Come one come all to the first ever Tranquility Talent Show! All are welcome to enter and show their skills to delight and entertain the crowds. Take the chance to shine on the new stage in the Tranquility Ballroom.
There is no fee to enter and perform but there will be a fee to enter and be entertained.
Food and drink will be provided upon the purchase of a ticket.
The theme is Phantom of the Opera and all guests are encouraged to show up in costume as there will be a ball immediately following the talent show.
If you wish to enter please fill out one of the forms placed at The Red Dragon Inn, The Annex, and The Golden Perch Inn.
If you have any questions please seek out:
The Sublime Bellamere (Master of Ceremonies)
Mallory Maeda (Judge)
Eregor Túr Gairdín (Judge)
Mathian Shadowsoul (Judge)
Regina Wellston (Coordinator)
Talent to be performed: (A brief description as to what your character will be doing so that the Master of Ceremonies knows how to describe the upcoming act to perform.
Rules:
There will be no harming, maiming, or killing of talent show staff such as Master of Ceremonies or judges
There will be no violence allowed during the event.
All weapons, magical, or non, must be checked in at the lobby
This is a neutral area created for any and all to gather and enjoy a night of fun. Please, leave all prejudices behind when you walk through the doors!
(Players please reply to this thread, or send a direct message to Regina Wellston or Bellamere on Discord, filling out the Contestant Form if you would like one of your characters to compete.Then make sure you write up, ahead of time, what your characters are doing during their performance. You will be given a 15 minute time slot for their performance, keeping it like this will allow us all to enjoy the show but not having it run for days! Please if you will, send that character performance to the Master of Ceremonies Bellamere. He will need to have an idea of what your character will be performing.)
(Performances will be judged based on Creativity/ Expertise(how hard/skilled it is), and Showmanship.)
(There will be 1st place, 2nd place, and 3rd place prizes!)
Last edited by Regina Wellston on Mon May 04, 2020 9:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
Name of entrant: Reiko Souma To be introduced as: Pink Widow Performing: Psychic song
*Telepathic projections will be used on stage for all to see, only to augment the performance; nobody's minds will be invaded in the duration of the performance.
A single spotlight centers in on an empty stage. For a minute it just hovers there, silence beginning to take over as the audience realizes something is happening and after a series of "shhhh's", a hush comes over the ballroom. Then the organ notes of the phantom of the opera theme hit, and a geyser of purple smoke rises up from the center of the stage. When it clears a well dressed man in a bespoke tuxedo is standing there, a ringmaster's baton in his hand. Swishing about him as he stalks forward to the edge of the stage is a cape with a bright crimson interior lining. Set upon his head is a magician's top hat and half his face is concealed by a Venetian style mask of gold, intricately forged. "Ladies, gentlemen, gnomes, and elves. Beholders, Faeries, and things that go bump in the night. Welcome one and all to the first ever Tranquility Ball Room Talent extravaganza!" His voice needed no microphone (though at insistence from backstage he conceded to one) and filled the hall. "This is a night for the people of Rhy'din to come together in harmony and fellowship to showcase their many talents. I am the Sublime Bellamere, and tonight during this show my only title is Master of Ceremonies, I greet you all, with my humblest gratitude that you have all attended..." he paced across the stage, the spotlight following him as he made each dramatic or theatrical gesture, the cape he wore flashing brilliant scarlet more than once. "What you will see this night are acts that will defy logic, mystify you, dazzle you, and keep you on the edge of your seats. While there will be many splendid performances, only one participant can emerged as the winner. That remarkable individual will be determined by our panel of judges.." His voice trailed off, but in the manner to keep the audience hanging on his next word.
