Once appon a Time...

♦//♦Please, let ME sew for you...♦//♦

Once appon a time, there was a little girl who sewed:
with her father, for the Opera. It was the year 1902, and all the world was reaching a new era. This little girl was about nine, but she could pull together any outfit imaginable. She was known far and wide as a seamstress prodigy, and was sought after by the best clothing shops in Paris, but she loved her father, and would not leave. Once in a while, she dropped her premature-adult nature and watched the dancers chalk up their slippers, and the singers swallow concoctions of all sorts to keep their voices up. every morning, before they were out of bed, before the sun came, she was already up with her father and preparing the order in whick the costumes would be worn. And she loved the boys, who were so kind, and gentle tward her. She was thin, and fragile, always getting sick, though she still worked. And she, without knowing it, had almost every boys heart wrapped around her callused fingers. But slowly, she faded into a wallflower, after her father left her at the age of thirteen, two years before the Prema's Death. And she was forgotten, though at least she grew a little strength. Only one boy seamed to care, and he was strong, and handsome. One of their only male ballerinas, and so very graceful at it... She could bot help but watch him for hours.


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[u]{♥...Please, let me play with you...♥}[/align]

[align=center]Once appon a time, a little boy worked:
Backstage in the Paris Opera house. He was young, maybe ten years of age. Every day, for a lower than poor salary, he would come to work. He would watch the ballerinas. This little boy grew, until one day... This little boy was sixteen. Every day, on his last month at the opera, this little boy would come and go. His arms and hands would be filled with dirt, and grime, and he never stopped watching the ballerinas. The Ballerina. This little boy loved her with all of his heart, and this little boy was caught. They told him he was bad, that he stole, and he was going away, as they ripped him from the stage, just as he was about to confront her about his feelings. He remembers, one day, when he was a child, how he had asked the little girl to play with him, please, just to play with him. How he implored her to let him touch her doll.The little boy remembers this, as the cops take him away, and no one hears from him again. Watching her dance, and dance, as if she cannot hear his screams at all. She had never let him even tough her doll...


{:☠:{Please, let me die for you...}:☠:}


Once appon a time, a little girl Sang:
Behind the curtains of the stage, where her Mama had her taking dancing lessons. Her cheeks would stain with tears as she bandaged her hands. Their Dance Instructor was merciless, and your hands were not needed for the steps. Hers, were covered with whip marks. Her lips would part with salt water, as she breathlessly sang along with the Prema-Donna, her small, frail voice begging the heavens to take her away. To allow her voice to sore. One day, the little girl grew up. This little girl became sixteen, herself, and was now the personal favourite of the Prema, herself. She was taught everything the woman knew, behind closed doors. And one night comes, when the Prema keeps the door closed. This little girl is filled with forbidden passions, and she comes back every night. Her emotions, torn, between the new found love of the Prema, and her longing for her Nephew. The little girl is a wonderful dancer now, and she is there on the night... The curtains were not secure, and she can do nothing but watch at the Prema dies, tragically. The little girl weeps..
Reserved for Lady Nightshade

(+(Please/Let/Me/Buy/For/You...)+)

Once appon a time, a little boy clapped:
At the beautiful performance brought to him, as he sat in the audience of the Paris Opera House. His Aunt, the Prema herself, was, as she deserved to be, the Star. This little boy was about twelve, in his right, and he loved to play tricks. One day, he went backstage, to scare off the little ballerinas, with their skinny little legs, He had a jar full of spiders, as his neat little 1900's style suit crouched with him. And he saw her... She was a beautiful little girl. His face got a look, his heart had never felt that way before. She was, indeed, the most lovely little girl. he put down the jar of spiders, and ran up to her. His demented little heart was filled with woe as he saw her hands. He had never bothered to speak to a girl before... His only words were something like 'suck it up and start dancing, wuss.' And than he smiled, trotting off and feeling triumphant. But the years came fast, and they grew older, and he wanted her more, and more.. But the Prema died, and so he left.. eighteen years old, and going to visit America. But he never stopped thinking about that girl.

,</★☆/>Please, let me Ðåñ¢ê with you...</☆★/>

Once appon a time, a little girl spun:
Around and around atop a beautifully lit stage. She, in her mind, was the new Prema Ballerina. Her talent excelled beyond the other little girls, as she played with her expensive, fine dolls that her Uncle, whom was a very rich Dutch Duke, had bought fir her. This little girl went to a ballet when she was a toddler, and decided she would be one, a Ballerina. She demanded of her Uncle to be enrolled, and though she was small, she was powerful. Her movements impressed the teachers, and her skill was evident. One day, a little boy wanted to play. He was flithy, and slouched like a commoner. She stuck her pure bread nose to him, and told him to run along with the other lads. She was too good for him. as the little girl grew, however, the boy didn't seam so bad... She watched him when she was resting, he was so strong.. But her future came first. She could care less about the boy, or so she thought. One day, he was taken away, and his screams made ehr want to cry, but she spun on. The show must go on.


