Post by Mme Rébecca Giry on Aug 15, 2007 23:09:01 GMT -5
Rébecca Charlotte Seraphine Saoirse(SEER-sha) Giry
Known As:
Madame Rébecca Giry- Introduced As
Madame Giry, Rébecca - General
Rébecca, Becca, Réba, Charlotte- Close Friends
Rébecca, Becca, Réba, Sera, Saoirse, Charlotte, Lotte- Family, Best/Childhood Friends
Rébecca- Erik
Age:
36
Gender:
Female
Height:
5’4”
Weight:
127 lbs.
Appearance:
Madame Giry always looks a bit mysterious and alluring, and very secretive. Perhaps a bit forbidden and foreboding at times, but always very watchful. Her eyes are a bit strange, as they change colors in different light, the colors being green, grey, blue, and mixture of two or all three colors; they can be a bit disarming to strangers, and are very sharp, catching every detail, noting what most others miss.
Her face is framed by a fairly large mass of rather striking tresses, a mixture of brown, blonde, and auburn that’s slightly wavy when loose, which is not all that often. Normally her hair is pulled back into a braid, or swept into an up-do. Occasionally she will wear it down, and the effect on her features is impressive.
As women of the time go, Rébecca Giry is a bit taller than the average height, and lean. Her body, mainly her legs and torso, is still very well muscled and she’s quite strong. As for her dress, she wears tight corsets, as most do, with reasonably intricate bodices. She usually wears darker colors, with light or metallic stitching or trim. During rehearsal and at a few other times, she carries a wood staff that comes to about two inches below her hip bone. She wears several rings, each with its own significance, and every now and then a necklace aside from the one she always wears.
This necklace is on a rather long chain, and the pendant is made of opal. It’s normally kept tucked inside her dress. For balls and the such like, she has and wears rather grand gowns, with her hair in some special up do, or down and well brushed out. Her favorite is with it over one shoulder and pinned back at her nape with a barrette. Sometimes she’ll wear it like this even when not at events, as she enjoys the way it looks.
Personality:
Madame Giry is the eyes and ears of the opera house. She sees everything, she hears everything. And one shouldn’t be surprised if she speaks of something that there’s no way she should have heard or even know anything about. She knows just about all there is to about the passages and quirks of the opera house itself. She has even seen Erik’s underground lake and house, but she hasn’t crossed the lake or set foot in the house. She simply observes from afar, as usual. She usually keeps to herself, usually seeming very obstinate and mysterious. Which she is, for the most part. She is much the mother, but also very much the secret-keeper of the opera house and all who inhabit and pass through it. She has good friends, best friends, but she prefers not to get too close to most people.
She can be amazingly nice and you can feel completely secure with her, and then the next she’ll be making you feel like you’re getting closer and closer to somewhere you don’t want to be. She’s completely dependable in every way, and if you’re stuck, she’ll get you out of the rut in a flash. She’s good at understanding with people. Get on her bad side, though, and she’ll use all her subtleties to drive you mad. She’s also very protective of the opera’s biggest secret, or really, I suppose, enigma. She doesn’t like for people to know too much about Erik; she cares for him, and knows what could happen if too much is found out about him. She has noticed his new interest in Mademoiselle Daaè, and it worries her a bit, so she’s resolved to keep a close watch on the girl.
Madame Giry, at most times, simply holds an air reminiscent of quiet defiance. She’s a very stable and dependable person on the outside, and usually n the inside as well. She has her moments, though.. She’s the person most people go to for advice. Some good traits she holds include: determined and forceful; emotional and intuitive; powerful and passionate; exciting and magnetic. On her darker side however she can be resentful, compulsive and obsessive; secretive and obstinate. She can harness her abundant energy constructively, tempering her self-confidence with shrewdness and her ambition with magnanimity toward others provided they like them. As another character flaw, she can be blunt to those she dislikes to the point of outright cruelty. In fact, she is not above expressing vindictiveness in deliberate cruelty. She can be too demanding, too unforgiving of faults in others, and may extravagantly express her disgust in unreasonable resentment against their fellows. This is not showed outright of course, but in the subtle way she has about her, in words that are polite on the surface, but sting like venom underneath their outer shell. She does, however, make an excellent friend, provided that her companions do nothing to anger her or imply or make her feel as though either one of her dear secrets, daughter, ballet girls, or anything else she loves, is in danger. Part of the negative side of her nature is a tendency to discard friends once they cease to be useful, but she recognizes this, and fights this tendency; it rarely surfaces. Her sensitivity, together with a propensity for extreme likes and dislikes, make her quick to detect insult or injury to herself (often when none is intended) and easily aroused to ferocious anger. This may express itself in such destructive speech or action that she makes lifelong enemies by her outspokenness, for she finds it difficult not to be overly critical of anything or anyone to whom she takes a dislike.
