<strong>Reginald Carter, The Sacrificial Playwright</strong><br/><strong>Location: Reginald's Theatre, night time</strong><br/><strong>Tagged:Noelle James, Deva</strong><br/><br/>During the intermission, several people were working to set up the next painted background, a truly beautiful mural, much like the last one. This one, however, depicted what seemed to be the interior of a cloistered monastery, resplendent with religious iconography that would likely be appealing to those angelic beings that were privy to his play.<br/><br/>Deva manages to go, for the most part, unnoticed, for all the other workers that were cleaning and setting things up wore plain clothes, with no uniformity of garb.  They also tended to be more focused on doing their job than on who was around, though a few do eye Noelle.<br/><br/>As it so happens, he currently was in the midst of re-reading some of the script he had written, just as a refresher to himself. He may hide it well, for he was quite good at only portraying the parts of him he wanted others to see, but he was a bit, shall we say, nervous.<br/><br/>"Ah-ha! I recognize that honey sweet voice!" He would say, a flamboyant and slightly foppish smile on his face, though the basket-helmet, despite the small strands cut out of it to allow visibility and for him to speak without being unduly muffled, still managed to hide the expression.<br/><br/>As she wove the flowers into the basket-helmet, he showed no care or concern for it. In fact, he would quite enthusiastically declare "Brilliant idea. It is very fitting of the character." Because surely this was not some idle eccentricity on her part, it had to be nothing less than pure, unadulterated genius.<br/><br/>Perhaps that is a bit exaggerated, but, exaggeration is part and parcel of the Reginald experience. And it is sincere, to a high degree; he genuinely held her in high esteem. Her prose was powerfully moving, and he had a deep-seated respect and platonic love of those who, like him, knew how to weave a tale with words.<br/><br/>"I am so glad to see you in attendance. And come now, you can't compliment me until after the show. It's bad luck, don't you know!" He said in a chastising way that was highly playful, and not at all meant as a real chastisement. Besides that, she'd know him, and that he's not really the superstitious (Or religious) type.<br/><br/>His attention would briefly turn away from her, and towards the woman he saw talking to herself. He hmm'd quietly, and wondered what that was about; and the strange glow that he thought he saw encompassing her. He chalked this up, however, to some aspect of the basket-helmet mucking around with his vision; it really was quite hard to see out of the thing.<br/><br/><em>"Hey, come on, hurry up, show's about to start." </em>One of the stage-hands would say to Deva. Apparently, her deception had gone unnoticed by everyone, as she was now being ushered towards the room where the stage hands would wait for the next intermission.<br/><br/>"Alas, I must ask you, my dear Noelle, to return to your seat. Part two of four will be starting soon."