The Royal Gardens Theatre was once a place of glory and splendor. A steep stone stairway rises up to meet the rich mahogany double doors. Crimson and feather gold flowers are entwined with the wood, dancing around each other like ballerinas in a play. The old-fashioned script of the sign is ruined, but you can still make out the name. The handle is one of solid gold, though now there is a fine black coating. Within the entranceway, an old chandalier still hangs, its beautiful diamonds dusty with age. The carpets are worn and scuffed now, but once they were the softest black plush, comforting the weary feet of opera-goers. Another sweeping staircase leads up to the balcony, it's red carpeted stairs slightly offkilter. The velevet seats in the audience or thin and falling apart now, but large and still rather comfortable. The old red curtain still hangs, torn as it is. Behind the wings of the stage begins the endless corridors of dressing rooms and storage area. All the dressing rooms are still completey furnished with their cushy chairs and ed mirros, as the theatre was suppossed to have been a historical building. Alas, for some reason...the project was abandoned...
