The Three Mothers (Baddamobs x Cam)

[cam]

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Synopsis Main Cast Supporting Cast - Part I: Suspiria Part 2: Inferno Part 3: Mother of Tears Misc

• 
  A prestigious dance studio in Freiberg, Germany. A luxurious apartment building in New York City. A regal palazzo in Rome, Italy. All three written of in "The Three Mothers", a mysterious and rare tome by Italian architect E. Varelli, describing the specific physical spaces designed to amplify the evil magicks of a trio of witches bent on ushering in the apocalypse.
  
  Of course this is entirely unknown to Suzy Bannion, the hopeful and fresh-faced American student enrolling at the Freiberg Tanz Akademie in hopes of becoming a celebrated ballet performer. Nor is it known to local student Kreszenz Baumgartner, who quickly forms a strong bond with Suzy as strange sounds in the gloom make for increasingly restless nights. And what about the mysterious student with the stunning gaze that entrances them both into a tangled trio of whirling emotion? Worst of all, what could ever prepare them for the ghastly murders to follow, and the revelation of even more terrible implications spanning the globe? Will their bond be enough to lend them the strength needed to seek out and kill the Three Mothers before the end of days?
  
  This RP is a sort of "inspired by" reimagining of The Three Mothers trilogy of films by Dario Argento - Suspiria, Inferno, and The Mother of Tears. Released in 1977, 1980, and 2007 respectively, these Italian horror masterpieces are well-regarded for their striking aesthetics, mesmerizing synth soundtracks, heightened reality of ultraviolence, and their non-linear dream logic in lieu of traditional plot structure. Our story will focus on a romantic bond between 3 girls, who discover early in their journey that they each possess the capacity to wield white magic, and how they will struggle with not only the feelings involved in their wildly unconventional relationship, but also how best to deal with the responsibility thrust upon them - defeating a trio of powerful evil witches.
  
• 
  
  
  
  Name: Suzy Bannion (played by Cam)
  Age: 21
  Eyes: Hazel
  Hair: Brown
  Strengths: Finds the good in most everyone she meets, makes friends easily, romantic, introspective, agile, organized.
  Weaknesses: Wears her heart on her sleeve, doesn't keep secrets and would be a terrible poker player, does not do well where she would need to be in charge, will more often than not put others before herself.
  Likes: Reading and collecting books, writing letters or making phone calls to friends, running, gardening, dance in all forms, activism.
  Dislikes: Being alone, arguments or prolonged disagreement, cold weather.
  Appearance: Slight of frame and stature, the exceedingly lithe Suzy seems perfectly built for the demanding world of formalized dance. But while she stands out on stage, she is often overlooked elsewhere due to a somewhat girlish plainness, appearing younger and less mature than she is. Her wide brown eyes frequently have an optimistic wonderment to them, framed by her full, wavy brown hair. She dresses modestly, often with ankle-length dresses and blouses or cardigans that cover her arms. While she does not appear overly withdrawn or mousy, her understated, almost classical fashion aligns well with the usual stereotype of a theatre girl.
  Personality: Supportive, nurturing, friendly, sensitive, easygoing, inquisitive, problem-solver. One might accuse her of occasionally having her head in the clouds, but she is focused and well-organized where it matters. Soft-spoken but not shy.
  History: Born and raised in the suburbs of northern New York state, Suzy lived the life of most average American girls, but was drawn most to dance and to the arts. Over time she discovered her passion for ballet, competing with her local dance troupe in various cities on the east coast, and continued to pursue perfection long after many of her peers moved onto other interests. When faced with career decisions, Suzy decided to perfect her ballet studies in the most famous school of dance in Europe. She chose the celebrated academy of Freiburg. One day, at nine in the morning, she left Kennedy airport, New York, and arrived in Germany at 10:40 p.m. local time...
  
