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@calins-et-bisous
Introducing... Mademoiselle Charlotte Debelle
(Hannah Dodd) Goodness, [ CHARLOTTE DEBELLE ] has arrived! [ SHE ] is [ 28 ] , of the [ FRENCH ] [ DEBELLE'S ], and an [ OPERA SINGER ] . They are [ NEW ] to England and the season. This author has heard they are [ TALENTED ] but also [ HIGHLY SENSITIVE ]. Accompanied by [ NO ONE ] , there is much talk of their arrival and accepting calls but be warned: I have heard they [ RAN AWAY FROM PARIS AFTER A DISASTER ]!
Charlotte Debelle | Characters in Bloom
The lily is a flower of love and innocence. Pink lillies, in particular, represent femininity and sweetness, as well as parental and platonic love. After a performance at the opera, stargazer lillies may be given to a singer who you have admiration for.
Charlotte may be an opera singer, a career that is not exactly known for its purity, yet and she remainds quite gentle and innocent. She is said to have the beauty of a swan and the voice of a dove, making her the picture of femininity and grace. Her love for her parents is what made her go to the opera to start a career in the first place, and then later on become an opera singer. Patrons that come to see her after and in between shows say that they admire her soft words and heart, but little do they know her heart belongs to another.
FILM x TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS (4/∞)
MUSICAL THEATER APPRECIATION, 6/∞
THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA AT THE ROYAL ALBERT HALL (2011) — dir. Nick Morris
"I am sure it is rather daunting, but it is well-deserved. The audience was entirely full," she marveled. Riya thought it best not to bring attention that all eyes would remain on her in Mayfair, as it appeared to be an unproductive statement to Lottie's nerves on the notion. But her smile didnt dissipate, never in her presence. "It appears so, Miss Debelle."
The knock came like cold water in the summer, sudden and sobering. Oh, no. She didn't want their time to come to its end. It appeared it'd only just began. Riya found herself missing Lottie before she had the chance to depart. But her heart soared when she spoke her next words. Oh. Oh! "I would not to," she rushed out quickly. "I...perhaps we can walk the lantern path tonight, and ride the ferris wheel tomorrow."
Time was knocking at their door--literally--and Riya felt the urgency in their shared breaths. "Will you meet me by the lantern cart? I will have one and wait for you there." It was happening. They would be a pair, publically. She could buy many sweets and other things for the young woman. Anything her heart desired.
Charlotte's lips turned from a worried pout to one radiant smile. The ferris wheel with Riya Das? Oh! How her heart sang! "I will meet you there, Ms Das." She whispered with a racing heart as she gazed into Riya's deep eyes. The urge to lean forward was overwhelming, but she stopped herself. Everything about her was magnetic, it was hard to resist. "I hope you enjoy the rest of the show." She cooed, her fingers brushing against the other's gently before she stood up with a soft, reluctant smile. "You should return to your seat, you won't wan to miss when the curtain opens." She suggested softly, watching with almost sad eyes when the woman left.
Charlotte was completely and utterly smitten.
~Time Skip~
The next day, Charlotte arrived at the Bartholomew Fair. It close to the time the sun would be setting, which Lottie predicted would give them a lovely view of the sky as they sat on the ferris wheel. Her stomach was in knots, a mixture of excitement and nervousness going through her. While she was not exactly a stranger to romantic outings, with Riya it felt different. She was not a prop for her, rather she was her equal. Someone that Riya actually wanted to spend time with. She felt like the luckiest girl alive to have her attention.
In her hand she held a box of macarons she get from one of the vendors, a sweet treat reminding her of home, and one she hoped Riya would enjoy. She stood by the lantern cart, eyes searching the crowd nervously. What if she changed her mind? What if something happened? Anxious thoughts filled her mind before the familiar sweet smile caught her eyes, and everything relaxed again.
"You made it," she practically chirped, smile bright as she stepped forward. "And you look so lovely! Here, I... I was craving something sweet, I thought perhaps we could share these? Do you like macarons?"
The hopeful look that came over her face caused Edgar to feel the sudden urge to be honest. Not entirely honest, of course. He was still himself. "I do think he would have noticed you," he said, with less teasing than before. "Unless the man was asleep, of course. Though I'm notnentirely certain that would even make him right for the theatre." His mouth twitched, but his gaze stayed on her. There was something almost disarming about the way Charlotte asked it. Not vainly. Not as though praise was owed to her. More as though she had worked very hard at being seen and still did not quite trust that anyone truly had. Edgar understood that more than he wished to examine.
