Wow, baby.
Ladies and Gentlemen, lets get this show on the road. Open the curtains, throw back the velvet ropes, and shut the doors and them holes in your faces.
Its time for the show.
In one breath she’ll build you up, vibrato requiem echoing with seeping truth and seductivity……and slaughters promises in a heartbeat. The quick of the draw, a bipolar reaction as the female initially descended from oblivion. She was a gambling one, with enough sly continuity and brazen grit to get her through a rough spot or a tough crowd. With her performance as she sashayed gracefully, hours dripped to minutes as every movement etched its own bolero. There was no shutting those lips, compared to those shier counterparts of the identical epoch.
You’ll know her if you don’t, screaming a eccentric confidence which pulsates off a ruby pelt. Doomed to an untimely demise from the gambling, the life on the line and the love of the spontaneity. But her troubles took no weight upon her sleek shoulders as the filly made her entry.
I’m a star.
And the audience loves me.
And I love them, and they love me for loving them.
And I love them for loving them, and we love each other.
And that’s cause none of us got enough love in our childhoods.
And that’s showbiz, kid.
There were no complaints from the bypassed. Evil enough, malicious enough for them. There was enough bite in her gambling eyes to fight off the toughest of the boys.
And into this harsh dark world she descended to bring to it a comical spotlight. With an evil stereotype there was a certain uphold; to destroy any idea of happiness with a few choice words, turning all vividness to grayscale and fret. An untimely dooming to the lands below of fire and endless demonic callings. But a equine’s made of more than air, and with all that bulk you’re bound to see ‘em; see them crumble with an uneventful luster. Was it necessary to throw on the glitter, spark up your life and stick up your head for a nod and a spoken word? What a drab; the evils are a belief; more of a secular choosing than a choice of virtue.
And all that dreadful jazz.
But who’s into drowse and sorrow?
Give em’ the ol’ razzle dazzle; none of this slack, turned-down physique.
What ever happened to class? A “yes ma’am,” “how charming,” “may I,” They’re all bums, all snakes in the grass. She was shifty, as the sequins in her eyes; always alert and suspecting. But that’s something that good ol’ Roxy just happened to possess. But enough of the narrations, monologues cant prepare you for this surprise.
Its time to set you free, Roxy, unprotected from your lush velvet curtains of the showbiz, of the lies and the gambling, the cheating and the stealing of a Broadway life. Your choices are no longer mine to puppet; you are your own being.
She’ll carry on the legacies that her martini drinking, cigarette flicking, mink draped predecessors could not. That brief moment of glamour and the disappeared with the wind. This one was here to stay, every bit of her façade just waiting for that chance to appear behind her spark and smoke, explode onto the stage with surge of emotion and a beaming confidence. Every inch of the youth’s mold waited her time in the Chicago bright lights.
A light and wiry frame, draped with a coat of electric red stretched seamlessly upon her limber frame. A thin neck arched, just itching for a string of extravagant pearls. Her short, juvenile tuft of a mane had not chosen a side of her arched jugular, and it fought with complex dexterity. She’ll get you tapping your toes and bobbing your heads, and you can’t help but part your cold lips for a beaming grin by the end. That’s what she’s here for, so take advantage of the newfound ball of thespian energy. Her face was angled, as were her legs willowy; but stygian orbs shone with a gleam of the Broadway that could not be ignored. Two snake eyes, they watched and were as shifty as the die. She was a gamble; but a worthy bet.
Cue that saxophone solo, honey. Roxy’s parting the curtains.
This description set upon the others as a long awaited theatrical poster, there was much to expect of one so young; and supposedly helpless. And on those gangly, stiletto limbs she carried herself with unsurpassed feminine grace, whole body dancing to that jazz rhythm constantly coursing about a nimble frame.
Skidding to a sudden stop, rusted oculs peer with a glowing interest to the setting about her. And acting about as the youth often does, the imagination surged through exited orbs, setting the celestial orb of light above her as her one and only spotlight as she grandly displayed an aesthetically grand entrance.
