[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019f7ab3-cde9-710d-b4b0-00b714e3628c.webp[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][color=948383][I]Bea Adler[/I][/color][/sub][sup][right][color=948383][b]Death and all her Friends - XII[/b] [i]Pas de Deux[/i][/COLOR][/right][/sup][/indent][center][COLOR=dimgray][SUP][sub]_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sub][/SUP][/COLOR][/center]


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[i]17 Years Ago...[/i]

[justify]The walls of the alleyway were black as obsidian and light pulsed from a streetlamp against the rain-slick space as the city pressed in close around him. He was in a cage of brick shadows and windows and every now and then a smear of headlights warped down the stretch of space before disappearing like a ghost once again. Moonlight slipped between the clouds and found the corpse; tracing over curves of exposed and torn skin before glimmering in the blood pooling around her. The rain was carrying the blood away, washing it away into the gutters. Away into the drains. Diluted with the stormwater. In his hand, the knife. The bloodied knife. He held it before him and let that beautiful rain wash away the rest of the blood from the blade and he saw the moon, that beautiful creature, looking down at him from within the steel as if he'd captured her too.

[right][i]Eyes[/i][/right]

An unease set upon him and the space itself seemed to draw in a great breath -- the air thin and cold in anticipation. High above him, tension stirred. There was a brief sound and he wondered if he had imagined it.

When he looked back up, there was nothing, only darkness stretched between rooftops, and perhaps it was simply his own paranoia and adrenaline speaking to him, whispering for him to feel guilt for what he’d done. To feel remorse or sadness for the poor and once delightful soul that was now lifeless on the ground; but instead he felt sanctified by his act. As he walked away, muttering under his breath, he almost saw that a shadow danced ahead and melted into the rest of it all. He stopped, turned, looked over his shoulder, looked up. Nothing. He kept walking, only faster now. He saw it again then. A shape suspended impossibly high overhead; silhouette in shadow that seemed to be carved into the night itself and menacingly balanced on the edge of a fall. Everything fell silent around him and the world and his view narrowed to that singular point in the sky. 

Streamlined and deliberate, that shape began a descent and the distance collapsed between them. Humans could not move that way. Only the [i]Peregrine[/i] and he knew her to be the last sound he would ever hear. The air shrieked around her, rising and thin as if the city herself was being split down the middle and he would remember no more after that. There was one more scream as the alleyway erupted with the burst of fury as rain and debris pushed forward in a violent halo before silence fell again.

Two deaths in the alleyway. Only one was deserved.

[hr]

Afternoon spilled now through the high windows of Adler’s Academy in Ashmont. It shone in ribbons that caught the dust drifting lazy through the air and the mirrors watched only in silence to reflect a room that was larger when empty and without an audience and music and applause. There was only the creak of the floorboards as Bea Adler moved; that single step a gathering of momentum. Her lower body coiled and then released in grand jeté; the laws of the room bent for her as one leg extended forward and the other swept behind her in a perfect line while her arms opened out. The mirrors caught her illusion and in the moment, there were dozens of her existing between all of the worlds in reflection. 

A brief, and beautiful certainty of flight before gravity reclaimed her into a soft and silent landing.

It had been a long time since Calder City had needed the Peregrine.

The city had too many capes now, and yet no shortage of problems. People went missing, people wound up dead, cartels, drugs, and still the same old crimes of everyday. [i]Where were the Vanguard, exactly?[/i] The rot was all the way through and try as she might, she didn't stop it all back then but she got out when she could, having done what she could, and even now, nobody still alive actually knew the identity of the Peregrine, only the legend. The death of the Mountain hadn't stirred her, only tuned her senses just a degree further again. There were no more high dives and free falls and fights in the streets for her, but her eyes were still fixed to the goings on enough to know that while the tide was not yet turning, hope was not all lost. 

Children of legends carried their legacies on.

She knew enough of the goings on to be relatively unsurprised to see Eve Seeley in the doorway, because she knew that Eve Seeley had found four dead bodies and a mobster the night before and she knew that Eve Seeley was waking up. She'd seen and knew of Eve's gift, and she knew that Eve was a Grey, just as her mother had been. [color=948383]"The prodigal daughter returns,"[/color] she spoke out before Eve had even said hello. Bea did not make direct eye contact, she eyed her once up and down in the mirror. [color=948383]"How long has it been Eve, since you left?"[/color] Again, she paid no mind to the woman who was stepping inside. No hello, no greeting; just the inevitable start of a conversation that had been delayed for too long. She focused on her own pointe shoes, setting her foot on the chair as she held perfect poise to untie them.

[COLOR=9174cb]"A minute,"[/color] she said.

[color=948383]"Longer than a minute. I would say three, four years now?"[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]"Right,"[/color] Eve said. [COLOR=9174cb]"Since you kicked me out of class."[/color]

[color=948383]"No,"[/color] Bea corrected, lifting a finger to the air to cut the accusation immediately. [color=948383]"You left. You did not come back to class."[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]"You told me I would never be a pro at my age,"[/color] Eve said, stepping forward, removing her coat.

