SOPRANO,

𝙻𝙰  𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙻𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙰     . . .     a  great  but  characterless  voice.

[sprano]

sprano    . . .    independent,  low activity blog for CARLOTTA of gaston leroux’s novel,  the ph.antom of the ope.ra.    iconless.    penned by day (22, she/her).    sideblog to @buhlonde.

[sprano]

chriztine​,   christine.

          ❛❛      perhaps  you  know  nothing  at  all,      ❜❜          you step up,     eyebrows furrowed slightly.     however,     your bold disagreement doesn’t mean you would no longer worry of what could she possibly do to you next.          ❛❛      i  got  lucky  to  sing  while  you  were  gone,     that  is  all.     i  was  not  the  one  to  decide.      ❜❜          a gulp.     you turn your head away from her right when she lets go of you,     but your gaze seems to be interested in her still.     of course,     it must be only for to step away in time if she proceeds with the need to grab onto you again.     your ghost  …     startled you get right after she says that.     it only takes a second for your gaze to lower before you turn back to face her,     shaking head in disbelief.     how could she  …,     did raoul   -   no,     it can’t be.          ❛❛      the  opera  ghost,      ❜❜          you correct her,     shaken,          ❛❛      is  the  same  amount  of  mine  as  he  is  yours!      ❜❜          it is your duty to make sure no one knows much.     yet you turn somewhat pale whenever he is mentioned and worry again,     are you rather afraid for yourself or for him?          ❛❛      think,     madame  …      ❜❜          you wish she rather doesn’t.

something cracks.   something whole in carlotta splits down the middle. she laughs, bodily, loudly. lucky, she thinks. carlotta had spent years climbing up from the ground, wiping soil off the hem of her dress, pretending she belonged on the stage and not to the streets. christine, young and naive and lucky, is stealing from her without even knowing.   “you are the one who knows nothing. you think that you can get on that stage and sing just because you are lucky? just because lady fortune has blessed you? NO. NO. i do not believe for a second luck has anything to do with this!”   she watches as christine backs away, like an animal startled into a corner. carlotta feels no glee, no satisfaction, because she knows christine is not really scared of her.   “oh, i am thinking plenty, christine.”   her name rolls off the tongue like a curse, like poison. everything carlotta despises and at the same time everything she covets.

“if you believe it so strongly, shall we test this ghost’s loyalty then? if i say i plan to KILL you tonight, will he come to save you? we shall see who this ghost really belongs to!”

[sprano]

unvicomte​,   raoul.

 “   no need, mademoiselle.     ”              offering a polite smile, even if you are quite certain of one thing, perhaps more than such:    she’d attempt to get on your good graces, how she’d call you guapito in her native tongue    .    .    .    THOUGH IT’S NOT ON YOUR FEATURES, YOU COULD FEEL YOURSELF CRINGE AT AN ATTEMPT.           “   paris has been home to me for plenty of years. i’d believe it shameful if i didn’t know my way through these streets.     ”       

the smile on her face tightens.    despite his obvious dismissal carlotta refuses to let it reflect that anything of the sort has been said,    much less the fact that it was directed towards her.          “  i’m surprised to see you unaccompanied tonight,  vicomte de chagny.  all anyone’s been speaking about these days is how you’re  . . .  closely acquainted with christine daaé.  ”          at the mention of his little infatuation and the bane of carlotta’s existence,    she bares her teeth and fashions it into a grin.          “  though i suppose if we were to give credence to every rumour floating around the opera house,  i’d have to believe she’s been having a dalliance with an unknown man.  people can hear all sorts of things coming from her room,  you know.  A MAN’S VOICE,  they say.  ”

[sprano]

chriztine​,   christine.

          the blonde attempts to take steps backwards,     but is found to fail as the diva happens to grab her.     eyes widen and they do even more once she realizes she doesn’t even feel fear,     but something else.     what even is it?          ❛❛      there  are  …     no  secrets.     no  secrets  at  all,     ma   -   carlotta!     have  you  lost  your  mind?      ❜❜          she gulps,     head turning to escape the grab and to escape the gaze.          ❛❛      god  is  my  witness,     i  did  nothing  at  all!      ❜❜

christine’s doe eyes go all wide in surprise,    though there’s no real fright there.    carlotta's a little surprised herself to find there’s something a little more there lingering underneath those pretty lashes of hers too.    how interesting.          “  mmmm,  your innocent virgin mary act is quite convincing,  i’ll admit.  but i know what a woman with secrets looks like,  chérie,  you’ll have to act much better than that to fool me.  ”

for the moment carlotta retreats,    allows for an ample amount of space to come between them again.          “  god as your witness ?  ha !  ”          carlotta barks out a laugh,    genuinely startled by her statement.    what a    . . .    girl.    foolish,    annoying niña,    butting into CARLOTTA’S business.          “  there’s no place for god here,  mademoiselle daaé.  your  . . .  GHOST  . . .  made sure of that.  ”

