Post by elaine on Jun 28, 2012 2:50:18 GMT 1
She sat center stage, her legs out stretched. Toes pointed and then flexed back before pointing again. It had been only a few days since she had danced. It really sucked she had to stop dancing every time she burned through a pair of toe shoes. But it was not something that in this new world they had. If she wanted to dance en'pointe she had to make her own shoes. She missed the days of the dance company when there was an abundance of shoes. It had been something she took for granted.
Her body was clad in a skin tight black leotard and dark red leg warmers. Her hair she had twisted up into a messy bun. Elaine did not want it getting in her way this afternoon. Feeling warmed up enough she pushed up the leg warmers and began to put her new shoes on. The black satin laces she wound up and crossed over her delicate ankles. Finishing them off with thread and needle. Never did she just tie up her laces. Slipping the leg warmers back down her over the tops of her ankles, she stretched a few more times. Her shoes fit perfect. Now if only she could make them last.
Standing on the dark stage she reached up and point her right leg once, then twice. Her feet moved gracefully over to stage right and slid a disk into the player. It had survived the destruction of the world and she cherished it. Some of the elders had managed to save bits and pieces of a world now forgotten. It amazed her at times that everything was gone. Lost forever. Just like her heart.
The melody filled the stage suddenly and she breathed in slowly. Moving swiftly she took first position at center stage. The hauntingly sweet notes drifted around her. Dancing along her skin. Her heart began to pulse with each throbbing note of Cello. It was if Kai was down here playing for her. A slow smile flickered across her lips as her eyes closed and she began to dance. The music was deep, each note resonated from within as she moved.
On pointe, in one swift movement . Elaine became the music. Her arms and legs fluid. Flowing into each new position. Cinquième arms up gracefully over head while legs were straight and feet crossed in forth position. She rose up, and moved into several fluttering steps. Her toe shoes making soft little thumps as she landed each step.
Twirling into an arabesque her left get held out behind her pointed up to the ceiling overhead. Swinging her leg forward she transitioned into a pirouette en dehors spinning over and over again. Faster. Faster. Her arms gracefully bent and held perfectly in position as she looked out over an empty audience. This was not for anyone but herself. Leaping, twirling, shifting from one position to the other in rapid fire succession.
Each step perfection from years of training and endless practice. She pushed herself harder. Punishing her immortal body with her own personal demands. Dancing. Dancing. Forever she danced. Never finding harmony or peace.
Two hours passed and she still danced. The satin of her shoes showing far more wear then she was. Her pace grueling. No mortal ballerina would have been able to keep up with her. Not even dancing could stop the memories and feelings she tried so hard to keep locked up inside.
The deep sadness of loss still managed to trickle through her mind.
Step. Fouetté jeté. Plie into Fouetté en tournant. She spun so fast her features blurred as her eyes became unwillingly damp.
How she missed his touch. The soft warm feel of his lips against her skin. The carefree smiles and laughter they shared so often while dancing. Together. His gentle strength that held her. Gone forever.
Her breath caught on a sob.
How alike she and her maker were. So very much alike. Each longing for someone gone forever. Unable to shake the dreams of yesterday. Their souls so heavy with sadness. Tragic. Each alone dancing in the darkness of eternity.
Grand jeté en tournant. She flew higher pushing harder. Demi-plié into a sharp series of sissonne fermee finishing off into an arabesque. Perfectly poised on the toes of her right leg. Her left held one hundred and eighty degrees back from her body.
Crack...
The tale tell sound echoed loudly over the music. Elaine screamed in frustration as she landed flatly on her now cracked shoe. With a frustrated snarl, she ripped them off and flung them at the black curtains of the stage. Her shoulders heaved as she breathed hard. She ruined another pair of toe shoes. Again. She stood hands on hips looking down at her self. A myriad of thoughts swirling about her mind. Mostly though she was ticked off she burned through yet another pair of toe shoes and would have to make another pair. Yet again.
A lone tear escaped and landed with a soft splatter on the top of one foot. The music clicked off and silence filled the room once more.
"Miss Elaine," came the hesitant voice of a blood slave, "May I be of service?" He asked her. She could smell the rich coppery scent of his blood and her nose wrinkled even as her lips formed a sneer.
"No. Get out." She snapped and twirled around on her now bare feet. Ignoring the blood slave, she stomped over and jabbed a finger at the buttons to start yet another selection. She slipped into a second pair of shoes. This time a pair of heeled shoes that were used for dance instead of ballet.