[color=948383]"Yes. And in response you ripped the barre out of the wall. I had to pay an out of hours fee to fix it."[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]"I was twenty-four."[/color]

[color=948383]“-And Principals at that time had been dancing for ten to fifteen years, eleven hours a day. Discipline. Perfect form, perfect shape.  You have beautiful musicality Eve, so much emotion in your dance but you didn’t have the complete technique. You danced outside of the lines. These are facts.”[/color] She met her eyes then, at last. [color=948383]“These are facts. You were not ready.”[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]“I could practice, I can still get on pointe--”[/color]

[color=948383]“Don't you dare. You'll snap your ankles in half on those unpracticed legs. Better to practice something else, get good at contemporary.”[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]“It was all I wanted to do, it was my dream since I was--”[/color]

[color=948383]“Dreams die. They just do.”[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]“Oh wow what a surprise,”[/color] she clucked her tongue. [COLOR=9174cb]“You're as optimistic as ever…”[/color]

[color=948383]“And sometimes the best thing you can do is to let a dream die so you can find another. Life is not for one dream. You are so very talented in so many other ways. You had a tendency to let everything else get in the way.”[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]“Like what?”[/color]

[color=948383]“Your anger for one. Did you or did you not throw an egg sandwich at Linda Morello while she was in fouetté?”[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]“I did. And I got a good hit too, despite that.”[/color]

[color=948383]“You live in hedonistic excess. Did you or did you not turn up one day hungover?”[/color]

Eve didn't respond, as if she knew where [i]this one[/i] was going.

[color=948383]“You were so hungover that you vomited in the trashcan."[/color] She took in a breath, placing her other foot onto the chair now. [color=948383]"And you set off a chain reaction of everyone else vomiting.”[/color] Nothing was said for a while, and Bea watched as Eve's gaze trailed off. [color=948383]“Hardly fitting of a professional ballerina, was it? I've never seen anything like it and I doubt I will again. And the [i]smell.[/i]"[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]“Why did I bother coming here? This was a mistake.”[/color]

[color=948383]"If you walk away you're telling me you're still not ready, Eve.”[/color] Bea said. [color=948383]"You're more brazen than to do that. Did you, or did you not come here to show me what you've got. What you've still got?”[/color] Bea approached the music system, flicked a switch and a melody blared out. All loud and orchestral and present and there. [color=948383]“Show me.”[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]“But I don’t-”[/color]

[color=948383]“Dance.”[/color] She clicked her fingers impatiently and Eve fell in line like she'd been expecting it, and no time had passed at all. [color=948383]“Show me what you still have. Show me that musicality.”[/color]

Bea watched as Eve moved, turning her body in time with the beats that she could predict would come next [color=948383]“You look like you’re dancing in a nightclub. Are you dancing in a nightclub? Tighten up!”[/color] Bea barked out, pacing across the studio floor, watching both Eve as she was, and the reverse of her in the mirror, her eyes tracing the lines of her body; inspecting all of her. She was too eager, too nervous to impress, too caught on the fly to really let herself go. [color=948383]“Follow your curiosity, Eve. Feel the music. Make your choice and commit.”[/color] It happened then, like magic Bea watched as Eve had worked out and exorcised whatever feeling had been blocking something real and then her movements settled into the space between each note, For the first time since she'd walked back into the room, Bea saw Eve the dancer once again.

Her expression remained unchanged and she gave nothing away, no smile, no nod, no encouragement; she simply ceased giving instruction and watched. 

Fight had left Eve's shoulders and she moved honestly. She moved with precision, letting her body melt in time with the music. She turned on one foot, spinning into a slow drop and split in one continuous motion and Bea saw the transformation. She herself stepped back as if in time had rewound and it was the young girl she used to teach. The girl who would come to class with her dad who should have been far too busy and important for a child's ballet class but always made time for it.

It was simply no wonder that Eve spent so much time giving up and running, torn between numbness and feeling everything she'd gone through. Filling herself with poison and anger. Bea remembered every showcase that Eve had danced in her later years, after the death of her parents and she remembered that her family seats were always, always, always empty because that damn new father of hers did not care and always forgot and never came and it was hardly a surprise that Eve lost her discipline. When she really thought about it, Linda Morello deserved the hit too, for all the uppity teasing. 

She could do something about this. She should do something about this. She owed it to two people, and always had.

When Eve had finished, and sat on the floor of the studio, catching back her breath, Bea spoke again. [color=948383]“You're not coming back to class.”[/color]

Eve was incensed then, her cheeks darkened with a storm of anger. [COLOR=9174cb]“Are you [i]fucking[/i] kidding me?”[/color]

[color=948383]“You can't be taught.”[/color] Bea said matter-of-factly and she watched as Eve readied a barrage of something all full of verbal violence but she was about to cut right through it and so paid it no mind. [color=948383]"Can you pass a background check?"[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]“Huh?”[/color]

[color=948383]"Have you ever been arrested? Do you have a record?"[/color]

Eve looked away and gave a shrug, [COLOR=9174cb]“well... One or two. Drunk and disorderly.”[/color]

[color=948383]“Oh who doesn't,”[/color] Bea shrugged with a roll of her eyes. [color=948383]“You can help me with the girls' classes.”[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]“Huh? You mean like teaching?”[/color]

[color=948383]“No."[/color] Bea almost laughed. [color=948383]"To be a teacher you need a certificate to teach and you need to go to school for that, and you need a career as a professional dancer for credibility. You’ll help me with music, you’ll help me prepare the room, you can help me with choreography."[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]“So it’s like a job?”[/color]

[color=948383]“The pay is not good.”[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]“I... I don’t care.”[/color] A smile was growing on her face as she scrambled up to her feet with the excitement.

[color=948383]“So are you going to keep chasing old dreams, doing the same old things, or are you going to try something new?”[/color]

[COLOR=9174cb]“New.”[/color] 

[color=948383]“Good. Then be here tomorrow morning. First class is seven thirty, I expect you here at six fourty five.”[/color]


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