With that he theatrically gestured to the judges with his baton. "We have the mysterious Mallory Maeda,The Crimson Keeper." His baton then moved over to the aristocratic nobleman "The illustrious Mathian Shadowsoul" glancing back to the crowd he smiled and then gestured at the last of the judges "..and Eregor Túr Gairdín, Cerulean Keeper. This fine gentleman advised me last evening that I should talk less." He offered a chuckle to the audience. "I suppose I need to ignore that kernel of wisdom tonight, otherwise we won't know whose up next."He stepped away from the judges, though still gestured in their direction. "A most prestigious panel of luminaries." "Let us also not forget the architect of this whole event, the magnificent Regina Wellston ..." He flipped the baton on his hand and caught it in the other, gesturing outward from the stage to the bar. The spotlights left him and suddenly narrowed in on Regina, preventing her flight. "After the performance, due be sure to thank her for her hard work and dedication."
The spotlights mercifully left Regina and returned to the master of ceremonies who was crossing the stage to stand before the judges table. Languidly he passed his hand through the air over it, trailing a stream of silver smoke that twinkled under the lights, it quickly dissipated revealing score cards and ink quills in front of each of the three judges. "Now as to the rules, each act will be given fifteen minutes to perform and then their performance will be judged based on certain criteria..Once all of the acts are finished the scores will be tallied and the winner will be announced as king or queen of the ball. I was pushing for Grand Poobah de Rhy'din of savvy and grace, their high eminence of the ball, but apparently I was over-ruled." Said with a staged wink to the audience. "Second and third place will also receive a substantial cash prize.""I have personally witnessed nearly all of these acts, and others.. ahem.. they will all impress and astound you. Now without further delay, our first contestant..."
The lights went down, light fading from the master of ceremonies. The man in the cape and tuxedo continued to stay on the stage however and with a sudden flourish of his arms, a small flight of glowing fireflies seemed to pour forth from his cape, spinning and fluttering around and above him. With their faint illumination no spotlight fell upon him. None needed to. The shadows crawled across the mask and top hat, casting him in a somewhat foreboding image. "Our first contestant is the soulful and vivacious Gwendy Darling of the Lost Boys, performing a song and dance routine certain to touch even the most callous of hearts" He spoke with a polished voice even as the cloud of fireflies glided around him to lend their light.A second passed and the fireflies went dark, obscuring the stage and the master of ceremonies as the first act began...
Gwen stepped out onto the stage and made her way to the center of it nervously. The dress she wore was of a light blue that hung from the thin straps on her shoulders. Silken material draped her body comfortably, but not too tight, until it fanned out lazy from the waist into a thin, wispy thing that flowed behind her as she made her way to the mark at the center of the stage. Reaching that mark and placing her bare feet upon it, she turned and looked out to the sea of people in attendance at tonight's talent show. Dirty blonde braids lined either side of her head and draped in front of her collarbones as she searched the faces that looked on with ice blue eyes. Nerves getting the better of her, she bit the corner of her lower lip while worry slowly began knitting her brows together at not finding a familiar one. Then, there in the back and off to the side, she saw it. She spied a curly brunette mop, above which rose a wispy tendril of grey smoke and she smiled. He wasn’t looking towards the stage yet, but it didn’t matter. They were all here, somewhere, and that’s all she needed to know. The teeth that chewed her lip gave way to a thin,curving line of a smile and the worry melted into an expression that genuinely touched her eyes. Looking off to the left of the stage, she nodded once and then turned to face the crowd again, eyes closed and head down.