  
  
  
  Name: Kreszenz "Zenzi" Baumgartner (played by Baddamobs)
  Age: 21
  Eyes: Honey-brown
  Hair: Light-brown
  Strengths: physically stronger than she looks, makes friends easily, inquisitive, loyal, fierce when driven
  Weaknesses: easily scared, struggles to connect to others beyond casual friendship, slow to forgive, stubborn at times, internalizes doubts
  Likes: Long drives, intricate machinery like clocks, history subjects, naps, vegetable gardening, dancing (as in casually; she'd define ballet as more of a passion or ambition)
  Dislikes: Rainy days, open confrontation, overly sweet food, long stretches of isolation, being over looked
  Appearance: Zenzi frequently favors clothes that might be considered on the more 'masculine' side, including preferring pants and trousers to skirts, though honestly this mostly stems from finding such ensembles being comfortable than any sense of fashion. She has the athletic build one invariable gains from focused dance routines, though she has subtle layer of muscle that might be consider slightly more dense than usual; it's frequently more than a bother than a boon, since her instructors won't hesitate to berate her lack of lithe grace.
  Personality: Bold, outgoing, and greeting each friend she meets along the way with equal enthusiasm, Zenzi moves through life with a kind of passion for living. With an odd duality of spending a great deal of time dragging friends to frivolous trips to town and spending hours at once practicing and training for ballet to exclusion of all else, Zenzi is at least someone who always gives her all in whatever she puts her mind to. While she has more friends and acquaintances than she can count, she struggles with making herself truly vulnerable and open to even people she's known for years, perhaps as a result of an friendship which soured in her early youth.
  History: Born and raised in Freiburg im Breisgau, Zenzi reaped all the benefits a baker's daughter could in her formative years, with one of the more prominent ones being the large flock of potential playmates that hovered around her family's bakery, playmates that made passionate declarations of friendship and comradely for whatever treats Zenzi could sneak out of her parent's shop.
  
  Zenzi herself, however, wandered somewhat aimlessly from one interest to another as a child. Nothing seemed to hold her attention for long, and she likewise felt restless near constantly, making her question if she would ever find the supposed special talent or interest all of her childhood friends seemed to boast about.
  
  A answer would arrive in the form of several tall and elegant girls, who glided into her family's bakery one day when Zenzi's age had only just entered into double digits. Zenzi was immediately captivated by these older girls, who seemed to move with a kind of grace and poise that made even sitting at a small bakery's table seem oddly exquisite. Asking them bold-faced who they were, Zenzi was told they were students of the 'Helena Markos Tanz Akademie,' making them dance students.
  
  Zenzi decided then and there that she had found something that was truly worth dedicating her efforts towards. She would become like these graceful, beautiful students, and enrol in the academy. The following years of preparation was spent spending every penny of her allowance on books and music, trips to watch ballet performances, and anything else she could think to boost her chances.
  
  Her entry to the academy was, many years later, bought through a mixture of sheer effort and sheer stubbornness; the dance school was used to receiving a myriad of applications from the whole world over, but was perhaps ill-prepared for one stubborn eighteen year old girl to make the hike through the Black Forest on foot every weekend for almost two years straight. Every time, from the first instance to the last, Zenzi would come knocking at the prestigious school's doors, and with a practiced politeness asked to speak to a teacher, whom she would make her same plea to.
  
  Perhaps perplexed where Zenzi was even finding the time to practice ballet with how many hours she spent trekking through woodland, the academy's tutors finally relented and gave Zenzi a single chance to prove she deserved a spot amongst the students. Zenzi danced her heart out in that trial, but her acceptance into Helena Markos Tanz Akademie came with the warning she only passed by the absolute skin of her teeth. Zenzi didn't mind the dire warning; as far as she was concerned, she had finally take the fateful first step on her ultimate goal, and was truly glad for it. She was so glad that she could almost ignore how the corridors stretched in strange and disquieting ways, and how the howl of the wind sounded ghostly and unnatural as it cut through the shuddering trees of the forest that now surrounded her…
  Notes: Zenzi's family is actually still in Freiburg, and she goes to visit over the weekends quite frequently, but Zenzi insists on boarding at the school; in her stubborn head, she thinks if she had to work so hard to get into the darn place, she wants spend as much time there as possible.Her still living relatives consist of her mother, a younger sister, and her frequently glowering uncle.
  