Even when Madame Giry appears self-controlled and calm there is a seething intensity of emotional energy under the placid exterior. She is like the volcano not far under the surface of a calm sea; it may burst into eruption at any moment. But those of us who are particularly perceptive will be aware of the harnessed aggression, the immense forcefulness, magnetic intensity, and often strangely hypnotic personality under the tranquil, but watchful composure she has. In conventional social gatherings she is pleasant to be with, thoughtful in conversation, dignified, and reserved, yet affable and courteous; she possess penetrating eyes which make her shyer companions feel naked and defenseless before them. She’s creative and imaginative, perhaps overly so, and sees through people quite easily. She also believes in old superstitions, such as a relative will die if a bird flies into your window or door and dies as a result of it.
Wealth Status:
Middle Class
Occupation:
Ballet Mistress
Messenger between Erik and the managers/opera
Personal Posessions:
Mme Giry has many personal possessions, received as gifts, bought during her travels, and begotten other ways. Not all of them can be named, but a few rather important ones are;;
-x- A silver locket
-x- Her opal necklace
-x- A shawl received as a gift from Erik
-x- Book of pressed flowers
-x- Many books
-x- Jewelry, accessories, and other things from Europe, Russia, and the Orient
Pets:
Two cats, a fox, a tamed wolf, wolfhound, black panther sometimes used in shows, two horses, and a hawk. It may seem excisive, but not once you know Madame and her love of animals. All but the cats and fox are kept in a back room of the stables.
Family:
-x- D’Artagnan Giry, Father
-x- Brigitte Giry, Mother
-x- Meg Giry, Daughter
History:
Rébecca Giry was born to a high ranked officer of the king and a costumer of the operas. Her father, whom she loved very much, was killed in the line of duty when she was eleven, her mother dying soon afterwards of sickness. As an orphan, Rébecca didn’t know where to turn except the place where she’d been so many times with her mother. Collecting the very few things she wanted to take with her, she left the place she’d called home for so long, taking a carriage into the heart of Paris, to le Palais Garnier.
Rébecca was readily taken in, at the age of thirteen. The then-ballet mistress had seen her when she came to the opera with her mother, and had told her on several occasions that she had the build for of a ballerina and would do well to consider joining the ballet corps. She was moved into the dormitories, and put herself wholly into her dancing. This was, after all, what her life was now all about. One night threw everything a bit off-tilt, though.
Rébecca and several of her friends from the corps were permitted to go down to see the gypsies and their traveling circus while it was in town. She was entranced by the gypsies, their sleight of hand. She had always had a strange love for the darker, forbidden side of things, gotten thrills from it she knew she’d do well to ignore. She especially enjoyed a small show involving horses, which had much more to do with her love of the animal and not so much her interest in the people. Lastly, she and her friends went into a tent that had been labeled ‘The Living Corpse’. The cruel man and unfortunate boy that met their eyes amused Rébecca’s friends to no end. However, the display disgusted Rébecca; she found that her fingers had instinctively curled into fists and her eyes had grown dark and menacing. A canvas sack was over the boy’s head, but when it was removed to reveal his distorted features, Rébecca didn’t even flinch. She only silently cursed the world for its cruelty to defenseless things and prayed that such things did not continue to happen to happen.
Sitting through the show for her friend’s sakes, Rébecca was glad to leave with one last glance to the boy. Before leaving, though, she realized she had dropped something back inside the tent where the wretched man and his captive were. The thought of going back sickened her, but she knew she had to retrieve the item. She told her friends to return to the opera without her, promising she would be just fine making her way back by herself. They knew this was true; even at fifteen, Rébecca could take care of herself, and could somehow manage to talk her way out of just about anything if need be, and so they left her to go back to the tent to search for the lost item.
Upon returning to the tent, she found the boy standing above the body of what once was a cruel gypsy man. Apparently God had heard her earlier prayer. She was, obviously a bit shocked, but she didn’t let it show. The boy appeared to be her age, perhaps a year younger; it was a bit hard to tell with part of the boy’s face as mangled as it was, but she made out his age from his size, though he was obviously underweight, and the unharmed part of his face. When he looked over and saw that someone had walked in on him, they shared had a moment of panic, both frightened of being caught.
A few words between the two as Rébecca searched for her dropped article revealed that he wasn’t a bad person, and her instincts told her to trust him. Even more loudly, they told her he couldn’t stay here with the gypsies, lest they find out he was the one to kill the man, which they most certainly would.
And so, the boy, Erik, she had learned, went with her through back alleys until they arrived at the opera house. Using a concealed entrance she’d found when exploring, Rébecca led him down into the cellars. They managed to make something of a home for him in an old, forgotten room in the second cellar. She’d come and visit him often, after rehearsal, and she’d bring him food after meals. After a while, he was able to get his own, sneaking to the kitchens. They talked and visited; she shared with him songs and dances, while he performed his magic for her and told her stories of the places he’d been with the gypsies. They went on like this for quite a while before Erik told Rébecca that he would be leaving. This disappointed her and deeply saddened her, but she only nodded and said that he should get see something besides the dark and loneliness of the cellars.
