Post by sommarsno on Nov 27, 2022 20:05:19 GMT 9
A stage of hard wood, of a vibrant almost white color, sanded over and painted with a protective sealing polish. To either side leading backstage, metal double-doors much like you'd find just outside of an old saloon carved and shaped with complex, swirl and spade-like designs. Spotlights beaming down onto the stage, each with a cowboy hat strapped atop it.
That last one didn't really fit the ideal gothic-western theming, but the person who set up the lights thought it'd be funny, so there they are.
The audience seating was padded rows of benches in three sections, each with armrests that could be put down every person-width or more apart offering comfort comparable to the backs of the seats, which begged watchers and listeners to sink back into it and forget that the world around them physically existed. All except for the light. All except for the stage. The stage which one red-haired girl climbed up onto while looking for her snivy. It was impressive how fit she could be in this game, pulling herself up onto a stage taller than she was to find the curious Rosett pushing open the aforementioned backstage saloon doors over and over as the lizard kept leaping up through them.
"Yeesh, Rosett!" Sommarsnö clambered up to her feet after dragging herself onto the smooth and almost slippery stage floor. "Can we stop for one minute? I do not know how you are so often having energy!"
The grass-type replied to the kindler only after spiking open the metal door once again back onto the stage. "How can you not in such a sunny place?!" It exclaimed with its tiny arms out.
"Hah... ah, well, that is the lights, is it not...?" She didn't want to rain on Rosett's parade, but the pokemon really should learn to understand the difference between a lamp and the actual sun as soon as possible.
"The light's bright, right? For a girl named Summer, you sure don't get it!" Her own starter pokemon struggled to pronounce her name, so she settled for Rosett to call her a more native word. Sure enough, the snivy took right to it, just like it took to jumping through the flap-like doors once again.
With an exhausted groan, she decided that as long as her pokemon was content to waste its energy on a single backstage door, she could take a few moments to look around and relax herself. She faced the audience and her dreams began to slowly grip her heart. She imagined people in all those seats, then gulped as she wished them away for the sake of her nerves. She didn't really have a genuine fear of public speaking or being onstage, but her debut would also set the tone of her entire idolized existence from that point onwards, and that alone was terrifying for someone like Sommarsnö. She cleared her throat and took a breath in.
"Do~o re~e mi~i, fa~a so~o, la~a, ti~iiiii~!" She tested the acoustics of the hall and found that once she reached the upper end of the scale and pushed a bit more depth into her voice, it would echo and vibrate all the way in the back of the room. There was nothing western or gothic about that sound. That was heavenly if anything.
She couldn't help but to grin and get the idea to have a 'first time before the first time'. The rehearsal not as planned as she hoped her future performances would be, she posed as though she were holding a microphone and began to sing a song. Not in English like she would have to for her entire singing career, but a pop rock song in her native tongue just for funsies.
"Och de säger att stan har blivit tyst och ful och öde, älskling,
Att det kommer bli en lång kall vinter.
Jag har lärt mig att saknaden är värst när nån har sovit som ett barn, genom en iskall vinter...
Du är min hjälte för du vå~gar va~ra rak, du är min hjälte för du ä~r preci~s så svag.
Som jag och hjälp mig, jag behö~ver dig igen, igen, ige~eeeen~!"
Tuesday
That last one didn't really fit the ideal gothic-western theming, but the person who set up the lights thought it'd be funny, so there they are.
The audience seating was padded rows of benches in three sections, each with armrests that could be put down every person-width or more apart offering comfort comparable to the backs of the seats, which begged watchers and listeners to sink back into it and forget that the world around them physically existed. All except for the light. All except for the stage. The stage which one red-haired girl climbed up onto while looking for her snivy. It was impressive how fit she could be in this game, pulling herself up onto a stage taller than she was to find the curious Rosett pushing open the aforementioned backstage saloon doors over and over as the lizard kept leaping up through them.
"Yeesh, Rosett!" Sommarsnö clambered up to her feet after dragging herself onto the smooth and almost slippery stage floor. "Can we stop for one minute? I do not know how you are so often having energy!"
The grass-type replied to the kindler only after spiking open the metal door once again back onto the stage. "How can you not in such a sunny place?!" It exclaimed with its tiny arms out.
"Hah... ah, well, that is the lights, is it not...?" She didn't want to rain on Rosett's parade, but the pokemon really should learn to understand the difference between a lamp and the actual sun as soon as possible.
"The light's bright, right? For a girl named Summer, you sure don't get it!" Her own starter pokemon struggled to pronounce her name, so she settled for Rosett to call her a more native word. Sure enough, the snivy took right to it, just like it took to jumping through the flap-like doors once again.
With an exhausted groan, she decided that as long as her pokemon was content to waste its energy on a single backstage door, she could take a few moments to look around and relax herself. She faced the audience and her dreams began to slowly grip her heart. She imagined people in all those seats, then gulped as she wished them away for the sake of her nerves. She didn't really have a genuine fear of public speaking or being onstage, but her debut would also set the tone of her entire idolized existence from that point onwards, and that alone was terrifying for someone like Sommarsnö. She cleared her throat and took a breath in.
"Do~o re~e mi~i, fa~a so~o, la~a, ti~iiiii~!" She tested the acoustics of the hall and found that once she reached the upper end of the scale and pushed a bit more depth into her voice, it would echo and vibrate all the way in the back of the room. There was nothing western or gothic about that sound. That was heavenly if anything.
She couldn't help but to grin and get the idea to have a 'first time before the first time'. The rehearsal not as planned as she hoped her future performances would be, she posed as though she were holding a microphone and began to sing a song. Not in English like she would have to for her entire singing career, but a pop rock song in her native tongue just for funsies.
"Och de säger att stan har blivit tyst och ful och öde, älskling,
Att det kommer bli en lång kall vinter.
Jag har lärt mig att saknaden är värst när nån har sovit som ett barn, genom en iskall vinter...
Du är min hjälte för du vå~gar va~ra rak, du är min hjälte för du ä~r preci~s så svag.
Som jag och hjälp mig, jag behö~ver dig igen, igen, ige~eeeen~!"
Tuesday
