Gypsy Moths That Dance Around A Candle Flame

[Allena Delarue]

Grody, cramped and inadequate were all ways to describe the Astronomy Tower as Allena saw them, standing in the enterance way with her hands full. In her left hand there was a small musical box with abnormally equipped speakers, and in the right her ballet bag containing her shoes, a spare pair of tights, deoderant, water, another leotard and a long shirt in case she ever forgot to put something on over her leotard.

She sighed heavily--this would have to do. Dancing was becoming an increasingly difficult thing to do within the boundaries of the school. The floors were grimy and uneven, which was bad for her shoes and her personal comfort level when it came to hygine and cleanliness. The walls were drab, the air musty and damp. The curtains often looked moldy, but that may have just been the trick that her eyes played on her.

Allena dropped her bag to the ground, glad that it was dark in color so that it would hide dirt and other grime that was collected on it, and had a sleek, shiny, synthetic outside that repelled deep stains. This room was foul.

She took her wand from the sleeve of her robes, where it had been conveniently housed. A few quick cleansing spells were cast and the floor looked cleaner, but still a bit rough. In the small clean area she set the music box down, then set to work on the rest of the floor.

It wasn't long before she'd finished there as well, and now she was ready to begin her warmup. She shrugged off her robe and took off her Birkenstyle clogs, which she wore only prior to dancing, and replaced the shoes with her ballet slippers.

She sat on her cleared area and stretched, putting her nose to her knee and, while staring down at the floor, speculated whether or not the floor would do damage to her shoes. The answer to that question was probably yes, but she tried to convince herself otherwise.

Her feet were wrapped with durable medical tape under her tights and her slippers, preventing some major foot damage that was bound to occur anyway. Small, manicured fingers clutched her left foot in the stretch, her fingertips massaging the area around the invisible delineations of the tape under the satin and what felt like cardboard.

And finally she was ready to go. She sat up straight and brought her legs in, leaning over a bit to help herself up. Once standing she walked to the player and rolled her shoulders, then bent down and turned the music player on. It was time to begin.

Walking a few paces out, towards the center of an area that was temporarily cleared of desks, books and telescopes, she entered first position and waited a few additional seconds for the song to begin. Once the familiar tune was under way she began fluid movements--pliets, a position known as the Battement Tendu, then a swivel into developpes and then she lost track of what everything was called and just rehearsed, perfecting her every last mistake as she recalled them. She did not expect to be interrupted, but there was always a chance.

[Damien Renton]

His eyes watered badly after that. Putting his face against his hands, Damien held his breath and pressed against his palm against his nose. Swallowing the drip, he waited a few more seconds and took his hands down from off his face, realizing he was alright. He snorted that rail just a bit too soon and his face seemed to go numb.

Snorting coke alone was never something good- it reminded him of drinking along. Like Gage would do. That depressing bastard. Only alcoholics drink alone. And he always ends up puking anyway.

The breeze blew and it was nice- for once, not come creepy breeze where the wind whistled and howled, and the breeze wasn't even chill. It was a nice
outside, at least to his skin, and although the loneliness was a bit sobering, it wasn't overly horrible.

For a moment, he thought he heard music starting to play. Goosebumps tightened on his skin, but she brushed it off- his mind was running off with him, and he didn't want to get up and look in the window. But the music didn't stop playing- he knew there were freaky things in Hogwarts, but this was certainly knew.

Trying to focus his constantly moving mind and eyes, he stood up quickly and practically dashed to the door, opening it and slamming it behind him, thinking he was prepared to deal with whatever creature had found its way up here.

He frowned heavily upon seeing Allena dancing. He was under prepared, and felt a buzzkill on the horizon. "Faur fcuks sake, you scared the shite oot oaf me. Can't you gae somewhere else?" They hadn't been on the best terms, and being around Allena was like pouring salt in a sore wound, or poking a ripe bruise.

[Allena Delarue]

Allena gasped, terrified, as she heard the door slam. She didn't immediately see the person walking in, and the voice didn't follow suit for a bit of time. She was mid-pirouette, and this was going to end very, very badly if she wasn't able to stop herself in record time. This, of course, would have been impossible, and the terror that ran through her body and ripped her from her concentration didn't assist her any.