  
  
  
  Name: Anya Roimata (played by Cam)
  Age: 22
  Eyes: Blue
  Hair: Dark Blonde
  Strengths: Can talk her way into or out of just about any situation, smart to the point of deviousness, effortless fashion sense, brave, can put up a decent fight.
  Weaknesses: Doesn't take well to criticism, doesn't express her inner self very well, prone to mood swings and overindulgence in vices.
  Likes: Fashion and jewelry, art collecting, interior design, swimming, most animals and insects, social gatherings, city life, wine.
  Dislikes: Laziness or inaction. Not particularly fond of children.
  Personality: Cold, impatient, and standoffish to most, but playful, flirty, domineering, and blunt with close acquaintances. She holds herself with a confident grace, and some might wish to dismiss her as an unlikable ice queen. But beneath an aloof exterior, she is capable of forming loyal bonds to those she deems worthy, probing to the very heart of who they are.
  History: A second year student, Anya does not speak much of her family, although they are presumed to be quite well-off, her mother growing up among the wealthy elite in Rome, and her father from old money in New Zealand and apparently of some renown. What she does speak of, however, are the many opportunities and successes she has experienced over the years, with her exotic allure attracting many would-be suitors, only for her to turn them away. She dabbled in modeling, sculpture, photography, violin, opera, and many other academic pursuits before settling on ballet. In her wake was left many broken hearts, and more than once did she find herself stalked by jilted ex-lovers. Some wonder if that's the real reason she came to the remote dance academy, though they wouldn't dream of saying it aloud to her face.
  
• 
  Miss Tanner: Lead dance instructor at the dance academy. Brutish, strict, and overbearing. Dresses in masculine suits and carries a cane, which she more often uses for corrective action as opposed to assistance with mobility.
  
  Madame Blanc: Deputy headmistress, or principal. She is liked by most of the students, despite not being directly involved with their day-to-day teaching. Cordial and classy, with a distinct mole on her left cheek.
  
  Olga: "The popular girl". Senior student. Tall, with jet black hair. Sassy, overdresses for nearly every occasion, butts heads with Anya especially. Rents a room in the city rather than boarding at the school.
  
  
  Sara: A likeable girl with curly red hair. Second year student, arrives early. Will prove to be a friend and ally to our trio.
  
  Mark: A third year student, and one of the few male students at the academy. Awkward but handsome, he is popular with the girls. Rumors abound that he isn't particularly wealthy, and does errands for Miss Tanner as partial payment.
  
  Daniel: School pianist, for keeping time during instruction. He is blind, with a German Shepherd as a seeing eye dog.
  
  Albert, and Albert's mother: Servants and housekeepers to the school. Something about their presence seems odd, and many of the girls describe their presence as "creepy". Not much else is said about them, and they seem to keep to themselves and out of sight.
  
  
  Professor Verdegast: School doctor, with a thick German accent. Balding with a combover, wears glasses.
  
  Pat Hingle: A senior student, murdered in the lobby of an apartment in town, the night before school starts for the year. She was close friends with Mark and Sara, and suspected something amiss at the school.
  
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  Coming Soon!
  
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  Coming Soon!
  
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  "The Three Mothers": Six copies are known to exist of this tome, and is the most comprehensive resource for information regarding the trio of witches known as Mater Suspiriorum, Mater Tenebrarum, and Mater Lachrymarum. It is told that in the dawn of the 11th Century, on the shores of the Black Sea, they entered a pact that would transform them to the most powerful witches in known history. For generations, they spread death and despair in their wake while amassing considerable wealth and power. They eventually took on new identities in order to keep working in secret as the world became more modern.
  