[sprano]

if carlotta is not singing wap she is singing fergalicious

[sprano]

LA CARLOTTA ,    she was  . . .  a voice !

le fantôme de l'opéra,  gaston leroux    /    moulin rouge,  baz lurhmann    /    i will try,  mary oliver    /    portrait of a bay with grief,  wale ayinla.

[sprano]

@chriztine,    after hours.

now that they were alone,    finally,    carlotta rounds on christine,    taking the girl’s chin between her fingers so that their gaze would remain locked on each other.          “  you must tell me your secrets,  pequeña furcia.  you’ve got everyone wrapped around those skinny little fingers of yours  . . .  and i am not so STUPID as to believe that is merely an accident.  ”

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nikleus​,   klaus.

“   mm, hardly. i’ve only attended your shows thus far. you musn’t mistake my regular appearances for the mademoiselle daaé.     ”              you are well aware of la señora carlotta’s replacement, a rather disappointing feat when you’d attend so many performances in the past:    you take a slow, steady sip of your own wine glass, yet you’d possibly lose count of how many you’d have if you keep asking for more.           “   she is a nobody, really. you are la carlotta, for god’s sake ! people should be throwing themselves at your feet, not a ballerina like that, mon amie.     ”       

“  oh you are doing wonders for my ego,  monsieur mikaelson.  ”          she smirks at him over the rim of her glass,    taking glee and the slightest bit of refuge in someone outside of her loyal pack of fans who seemed to see sense.    how no one could see the truth was still a mystery to carlotta,    as was christine’s SUDDEN and previously unaccounted for skills.    on top of all that somehow the girl had even managed to rope in the horrible phantom of the opera,    will the terrors never cease ?          “  i am afraid this ghastly business with the OPERA GHOST has left everyone  . . .  without their faculties.  dreadful business,  truly.  recently i have been thinking perhaps it’s time to put my days at the populaire behind me,  though it saddens me to say.  ”

the opera populaire has been a second home to carlotta for many years,    but just as quickly it seemed to become a type of hell.    damn that christine.    damn that phantom.    he could take the opera house away from her,    but carlotta would not be giving up singing without a fight.    and populaire was not the only place willing to employ her.    she was LA CARLOTTA after all !          “  if i should leave here,  will i still see you in the crowds while i am on stage ?  i have yet to meet a drinking partner whose company i enjoy as much as yours.  ”

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@nikleus,    opera house.

“  you’ve seen her,  then ?  ”          carlotta glances over at him over her wine glass,    not bothering to pretend like they didn’t both know who she was.          “  and what did you think ?  was she bewitching ?  so pure,  so soulful that you couldn’t help but throw yourself at her feet ?  ”          she scoffs,    eyes rolling up.

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@unvicomte,    streets of paris.

he cuts a handsome figure,    this boy,    carlotta thinks it an utter shame he’s wasted on someone like christine.    pure,    innocent,    sparkling christine.    she resists the urge to sneer,    instead she smiles slowly,    letting her red lips part over white teeth.    and she plays her game.          “  i don’t usually see you around this side of town,  guapito.  are you lost ?  ”

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@uncadavre,    carlotta’s dressing room.

“  PHANTOM !  ”          the door opens in tandem with the raising pitch of her voice,    the following smack of the doorknob against the wall echoing around the room.    carlotta has never thought to reach out to the phantom like this before,    so brazenly,    so openly calling out to the monster of the opera house.    but that was then—    that was before the horrible,    terrible skaark,    before he had made an utter spectacle of her—    now ?    now carlotta has had her own worst nightmare realised,    and suddenly the last thing she is is SCARED.          “  come out,  le connard !  show yourself !  you will answer for what you’ve done to me !  ”

[sprano]

hey <3