She fell off her toe-point and, with an unpleasant squeak, went careening off. Her left foot came out and tried to slow her down, to no avail. It was only a matter of feet before she hip-checked a table, but fortunately the wood and stone construction stopped her forward, vertigenous momentum.

She gripped the table then, panting, with a sore hip and a hurt ankle. "Damien!" she shrieked, just barely post-crash. If he thought she'd scared him, then he certainly had no gauge of how much he's just annihilated her safety zone. "If you're terrified, zen WHY vould you run toward ze s'ing zat's scaring you?!"

Men had no common sense at all.

She stood there for a few more seconds, leaning on the table, before she sat herself down on it. The cold stonetop was frigid against her arse, but she didn't care. Her pride was hurt significantly, as was the rest of her body. She could support little weight on her ankle--the bane of a dancer's existance.

Bending over some she whimpered, pulling her knee to her chest and massaging her ankle gently. "Anyway, if zere vas somes'ing dangerous, you vouldn't 'ave stood a chance."

She looked more hurt than angry, mostly because she was in severe pain. Her wand was not presently accessible from the table, but self-healing skills had never been her forte anyway. She was always afraid that she'd make it worse to the point where it was irreparable.

[Damien Renton]

Watching Allena topple over as she did brought a small smile to his face and a scoff in his throat. She screamed his name, and he rose an eyebrow indignitley, allowing all the perverted comments he could have said about it run thought his mind. However, for once, he kept them to himself. He didn't feel like having his sexual ego destroyed right now.

"Because Ah wis ready tae kill wotever cnut was in here, actually," he told her as he leered in her direction, watching her hop up on the table she had caught herself on. "A feeble, easily knocked over wee burd like you probably dinnae get the concept oaf that."

However, Allena liked to attempt at making him feel inadequate and weak- something she had done during the duration of their relationship. But her attempt was as pathetic as her balance, and he merely rolled his eyes.

"Aye? And Ah thought dancers were suppose tae be graceful and strong," he watched her rub on her knee. She was reminding him of a calf.

"Ah'd gladly help with your pulled muscle and possibly sprained leg, however you've made it clear you dinnae want naething tae dae with me."

[Allena Delarue]

Allena whined at his response. Of course he was. "Vhat if it vasn't actually alive?" She paused, again, "And it does not appear zat I am dead yet, so I s'ink zat zat arguement is...eugh....bad." Yeah, that was eloquent. Presently she didn't care, though, and wasn't in the mood to have some sort of power struggle with him.

"I don't need to so long as zere's big men around to protect me," she said, her tone sarcastic. She really wasn't being all that sarcastic, though, when it got right down to it. She couldn't much defend herself with strength, and her only fortes in magic were charms and a few darker spells, none of which she could call herself a complete expert at.

"I only don't vant anysing to do vith you vhen you're being an asshole," she paused, "Which, presently, you are. But I'd razer zat you didn't leave me up 'ere vith no vay to get down so...." she trailed off briefly, scowling. Great. Now she had to ask him for help, and that was one of those things that she didn't really want to do.

"Help me? Please?"

[Damien Renton]

Damien rolled his eyes yet again. When lit up, he was either in one of two moods- apathetic, or damn near homicidal. "Had it been already dead and ravenous, Ah would have ran richt oot oan tae the balcony , then thrown mysev off it. You can have the pleasure of finding my mangled body the next day."

Refraining from telling her to go fcuk off, Damien sniffed and leaned causally against the door. Less than a moment with her, and the bitch was already a buzz kill. It was enough that he almost wanted to charge her for it.

Regrettably, his substance-induced overcharged heart gave a tug toward his stomach and he found himself wanting to get out of her presence right now. "Good luck finding that," you twatface.

Again, holding back his profanity was the best thing he could do at the moment. He'd been reminded that he wasn't near up to her standards, and name calling wouldn't help in proving that point wrong by any means- no matter how fitting 'twatface' might be.