__There was a time when I was alone____Nowhere to go and no place to call home____My only friend was the man in the moon__And even sometimes he would go away, too__When Lost Boy by Ruth B. started playing over the speakers, Gwen arms slowly moved up and she placed both hands over her heart as her shoulder slumped to the words. Looking left, her eyes saddened and shoulders dipped before her head bowed and her eyes closed.She hadn’t had anywhere to go. Turning right, she moved to the tip toe of her right foot as her left extended out behind her. Her hand went above her eyes and she looked upward, smiling at the image of a moon rising at the back of the stage. When the moon went away, her expression saddened and hands dropped away as a pout replaced the happy look and her eyes looked to the floor. *__Then one night, as I closed my eyes____I saw a shadow flying high____He came to me with the sweetest smile____Told me he wanted to talk for awhile____He said, "Peter Pan, that's what they call me____I promise that you'll never be lonely, " and ever since that day__Bringing her feet together, she drew her hands up, palms together, and placed them to her cheek while she leaned to one side and began closing her eyes.When a shadowy figure clad in all black appeared where the moon had been, she looked over quick and pointed at it while looking at the crowd with a look of shock. Pan’s shadow. Tilting his head, the shadow brought his hands up to where lips would be and smiled his ‘sweetest smile’ before placing one fist on his hip. Pointing to himself with the other, he nodded his head along with, ‘Peter Pan, that’s what they call me’. That finger went out then, pointing towards somewhere in the back and off to the side as he bounced it with the words, ‘I promise that you’ll never be lonely.’
__I am a lost boy from Neverland____Usually hanging out with Peter Pan____And when we're bored we play in the woods____Always on the run from Captain Hook____"Run, run, lost boy, " they say to me____Away from all of reality____Neverland is home to lost boys like me____And lost boys like me are free____Neverland is home to lost boys like me____And lost boys like me are free__Both hands went out to her sides, palms facing up, as she spun around slowly at the 'Lost Boy from Neverland'. Spinning until she was facing the left of the stage, she motioned back with her head, thumb and a wink to Pan's shadow before she dipped forward and performed an aerial sideways tumble. Cause that's how they played in the woods. Flip completed, the blacked out figure lunged towards her, finger curled into a hook as she brought both hands to her mouth in surprise. Looking out to the crowd next, she turned and started to run, but stopped. Instead, she slowly walked away from the curled finger while smiling and wagging her finger back and forth. When the walking stopped, she looked around the stage with a wide arching gaze and then brought both hands to her chest and bunched her shoulders together. She did feel free here.
__He sprinkled me in pixie dust and told me to believe____Believe in him and believe in me____Together we will fly away in a cloud of green____To your beautiful destiny____As we soared above the town that never loved me____I realized I finally had a family____Soon enough we reached Neverland____Peacefully my feet hit the sand____And ever since that day__When the figure clad in all black walked over to her, she turned, looking up at him with a curious gaze. When the man brought his hand up and began sprinkling her with golden dust, she smiled, scrunching her nose up and squishing her eyes closed as she shook her head playfully. Once she had been sprinkled with pixie dust, she leapt forward onto his waiting hands where he lifted her up and carried her, letting her soar around the stage as she looked out upon the crowd with a look of wonder and excitement. When he set her down gently, she walked slowly towards the crowd before moving into the chorus again.__Peter Pan, Tinkerbell, Wendy Darling____Even Captain Hook, you are my perfect story book____Neverland, I love you so____You are now my home sweet home____Forever a lost boy at last__Two times, she would tick each name off with her finger before wrapping her arms around herself tight and rocking back and forth. When she looked back at the crowd, she made a heart shape with her hands before placing them together, bringing them up to her cheek and nuzzling her cheek against them happily. Home Sweet Home. And again, she drew her hands out to her sides, palms up, and spun around slowly. A Lost Boy at Last.__And for always I will say__
A low, creeping mist drifted across the stage now. An ominous song, that slithered across the spine began to play. Almost seeming to float across that mist, Bellamere appeared, moving in a haunting and languid waltz with an invisible partner to the center of the stage. He spun around once more, his cape swirling around him in a dazzling display of crimson and black. When he stopped there was a single red rose gripped within his teeth. With deliberate dramatics he took it in hand and cast it out to the crowd, where it would land on the lap of the Princess Xune Vandree, a secret smile on his lips."It is with great esteem that I now Introduce the nimble, the provocative... the Marvelous Morgan! He is going to delight, astound and amaze with this gravity defying act. Allow yourselves to be drawn in and revere." It was subtle, but that last word from the master of ceremonies, Revere, seemed to drag on, a lingering whisper in the audiences ears. With those words Bellamere began to lower by hidden elevator into the floor, his form being swallowed by the stage and those creeping mists.