Featuring:
The Eccentric:
Roxy
Undoubtedly
Female
Years in Showbiz
None; just a youngster
Draped In:
Red. Ruby red.
The Hollywood Story:
Nothing much to say; she’s not secretive, just doesn’t mention her parents. It doesn’t come up, she holds no resentment, and most don’t know how this exuberant filly flounced onto their lands. But she has; and has fended for herself thus far.
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and that's chicago -- Carcajou's player, 21:50:31 04/17/03 Thu [1]
...Come on babe, why don't we paint the town? And all that jazz! I'm gonna rouge my knees and wear my stockings down... and all that jazz! Start the car, I know a whoopie spot where the gin is cold but the piano's hot; it's just a noisy hall where there's a nightly brawl and all... that... jazz!
...It's good, isn't it? Grand, isn't it? Great, isn't it? Swell, isn't it? Fun, isn't it, nowadays.
I LOVE THAT MOVIE. Sorry to ruin your excellent post. Please ignore me; I'm just celebrating the long weekend.
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Wacka doo....... -- Roxy's player, 00:27:05 04/18/03 Fri [1]
Bash yes, it was brilliant! I was listening to the soundtrack and went "hey......that'd be a fun character to try." *is still listening to it* Im pitiful; I cant WAIT for it on video, its no longer in theatre's around here.
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Small world! -- Megan, 00:59:18 04/18/03 Fri [1]
I love that movie! I'm listening to the soundtrack right now too... "Of a perfect... double... act!"
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How peculiar! -- Roxy's player, 02:34:19 04/18/03 Fri [1]
LoL! yes, I LOVE it too.....but does anyone want to post to my poor dear? *pets her neurotic pistol Roxy*
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I'm just curious how old she is exactly... -- Megan, 19:42:48 04/18/03 Fri [1]
I have someone who would post but I'm afraid to say he's too high n' mighty to talk to her if she's just a foal.
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I'll post!! *Squeals* -- Zamnor and Player, 20:03:19 04/18/03 Fri [1]
I had read your post earlier and meant to post, but unfortunately I didn't get around to it. Darlin', your post is WILD! It's AMAZING! It captures the spirit of the movie completely!
And... just for the heck of it I'll add... I loved that movie soooooooooooooooooo much!!!!!
Whew. Well then, let's scoot this bucker into the open.
The shinning lights of neither Chicago nor Broadway lit up this poor lad, but a special light of his own lit up everyone else. Like two spotlights centering upon the beauty of the stage, his optics, resplendent and keen, locked onto the young femme; her grand entrance was not lost upon him.
Soft steps carries the youth forward as he smiles, his gaze never leaving the filly's face as he performs a bow. When he returns his dial to its proper place above, he welcomes warmly as he thought a prince ought to.
"Greetings. My name's Zamnor, what's yours?"
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(Why thank ya! I appreciate that kinda stuff from people lol;' I dun hear it often :-P ) -- Roxy, 22:16:31 04/18/03 Fri [1]
Upon the wiry frame, a lanky shoulder pulsed to the internal beat, simper indisputably cast upon angled features. And in her own rendition, the filly began to execute her tango. Her nimble legs intertwined flawlessly underneath the eye of the other before her.
Spotlight’s on you, babe. Shine.
Ruby pelt danced beneath the celestial orb of light, flames rippling upon her silken attire. Her willowy appendages were not skittering beneath her in nervousness; just skittering. An unwound nature, she could face eyes to any, but not with any solemn demeanor.
Brilliantly glowing eyes raised with a gambling caution to the esteemed one before her. Her form tensed, a casual front splayed across her conduct. They performed a silent duet, upstaging any others that could surround them. Dainty hooves clopped eloquently upon the sturdy labyrinth beneath her, and she stood brazenly, a non-threatening emposure, but nevertheless unafraid.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Roxy and Zamnor performing the Showtime Rag.
A minion of questions spun throughout the eyes of the dubious youth. An unexpected and erratic toss of a tiny head, and there eyes were intertwined, scoping with a curious mischieve *I definitely made up that word*.