"A fool?" he repeated, his expression brightening and he leaned forward in pure fascination. "Yes... Yes, actually, I think you would be excellent at that." He reached for his notebook, then stopped himself halfway, fingers hovering above it. Too quick, and too eager. He drew his hand back and instead picked up one of the abandoned hairpins from the table, twirling it idly between his fingers. "A good fool is not easy. Anyone can stumble about and make faces. I do that before breakfast, and no one has yet paid to watch." His mouth curved. "But to be funny on purpose? To let the audience think they know what sort of creature you are, and then make them laugh before they have time to guard themselves against liking you? That takes skill."
He glanced at her then, his eyes bright with the shape of an idea beginning to form. "You could play a girl who is always getting things wrong. She trips over a stool, insults a duke by accident, hides in a wardrobe for entirely justifiable reasons, and somehow saves the whole evening while everyone clever is busy ruining it." His fingers tapped once against the table, restless. "Yes. I can see it. Not a pretty little fool either. Not someone there only to be laughed at. A real fool. The kind audiences adore because she is honest when everyone else is performing manners." He looked down at the hairpin in his hand, then set it carefully back among the others, before his gaze briefly flickered to the notebook again. He cleared his throat, knowing that his head was full of ideas now, already writing her character. But he forced his gaze back to her, and back to reality. "If this anonymous writer has any sense," he said, smile tugging at his mouth, "he will give you exactly that part."
Charlotte was uncertain if her idea was horrible or not, but seeing Edgar's reaction made her smile as excitement bubbled up inside her. "Really? You think so?" She giggled and leaned forward a little as well. She almost didn't notice how he reached for his notebook but then stopped, it was subtle but it still happened. How curious. "I think I could do it, be funny on purpose." She said with a nod, her lips quirking up into a small smile. "I just- I have always played sweet and beautiful characters. And I think they are lovely, but... I don't know, I think being something other than just pretty would be such a wonderful thing." Her eyebrows furrowed a little, thinking of how she had to be pretty her whole life for people. Perhaps allowing herself to be even a little bit "ugly", even for a short while, would be a wonderful feeling.
Hearing Edgar speak, like he really understood her vision, made her eyes light up. "Yes! Yes you understand!" She beamed and nodded, already captivated by the story he was putting together. "Oh gosh, can you imagine? Being completely reckless, saying what others are thinking because you just do not care?" It sounded completely unlike the real Charlotte, which perhaps made it the perfect role. After all, all good actors were capable of playing the opposite of themselves.
"Mr. O'Connor?" Lottie asked now, chewing on her lip slightly as his final sentence echoed in her mind. "If you see this writer before you leave, will you tell him about our idea?" Edgar was also a writer, and it seemed that perhaps he knew of the other person? Or... No, he couldn't be. He surely would have said something by now if he was. "You have wonderful ideas, you know. Perhaps you two should work together?"
|| closed starter || @calins-et-bisous || Charlotte
|| LOCATION || The Bartholomew Fair Grounds
Genevieve was waiting in line to retrieve a caramel apple for her and Edgar to share. She held the velvet box designated for him in one hand, thumbing along the plush texture to soothe her nerves. When he told her his birthday, she was inclined to gift him with something. A simple thing, but one that he could call his own.
As she glanced about and let the sound of joyous shouting and children's giggles swallow her thoughts, she spotted a head of blonde curls in front of her. Her clothing was entirely unfamiliar to the likes of Mayfair. But it was the fluid French she spoke, and recognition sprang to her.
With more confidence than she meant, Genevieve tapped the young woman on the shoulder. "Charlotte Lebelle? Is that you?" She hadn't seen her since she left right before Ginnie's own departure, and she had missed her talented friend dearly.
When she was able to see her face, the princess beamed with delight. "Lottie! It is you! C'est là que tu avais disparu!"
Charlotte had arrived at the fair early, she was planning on seeing Riya and riding the ferris wheel with her. The idea made her stomach flutter with excitement. It was such a romantic spot, and she found herself smiling at the thought of perhaps kissing her at the very top.
