RoosterTeeth Puppet Theatre - ‘Sweary Jaune’
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The Parisian Harpist and a Little Minx


Maybe it was her inner Parisian that always told her to go to France when she wanted to travel. She had been to so many different places but out of them all she had been France countless times. You would think that after her encounter in la theatre that she wouldn’t want to go back but something inside her always told her to go. Maybe it was the fresh smell of baguettes that she couldn’t eat, or the sound of the french language from other mouths then her own, or perhaps even the rich French blood from her victims.

The reason didn’t matter to her thought. Before she know it she was off New Orleans land and on her way to Paris, France. She had been there enough times to have a place made for her to stay. The finest of hotel rooms in the beautiful Le Tremoille. With her speed she could get anywhere from there. There were plenty of beautiful museums and a theatre, l'arc de triomphe. Just thinking about it excited her.

In a hotel room on the highest floor of the hotel she rest on a soft bed gazing out the open balcony door to the night sky. Of course during the day the staff knew not to enter her room and that the curtains were fixed firmly. If she was brave enough and trusted the staff and curtains not to other her she would sleep in the beautiful bed, if not she rest in a beautiful chest that was of course big enough and small enough for her. Using the mind gift she would lock it so that it wouldn’t open by accident.

Though as she was gazing out that night she heard a sound that was unfamiliar to her ears. Though nothing made her jump to her feet and rush out onto the balcony then this sound. A Harp. A Harp being played beautifully and she didn’t hear that often. She blamed Lestat for her love of music but it was only herself she could blame when she jumped from the top floor balcony onto the ground to follow the sound. Of course she was unharmed but that doesn’t mean she should have done it but she didn’t care.

She lifted her head as she listened to the sound once more before turning and following it. Such a beautiful sound it was, she could only imagine how it would sound with her piano playing. Then her thoughts went to the harpist, curious to who he or she was. Though it didn’t matter now as she found herself suddenly stopping in front of un autre hotel. Of course the pride in her told her that her hotel was better but that was of no importance. She felt something she hadn’t expected to feel. The presence of someone strong. Could it be that the harpist was one of her kind and an elder at that? This cause both excitement and fear to run through her. But of course her curiosity always won over. She wasn’t going to stop now. She glanced up, following the sound only to spot a balcony. It was to perfect.

From her place on the ground she could see the open door and knew that the music was slipping out from there. She quickly measured the distance before kicking of the ground and climbed onto the balcony. She didn’t completely have the cloud gift but she had enough strength to meet her goal either way. She tried to be as quite as possible but she knew the elder would be able to hear her. She quietly and nervously slipped to the entrance of the door as she hide her body behind the large curtain before peering inside silently.