Once more she threw herself into each movement. Pushing herself. Driving her body into exhaustion. Anything to ease the pain in her heart from the memories. Her body was tiring though. Her breath panted out and her body fought back. Muscles screaming. The last note began to fade, and she sank down upon the floor in a graceful heap. Her cheek laying against the cool surface of it.
Her body was clad in a skin tight black leotard and dark red leg warmers. Her hair she had twisted up into a messy bun. Elaine did not want it getting in her way this afternoon. Feeling warmed up enough she pushed up the leg warmers and began to put her new shoes on. The black satin laces she wound up and crossed over her delicate ankles. Finishing them off with thread and needle. Never did she just tie up her laces. Slipping the leg warmers back down her over the tops of her ankles, she stretched a few more times. Her shoes fit perfect. Now if only she could make them last.
Standing on the dark stage she reached up and point her right leg once, then twice. Her feet moved gracefully over to stage right and slid a disk into the player. It had survived the destruction of the world and she cherished it. Some of the elders had managed to save bits and pieces of a world now forgotten. It amazed her at times that everything was gone. Lost forever. Just like her heart.
The melody filled the stage suddenly and she breathed in slowly. Moving swiftly she took first position at center stage. The hauntingly sweet notes drifted around her. Dancing along her skin. Her heart began to pulse with each throbbing note of Cello. It was if Kai was down here playing for her. A slow smile flickered across her lips as her eyes closed and she began to dance. The music was deep, each note resonated from within as she moved.
On pointe, in one swift movement . Elaine became the music. Her arms and legs fluid. Flowing into each new position. Cinquième arms up gracefully over head while legs were straight and feet crossed in forth position. She rose up, and moved into several fluttering steps. Her toe shoes making soft little thumps as she landed each step.
Twirling into an arabesque her left get held out behind her pointed up to the ceiling overhead. Swinging her leg forward she transitioned into a pirouette en dehors spinning over and over again. Faster. Faster. Her arms gracefully bent and held perfectly in position as she looked out over an empty audience. This was not for anyone but herself. Leaping, twirling, shifting from one position to the other in rapid fire succession.
Each step perfection from years of training and endless practice. She pushed herself harder. Punishing her immortal body with her own personal demands. Dancing. Dancing. Forever she danced. Never finding harmony or peace.
Two hours passed and she still danced. The satin of her shoes showing far more wear then she was. Her pace grueling. No mortal ballerina would have been able to keep up with her. Not even dancing could stop the memories and feelings she tried so hard to keep locked up inside.
The deep sadness of loss still managed to trickle through her mind.
Step. Fouetté jeté. Plie into Fouetté en tournant. She spun so fast her features blurred as her eyes became unwillingly damp.
How she missed his touch. The soft warm feel of his lips against her skin. The carefree smiles and laughter they shared so often while dancing. Together. His gentle strength that held her. Gone forever.
Her breath caught on a sob.
How alike she and her maker were. So very much alike. Each longing for someone gone forever. Unable to shake the dreams of yesterday. Their souls so heavy with sadness. Tragic. Each alone dancing in the darkness of eternity.
Grand jeté en tournant. She flew higher pushing harder. Demi-plié into a sharp series of sissonne fermee finishing off into an arabesque. Perfectly poised on the toes of her right leg. Her left held one hundred and eighty degrees back from her body.
Crack...
The tale tell sound echoed loudly over the music. Elaine screamed in frustration as she landed flatly on her now cracked shoe. With a frustrated snarl, she ripped them off and flung them at the black curtains of the stage. Her shoulders heaved as she breathed hard. She ruined another pair of toe shoes. Again. She stood hands on hips looking down at her self. A myriad of thoughts swirling about her mind. Mostly though she was ticked off she burned through yet another pair of toe shoes and would have to make another pair. Yet again.
A lone tear escaped and landed with a soft splatter on the top of one foot. The music clicked off and silence filled the room once more.
"Miss Elaine," came the hesitant voice of a blood slave, "May I be of service?" He asked her. She could smell the rich coppery scent of his blood and her nose wrinkled even as her lips formed a sneer.
"No. Get out." She snapped and twirled around on her now bare feet. Ignoring the blood slave, she stomped over and jabbed a finger at the buttons to start yet another selection. She slipped into a second pair of shoes. This time a pair of heeled shoes that were used for dance instead of ballet.
Once more she threw herself into each movement. Pushing herself. Driving her body into exhaustion. Anything to ease the pain in her heart from the memories. Her body was tiring though. Her breath panted out and her body fought back. Muscles screaming. The last note began to fade, and she sank down upon the floor in a graceful heap. Her cheek laying against the cool surface of it.