  E. Varelli: Without realizing the awful scope of their plan, he was contracted by three women to design and construct separate estates for each, with "sacred geometry" woven into the architecture to amplify magical energy. Only after completing the project did he learn that these women were witches who intend to bring about the end of the world. Keeping his first name concealed, Varelli broke the alchemist's vow of secrecy - Silentium - to write a book detailing the existence of the Three Mothers and their current whereabouts.
  
  Alchemists: A shadow cabal of men who practice a distinct form of magic using potions, transmutation, metallurgy, "divine architecture", and other physical objects to change the very makeup of elemental reality. To the layman, they may seem like a direct inverse to witches, and indeed consider witches to be their rivals. However, they more typically operate independently to protect their secrets, and might have their own motivations within the organization (an alchemist attacked one of the protagonists of Inferno when she tried to retrieve a copy of "The Three Mothers", but Varelli himself expressed regret in his writings for his role in endangering the world).
  
  Mater Suspiriorum (the Mother of Sighs): The oldest and wisest of the trio, also known as The Black Queen. Her home is in Freiburg, Germany.
  
  Mater Tenebrarum (the Mother of Darkness): The youngest and most cruel of the trio. Her home is in New York City.
  
  Mater Lachrymarum (the Mother of Tears): The most beautiful and powerful of the trio. Her home is in Rome, Italy.
  
  

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[cam]

"Hi, Zenzi" Sara said again, picking up where they left off. She took Kreszenz's hand as they came to a stop. The red floral walls erupted behind her head like a halo of blood. She chose her next words carefully, softly. "For newcomers, you've already met more students than I would've expected. You saw Pat, didn't you?"

Suzy circled around to look at Sara, folding her arms somewhat defensively across her chest. She jutted her head forward slightly, as one does when listening closely to whispered secrets, as if needing to see them as much as hear them. "I think so, yes. You knew her?"

Sara glanced between the two girls, pursing her lips. She shifted her weight on her heels and looked down the hallway, where at the end a vibrant stained glass window shone in geometric reds and yellows and blues. There was nobody else around as far as they could tell, and yet she continued to hesitate. Even before their meeting, she knew what Suzy saw, and ears were everywhere to spread rumor.

"I thought I was the last one who saw her leave the school," Sara said finally. "Until today."

Without thinking to ask why they were whispering, Suzy drew nearer again, settling ever-so-slightly closer to Kreszenz than to Sara. She felt the fear in her nerves again, fighting with the compulsion to know more. "You saw her, too? What happened last night?"

Sara began walking again, sticking her thumbnail between her teeth and nibbling on it. As the girls rounded the next corner, a tall, lumbering man approached from the opposite direction. His lower jaw protruded forward, and looked determined to meet the low slope of his brow, if not for the massive block of a nose separating the two. He was dressed in a servant's black slacks and pinstripe vest, with a towel draped over the arm of his white pressed shirt. The silver tray and tea set in his hands rattled as he ambled past the group.

"I'm not sure. Look, maybe we should talk about this later? I really just wanted to say hi and see if you needed a tour guide after orientation."

 

[Baddamobs]

Character Tab: Zenzi

- Name: Kreszenz Baumgartner, though much prefers her nickname of 'Zenzi'

- Age: 21

- Eyes: Honey-brown

- Hair: Light-brown

- Strengths: physically stronger than she looks, makes friends easily, inquisitive, loyal, fierce when driven

- Weaknesses: easily scared, struggles to connect to others beyond casual friendship, slow to forgive, stubborn at times, internalises doubts

- Appearance: Zenzi frequently favors clothes that might be considered on the more 'masculine' side, including preferring pants and trousers to skirts, though honestly this mostly stems from finding such ensembles being comfortable than any sense of fashion. She has the athletic build one invariable gains from focused dance routines, though she has subtle layer of muscle that might be consider slightly more dense than usual; it's frequently more than a bother than a boon, since her instructors won't hesitate to berate her lack of lithe grace.