A deep breath, and the redhead seemed to disappear... Straight up the curtain............
The room darkens, and a hush falls. From all around, a gentle music box melody plays, unsettling, and hauntingly beautiful. As it does, slowly, a single red silken pillar of fabric lowers into view from above the stage, a spider's crimson lure. Quite suddenly, at the drop of a beat over music, there is a flurry of movement, a body tumbling from above, wrapped in a separate red silk, red on black. Just above the floor, the body comes to a stop, poised as if in flight, and the lithe figure's toes touch, pointed, against the stage, bringing the small man to standing, facing the audience. A white mask is painted on half of his face, and his red hair is severely slicked back. One pale hand touches to chest as he gives a grand, welcoming bow, welcoming the audience to come... come and see. See how his body, wrapped in darkness, wraps itself now in red silk, how he climbs, a swath of fabric now a cape hanging over one shoulder, long and fluttering with movement. The welcoming arm goes out once more, to come in, beckoning, fingers curling slowly. A bend of the spine, and his legs point up, his head points down, and feet part, now a straight line across from toe to toe as he holds himself up in the silks with only wrapping and his hips. His arms reach to grasp at dangling silk, and he throws it in a circle, starting a slow spin.
Around, and around, a whirlwind of movement, confusion, limbs bending as if caught in the web of his own making, the phantom writhes in agony, every now and again a jerk to a beat, here a head tick, there an unnatural bend of spine. Again, the dancer tumbles, head over heel, to the beat, and ends the song facing the audience, parallel to the floor, legs wide behind him, feet wrapped neatly in red, one silk dangling over his shoulder as if to denote blood from his very throat, and hands reach out, slowly. Reach, come, join me, let me teach you. Hold you. Sing, little fly, for the spider that loves you. His body goes limp... and the stage goes dark, once more.
With a flash the spotlight shattered the darkness on the stage, it's beam focused high up by the upper curtains. Lowering from the balcony the master of ceremonies was illuminated by it as he began to float languorously down toward the stage. His arms were crossed before his chest and four motes of fluorescent gold fire circled around him like the electrons of an atom. When his polished shoes touch the stage he was at the far end. The sound of his polished shoes tapping across the wood of the stage filled the silence as he walked from the right side curtains out to the center of the stage. There he stood still and quiet for a few seconds. With a sudden movement, he whipped his left arm outwards dragging his cape with it. The rich crimson of the interior sparkled beneath the spotlights and those "And now... The Pink Widow, Reiko Souma and her psychic song..." four witch-fires sailed outward over the audience, the light trailing with them and leaving the stage black.
When introduced, the Albino wasn't pretending to not be nervous. This was her first public performance ever. Mind you, the elegant strapless black gown with pink cascading butterflies and a black mask weren't just for show. In varying places, there were wireless microphones set up to assure that Reiko could be heard during her performance. Black ballet slippers adorned her very white feet; these were as important to her performance as the gradually changing lighting.Reiko wasn't walking out onto the stage when introduced, but rather floating down slowly from a dark ceiling. Translucent pink butterfly wings, a projection of her abilities, were spread behind her at the opening of the song she had on her cue. Providing the accompaniment to the piece was Francesca, one of her employees who also happened to be a pianist; the piano was a black upright piano that was off to the side and out of the view. No light was needed for the pianist because Francesca was legally blind. As she began to sing "I Remember (Evening Primrose)," her delicate vocal cords were amplified by the three wireless microphones that were strategically placed on her person. Her thick black choker housed one of the three."I remember sky,It was blue as ink."The translucent butterfly wings that had materialized behind her slowly dissipated into tiny butterflies of the same colour that fluttered away from their formation. The cascading butterflies on her gown? Those were mere psychic projections as well, fluttering away to reveal that her gown was in fact entirely black.
