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Post by Poppy Olivia Sokov. on Oct 29, 2011 22:05:45 GMT -5
Poppy; "My car, my music! Deal with it, Poppers!"
Ugh! There was no getting through to this girl-- AT ALL. Poppy Sokov and Linda Collins had been fighting over the radio in Linda's jetta ever since they had left the house. They were sisters, yes, but not by blood. Poppy was adopted, but people still expected them to be the same. THAT would never happen. Poppy and Linda were as different as night and day. Linda was a tall cheerleader with straight blonde hair-- the picture of a freaking rockstar when Poppy was short with a mass of long dark brown hair that was near impossible to even attempt straightening-- not to mention she was a complete klutz when it came to walking. Yet here they were, together because Mrs. Collins insisted on getting Poppy back into dancing.
Back in Russia, when Poppy was still with her sister Deliah, the Twins were known for their dancing. They followed in their mother's footsteps and were pretty close to being prodigies. However, when their parents died and Poppy and Deliah were separated by foster homes, Poppy had stopped dancing because of the mental issues she was having at the time. Mrs. Collins thought it would be good to get her Russian daughter's head out of her books and get her back into dancing. So when her best friend Mrs. Sparrow mentioned the Silver Tongue Theater looking for dancers in their new production of course Mrs. Collins was going to insist Poppy go and audition... she was pretty ecstatic when she found that Poppy got a callback...
"So, like, you can dance... but you can't walk without falling on your face?" Linda remarked, Poppy narrowed her eyes on the setting sun in the distance, "Talk about contradiction." The Russian just shook her head, ignoring the blonde bimbo that drove the car that played god-awful music in her ears. Couldn't they just turn it off? Poppy was ready to kill herself if she had to listen to Justin Beiber ONE MORE TIME! "Can you please change this-- ... awvul music?" Poppy asked, trying not to sound irritated. Linda just glared at her and that was the end of that. Looks like Bieber fever was going to live on for the next 3 minutes....
When Linda's jetta finally approached the Theater, Poppy didn't even wait for the girl to turn off the engine. She grabbed her bag from the backseat and threw open the door with a "Pick me up at 8. Ve should be done en DON'T Forget!" Linda just rolled her eyes. Poppy's new sister tended to forget everything when she had her legs spread open for her favorite sports stars... gross. So Poppy rolled her eyes and got out of the car, rushing to the theater so that she could get at least 5 minutes of stretching in before they started. Stupid Linda had to make her late...
Poppy threw the doors open and hurried down the long dark wood hallways that lead to the center of the theater. Once she got inside, she could see the orchestra tuning their instruments. Good, there was no one of importance that would see her and knew she had gotten here late. Poppy hurried towards the stage, attempting to gather all of her curls and pull them into a high ponytail. That failed so she just left it down, sneaking backstage and towards the ballet bars to make it look like she was getting ready. She shrugged her hoodie off and brought her bag closer so that she could get her flats out.
Okay.... okay... still in the clear-- no one's even noticed her yet....
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Post by Rebecca Charlotte Sparrow. on Nov 3, 2011 1:12:19 GMT -5
[atrb=background,http://i53.tinypic.com/zlru4y.jpg]She still wasn't sure if she was into the role, but as part of her brain kept insisting, she had no choice now she was in it. Twirling the sword she'd been cradling around all evening, Becks let out a long sigh, pacing up along the back of the stage as the backstage crew raced around, trying to get everything in place for the rehearsals. The show wasn't meant to start for another few weeks, but with so many shows sold out, the greedy high-ups had made it their job to drain the most money they could out of the public and opened a whole extra week of shows, in a week that they would've spent perfecting the performance.
Personally, she didn't care. With her step-mother's help, she'd had the lines she needed to say perfected days ago, and her step-father had happily sparred with her o she could get the sword movements exactly right. The whole show was a version of Hamlet, shortened and modernised while still keeping in the traditional way of fighting. It was an odd mix, but she wasn't going to complain. The only thing that got on her nerves was that fact that they'd been given the wrong time to get there. Before the rehearsal, the theatre's main dance performers were running through their routines which means, she was there hours early.