- Personality: Bold, outgoing, and greeting each friend she meets along the way with equal enthusiasm, Zenzi moves through life with a kind of passion for living. With an odd duality of spending a great deal of time dragging friends to frivolous trips to town and spending hours at once practicing and training for ballet to exclusion of all else, Zenzi is at least someone who always gives her all in whatever she puts her mind to. While she has more friends and acquaintances than she can count, she struggles with making herself truly vulnerable and open to even people she's known for years, perhaps as a result of an friendship which soured in her early youth.

- Bio: Born and raised in Freiburg im Breisgau, Zenzi reaped all the benefits a baker's daughter could in her formative years, with one of the more prominent ones being the large flock of potential playmates that hovered around her family's bakery, playmates that made passionate declarations of friendship and comradely for whatever treats Zenzi could sneak out of her parent's shop.

Zenzi herself, however, wandered somewhat aimlessly from one interest to another as a child. Nothing seemed to hold her attention for long, and she likewise felt restless near constantly, making her question if she would ever find the supposed special talent or interest all of her childhood friends seemed to boast about.

A answer would arrive in the form of several tall and elegant girls, who glided into her family's bakery one day when Zenzi's age had only just entered into double digits. Zenzi was immediately captivated by these older girls, who seemed to move with a kind of grace and poise that made even sitting at a small bakery's table seem oddly exquisite. Asking them bold-faced who they were, Zenzi was told they were students of the 'Helena Markos Tanz Akademie,' making them dance students.

Zenzi decided then and there that she had found something that was truly worth dedicating her efforts towards. She would become like these graceful, beautiful students, and enrol in the academy. The following years of preparation was spent spending every penny of her allowance on books and music, trips to watch ballet performances, and anything else she could think to boost her chances.

Her entry to the academy was, many years later, bought through a mixture of sheer effort and sheer stubbornness; the dance school was used to receiving a myriad of applications from the whole world over, but was perhaps ill-prepared for one stubborn eighteen year old girl to make the hike through the Black Forest on foot every weekend for almost two years straight. Every time, from the first instance to the last, Zenzi would come knocking at the prestigious school's doors, and with a practiced politeness asked to speak to a teacher, whom she would make her same plea to.

Perhaps perplexed where Zenzi was even finding the time to practice ballet with how many hours she spent trekking through woodland, the academy's tutors finally relented and gave Zenzi a single chance to prove she deserved a spot amongst the students. Zenzi danced her heart out in that trial, but her acceptance into Helena Markos Tanz Akademie came with the warning she only passed by the absolute skin of her teeth. Zenzi didn't mind the dire warning; as far as she was concerned, she had finally take the fateful first step on her ultimate goal, and was truly glad for it. She was so glad that she could almost ignore how the corridors stretched in strange and disquieting ways, and how the howl of the wind sounded ghostly and unnatural as it cut through the shuddering trees of the forest that now surrounded her…

- Likes and hobbies: long drives, intricate machinery like clocks, history subjects, naps, vegetable gardening, dancing (as in casually; she'd define ballet as more of a passion or ambition)

- Dislikes and pet peeves: rainy days, open confrontation, overly sweet food, long stretches of isolation, being over looked

- Misc: Zenzi's family is actually still in Freiburg, and she goes to visit over the weekends quite frequently, but Zenzi insists on boarding at the school; in her stubborn head, she thinks if she had to work so hard to get into the darn place, she wants spend as much time there as possible.
Her still living relatives consist of her mother, a younger sister, and her frequently glowering uncle.