"Or at least, I think,I remember sky." As the butterflies flew away, they faded into silhouettes against the sky-themed backdrop of the stage. This was another one of Reiko's psychic projections, one that she could afford to project for as long as need be now that she was no longer using her telekinesis. The silhouettes were now slowly gathering to create a window on each side of the backdrop on the stage."I remember snow,Soft as feathers,Sharp as thumb tacks,Coming down like lint."*Snow was now starting to come down gently as slipper-covered feet touched the ground with Reiko standing on her tiptoes. Both of her hands, which had black lace corsets adorning her wrists, slowly moved towards her chest. They touched delicately just above her breast line to reveal fingernails with a black butterfly painted on each nail, set against a pastel pink background. Was it real snow? The audience would have to find out for themselves."And it made you squintWhen the wind would blow"As the snow touched the stage, Reiko moved her hands away from her chest. Her arms spread down at a forty-five degree angle, and the snow started to blow away. What remained became ice all around. Added to the backdrop on the bottom was the imagery of an empty street at night, covered in ice. Suddenly, the woman started to move about to her left in circles, having remained on her tiptoes this entire time. The skirt of her gown started to rise with her movement, the reason it was so long to begin with.
"And ice like viny lOn the streets Cold as silver White as sheets Rain like strings And changing things Like leaves." The ice soon melted into little puddles, and the falling snow was soon joined by gently falling leaves. They fell in various colours of the autumn, landing on the stage all around Reiko, who stopped moving in circles. She now stood closer to the edge of the stage as well. Soon, the snow stopped, giving way to the leaves.*"I remember leaves Green as spearmint Crisp as paper."From half of the colours of the rainbow to green those leaves went. Was there a gentle smell of spearmint somewhere as well? Reiko would never tell, though she did bend down to pick up one of the green leaves from the stage. It was the only time she paused from standing on her tiptoes. A moment later, however, she was standing straight and on her tiptoes once more."I remember trees Bare as coat racks Spread like broken umbrellas."The windows that the butterflies had formed? Those had been dissipating very, very slowly with the various other psychic projections in play to distract the audience. Now that there were trees taking the place of the empty street and the windows, the butterflies had come into view once more. They were as pink as they had been at the start of the song and were now taking their place in the trees. Reiko was now moving to her right this time, though not in circles. She was moving in little leaps like she was leaping across a little bridge.
"And parks and bridges Ponds and zoos Ruddy faces Muddy shoes Light and noise and Bees and boys And days.*At the words, "and days," she released the leaf that she'd been holding onto for the last several seconds now. It glided towards the stage, where it then disappeared into a sea of green leaves and grass upon landed. Reiko turned back towards the centre and stopped moving."I remember days Or at least I try But as years go by They're sort of haze"She lifted her eyes up with her face, looking out towards the audience. In her eyes was a somewhat distant look, as if she was actually thinking about something else when she sang these lyrics. Her right hand slowly swept their way up towards her, inward, and it came to rest on her chest where her heart was. Yes, Reiko *was* thinking about something else. She was thinking of the memory she'd shared with her first true love - of happy days when the sky really was blue more often, and not just literally. During those days, the sky had been blue more often with her true happiness and joy.
"And the bluest ink Isn't really sky And at times I think I would gladly die For a day of sky"Now standing flat on her feet, she lowered her eyes to face the judges and the audience once more. Behind her, all of the trees and landscape were slowly vanishing from the blue backdrop until the only things that remained were Reiko and the butterflies. Then, with the last two lines she sang, the butterflies made their way back over to Reiko. Both of her hands clasped together in front of her as her gown was soon decorated with the same pink butterflies that had covered it at the beginning. A few more butterflies landed on her shoulders, her hair, and one on her clasped-together hands.By the song's end, the lighting made a smooth transition to cast a gentle pink halo around the Albino, who didn't move until it was time to leave the stage.