There was a cart selling caramel apples and other snacks, and Lottie was drawn to it. One thing about her was she had a sweet tooth, and she saw the vendor had her favorite dessert from back home- macarons! She ordered a few for her and Riya to share, and learned that the vendor had lived in Paris for a little bit as well. So she had a brief conversation with him in French, her smile bright and sweet as it always was. As she was going to turn away, there was a tap to her shoulder and her eyes widened seeing Genevieve de la Croix standing before her.
"Ginnie!" Lottie gasped as a smile overcame her. It had been so long since she saw the princess. "Je suis là, et vous aussi!*" She chuckled, moving a little to the side so they could speak. "Que faites-vous ici?** Please, allow me to buy you a treat and then we must walk and talk!"
Translation: *I am here, and so are you!
**What are you doing here?
114 GIFS OF HANNAH DODD NAME
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𝐰𝐡𝐨? liliana & charlotte ( @calins-et-bisous ) 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞? the bartholemew fair, the artist's escape.
the fair had not been on her plan for the day, but lulia had almost torn liliana's hair free from it's braid to convince her to take her - after some sharp words and convincing her grandparents to tag along, she gives in. fairs and fancies had once been the most sparkling event in her town, something she looked forward to as a child, but now sinister memories keep her from enjoying the festivities.
leaving lulia and her grandparents at the menagerie of curiosities, liliana finds herself in solace. artwork and creatives, a moment of respite from the crawling feeling that echoed along her flesh. she stops to look at one piece of particularly provocative pieces of artwork, head tilting to admire the curve of the muse's shoulder.
Charlotte had told Riya she would meet her at the fair, and she decided to show up a little earlier than planned. Admittedly she was nervous, Lottie had developed some strong feelings for the other woman. Riya was kind and gentle, but she feared she would not be accepted as anything more than a friend or companion, not what she truly desired. Women like her were not often chosen to be wives of women like Riya.
The Artist's Escape had beautiful art pieces, and Lottie was surprised by how drawn she was to the more erotic pieces. The beautiful curves of the woman, the way the fabric laid over her in a most teasing manner. She had to admire the skill the artist had to make such a painting. Lottie saw a woman next to her and gave a small, almost shy smile at being caught looking at the painting. Despite the other also looking at said painting.
"It is beautiful. The artist must have had strong feelings for this woman to paint such a masterpiece." Not necessarily love, but perhaps lust. Perhaps aesthetic attraction and fascination. "I do wonder if the artist is here now?"
Dominic wasn’t oblivious to things. He knew he put duty above all, including emotions, and his marriage wouldn’t be any different. Contrary to the popular thoughts that surrounded him since his return, he wasn’t a cruel man. Dominic had emotions; he just hid them well, prioritising things like his work above it all. He’d be a partner to his wife, respected and cared for. It was more than what some people married into. “Do you think she’ll take to Ireland?” He asks in full sincerity, “It’s not as luxurious as France, but it’s beautiful.” The weather was harsher. Dominic didn’t know how the old baron lived, but Leonora would have estates and castles to manage.
He paused. Dominic didn’t know what to think of his future wife being so close to an opera singer. Dominic and his fellow lords had attended a few operas, some backstage. There were times when those singers were looking for wealthy patrons to share a night with in exchange for money and stability. He didn’t know if Charlotte was that sort. “You’ve been friends for a long time then,” he said, while he thought about it. “Did you know her former husband well?” It was a delicate question. Dominic didn’t want to pry, but part of him wanted to understand what marriage had been for Leonora. Now, he was curious how she came to be friends with an opera singer. “How did you two become so close?” He asks, a little awkwardly.
"Ireland?" Charlotte was a little surprised by his question, although she wasn't sure if she should be. If Leonora was going to be a Marchioness then of course she would have to go with her husband to his home. But... Ireland? It was so far away! She didn't know if she would handle being so far when they had only just reunited. "I... Think she would enjoy it, my Lord." She said honestly. "Nora loves flowers, and I hear Ireland has lovely scenery. I do not think she cared much about luxury, if I am honest." She was quiet for a moment, unsure if she should allow herself to speak honestly to the man she barely knew. "I just want her to be happy, is all." She finally admitted in a soft voice. "Which I am certain she will." Charlotte quickly added, the last thing she wanted would be to offend her longest friend's new husband.