Zenzi had stiffened as Sara, one hesitant word at a time, started to unveil her knowledge, that she had been present when Pat Hingle had left the school building for the last time. Their conspiracy-like circle had tightened as Sara had spoken, Zenzi sensing rather than seeing Suzy lean in. Zenzi had unconsciously leant back in return, to the point where the two girls almost brushed against each other: it suddenly felt like a chill infected the air, and Suzy's presence was the only thing keeping Zenzi from shivering.

It wasn't long, however, before they were moving again, and this time they met someone stepping in the opposing direction.

Zenzi had tried her best to fade into the wall paper as the large man had walked past, then shot a curious look after his back was safely presented. Presumably one of the staff for the academy, though that bulky frame made him stand out a bit. More importantly, however, he reminded Zenzi that were very much talking in a space where anyone could just wander across them and catch them whispering about a supposed murder.

The corridor all at once felt too open and too exposed, like every door concealed a listening ear and the stained-glass windows hid spying eyes. To that end, Zenzi was more than glad to hear Sara's own reluctance to speak.

"M-maybe it would be better to talk about this after orientation. If the instructors we've met so far are anything to go by, I doubt any member of the staff would approve of us discussing this. I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to talk later, especially after your generous offer of a tour. Maybe it would be best to meet up in either of our rooms, where at least some privacy is guaranteed."

Zenzi nervously scanned both ends of the hallways, as if she expected to see shadowy figures hugging the corners, before turning back to Sara. When she did, she was struck by a sudden bout of sympathy for the other girl. The animated defiance she had displayed to Olga had slow faded away with each word relating to Pat, leaving behind a nervous skittishness. Judging by the vaguely familiar tone she used, Zenzi thought it wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine that Sara had been familiar with Pat, which no doubt made this whole situation harder. After a second of thought, Zenzi said,

"I'm sorry, Sara. If you knew Pat, this whole thing can't be easy for you. I'm sure the police will…"

…Catch whoever's responsible, stop it from happening again, find out what happened? All ultimately empty sentiments, since no matter what happens Sara's friend is still gone. Zenzi struggled for her words, before finally just shrugging and lamely finished,

"…Do something."

 

[cam]

"I'm sure," Sara agreed, while her thin smile reflected how unconvinced she was. "Pat caused a lot of trouble around here; it was kind of a love-hate thing with her, you know? But she didn't deserve this."

The main practice hall was massive, rectangular in shape with the pale wood floors of many like it polished smooth by generations of dancing feet. But despite its familiarity, Suzy felt out of place. It seemed older than anywhere else they'd been so far, like it was the first room built, and the rest of the structure had been built up around it. How she knew this, she couldn't be sure, but it was most certainly true.

A single, uninterrupted ballet barre followed the perimeter walls all the way around, almost subconsciously drawing their gaze past each group of students as they stretched and talked in a low murmur. And in the distant corner, behind a piano, sat the blind man they had seen in the lobby. His attention seemed drawn upward, where darkened windows looked down into the hall from the second floor, and chandeliers hung from the ceiling and twinkled dimly.

There was a scent in the air, also familiar, of ladies' fragrance and the exhalation of bodies in motion. Not unpleasant, but with all of her senses now in overdrive, she felt acutely aware of it, and something else still. If walls could talk, she thought to herself, and wondered at what they might also have heard.

By now, Sara had found her way to her own class group, crossing the long hall and leaving the two girls together again, and Suzy turned to Kreszenz.

"That was sweet of you. What you said, I mean. I got the same impression that they must've known each other. How awful."

Wanting to lighten the mood, she jokingly added, "Are you always this nice to everyone?"

 

[Baddamobs]

Character Tab: Zenzi

View attachment 208322

- Name: Kreszenz Baumgartner, though much prefers her nickname of 'Zenzi'

- Age: 21

- Eyes: Honey-brown

- Hair: Light-brown

- Strengths: physically stronger than she looks, makes friends easily, inquisitive, loyal, fierce when driven

- Weaknesses: easily scared, struggles to connect to others beyond casual friendship, slow to forgive, stubborn at times, internalises doubts

- Appearance: Zenzi frequently favors clothes that might be considered on the more 'masculine' side, including preferring pants and trousers to skirts, though honestly this mostly stems from finding such ensembles being comfortable than any sense of fashion. She has the athletic build one invariable gains from focused dance routines, though she has subtle layer of muscle that might be consider slightly more dense than usual; it's frequently more than a bother than a boon, since her instructors won't hesitate to berate her lack of lithe grace.