The low, repeating beat of drums was clashed with the high notes of a recorder as the theme from the good, the bad, and the ugly began to play. Tumbleweeds rolled across the stage and the lighting became that rich crimson of a setting sun across the desert.Seated side saddle on a miserable looking gray donkey was the master of ceremonies once more. Slipping off the animal's back, Bellamere scratched behind its ears, before turning to the audience with a flourish of his cape. "I had a whole opening, complete with jokes about bandits, bears, and a snake in one's boot for this next entry but I was reminded backstage that the man I'm introducing has two loaded guns and rarely misses, so..." He looked about and the portion of his face that could be seen painted a mask of nervousness. ".. without further delay, prepare to behold the astounding marksmanship of the ever canny Sam Federov!" With that he slapped the donkey's ass to send it ye-hawing to the curtains of the right side of the stage where Sam was waiting, as Bellamere exited stage left in quite a hurry, his cape fluttering behind him.
The old man emerged onto the stage, looking extremely annoyed. He gave Bellamere a look as he walked off. A fucking donkey? Really? He had SPECIFICALLY asked for as little pageantry as- Oh, forget it. It'd be fine. Probably. He had dressed himself up for the occasion, his black-grey hair slicked back neatly, his facial hair trimmed into a clean stubble, and the fanciest of his... like, three outfits, neatly ironed and looking pristine as he could manage. He gave a small, awkward wave as he approached the microphone, looking out across the crowd. Damn that's a lot of people. “Ahem... uh... this thing on?” Immediately the microphone boomed his voice out at an obscene volume, much to the old man's annoyance, at which point he simply smacked the damn thing as hard as he could to get it to work, before yelling something at the people backstage. Thankfully, it was out of the microphone's gain, but a few... imaginative curses could still be heard. Soon enough, the microphone was normal again. “Right... well... I didn't exactly sign up for this myself, but I'm here thanks to our posh dickhead of a host, so... here goes nothing.” *He gave a little side-eyed look towards Bellamere from onstage. Damn that posh little twat for making him do this. Well, might as well make it entertaining. He cleared his throat again.“Ok, well, then... Enough of ye know me so I'm not gonna bore ye wit' an introduction, but... well, I do have a few people I *would* like to introduce ye to...” He pulled the revolver from the holster on his right hip, holding it up for the crowd. A Colt Single Action Army, blackened steel with gold engravings. His black leather gloved hand gripped a shiny pearl handle, with a carving of a snake on it. Written down the barrel were the words; “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.”
“I'd like ta introduce you to my wife, this here is Ethel... an' I consider her to be the love o' my life.” He wore a playful grin as he held the gun up, aiming it at the ceiling every so often to check the sights. “She's a no-bullshitter, she's a straight shooter, an' she demands some respect” As he finished his sentence, six small targets popped up to his right, all in a line. His hand came up like a blur, his hand on the hammer, hitting them dead center in quick succession.
He paused, twirling his pistol and kissing the barrel, before taking out the gun on his left holster. It looked the exact same, but the engraving read "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." “It's Maria you can disrespect, she's a bit of a bitch.” Another target popped up to his left, this time with the outline of a person. Once again, within seconds, six shots split the target from its groin up to its head. He grinned, turning back to the audience. “Don't tell Ethel about Maria.” He spun both revolvers once more at his hip, grinning, before stopping to reload each of them in turn. “Now, I weren't quite sure what I was exactly gonna do to be entertainin', I mean... It ain't exactly my strong suit...” His guns finally loaded, he fished around in his pocket and produced a handful of coins, jingling them around in his hand. Six in all. “... But, well, I'm sure I can figure out somethin'...” He tossed them over his shoulder, then, leaning back like he was limboing, three shots from both revolvers pinged off of each of them in turn. Then, he leapt back up like a spring, his grin only growing wider.**Chuckling, he turned around and walked over near the back of the stage as he reloaded, where six shot glasses full of whiskey were sat in a line. He turned back to the audience, holstering his weapons.* “Now, I *was* gonna shoot these like the rest, but... well, I figured it's a waste o' good whiskey, so... Fuck it, it'll help my aim.” *With that, he went down the line and downed all six shots in turn, gasping a little by the time he reached the end. Afterwards, he walked up back towards the stage, and as he did so, took out one of his guns and shattered each glass without even turning around to look. He turned over his shoulder, seeing the targets all gone, and grinned.* “... Like I said, helps my aim.”
