were crushed.
At least, that was how it was currently for Alia.
She must have looked absolutely horrid, after running way too quickly down the path to the Amphitheater, along with being in a state of I-Have-No-Petching-Idea-What-I’m-Doing. It wasn’t the best look for Alia, but as she approached the Amphitheater cast and crew, she tried to make the most of not looking like an idiot.

It didn’t pay off.

”Beaudouin! Where the hai have you been?”

It seemed the stagemaster had noticed her quickly, though he hadn’t noticed the quite obvious tear in her dress quite yet. It seemed, though, that they had been waiting on her, and obviously were not happy about it. Though the majority of the actors were already setting up on stage, the stagemaster and the rest of the actors and actresses were standing behind stage, angrily glaring at a certain red-haired woman.

Yes, this was not her best day.

”I… Uhm… I can explain… I…” Lie, or tell the truth? It wasn’t as if it would make a difference. In all reality, nothing would make a difference. Sighing, Alia gave up. "...Oops?"

The best excuse she could possibly have thought up. Alia thought sarcastically, ”oops.”
Apparently, the stagemaster didn’t take her failed attempt at a humourous excuse well. She swore he would have physically hit her, should there not be people around. For now, though, he simply turned red. A very, very deep red.

For several ticks he didn’t speak, and for several ticks the actors and actresses standing around him dissolved off into the crowd. They went off to do their jobs, either warm up for the few chimes that remained before the play, or help set up the props onstage. Already, early watchers of the play were beginning to arrive, an indication that they didn’t have much time to lose. After a quick look at the patrons, the stagemaster seemed to think twice about getting into an all out screaming match.

Instead, he screamed quietly. The large man stepped down from the stage where he had been standing, getting close enough to Alia to practically breath down her neck.
”The show, Miss Alia, is about to start, and you have the audacity to arrive, late, with no excuse other than oops?!”

This conversation was not going well for Alia, though she tried not to express any emotion about it.

”And, as you may remember, Beaudouin...” He spat her name out like poison. With the way he said it, Alia almost believed that he knew it wasn’t truly her name. Which it wasn’t, but that was beside the point right now. ”This is not the first time you’ve slacked on duties…”

Alia almost felt insulted at that. The last time, and only time, she had been late was when the stagemaster had moved the scheduled time of the play backwards, so when Alia arrived at the regular time of performance, the play had already begun. That hadn’t been her fault, had it?

”You need to learn to clean up your act, and this is the absolute last time I am allowing such laziness. Get to work.”

[Alia Beaudouin]

Well, that had gone better than expected.
Alia hadn’t been fired, hadn’t been shouted at, and hadn’t been insulted… Much. Maybe her luck for the day was turning around. Maybe she wouldn’t have such a hard time today after all…
”Move it, Beaudouin!”
Scratch that, the day was still bad. Just a little less horrible.

She still wondered why he called her by her last name all the time. It wasn’t as if it was truly hers, it was just borrowed. She had never flown a Beaudouin eagle, therefor Beaudouin was not truly her name. In all truth, it was her mother’s name, but when she had been asked for a last name when first coming to Riverfall, she had panicked. Sure, it probably would have been best to claim her father’s name, not her mother’s, but it didn’t really matter now anyways. It was written in the Riverfall Citizen Registry. Her surname was Beaudouin, whether she liked it or not.

Sighing, Alia turned her thoughts back to the task at hand; Acting. The play wasn’t going to start itself, after all. Realizing how close to showtime they were, Alia once again picked up her pace. It seemed the stagemaster hadn’t seen the tear in her costume, but that didn’t mean no one would notice it. For now, she kept her hand over the torn cloth, holding up the strips that would otherwise fall to the ground and expose the layers underneath the frilly top of the dress.

As she made her way around behind the stage, in the small area that was just barely shielded from the audience’s prying eyes, Alia nearly ran over one of the other actors. Unfortunately, it seemed the woman didn’t take kindly to being bulldozed over.
”Hey- Watch it!”

Her tone wasn’t mean, par say, it was just… Annoyed. It seemed she had seen Alia being scolded by the stagemaster as well, which didn’t help. Picking herself up from the collision, Alia put her hand out to the small Konti she had run over. Racking her brain for a name, Alia helped the woman up. She couldn’t quite remember the woman’s name, but it wasn’t as if it mattered. The woman half-stormed half-strided off, and Alia was left with the sense of emptiness. It seemed as if everyone was mad at her, for some reason or another.

Mumbling an apology for the woman who had already left, Alia began her way towards the stage, hoping she didn’t look like too much of a train wreck. She would find out either way, eventually. Someone had to tell her, didn’t they?

Turning her mind back to the acting at hand, Alia thought over her lines, and the play in general. Alia performed in many of the scenes, though she worked mostly as a background character. In a few of the scenes, though, she had quite the part. Her character was a girl named Mia, who, at first, worked as a maid, before catching the eye of a wealthy jewelcrafter, who, in the end, she married. It was all very overdone, much like many other romantic plays Alia knew, but it would attract the women of Riverfall, and whoever they dragged along with them.