♕||Please~Let~Me~ACT~For~You||♕

Oonce appon a time, a little boy stepped:

Onto center stage, amazed by the feel of being the main view of what could be the biggest audience around. He, and only three other boys were here for ballet, as well as acting. He was slender, and lean. Perfect. He kept his hair long, and dashing, and his legs pointed. He lived in a small, cooped up dorm, with those other boys, while the other ballerinas and workers either had larger, or just went home when the day was out. He, like every other child, was payed a small salary, and was left he as an orphan. These walls are al he knows, and the ballads are all he wants in life. His only friend, true and loyal, is a small, talented seamstress. Her father is nice, as well. But he runs off, and the two grow up... He is now a backup actor, and loves it with all of his heart. His voice, low and bass, completes the plays they put on. His ballet, not as developed, but wonderful none the less. His life is simple and circular, though he doesn't see that girl much any more...

...There was a Stage.

THIS THREAD IS NOW ACCEPTING!!!!

~.~.~†hê £åïr¥†ålê Ì §þêåk~.~.~
(Story/Plot)

Once appon a time, there was a Stage:
Filled with magic and wonder. This stage was/is the home of six children, who grew up, and have a story to tell. From 1902, to 1908, the year of the Prema's death, to now, 1918. Grown, and matured, let us finish the strories of these children, and create a new tale of the Paris Opera House, one to match The Phantom's himself. Weather you be a dancer, a singer, a clapper, a worker, a seamstress or actor. Come, and live your life, because Once appon a time, children had happy endings.


;";";"Låw§ ð£ ñ况rê";";";
(Rules)

¥ê §håñ†
♬Goddmodd.
♬Kill, without permission.
♬Make love- (In public. Cybering goes to PMs)
♬Give oneliners. Be literate.
♬Have more than one character.

¥ê §håll
♮Be romantic. This is a romance RP.
♮Post with your pic in the post.
♮Use a RL pic, only!
♮Post often. Once every other day, at least.
♮Understand that I can add rules.
♮Understand that if you mistreat the role play, you will be stripped of your character and it will be given to someone else. Doesn't matter if it is YOURS, you enter it here, it belongs to here.
♮Be as creative as you like!
♮Follow the TOS of Menewasha.

♥Lðvêl¥ Llê ÇhïlÐrêñ♥
(Profile Skels)

(picture, real life only, and try to match the 1900's era)
first★middle★last(name)
I am:(age)
I live the dream of a(n):(position, Ex: Actor, Ballerina)
I truly miss:(lover. for now, put N/A, if there is no answer)
But I move in with my life, by:(tallents, and likes.)
★
★
★
★
★
★
However, these bother me a lot:(dislikes, weaknesses, etc)
☆
☆
☆
☆
☆
☆

My life was something like this:(bio. Three paragraphs required.)
And don't tell, but:(a secret/other)
I oculd never be here without:(username)

♰ßrêåk å Lêg♰
(accepted profiles)


Anttoina★Elezabetta★LeVogh
I am:26
I live the dream of a(n):Ballerina/Singer
I truly miss:N/A
But I move in with my life, by:
★Practicing Singing
★Dreaming
★Dancing
★Visiting the Prema's grave, every sunday.
★Drawing
★Reading
However, these bother me a lot:
☆My slowly weakening ankles
☆Memories/nightmares
☆The Stage Workers
☆Guilt
☆The dark
☆Narrow Corridors

My life was something like this:
She was born, and raised to be a Ballerina. Her mother, God rest her soul, was a beautiful dancer, and pressured all three of her children to do so. Only Anttoina was good enough. And so, every ounce of pressure was placed on a frail little girl's shoulders. Day in and day out, practice practice, practice. But she wasn't so very good at it.

One day, in what seams like a lifetime ago, a boy told her to suck it up, and called her a wuss. She resented the boy, but it helped none the less. Her singing, however, became her shining glory. And, to her delight, The Prema took her as a pupil. One night however, the Prema made an advance. Anttoina was frozen, she couldn't move, the shock held her still. Night after night, it happened, until the girl was used to it. Until there was addiction. She resented the Prema, whenever she would go out with a male companion instead. The left wing, where all the ballerina's rested, and the fine gents came to court those girls who were old enough to be their daughters. The whole thing was horrible, in Anttoina's eyes.

She remembers The Night very well, when she had been about to land a plea, and that begin a small spin. The curtain snapped, and fell. She remembers that night, when her secret lover died. And he, the Nephew, her long time crush, could only give a cold look, and leave. He never even said goodbye.

Now, she still does ballet, but an accident happened a few days ago, she has not told anyone, but her ankles arn't the same. However, she is a main for almost every play they put on. Her voice has given her the fame or having her picture on the poster, on the newspaper that the little boys hand out for a small fee. She doesn't care for the fame, or the social life. She just wants to sing, sing appon that stage.
And don't tell, but:I love both sexes. I would surly be damned if the priests knew...
I could never be here without:Lady Von Nightshade

This RP will begin in one week.

Announcement!
This RP is in dire need of participants. Please, do not be shy!