"Oh yes, quite some time." A fond smile appeared on her lips, remembering all the memories they held together. At the mention of the late baron her smile faltered a little but she quickly recovered. "I did. Not very well, though." She remembered how he would come to the opera house to watch the ballerinas, talk to the singers and actresses. It always broke her heart. "I suppose we both were just in need of a friend. I saw her at the opera house I previously worked, she looked so... Lonely, like how I felt. Well, now she is truly my best friend, my Lord. I would do anything for her." She hoped her words would show just how much she cared for her.
leonora had shut herself away before returning to england, even halting visits from her only confidant in the foreign country - some said it was the grief, some said it was her celebration, nobody would know fully. but how her heart sang at the sight of charlotte, memories flooding back of one of the only lights of france that was offered up to her as a baronness. a true friend.
hands slip into hands as if made for one another, platonic soulmates through and through, leonora was brightened just by charlotte's presence in mayfair. "mon cher, how delighted i am to have you with me once again," her voice carries a smile as she squeezes charlotte's hands, "i fear i may be engaged to a man who is actually quite funny."
charlotte knew the baron through leonora's retellings, many stories were hidden - she still believed her honoured duty of a wife - however, some secrets were best shared to lighten the burden on the mind and the heart. charlotte would understand the engagement as one of good fortune for leonora, even with no love she would have a friend. "i have missed you terribly," arms wrap the other up tightly, emotions seeping through the action. deep regret and guilt, relief and happiness.
"Oh I feel the same way." Charlotte cooed, rememorizing Leonora's face after so long apart. Her face lit up when she said her fiance was funny, a smile spreading across her lips. "Is that so? I am delighted for you then, mon cher! I did meet Lord O'Connor briefly, he seems kind." And kindness was the very least Leonora deserved.
"I have missed you too, but we are together again." She whispered and pressed a gentle kiss to Leonora's cheek, giving her one more squeeze in their embrace. When she released her, Lottie hooked her arm into Leonora's, unable to stop smiling. "Have you found what you were looking to buy? I was thinking we could go to the fair that has arrived. Do you remember the fairs we attended back in Paris? I do wonder if this Bartholomew Fair will supersede what we are used to."
Lottie had her books she was wanting under her other arm, but she did not want to rush Nora. She was simply happy to be with her platonic soulmate once again.
Riya's eyes tracked Charlotte's movement, down to the steadiness of her hands as she prepared tea for them. She had never been so enchanted by a person's entire self. Her steady breaths, the gentle smile that shifted between elated and nervous. It was endearing, and she found her heart pulling at another unfamiliar feeling. "Oh, that's quite fine. It smells wonderful," she assured as she cradled the teacup after their silent cheer.
Taking a slow sip of her own granted her the opportunity to not be distracted by Charlotte's, well, everything. Setting the teacup onto the vanity, RIya offered a bashful smile and placed her hands in her lap. "I have traveled quite far, yes. But your voice and talent travels far and wide, beyond the likes of Mayfair," she complimented seamlessly.
Her heart was pounding at the sight of that smile. As if sunlight broke through the building's infrastructure to cast its light above Charlotte's head. Looking at her with a glimmer in her eyes reminiscent of tears. "Truly? Anything?" She had no clue that their time was almost coming to an end, but even if she did, she wanted to will a timeless world where only they existed.
The way Riya looked at Charlotte made her feel like she was flying just like the butterflies in her stomach. Riya seemed just as nervous and happy as she was, which only made her mood lighter. She felt something similar once before, but not quite like this. This felt different, more intense.
"Oh, thank you." Charlotte chuckled softly, she was unable to stop smiling. Gosh, what a love sick fool she was! "It does not quite feel real just how popular people say I am." Once upon a time she had wanted to be famous enough to be able to afford taking care of her parents. But now? She was certainly happy with how hard she's worked, but a part of her wished she could just live a stable and perhaps 'normal' life. Whatever that may look like. "It seems the both of us have traveled in different ways then?"
Oh. Riya's eyes were positively sparkling at her, just like the very gem she embodied at the ball where they first met. Charlotte was mesmerized by the look, her own eyes soft as she got lost in Riya's depth. Her mouth felt dry, but she didn't want to stop looking at her to drink her tea. If she could, she would stare at Riya forever and ever. "Anything." She repeated back, her body on fire for this woman. There was a knock at the door, startling Charlotte out of her haze with a reminder she would need to be back on stage in 5 minutes.