As he strode back towards the top of the stage, a target popped up on the left side of the stage. He looked at it and rolled his eyes, turning towards the audience as he reloaded both pistols. “Bit easy, don'tcha think?” With that, a brass ring on a rope fell from the rafters and he grinned.* “Much better." He walked over and spun it, hard, sending it spinning like a top between him and the target. Standing back, he raised his revolver and closed one eye, taking aim carefully...BANG! The bullet flew through the ring as it spun, hitting the target on the opposite side dead center. He chuckled, staying in place. This time, he turned his attention to a candle on the opposite side of the stage. “Well, I'll be damned... it ain't even my birthday...” *Once again, he took aim, this time with his other revolver, and exhaled slowly... **BANG!** Once he pulled the trigger, the candle went out, but it was completely unharmed. The bullet had flown just past the wick, enough to blow it out. Grinning, he blew the smoke from his barrel, and approached the microphone with a small bow.*“Well, I... I think that about wraps this up, really, er...” *He paused, a sly grin spreading across his face.* “Well, actually... I was *told* this was where it ended, but I'm pretty sure we got ourselves a few minutes left on the clock.” *He grinned widely, looking across the crowd. Who here was crazy enough... He spotted Sylista near the front.* “Perfect. You'll do, kid. Get on up here!” *He chuckled, only being able to imagine how much Bellamere must have been freaking out backstage.
Sylista's eyes were shining from the excitement of Federov's act, she had never seen anything like it before and it seemed dangerous fun. She burst into a smile, and all but ran to get up on stage. She looked much like she did those first few days after arriving in Rhy'din, the innocent fascination glowing on her skin.* "Are you going to teach me to shoot?"
He chuckled, patting her on the back and turning her towards the crowd as he muttered in her ear.* “Not exactly. Follow my lead.” *He turned back towards the audience, extending both arms to her as he walked offstage briefly.* “My dashing young assisant, the Lady Sylista, everybody!” *After a moment, he returned with a large spinning wheel with straps on it. The type magicians use to pull off knife tricks. He turned to call her over with a wink.* “Assistant, if you will...”
Sylista excitedly moved toward Federov, a curious look on her face.* "What is this?" *Her voice was quiet, but the excitement caused it to float to anyone listening, the words tinkling in the air like a windchime. It was hard to contain herself with this much excitement. She took a deep breath to try and quell the butterflies in her stomach.
He chuckled nervously.* “It's, uh... well, you'll find out. If you'll just place your hands in here, please.” *He motioned towards the leather straps at the top of the wheel, grinning, a little glint in his eye.
She gave an excited wiggle of her upper body before moving in position, her arms up in front of each leather strap. Her movements were bouncy, her skirts swishing around her legs with each of her movements.*
He very carefully tightens the straps around her wrists, and around her ankles, before getting a marker and drawing five large X marks. Between her head and her left arm, between her left arm and her left leg, between her left leg and her right leg, between her right leg and her right arm, and between her right arm and her head. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, he chuckles.* “Well, how could this possibly go wrong... You ready, kid?”
She bit her lip and looked at him, her expression had not faltered once. He picked the one kid in the crowd who was, in no way, afraid of death. Great choice, that.* "Are you going to shoot at me?" *Her words sounded like she was asking if he was giving her a present of some kind, like an excited child. Yep, great choice.
“Well, uh...” *He chuckled nervously, stepping back a little.* “... Strictly speaking, no, I'm gonna try shoot *around* you, but... well, let's hope I don't miss!” *Without another word of warning, he spun the wheel, hard, sending her spiralling, limbs spread out like a starfish. He stepped back, raising his pistol.* “Can I get a drumroll, please?” *As if on cue, someone backstage obliged, a drumroll rumbling quietly as he closed one eye and took a deep breath...