Taking a look over the audience, Alia breathed a sigh of relief. Not many of the seats were full quite yet, so there was a reason for the stagemaster not going full-out on her. She hadn’t technically been late, as no one had been at the Amphitheater to watch the play yet. Alia silently praised the gods for helping her in not being fired. For now, at least.
Not that it would help much if the stagemaster saw the state of her dress.

She still had to somehow fix the obnoxious tear that stayed prominent in the actress’s costume, or else face the stage with a tattered look, when her character was meant to be dressed in jewels. Quite literally. The man that had taken an eye to her character in the play was a man of fine jewels, after all. It wasn’t surprising that he dress his lover in the utmost finery, even if it was the flimsiest thing Alia had ever worn.

In any light, it seemed she had gotten away with her plights for now, at least until showtime. She had at least five chimes to fix the cloth before she was called onstage. That was plenty of time, right?
Right?

[Alia Beaudouin]

Five chimes went by a lot faster when you were rushing.
Which, Alia knew now, was not the best.
She had tied the torn strip of fabric back onto the dress, not exactly fixing it but making it a tad less conspicuous. It still looked quite out of place, and it was obvious that it had been ruined if one looked at it for more than a tick, but at least the fabric wasn’t trailing behind her. She wasn’t exactly going for the most realistic fix, but it would do for now.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she had any more time to fiddle with it.

The stagemaster had already announced the ten chime point, five chime point, one chime point. The show was starting, and it was nearly Alia’s turn to get on stage. What was worse was that she wasn’t just going to be on stage once, oh no, not like her previous performances, or really, all of her performances. She was going to be on stage for nearly the entirety of the play. She had finally gotten the leading female role in a play, and suddenly everything was absolutely, positively, dreadfully wrong.

Mia, Alia’s character, would be present in the first few scenes, though she didn’t say much. The dress Alia was wearing now was supposedly a ballgown for the ball an important member of the society had announced. She wondered just how a ‘maid’ would get ahold of such a dress, but one didn’t question a play’s logic. The first scene was the ball, where the leading man, one of the Akalak actors, a man named would start off the play. The leading man was the one who had organized the ball, a rich jewelcrafter named Keegan.

That was who was standing on the semicircle stage at the moment, the lead actor, the Akalak named Keenaye, was beginning his lines in the spotlight. In the act, he was speaking to the other men attending the ball, discussing the food, the scenery, whether the party had met perfection, or if something was wrong. It was really a pointless scene, in Alia’s opinion, but she supposed it did it’s purpose. It introduced the leading man, and the secondary actors with him.

Positioning herself just off stage slightly, so to be out of view of the audience, but still close enough to see what was going on, Alia sighed. Maybe if she faced one side of the stage for the entire performance, no one would notice. Then again, at one point, she was supposed to be falling into the arms of the leading actor, so there wasn’t much she could do about that if she tried to face a wall the entire time.

Soon enough, the first act was over, and it was Alia’s time to shine. Or fail. Whichever came first.

[Alia Beaudouin]

Alia stepped onstage hesitantly, having her first bound of stage fright in quite a while. The tear in her dress was safely concealed on the side facing away from the audience, as to not draw too much attention, but it wasn’t completely hidden. She was deathly nervous of the stage for the first time in seasons, as if she’d never performed before. Unfortunately, she had performed before, and was therefore expected to act as such.

Walking awkwardly into her position, Alia proceeded to act her part, which wasn’t exactly much. Meander around stage, sometimes pausing to look at the leading actor, who was presently throwing his lines out confidently in center-stage.
Oh, how Alia wished she was playing that part instead of her own.
Even if it was a male part, she would have enjoyed it. Especially since male parts tended to avoid frilly, flowing dresses like what Alia had to wear.

As the first scene finally concluded after what seemed like bells, Alia shuffled offstage awkwardly, eager to escape the spotlight. One more scene, in which Alia didn’t perform, and then it was her big part. Big part being the part in which she made a complete fool of herself, most likely.

The next scene passed quickly, and soon enough, the stage master was doing that strange thing with his hands, where he waved them around wildly at the actors and actresses who were up for the next scene. It seemed like the more veteran Amphitheater patrons and workers paid this movement no heed, but Alia could tell that the stagemaster was causing quite a disturbance in the crowd tonight. The people around him must have been newcomers to the stage, as it seemed like they were unaware that he was in charge of the act, angrily scowling at the man as if he was getting in their way. Which he was, though he didn’t seem to realize it.

Alia shook her head, amused, and ignored the hand gestures towards her and a handful of other actors. She knew she was up next; They all knew, that was why they were clustered just so, off to the side of the stage. Waiting. Listening. Fretting. The latter seemingly only in Alia’s case. She held her hand down at her side, bunching up the torn fabric of her dress in her hands. The gesture helped marginally to hide the tear, but she knew she couldn’t keep her hand there forever.

All she could do was hope that no one noticed the imperfection as she acted.

Once the scene had officially come to a close, Alia stepped onstage, the first of two other actresses who were acting as visitors to the “ball” the lead actor had arranged. Immediately, the group of actors and actresses snapped into their places, with Alia being no exception. The only difference was that Alia had her hand to her side, clutching the fabric of her dress. With any luck, she wouldn’t gain too many stares, though she knew hoping for none was too much to ask for.