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Post by francois jonathon lucielle on Mar 8, 2011 20:31:36 GMT -5
So, once more life was at it again. Things weren’t exactly going as smooth as the small French boy would have wanted them to be going. He was homesick, majorly. He missed his mom and his friends like no one could believe. It seemed like things were moving in slow motion, everything was dragging on and on and it seemed like it would never end. Francois had made one, maybe two friends so far, and as he imagined, probably an enemy already. Oh yeah, things were booming for him! He wasn’t cut out for this type of school and he knew it. He didn’t know why he was here, he didn’t know what his mother was thinking when she sent him here, and he didn’t know how to survive. It was like being in a jungle full of rabid and wild animal, and Francois was just a small deer wandering around, waiting to be picked off like all the rest of them. He had no special talents. He had nothing going for him. He wasn’t a killer, he wasn’t the super intelligent one; so who was he? The one that would dance around to distract people? The one who would play body-shield for other people? It was deterring to the minimal self-esteem the boy had, and now he felt like he had nowhere left to turn but the stage.
He had searched for hours to find it, and it wasn’t like the school had any signs of what not to help him. He had to go off of smarts and common sense, which apparently wasn’t on his side either. He had stumbled down a set of stairs, tripped over a tree root and collided with an immobile wall to get to the room. He was impressed though when he got there, he had to say. The room was large and had multiple rows of seats for a long ways down. There were so many exits on every side, and the farther back you went in the room the darker it got. He didn’t care to bother with that though. The idea of darkness plus the unknown always seemed to irk the boy more than anyone would understand. Maybe it was because of the time when he was a boy…yeah, that was probably it. The small French student cringed internally as he remembered the accident as if it had happened yesterday.
He was in a dancing competition, but this one was different; this one was a dancing team competition. He had been dancing for more than five years by this point, and was much farther ahead of the entire group he was assigned to. They were doing a tough routine for their age, but Francois knew they could pull it off. He took the hardest task of the group, for obvious reasons; and it was that minor detail that led to such an aching fear in his heart. The team had to build up a tower, almost like a cheerleading tower, but different. The people on the bottom would have to rotate the people above them, who would rotate those above them, and so on and so forth. Francois just happened to be the top of the tower, and being held up by a rather small girl. It was during their actual routine in front of judges, where it happened. Someone on the other team had tripped while practicing, and involuntarily thrown pulled on an unknown cord that caused some type of disruption in the electricity. The entire stadium was plunged into complete, pitch black darkness for a matter of seconds, but in those seconds it was where it happened. Francois was dropped. The girl holding him up freaked out, let go of him, and he fell backwards to the ground almost twenty feet.
He can’t remember pain, or most of anything; he just remembers the darkness and the chill of cold on the ground. He doesn’t remember regaining consciousness, but when he did he was in the hospital. It took about four days, alone in the room, for his father to come visit him. He cannot to this day remember what his father’s face looked like, because he imagined it as disappointed beyond belief and here by blocked it out. This though, was the first and last time ever that his father told him he loved him. The words were like music to the boy’s dream, and ever since that one day he has danced. Not to better himself. Not to stay in shape. Not to have fun. But to push himself. To push his body to the utmost limit of life, for that same comforting blackness to return; for those same words from his father to return as well.
This is why the boy is in the auditorium, nearing two in the morning, lacing Dancing shoes on. It was because he needed to escape. He needed to hear those words again. He needed to be happy. He needed to feel safe again; and so he turned to the pitch black depths of his mind. His pale silhouette could be seen from afar under the dim light of the stage, dressed in sweatpants and a thin, Paramore t-shirt, the boy began to dance. His movements were fluent and precise and a show to watch, really. He lost track of time while he was dancing. Soon a minute turned to five, five to ten, and then ten to sixty. It was amazing how far he could push his body without stopping, without needed to rest. There was just one more thing he needed to do, and then it would be okay…then it would all be okay.
His weight was pressed onto his right foot as he slid onto the utmost tip of his toes, pirouetting in a fast and perfect circle; moving around and around as if a spinning top; ceaseless, endless. There he was, spinning, forgetting; living, but not for long. Soon thin streaks of black began to cloud his vision, and then the everlasting blanket of shadows had completely consumed his field of view.
There was nothing but black, such comforting black, and then there was a thud.
Cold chill of the floor.
The boy had fallen from grace. [/size] |
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Post by adeline amelie krause on Mar 16, 2011 18:17:59 GMT -5
  Hetero-chromic eyes opened, staring into the darkness of her dorm room as she sat up. Turning to look at the time, 5:15 A.M. She groaned a little and pulled herself out of bed. Her body had gotten restless. She could sleep for a whole 2 hours more! But she needed to move. Eyes turning to a trunk at the end of her bed she walked to it. She hadn't been assigned a room mate yet - so she wasn't worried about the light problem, she flipped on the lamp while passing it and dug through her things. She pulled out a sturdy case and set it on her bed.
Walking to her dresser she opened it and got a pair of shorts out and pulled them on, grabbing her favorite Skellanimal hoodie - she pulled it on and zipped it up, shaking her hair out she pulled her fringe to the side - as was customary - and pulled on her favorite pair of boots. For a mix and match outfit - she looked kind of cute. She stopped back at her dresser and pulled out a pair of contacts. Chocolate brown, they hid her odd eyes well.