She watched the other, crazily influenced by an overactive imagination and an unrealistic determination. Beneath the glamour and the grace lay a feeble creature, lacking in anything wholesome. But lying, that was something she was good at. She mastered the skill with ease, just as one would a chastè or a possè. And so, as she inwardly felt intimidated by the presence of the other, her outside whirled with eloquence.
Had she a long cigarette she'd be tipping it.
"Hey; Im Roxy. And what might I have the fine pleasure of calling you?"
Her eyes danced as the dice rolled, not without a slight submissiveness. She wasn’t imposing; wasn’t being rude. She was being Roxy; that hyperactive kid that never got enough of the show. Her ears flipped back in forth rythmetically, awaiting a response lazily.
No were to go, nothing to do.
I got no reason to hurry.
Spotlights on you, kid.
Spill it Zamnor.
((dont remind me that it sucks; but there's so many posts to do, so little time!))
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(Well...) -- Zamnor, 08:43:38 04/22/03 Tue [1]
(You're going to be hearing it from me pretty often if you continue the line of "dont remind me that it sucks..." Because, m'dear, it doesn't.
And now, on with the show.)
"You can call me Zamnor."
A grin accompanies his name, flashing in his dark eyes like a sign hanging over Broadway. He isn't the actor, so he'll get off the stage, but first... The colt makes no move to step closer to the young female, although his tail whips around his hocks with the authority of a horse who's been around.
"And this is Death Valley, the home of the king. Will you be staying, Roxy?"
With a simple question he turns the spotlight onto her, the white, hot light shinning down from the black heavens as he awaits patiently for her reply.
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(well blush, blush :-P) -- Roxy, 22:55:27 04/22/03 Tue [1]
((lol.....Im completely flattered, why thank you))
Little and alone, in front of those millions, all mouth agape and uttering sighs of laughter.
And it didnt bother her a bit.
The spotlight beat down upon her harder than a stern hand could upon her damp attire. And she was OK with that; the lights werent gelled, and yet amongst the other washed out members of the core she still stood, vibrantly glowing without flaunting her beauty outwardly. The whites of her eyes showed curiously as her orbs fluttered, the dice rolled.
Crazy 8’s, baby.
The gangly legs stood, and suddenly our Broadway Star wasn’t walking with such grace upon her high heels. Her physique was cumbersome and gangly; it was no longer the eloquent grace she had strived for and desired. She'd let down her hair, taken off the heels and walked back stage to speak alone with Zamnor. There was no need for them to compete in the spotlight; they could talk evenly on the level as equines, and there was a line to be drawn; but she was OK with that.
The last applause, thats all folks, no more encores, I'll see you tomorrow. I got places to go and people to see.
Her graceful limbs, toned and used to ambiance despite her formative years, pivoted with adequate grace to those on point to face him as a filly, and filly alone. Angled face now completely studying that of the colt, the sequins glowing in her orbs had neutralized to a sympathetic, and playful imposure. The sequin fluttered beneath the light, and the threw a snazzy wink, voice replying with a 1950's drawl.
"Zamnor? I got it."
She stops to ponder the lands with increasing like; there were many, and they were ambiable enough to at least SPEAK to her; that was something.
"Yeah; if its OK with you I mean; I'd love to stay."
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(*Smug grin* You better be flattered.) -- Zamnor, 22:44:17 04/23/03 Wed [1]
The stage left behind, Zamnor appears to immediately loosen and relax. As I mentioned before: he isn't much of an actor. He grins, he laughs, and he sighs... but he's never the cause. He holds admiration for the filly, who steps so easily off and on the exacting stage.
"It would be great if you stayed!" The restless flints perform a brief tap dances, his excitement clearly expressed. "You'll love it here!"
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Ending fonts and watching. -- Megan, 09:49:34 04/27/03 Sun [1]
Do you play a lot of other characters, Roxy's player? (Sorry I dunno your name...)