Most of the early arrivals had already left again, but now she was dressed up and there, leaving would've been a waste of time. Not to mention she was curious about the dancers routine. Resting the blunt blade on her shoulder, she absently wandered back away from the crowded stage to the ballet bars. Who she saw there though, made the woman's lip turn up in a bit of a smirk. Stepping forward as silently as she could, Becks leaned against the bar, watching Poppy with a mixture of a amusement and curiosity. She didn't know the girl danced.
Looking at her wrist comically, she waited till the girl was rummaging in her bag before she spoke, laughter in her voice. “According to my calculations, you seem to be late Pops.” Dropping her hand, she swung the sword off her shoulder, twirling it again before stopping, point against the ground. “Don't worry though, no one's noticed, they're all too busy runnin' around like they've lost their heads.” Back against the pole, Becks tilted her head slightly, scanning back stage once more before turning back. “You dance?”
She liked to think she knew a fair bit about the other woman. Their families were close, had been since their first days in Ashford. It had meant that she'd been there and known Poppy since those days. While in any other circumstance, she might have even come to twist the woman around and mess with her head, with how much time they had to spend together it would have been a stupid move. Not to mention she was quite fond of her Russian friend now. Straightening, she turned the sword hilt toward Poppy, leaning on the blade with both hands. |  [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,207,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true] |
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Post by Poppy Olivia Sokov. on Nov 3, 2011 13:57:53 GMT -5
Poppy;The light tapping of footsteps sounded in front of her, slower than all the others that were scurrying about the stage and much more feminine-- as if the person might have been wearing heels. So when Poppy's minty eyes looked up to identify the stranger, a smile started to grow on her pale lips( like she was expecting a joke to be cracked soon) when she realized this was no stranger at all. It was Rebecca Sparrow, Mr. and Mrs. Sparrow's daughter and also as close of a family friend as her parents were to Poppy's foster parents. Poppy herself has only known Rebecca for the 2 short years that she's been in England but the two got relativly close pretty fast, seeing as the families spent a lot of holidays and dinner parties together.
Becca had an amused smile on her lips and was tapping her wrist as if there were a watch there, which made Poppy roll her eyes and let out a silent giggle. Becca could be a trip sometimes. "According to my calculations," Rebecca started with a hint of a laugh in her cofident voice, "you seem to be late Pops." Pops, one of her many nicknames. Poppy shook her head at the nickname and pulled her ballet flats from her dance bag along with a roll of what looked like ducktape, "Don't be eh tattle tale, novon likes tattle tales."
As Rebecca explained that no one noticed the Russian come in because of the caios to get the stage set up, Poppy started to wrap tape around her toes, making sure it was thick and sturdy so that she wouldn't fall or stumble while she was out there on her toes. Rebecca was fiddling with her prop sword, twirling it about as pratice or because she was bored. Poppy had just started pulling on one of her pearl colored flats when Becca inquired about the fact that she dances.
Those that know Poppy know that the Russian is a complete and total klutz. She couldn't walk a few feet without tripping over something usually and it happened often. However it only happened when Poppy was nervous but if you actually pay attention that's about 95% of the time in non-dance situations. Dancing didn't make Poppy nervous, if anything it relaxed her. Now if someone like Adam Hale, a boy Poppy met just the other day, were to watch her-- THEN she would be pretty clumsy on the dance floor. However, dance was her life and it would take a lot to break her elegant focus on the tasks at hand. To Rebecca's question, Poppy threw her a teasing smile and starting tie the flats up her ankles, "You seem so surprised," her mix of a heavy Russian-light British accent purred sweetly. The girl stood and placed her hand on the ballet bar, proceeding to get in a few drill while she could, "I ave been dancing for years. I could dance circles around you." a huge smile played on Poppy's lips as she bent forward to touch her toes and get a strech in, "How are your sword skill coming ehlong?" she asked, voice slurred with heavier Russian, indicating she didn't exactly know how to correctly say what she had.
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