As she put them into her eyes, she heard her mother's ever present voice "Your eyes are two different colors, Adeline! Put in your contacts, no one will hire you with those!" Blinking her eyes, she sighed and grabbed the case fingers snagging her phone and speaker set for her iPhone and keys and then made her way out of the dorms.
She spent a good 15 minutes wandering around the different halls of the school - looking for the performance arts hall as she found it she smiled and walked up to the door, a hand on the handle before she paused, looking inside she saw someone moving. She'd never been one to be shy (away from her parents at least) and yet, she didn't want to disturb the form. She recognized the style of dance instantly. She'd been trained in classical dance of all forms from the time she could stand steady.
She was trained in many things - most of them forms of art, though because her family traveled so much - she knew a bit of other languages too, and yet she wasn't fluent. She could speak them very well, what she did know. She let the door close in silence behind her, and stuck to the shadows. She didn't want to throw him off balance, as a dancer, she knew what concentration meant - and yet, if he really /was/ a performance dancer, perhaps she couldn't distract him.
Adeline's head tilted, taking in the dancing as she felt different emotions. She rarely was able to do that with people. She'd seen the Russian Ballet - and even they didn't invoke the emotions she saw when this boy danced. He looked as if he were free. Adeline's mouth pulled into a small smile.
She danced and played music for the exact same reasons...
Her eyes widened though - a look of concern washing over her face as she walked quickly, her slightly too-big boots thudding on the stage as she approached the crumpled body, kneeling beside him she looked around, taking out her case, she opened it, revealing the black-polished wood of her violin, taking the small book from it, she waved it in front of his face.
"Hey! C'mon wake up"she continued to fan the boy with her notebook, she sure wished she had access to a cool fountain or some water, and a cloth. That would help more than this silly idea. [/size][/center] --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- your guardian REAL SLIM SHADY !? @ caution 2.0[/color]. never say never |
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Post by francois jonathon lucielle on Mar 16, 2011 18:31:41 GMT -5
This was nothing new to Francois. Darkness. Loneliness. The darkness never actually kept him alone though. Whenever he was surrounded by thick clouds that only existed in his own version of midnight; he was never alone. The darkness was his friend, his ally. It was something he could depend on to keep him safe and sound; and it was back again. The cold chill of the floor told him that he had fallen, and the dull crimson liquid dripping in front of his eye told him he was bleeding. Oh how Francois loved blood sometimes. How it made him feel like he was still here, like he was still alive; simply perfect. He liked knowing that his body was still functioning and his mind was still going, because without it, sometimes things fell apart.
He had become numb to the pain at this point. There was no ache anymore; there jut simply was. He was simply existing, between a realm of life and death almost; one where there was no pain, no sorrow; it was just him. This is what he used dancing for. He used it as an escape into this world, into this dimension where everything was all right. His fingernails gently scraped against the floor as he heard someone running up the stairs. He silently cursed himself. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to get up. He didn't want to do anything. But he knew he had to. He knew if he didn't move, this girl might assume the worst, and call the police or some garbage, and Francois would be sent right back to France.
Reluctantly, his palm closed against the wood and his eyes opened wider, his vision blurring into something odd before focusing. His warm- yet defeated- Hazel eyes trailed up to a girl. She seemed kind of petite, it was cute. His arms pushed against the floor and his muscles quaked as he moved to his knees. He was breathing a little heavy, his mind going in circles as he had to place himself back into reality. He noticed the girl was holding a Violin, and grinned. His mouth opened to talk, but a small cough escaped it first, before he swallowed and began.
"Y-yes...I am o-okay...m-my name is F-Francois...s-sorry you s-saw me like t-this..." The smallest of smiles danced on the boy's lips before he leaned gently against a wall next to him, head resting against it.
Everything seemed to turn peaceful as he waited for the girl to reply. |
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Post by adeline amelie krause on Mar 16, 2011 18:47:25 GMT -5
Adeline's eyes watched carefully, she'd seen a bit of blood and moved her hand slightly, using her teeth to bring her sleeve over her hand as she tried to gently put it to the wound by his eye. Her touch was gentle, but as she heard the scraping against the floor, she withdrew her hand, the waving of the notebook stopped as she sat back straight. Another product of her mother.
"ADELINE! Sit up straight! You'll become a hunchback, and we all know..." the voice trailed away as she finished the sentence in her own mind. No one would ever hire a hunchback. She got so sick of hearing that - she wanted to make her parents proud, but it was hard. She was brought back to her thoughts, fake chocolate eyes turning to look into the hazel ones she felt on her. She smiled a little and chuckled.
"It's quite alright, To work ones body to the point of exhaustion can be oddly... calming. It sucks you in - and you don't want to stop." She didn't know if that was his reasoning behind it, but she'd been in that situation. She would dance until her legs wouldn't hold her - or until she passed out. That happened more often than not because of lack of nutrition than anything else though.
"I'm just glad you're alright. My name's Adeline. My friends call me Candy." she laughed a bit, oh god. It started again. She used to be popular in her old school in L.A., but now that she's here, in a new school. She was rambling again, and getting lost in her thoughts. She cursed herself and brought herself out of her thoughts.
"It's nice to meet you." A genuine smile crossed her pale features.
[/size][/center] --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- your guardian REAL SLIM SHADY !? @ caution 2.0[/color]. never say never |
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