Krel Tarron had come to quite enjoy having friends. Claire would often be genuinely intrigued by his projects, and Douxie had an inventive streak of his own after so many centuries of watching Earth's technology develop, not to mention a massive mental catalog of music that Krel regularly sampled from.
Perhaps even more enjoyable than this, however, was the fact he could work on his projects somewhere comfortable while his friends chatted and laughed around him, nearby but not usually encroaching unless one wanted a closer look at something he was doing. It was incredibly pleasant.
Tonight, Jim was cooking in the Mothership's kitchen while Claire, Douxie, Toby, Darci, Steve, and Mary all chatted in a large, loose circle, consisting of the couches, a couple chairs, and some large bean bags the Trollhunters had gifted to Krel. He sat in the corner of the sectional, listening intently- he liked having an extra task or two for his mind to work on while he tinkered, and conversation in the background was quite suitable at the moment.
"I swear this always happens," Claire was complaining. "You can't get boys to audition for plays to save their lives, I'm pretty sure."
"Unless they're trying to impress girls," Toby nodded.
"Hey now, that's not true!" Jim called out. "Sometimes we're trying to cover up why we're wearing full plate armor in a school locker room."
Everyone chuckled at that, and Douxie sighed afterwards.
"Not to mention finding boys who can act, sing, and dance," he said, rubbing his neck- he was supervising choreography. It turned out his age had also made him the perfect candidate to teach the cast period-accurate dance. "Maybe Phantom of the Opera was an ambitious choice to show off Arcadia's new theater..."
"What is 'Phantom of the Opera'?" Krel piped up. Though his knowledge of Earth had expanded greatly in the past few years, he still lacked many of the common or cultural details his friends had been raised with.
"It's a really well known Broadway musical," Darci explained, and Krel nodded a bit in thanks.
Turning to Claire, Darci added, "Let me guess, you can't get anyone for Raoul?"
Claire sighed and flopped her head back. "We've got Phantom, we've got Christine-"
"Oh, they cast someone for Christine? When?" Douxie sat up.
"Yesterday, I guess you hadn't heard," Claire said. "Someone named Cara Williams. It's her first time acting, but apparently she's a huge Phantom nerd."
"Well, at least she'll know her parts," Douxie noted. "Toby, Mary, you're our publicity team, how do you think we could get some Raoul auditions going?"
"Raoul's part is basic enough there's just no interest," Mary said.
"His connections don't compel people, you know? Not like the messed-up stuff between Christine and the Phantom," Toby said.
Krel blinked. "That's ridiculous," he interjected. "Focusing entirely on unhealthy dynamics sounds like a very tiring story."
Claire blinked, then looked at Toby, and they both looked at Krel. "Well, the story is kind of about that," Claire explained. "It's about this girl named Christine who lives in an opera house and trains as a ballerina, and as she grows up, she believes the spirit of her deceased father has been training her to sing, when in actuality it's been the Phantom of the Opera, who lives underneath the place and knows all the ins and outs of the building.
"He's trained her until she's almost entirely under his control, and she thinks this voice she hears is some amazing blessing. And then the management of the opera house changes, and these new managers don't comply with the Phantom's demands, and things just start getting- messy. And of course it doesn't help that Raoul comes in as the new patron of the opera house."
"What does he do?" Krel prompted, intrigued.
"Well, it turns out he was childhood friends with Christine and tries to reconnect with her," Douxie explained, "but the Phantom doesn't like that. He treats Christine like property, like she's something that's owed to him, that belongs to him. He hypnotizes and kidnaps her and tries to force her to accept him, whereas Raoul offers this contrasting relationship where he's regularly letting Christine make her own choices and fighting for her personal agency in the face of the Phantom and the managers."
Claire cut back in. "He's there to portray an imperfect, realistically healthy counterpoint, and ultimately the story upholds that standard of consent and personal choice. It's actually pretty complex- the issue is it's set in an opera house, which means all the main singers have to have unbelievable range. Raoul's part is the easiest of the three main characters, and that is not saying much."
Krel shrugged. "I think I could do it."
The entire room stared at him, and Toby started to grin.
"Can you sing?" Claire immediately checked.
"Decently," Krel said, "but I'm sure I could learn if talent is insufficient. I'm a quick study when it comes to music."
"And he can dance," Toby offered.
"At the very least it could raise interest if DJ Kleb is auditioning for the part," Mary noted.
"I'll give it a shot," Krel decided. "Claire, when do auditions end?"