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Re: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present...... -- Roxy, 11:15:24 05/03/03 Sat [1]
(ACK SORRY! Im so sorry I didnt close my fonts!!!! *hides* AND Im sorry it took me so long to reply....Im in Guys and Dolls and we just opened last Friday, so my usual RP nights have been swamped with performances and celebration dinners :-P But as far as other characters......*mischevious grin...mayyyyybe, lol. You know my player, anywhoo. A couple of my more notable characters being Sea Wolf and *cough*ArmyandKhastin*cough*)
The petite frame with thundering dexterity lit up stygian orbs with juvinile delight; there was finally that one that looked at her in the group, at her as a foal, as her as a being. Under those sweating lights and meticulous inspection the audience slipped past a charismatic persona and focused on the scuffed character shoes, the broken buckles and hand-made attire; and although his actions were meerely amiable, she found them overwhelmingly the most kindness known to her, and it was appreciated.
"Gee I sure hope so.....lotta horses around here." Her eyes wandered as the dice tossed, excitement quivering in her every decisive muscle.
"You lived here all your life?"
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No problem. -- Zamnor, 17:00:28 05/03/03 Sat [1]
He nods vigorously, his mane splattering along the length of his neck. "All my life! Though, not that long since I'm only three and half." He grins. "There's also Dad and Aunt Maleah, who you'll probably meet later." Calming a bit, the colt cocks his head inquiringly. "Is there anything you want to do?"
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WHOO HOO! Computer is back and ALIVE! *grumbles* Viruses.....grrrr.... -- Roxy, 17:59:03 05/08/03 Thu [1]
She shrugged her embellished shoulders with a lack of enthusiasm, humbly ready to let the wiser take the dance solo. He knew more, was more accostomed to this stage and its ways. So until she knew it like the back of her nimble hand; it was best to leave the abrupt decision making to Zamnor.
"Not in peticular. If you want, we could go exporing or something...."
Her voice trailed in a nonchalant drawl, but still audible. Never a voice teacher of hers would here her mumble or scraggle that brilliantly demure voice of hers. In any case, her sleek ruby shoulders rose and fell with her words.
Up to you, babe.
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Whatever you want, deary. -- Zamnor, 19:23:31 05/12/03 Mon [1]
Zamnor pauses with her words, sending her a thoughtful look. Indeed he knows more about the land, but about her interests he knows not a bit. Understandably this makes the decision a little more difficult than it would have been if he were considering one of his closer friends. If he had been human he would have been tapping his fingers against his chin in thought, his sable gaze sweeping the land mercilessly for entertainment. Then he smiles. His equine features smoothing as the ponderous shadow relieves his young dial.
"Exploring's a good place to start," he agrees merrily, his eyes twinkling as he steps firmly out of the dance. Dancing isn't his thing, as he knows from experience, but fun certainly is. "Would you like to start here or somewhere else?"
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Bum bum bum bada bum.......bored. -- Roxy, 00:50:29 05/14/03 Wed [1]
The tap shoes fly off her dainty feet excitedly, ready to get grundy and urban. The music stopped and the stage lights were up; only the music of the nature and their sharp hooves would keep her internal rythmn satisfied.
"Sounds brilliant! Here would be cool....."
She shifts weight from foot to foot, bobbing frail, ruby-tinged shoulders with each contemplating sway.
"Where ever you wanna start here is cool with me."
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Wonderfully fun! -- Zamnor, 22:13:17 05/18/03 Sun [1]
He ears twitch in a grin of amusement, his own flints striking the earth lightly as steps a brief pattern of front and back. "Well...there's the stream, the various meadows -- and then there's the forest."
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Indeed! -- Roxy, 23:12:35 05/20/03 Tue [1]
Her eyes shown brilliantly at the mention of the forest. Sylvan atmospheres had intrigued her; she had only entered one of the arbored landscapes momentarily in her lifetime.
Backstage is always the best.
"Forest, huh?"
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Ya interested? -- Zamno, 23:21:17 05/21/03 Wed [1]
Sensing her interest quickly, he pauses his steps, grinning. 
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