But as it came down near
Who: Nina Sayers and Angel
When: now
Where: at the Castle's lobby
Rating: PG for blood?
What: Angel finds Nina, who just arrived in Paradisa
In the rush of steps and turns, rushing dancers, orchestral swells, glaring stage lights and the faces in the audience (mommy) and in the wings (Thomas), Nina was almost ready to accept the price of perfection: death. She tries to recall those last moments but the details are missing; the way her mother's eyes blinked back the tears, how Thomas' hands felt on her cheeks, the warm blood seeping through her White Swan costume. They come to her in fragments and she can't put them together.
Upon regaining her senses, Nina found the floor beneath her ice cold and unyielding. The chill shocks her into consciousness. She finds herself lying curled up like a cocoon in a great hall, a dull pain in her abdomen. Pain courses through her body when she moves, unfolding then sliding herself back against the nearest wall.
What a vision she must be, in her white tutu strewn with feathers and smeared with blood, thick stage makeup diluted by sweat and tears. Blood, sweat and tears. That sounds about right.
Knees bent and head against the wall, Nina drapes her arms on her wounded stomach. Her eyes stare into the distance as she attempts to reconstruct her moment of victory, her turn, her Swan Queen. And Nina smiles, beatific.
When: now
Where: at the Castle's lobby
Rating: PG for blood?
What: Angel finds Nina, who just arrived in Paradisa
In the rush of steps and turns, rushing dancers, orchestral swells, glaring stage lights and the faces in the audience (mommy) and in the wings (Thomas), Nina was almost ready to accept the price of perfection: death. She tries to recall those last moments but the details are missing; the way her mother's eyes blinked back the tears, how Thomas' hands felt on her cheeks, the warm blood seeping through her White Swan costume. They come to her in fragments and she can't put them together.
Upon regaining her senses, Nina found the floor beneath her ice cold and unyielding. The chill shocks her into consciousness. She finds herself lying curled up like a cocoon in a great hall, a dull pain in her abdomen. Pain courses through her body when she moves, unfolding then sliding herself back against the nearest wall.
What a vision she must be, in her white tutu strewn with feathers and smeared with blood, thick stage makeup diluted by sweat and tears. Blood, sweat and tears. That sounds about right.
Knees bent and head against the wall, Nina drapes her arms on her wounded stomach. Her eyes stare into the distance as she attempts to reconstruct her moment of victory, her turn, her Swan Queen. And Nina smiles, beatific.