A new sense of urgency coming over her, Lottie looked at Riya again. "You do not have to agree, but... I would very much like to accompany you to the fair." She said quickly, knowing their time was coming to an end very quickly. "If tonight is too late for you, perhaps tomorrow?" She asked hopefully.
flowy dresses, farmers market mornings, fresh tulips, windows open, iced honey lattes, recharging the soul through nature.
Charlotte Debelle | Soundtrack of Our Lives ( Part 1 )
Songs and breakdown under the cut
🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵
Edgar followed her gesture and took the chair opposite her, stretching his legs out beneath the table with the ease of a man who had no business making himself comfortable, yet did so anyway. His notebook landed on the table beside him, close enough to reach, not close enough to offer. He was still smiling when she began to explain the rumour. Then Charlotte said 'anonymous writer', and Edgar's fingers stilled against the tabletop. He ought to have laughed it off at once. He ought to have said something careless and charming and entirely useless. Instead, for one foolish moment, he looked at her face - the sheepish dip of her eyes, the nervous tapping of her fingers - and felt the confession rise dangerously close to his tongue.
Edgar leaned back in his chair and let out a slow, amused breath. "Well," he said, "that is a very specific rumour." His gaze flicked to the notebook, then back to her as he cleared his throat. "And here I thought the gossip about this place was limited to ghosts, attacking costumes, and actresses stealing one another's ribbons." He tapped one finger lightly against the table, considering her with a warmer curiosity now. She had come looking for a chance. Not applause, not flattery, but the possibility of something written with her in mind. He understood the hunger of that more than he wanted to admit.
"A writer who makes roles for performers he enjoys" Edgar repeated slowly, as if weighing the idea. "That sounds either very generous or very dangerous. Perhaps both. Writers are dreadful people when inspired, I've learned. They start staring at you too long and pretending it is research." His mouth curved, but his voice softened slightly. "But if such a man exists, I imagine he would have noticed you tonight." He tilted his head, studying her. "Tell me, Ms Debelle. If this anonymous writer were real, what sort of part would you want him to write for you?"
Charlotte watched Edgar's reaction to her silly curiosity. For a moment she was worried he would laugh and dismiss her. But he seemed curious alongside her, perhaps knowing something she didn't. "I know it sounds ridiculous... But part of me hopes it is real. Imagine someone writing a part, just for you?" It was such a dream in her mind. Someone being inspired by her so strongly they write an entire part for her. But Charlotte never thought she'd ever be successful enough for such a thing.
Lottie smiled a little at his playful words and chuckled softly. "I have met a fair amount of writers before. I do not find them dreadul, but perhaps all the writers I know are simply uninspired." She joked lightly. A soft, hopeful expression on her face. "Do you really think he would have noticed me?" Of course, a part of her still considered that perhaps he was the mysterious writer. But it was hard to tell, and quite honestly she was okay with not knowing in the moment. If she had embarrassed herself in front of the writer, she wouldn't want to know.
"Oh gosh... What part would I want?" She repeated the question and chewed on her bottom lip as she pondered. There were so many wonderful parts that she would want to explore. In Paris, she was always put into romantic and ingenue type of roles. She was always so sweet looking that no one ever wanted to try anything new. But at the same time, she didn't think she could pull off a villainous role. "Perhaps... Something comedic? Something where I am allowed to be a fool?" She smiled at the thought, she didn't always get to be funny on stage. "Do you think I could pull that off? What would you suggest?"
swan ballet | gif by dolcesostenuto, source by rufus_airlines
Open starter for: Grace ( @grace-barnett ) | Location: The Bartholomew Fair ( Games of Chance )
Charlotte was at the ring toss with Grace Barnett, her new friend. The two met at the theatre, and she quickly grew fond of the young woman. She was bright and intelligent, and so easy to talk to. Lottie laughed as she missed one of the targets with her ring and shook her head with an amused sigh.
"Perhaps you should try, Grace. I do not seem to be very good at this!" She giggled softly, stepping aside to let her friend go. "After this, would you like to try one of the snacks here? I know there's special flavors of ice cream available for the fair, or biscuits!" One of the things Lottie found it hard to resist was sweets. A shame, really, because she had to avoid dairy to protect the quality of her voice.