- Personality: Bold, outgoing, and greeting each friend she meets along the way with equal enthusiasm, Zenzi moves through life with a kind of passion for living. With an odd duality of spending a great deal of time dragging friends to frivolous trips to town and spending hours at once practicing and training for ballet to exclusion of all else, Zenzi is at least someone who always gives her all in whatever she puts her mind to. While she has more friends and acquaintances than she can count, she struggles with making herself truly vulnerable and open to even people she's known for years, perhaps as a result of an friendship which soured in her early youth.

- Bio: Born and raised in Freiburg im Breisgau, Zenzi reaped all the benefits a baker's daughter could in her formative years, with one of the more prominent ones being the large flock of potential playmates that hovered around her family's bakery, playmates that made passionate declarations of friendship and comradely for whatever treats Zenzi could sneak out of her parent's shop.

Zenzi herself, however, wandered somewhat aimlessly from one interest to another as a child. Nothing seemed to hold her attention for long, and she likewise felt restless near constantly, making her question if she would ever find the supposed special talent or interest all of her childhood friends seemed to boast about.

A answer would arrive in the form of several tall and elegant girls, who glided into her family's bakery one day when Zenzi's age had only just entered into double digits. Zenzi was immediately captivated by these older girls, who seemed to move with a kind of grace and poise that made even sitting at a small bakery's table seem oddly exquisite. Asking them bold-faced who they were, Zenzi was told they were students of the 'Helena Markos Tanz Akademie,' making them dance students.

Zenzi decided then and there that she had found something that was truly worth dedicating her efforts towards. She would become like these graceful, beautiful students, and enrol in the academy. The following years of preparation was spent spending every penny of her allowance on books and music, trips to watch ballet performances, and anything else she could think to boost her chances.

Her entry to the academy was, many years later, bought through a mixture of sheer effort and sheer stubbornness; the dance school was used to receiving a myriad of applications from the whole world over, but was perhaps ill-prepared for one stubborn eighteen year old girl to make the hike through the Black Forest on foot every weekend for almost two years straight. Every time, from the first instance to the last, Zenzi would come knocking at the prestigious school's doors, and with a practiced politeness asked to speak to a teacher, whom she would make her same plea to.

Perhaps perplexed where Zenzi was even finding the time to practice ballet with how many hours she spent trekking through woodland, the academy's tutors finally relented and gave Zenzi a single chance to prove she deserved a spot amongst the students. Zenzi danced her heart out in that trial, but her acceptance into Helena Markos Tanz Akademie came with the warning she only passed by the absolute skin of her teeth. Zenzi didn't mind the dire warning; as far as she was concerned, she had finally take the fateful first step on her ultimate goal, and was truly glad for it. She was so glad that she could almost ignore how the corridors stretched in strange and disquieting ways, and how the howl of the wind sounded ghostly and unnatural as it cut through the shuddering trees of the forest that now surrounded her…

- Likes and hobbies: long drives, intricate machinery like clocks, history subjects, naps, vegetable gardening, dancing (as in casually; she'd define ballet as more of a passion or ambition)

- Dislikes and pet peeves: rainy days, open confrontation, overly sweet food, long stretches of isolation, being over looked

- Misc: Zenzi's family is actually still in Freiburg, and she goes to visit over the weekends quite frequently, but Zenzi insists on boarding at the school; in her stubborn head, she thinks if she had to work so hard to get into the darn place, she wants spend as much time there as possible.
Her still living relatives consist of her mother, a younger sister, and her frequently glowering uncle.