Rébecca cried the day she found he’d finally left, but she threw herself back into her dancing even more than she had when she’d first arrived. She rose through the ranks of the ballet corps, finally taking the place of ballet mistress. She traveled now and then, here and there, all about the continent, always returning to the opera house and her girls, never forgetting about the boy she’d once saved.
So somewhere between there and here, Meg came along. That story is one Madame prefers to keep to herself, so I'll let you find out for yourself what happened. She raised her daughter with the other ballerinas in the corps, everything bussiness usual.
And then one night, without warning, a man stood in what her now her private quarters, which by that time reflected her eclectic good taste in décor. Alarmed at first, she soon found that it was her old friend. They reacquainted easily, as if they’d hardly parted at all. Erik returned to his old room in the third cellar for a while, but Rébecca suspected he wouldn’t remain there long. One night he came for her, waking her from her sleep and leading her down to the fifth cellar and showed her the house on the lake.
They still talk, meeting occasionally in one of the cellars. As was said, it’s much like before, except now Erik was making himself known to the opera and its managers. Rébecca became his familiar, giving the managers his letters and relaying information back and forth. She knows Erik well, and the former managers were very compliant after a demonstration of Erik’s temperament. He frightens her sometimes, but she doesn’t let it show. She always does her best to calm him, and he usually simmers down. She knows that, should his anger truly lash out, they could expect no less than a tragedy.
Now with, new managers, Rébecca Giry is having more trouble making them see the truth behind the rumors of the Opera Ghost. She does what she can, acting as his go-between, delivering letters and oral messages to the managers and the opera as a whole, but M. Firmin and M. Andre are having not of it as of yet, but she's determined to get them to recognize the Opera Ghost so that he himself doesn't get them to; she knows what that will be like. She has also noticed Erik’s newfound interest in Miss Daaé. While she has never said anything outright about it to Erik, when she catches him watching from the catwalk or one of his secret places, she always manages to catch his eye and give a very clear look of warning. She doesn’t want trouble for Christine or Erik, but it seems that that’s growing closer and closer to being inevitable.
Participate in the story of the Phantom? Of course
Sample Post:
Rébecca Giry put a hand to her head. Being the person she was, she was able to restrain herself from climbing onto the catwalks above the stage and dropping something onto Carlotta’s head, and had several times had to restrain others. That was one diva she’d like to see miss her mark. She’d been screaming all day, and as her small posse of servants had been sent off on some errand or another, she’d been sending others, even Mme. Giry’s ballet girls off to do her bidding.
Quite obviously, the ballet mistress had put a stop to things goings on once she found out about them, sending the diva off with several backstage workers who weren’t needed at that moment. Quite often, Rébecca Giry found that she was the only one doing anything to hold back the leading lady of the opera. This earned her a special spot on the list of people that Carlotta abhorred, but she paid no mind. She had better things to do than worry about some half-crazed woman twittering about like a hen. She knew for a fact that there were much better singers than Carlotta residing in the opera house.
In fact, at that moment Mme Giry’s eyes had come to rest on the woman who she felt far surpassed Carlotta, novice though she was. Mademoiselle Christine Daaè. Her eyes fell Meg next, and then on the maestro, who was giving sharp orders to the orchestra. The older woman sighed lightly, her eyes moving over the stage slowly, taking in details. She stood at the edge of the stage, just behind the open curtain. In her hand was a wooden staff; several rings decorated adorned her fingers, and she wore fairly plain black dress with silver trim and black boots. A pendant hung from her neck, and her hand came up briefly to finger it. They’d been rehearsing for the upcoming opera all day, and now the singers, dancers, and others helping were dispersing.
A few of the ballet girls were making their way toward their mistress, who was waiting rather patiently. The rest were still showing of ballet moves or congregating to whisper. While the crowd dissipated and the set was being moved, Mme Giry brought her staff down on the stage, drawing the attention of the ballet girls and just about everyone else. She spoke only to her girls, ignoring the rest, who had gone back to their business once they realized the woman was only talking to her young charges. She had a rather commanding presence, and even those new to the opera and its inner workings usually recognized this, and paid strict attention when she called for it.
Girls, back to the dormitories for the night after you’ve changed and removed your make up. I’ll be in later to make sure everyone is in their place. Very rarely did Mme Giry find that one of the girls wasn’t in bed; they were always very good about telling her before they went off. If one should be found elsewhere, it was usually for good reason. She walked away from the girls, glancing back once to make sure they were headed back stage for the most part, and continued forward.
Madame Giry moved to her own private quarters; she’d been granted them as ballet mistress, and was thankful for them. When she reached the door she paused. She drew in her breath as she bent down to retrieve the letter that had been left at the base of the double doors that led to her rooms. She glanced in both directions down the corridor, knowing she would see no one. She went into her rooms briefly, setting her staff down before returning the corridor. She turned in the direction of the managers’ offices and set off at a brisk pace, breaking the wax seal as she went to see what news was to be delivered today.