Sylista's gasped and then let out a squeal of joy. The feeling in the pit of her stomach so similar to the feeling when Federov took her out fast in his car. She was exhilarated. When that squeal ended, she was laughing the entire time.
After a nail-bitingly terrifying pause... **BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG!!** Five shots in quick succession. His gun smoking, he lowered it with a grin. Each target had been hit, and Sylista was totally unharmed. As he turned to bow for the audience, the wheel stopped spinning...*
"Um, Federov?" *Sylista hissed at the old man.* "Would. you. mind. terribly...**letting me down**?!" *The poor girl had ended up with her feet straight up in the air, her Victorian style pantaloons on display as the front of her dress slid down around her. She was very grateful that she had decided to listen to the women who made her dress and go entirely authentic.
The old man turned, suddenly looking even more embarrassed than her as he scrambled to undo the straps. He helped her down, and then up to her feet, cheeks flushed bright pink as he tried to hold in laughter.* “Uh... Sorry.” *He flashed a nervous grin, turning to the audience.* “Well that certainly wasn't planned, uh... Well, anyway...” *He held up his pistol.* “Five shots... seems I got one bullet left! And I think we have time for one more performance... Don't you?” *He turned to Sylista.
Her eyes narrowed at him, though she was still laughing and shaking her head.* "Absolutely, old man!" *She was having the time of her life.
He cracked his neck a little.* “Right then... you folks ever heard of Willaim Tell?” *Another grin spread across his mouth as he produced an apple from his pocket, moving over and gently setting it on Sylista's head.* “Hold still now, kid...” *He took a few steps back, but reconsidered...* “Too easy!” *With that, he stepped forward again, taking the apple and replacing it with a shot glass, into which he poured some whiskey... before shaking his head and taking the shot himself. Waste of drink! He left the empty glass on her head, and stepped back to the other end of the stage, raising his pistol with one bullet left.
Sylista held herself perfectly still with that shot glass resting on her head. She appeared enchanted with the whole process and did not dare take too deep of a breath.*
After another pause, he grinned again.* “Still too easy, hmm... Stand on one leg for me, kid!” *With that, he took out a small pocket mirror from his pocket, and turned his back to her. His right hand held the pistol, and he pointed it over his shoulder, the gun itself upside down. With his other hand, he peered through the mirror at her, one eye closed.* “... Yeah, best not be *too* fancy...”
Sylista stood on one leg which, given her endowments of grace and brawn, was an easy hold for her. She bit her lip and waited excitedly for the trick shot to occur. She was not clueless, realizing the point was for her to appear strained, she released her core muscles and relaxed her legs just enough that she appeared to wobble a bit.
The old man grinned widely, holding his breath to steady his hand. The barrel of his gun slowly moved ever so slightly, following each little twitch and wobble of her body, as he peered in through the mirror. Finally, after a long pause... BANG!! The glass shattered atop her head, yet she was unharmed. Spinning around to face the audience, he bowed once again, inviting Sylista to do the same, beaming from ear to ear.
She shook her head to get rid of the shards of glass in her hair.* "It is a good thing I have not done my hair yet, hm?" *She sparkled, having a very difficult time holding in her glamour, and gave a cute pose toward the crowd. When Federov turned to her again, she launched herself at him, wrapping him in a hug that resulted in her dangling nearly two feet off the ground. She released herself and dashed off the stage, joy radiating off of her.
Blushing ever so slightly from the hug, he chuckled, holstering his weapons for the final time as he gripped the microphone.* “I think I've taken up enough of your time, everyone... I hope you all enjoyed, have a good night, and I'll see you all at the bar later.” *He bowed once more, grinning widely and giving a wave as he walked offstage, leaving stagehands to clean up the broken glass and bullet casings.*