"In a couple weeks. We had to extend them," Claire said. "Thank you, Krel. I was starting to worry that they might cancel the production altogether."
Krel offered a smile. "Of course. And hey, if I don't get it, perhaps I could assist your tech crew."
"No!" Toby said quickly. "Uh- it's fine, they've got it covered."
Krel raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't do what I did at Area 49-B, Toby. These people would know what they're doing."
"Krel, no one knows what they're doing compared to you," Jim said dryly to scattered laughter.
"I would like to point out," Steve offered, "I already auditioned for Raoul, and I didn't get the part, so I don't know how you'll do, Krel."
"Uh-huh. Very concerning," Krel deadpanned, and there were several violent snorts.
He shook his head with a smile. "I'll brush up on some singing techniques and find a suitable audition piece," he told Claire.
She smiled. "Good. I can come along to help with details when you're ready."
***
Krel stood off to one side of the large, gleaming stage that adorned the forefront of Arcadia's new theater. Claire had been working with him on character details, and Douxie had taught him a bit of singing technique, so now he was waiting in a short line of other young men auditioning for Raoul. Mary had been right about his involvement raising awareness; some of the other boys were actually quite good.
Secretly, Krel had begun to hope he wouldn't get the part. Working with his friends to prepare had made it clear to him that this was not as simple as he had heretofore anticipated.
The line seemed to move much too quickly, and before long Krel was introducing himself to the director and a handful of cast members. Foremost among them were a young man with a sharp, heavy, rectangular jaw, slightly sunken cheeks and dirty blonde hair, and a short young woman with a soft, tapered diamond face shape framed by long, vibrant ginger hair.
They started with the singing audition, and Krel performed "Bring Him Home" from another play called "Les Miserables". Douxie had sworn by it, and indeed, the redhead sitting with the director seemed quite impressed. The director herself even offered an eyebrow raise.
There was then a segment testing his capacity for acting the character. Claire had advised Krel to lean into his royal upbringing for this part, as Raoul was a Vicomte. Krel had handled nobility all his life and knew precisely how to behave, and he believed he imitated the mannerisms quite well.
The director turned to the girl beside her once he was done. "Well, Christine," she said, "what do you think?"
"This one. I like him," 'Christine'- though Krel assumed that was her part, not her name -replied with a smile. "He has a sweet tone to his voice and he has the regality that a Vicomte de Chagny should have without really even trying. And he's got a gentleness about him that suits Raoul perfectly."
The director nodded. She looked at Krel. "Thank you, Mr. Tarron. I'll contact you and let you know whether you've got the part within the week."
Krel bowed slightly. "Thank you, Director," he replied before quickly removing himself from the stage. He enjoyed such a location under normal circumstances, but under the analytical gaze of someone judging his performance? Not so much.
He was long gone when 'Christine' turned to the director. "So he's got the part, right?"
"Oh, absolutely," the director nodded in response.
***
Douxie had a hard time shaking the habit of night patrol after so many years. He would trade off with the Trollhunters now, but he found sleep often still eluded him, so he would often wander the streets with Archie regardless.
He was seeing how long he could kick a can around town without losing it when he sensed something off- something wrong, nearby. It felt like an oncoming storm, invisible and roiling, made of dark magic.
Douxie ducked into an alleyway, grabbing Archie as he went. Normally Archie would protest, but he could hear how Douxie's pulse had quickened and his breathing sped up.
Douxie hurried down the dark, narrow passage and tucked himself amongst abandoned boxes and trash bags, internally groaning but well aware he needed cover. From what, he wasn't certain- its aura was dark, chaotic, and almost gave off a sort of heat, like a large fire somewhere in the semi-distance.
Douxie worked to quiet and even his breathing, listening and watching the shadows intently. Then, at an intersection where another alley crossed the one where Douxie hid, he saw it.
It had the build of a person, but they were garbed entirely in black, with some sort of mark in a dull red on one side of the back; its face was shrouded in oozing, swirling shadow, eyes glowing. It looked around, and Douxie stayed stock-still, repeatedly telling himself his hiding place was sufficient. After several moments where it felt like Douxie's heart took a tour of his esophagus, the person- thing- whatever, moved on.
Douxie waited until its aura had gone with it before letting out a soft, shaky breath.
"That's new," Archie commented, quiet and unsettled as well.
Douxie shuddered. "It almost found us," he mumbled. "Could you feel it?"
Archie nodded. "I think we'd better get someplace safe."
Douxie, still holding his familiar, slipped out of hiding and quickly beelined it for home.