"Ah'm being the asshole? Thats ridiculous, yer the one who started passing oot judgment like it wis yer job richt as soon as a walked-erm, ran, through the door-" he shut up as soon as she asked him for help. A smirk came to his face, and even if he wanted to hide it, he wouldn't be able to.

"Help? Fraum me?" Snorting, he looked around as if someone else was around in the room. "Are you implying that something Ah'd dae would actually benefit you?"

He was being a smart ass, giving her an overly difficult time- that much was for certain. But it was rare when Allena gave up so easily, and he wasn't about to let the moment pass.

"Wot dae Ah get in return?" He paused before adding, "it would be awfully creepy tae be stuck up here, all alone."

[Allena Delarue]

"'ow 'eroic," she said, but at that let it drop. There was no sense in pursuing it-- it wouldn't lead to anything except his impending abandonment of her, which would not have been in her best interest. At all. "And I'd rather not," she added, when he made comment about finding his mangled body. Despite irritations, he still meant something to her. Something. Whether or not that something was long withstanding or not was in question.

She shrugged to his next comment, "Well, you're 'ere, are you not?" she asked, tilting her head to the side a bit. Her heel landed on the table when her leg muscles grew tired of supporting it just a few inches above. She hissed and whined in pain, not liking this at all. In all she did not wish to end up like her mother, who went too long without care for an injury and eventually disabled herself from working.

"Passing judgment is part of my job," she pointed out. Being a dancer was rather all-encompassing; you had to be constantly critical of yourself and competition, for better or for worse, and use it to your advantage one way or the other. Being able to move wasn't the half of it--it came with this other sort of mindset that had to run in full gear all the time.

That was her excuse, anyway. Other than that, she was just a snob. And a bitch.

She sighed, wearily and somewhat impatiently. "Yes, from you. And stop being so sardonic, it is not appealing on you." He had plenty of good traits too, but it was easier to pick on the lesser ones. Usually. But she didn't have the motif to be cruel to him, particularly not if she wanted to use him to help her.

Groaning, she rolled her eyes. "You get vhatever you vant," she tolled out methodically, boredly. She sighed, feeling impatient with his lack of relative usefulness. "Or, rather, you get to not lose your job for abandoning someone in medical need." She sighed--the first option may be more fun. "But ze first option still stands, I suppose. Your needs always did to have your needs taken care of, and I doubt you've found anyone so good as me to do it yet." She grinned a bit at that, "I'm a difficult act to follow."

[Damien Renton]

"How erotic?" Damien wasll wall aware that she was trying to say "heroic", however his brain first registered it as 'erotic' and she was too easy to pick on. "Get yer mind oot oaf the gutter, you pervert." Feeling bored with himself and the circumstances, he wished something would light a fire up under his ass. He was tempted to punch her in the ribs just to see what would happen. Then again, that was the coke talking.

"Oh? Was that a compliment that just hiss oot oaf yer mouth?" He took a few steps closer to her. "Flattery can only get you sae far, you know..." he let it go almost as fast as it started. He wasn't in the mood for another emo-filled night because Allena said something to get him slightly down.

Snorting, he just shook his head. As if. "Well, you ought tae get a promotion then, because you dae yer job quite often. How good you are at it, however, is a different matter. You micht find yerself fired." The cnut.

He made his way over to her, taking her leg and stretching it out, trying really hard not to think too much about her body aside from its muscular development and what was currently wrong with her. He doubted anything serious. "Unappealing? Well, why dinnae we jist add this tae the list, aye?"

She offered whatever he wanted, be he seriously doubted that the offer stood. He rolled his eyes and ignored her. "Medical need? Yer jist ebing a drama queen, as per usual. You'd be able tae make yer way doon tae the hospital wing if you had to- Ah'm guessing its a pulled muscle."

He refused to touch her upper thigh. Screw this bitch, he wasn't about to fall into her trap that she called a vagina.

"My needs?!" Damien became distracted and dropped her leg, though not on purpose. "How the hell dae you know that Ah've nae gotten someone else to replace you?"