***
Since becoming queen, Aja had gone out of her way to try to get to know the different noble families. She already knew the basics- the Noble Houses fell into either the Peacekeeper, Combat, or Services guilds. Each house had somewhat of a specialty, though individuals, of course, varied- and that's what Aja wanted to know, who had which strengths she could use to her advantage.
Tselitels were healers; Stroitel, inventors and architects; Okhotnik, trackers and hunters; Kryl'ya, pilots; Perevodchik, linguists; Ispolnitel, performers; Bronya, physical powerhouses of strength; and Mirotvorets, diplomats. Then there was House Okhrana, once protectors of the Royals- but they had died off when Aja and Krel were young.
But deceased Houses were not Aja's focus today. Currently, she was chasing down information on a young man a kelton or so older than her, a member of the Mirotvorets family and apparently gifted in both his family's diplomacy as well as piloting spacecraft. He'd been working his way up the ranks of his House as long as Aja could remember, hoping to take over the position once his uncle Tugar retired. Word was, he'd ceased such attempts since the coup, and Aja hoped to encourage him to start up again- word was he had a good head on his shoulders, and she wanted reliable, intelligent people on her Council.
She stepped into the hangars where the Akiridion fleet resided and quietly asked a guard for directions.
She followed the guard's guidance to a boy with cool, medium blue hair and light, clear blue skin working on a maintenance check on one of the smaller fighters.
"Denar Mirotvorets?" She asked, and he yelped and fumbled his tool.
Catching it by only the barest margin, Denar cleared his throat, pale greenish-blue eyes widening as he saw Aja. "I am he. What do you need, Your Majesty?"
"Aja, please," Aja smiled a bit. "I have heard quite a bit about you, but I wanted to meet you for myself."
Denar relaxed somewhat. "Likewise, I had heard you were talking to nobles. So I'm not in trouble? Excellent."
Aja laughed. "Why would you be in trouble?"
Denar flushed, glowing a brighter blue. "I have a bad habit of messing with the ships' designs. The engineers are... less than appreciative."
"You do engineering as well?" Aja prompted.
Denar shook his head. "Not really, Your M- Aja. I dabble a little. Mostly I notice the way the designs change the way the ships fly, and I mess around with what I know based on that... which makes the engineers even less appreciative, heh."
"They all sound like my brother," Aja waved a hand. "Sticklers, each and every one of them."
Denar blinked. "What is a 'stickler'?"
"Ah, sorry- one of the terms I picked up on Earth," she explained. "Someone who is strict about doing things to certain specifications."
"Ah. Then, yes, they are all sticklers," Denar said dryly.
Aja hummed a chuckle. "You're every bit the pilot I had heard you were, then- and word is you're as fine a diplomat as any Mirotvorets."
Denar narrowed his eyes a bit. "Are you sure you don't want something? That's an awful lot of flattery."
Aja sighed a bit. "Admittedly, I do have somewhat of an ulterior motive. I need good people on my Council- people I know and trust. It's been nearly the customary time since my ascension to the throne- I'll have to choose an entirely new Council. And I need to know the people helping me make decisions to rule the entire planet."
Denar straightened, eyebrows shooting up. "And you- you thought of me? Why?"
"I had heard you were trying to maneuver into getting the position before the coup," Aja said. "What changed?"
Denar swallowed and looked at the ship. "It's... I suppose not personal, but embarrassing. Out of line, even."
Aja raised an eyebrow. "Now you have my interest."
Denar sighed, rubbing his neck. "When I was younger, I was- I, well, developed feelings for you. I had hoped I would be noteworthy enough to get your attention, should I earn a place on the Council. But of course, you have a boyfriend. Continuing to pursue the idea seemed disrespectful, so I dropped it."
Aja should have been annoyed or bothered, she thought, but she found the genuine respect he had for her- not as a Royal, it seemed, but as a person -quite likable.
"Then- would you consider joining the Council, not for my attention, but for the sake of my sanity?" Aja requested.
Denar stared. "I- really?? I'd be- be happy to-" he huffed a short laugh and gave a slightly crooked grin, easygoing and bright. "I would gladly consider, if only to spare you from the madness of court."
"Thank Seklos," Aja deadpanned, and Denar gave a real laugh.
Aja smiled a little, her worries about building a reliable court easing somewhat. If she could find just a few more people as easy to get along with as Denar Mirotvorets, Isila Tselitel, and Tirza Kryl'ya, perhaps handling court for the rest of her life wouldn't be bad at all.