"Ha, only to the people who are nice back." Zenzi pulled her expression into an exaggerated frown, and placed a hand to her chest in dramatic fashion. "'I'm Olga, and now that we're all acquainted, I'm sure that we'll all have a lovely time swanning about, noses in the air.'"

Chuckling (and feeling a little foolish) at her childish joke, Zenzi glanced about the hall, stepping over to lean against the barre as she did. The space had a strange, almost humbling feeling to it. Like she was stood inside a vaunted hall of a cathedral or stood before a towering castle, Zenzi had the distinct impression she was in the presence of something ancient and grand. Maybe it was just overwhelming to be finally stood in the heart of the prestigious dace academy, though some part of Zenzi wondered if there wasn't something else, something ethereal and uncanny.

Despite the strange feeling that filtered through the air, Zenzi found herself breathing a little easier. To be amongst the other students made Zenzi feel like things had somehow taken a single step back towards normalcy, and that she could afford to just worry about something as familiar as dancing.

As that thought passed through her mind, a question suddenly sprung into Zenzi's mind, and she turned an inquiring eye to Suzy.

"If you'll forgive my curiosity, what made you want to be a dancer, Suzy? And feel free to be honest, since whatever the reason it's probably still more sensible than mine." While she tried to maintain her gaze, Zenzi's eyes flicked away for a moment as she looked momentarily embarrassed. "I just always thought the girls who visited town from the academy were so impressive looking that I wanted to be like them. I only discovered that I actually liked dancing along the way."

 

[cam]

"Impressive looking? Aren't you--" impressive looking enough, she almost caught herself saying, and it felt like her mouth hung agape forever even if it was only a brief pause. "Aren't you glad it worked out, then?"

Her cheeks felt hot yet again, and she hoped it hadn't been immediately obvious what she was going to say. Using the opportunity to distract herself for a moment, she began to stretch, lifting one leg to rest her ankle atop the barre, and leaning forward to push both hands up the length of her leg to her foot. She remained in this position for a moment before repeating it with the other leg.

Back at the entryway, Olga appeared with an entourage in tow. She placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the rest of the room, and Suzy focused all of her attention back on Zenzi.

"I just always had a thing for music, I guess. I dunno how it is here, but in the States, we get to pick between different music classes, so I played a few instruments. But my aunt would take me every year to see The Nutcracker, and I think that's what did it. So I started taking dance lessons and doing the team competitions and all that."

She gave Zenzi's explanation some more thought, and realized how similar it was to her own motivations. Yes, music had been an inspiration, but she had seen something else in those ballerinas as well. On stage, they were magical, like faeries in flight, drifting on the air. Suzy had always been a slight girl, not capable of much strength, and family always insisted that she "eat a sandwich, all skin and bones", but dance made her feel like there was a chance she could look impressive to somebody. At times she felt like she could leap across the entire stage, and spin upward into the rafters to leave the world behind.

Of course, this was almost impossible to explain, but maybe Zenzi understood all the same.

"I'll probably go back home after this, but I'm not sure what I'll do. Maybe audition for the Nutcracker with New York City Ballet?" she said with a smile. "And look impressive to another girl who wants to be like us?"

 

[Baddamobs]

Zenzi blinked at the odd pause in Suzy's speech. She might have questioned it slightly more, but she was briefly distracted by the errant thought that Suzy's already soft and pretty features looked quite fetching when she blushed…

Zenzi cleared her throat, eyes briefly flicking away. Perhaps Suzy's flush was a result of the room's temperature, because now it felt like her own face was a little too heated. Still looking to one side (and noting with some displeasure that Olga had just stepped into the room), Zenzi made a small noise of acknowledgement, not entirely trusting her voice at moment.

It had indeed felt like something of a dream coming to life in front of her very eyes when Zenzi had received the letter of acceptance from the academy, and every moment after seemed to reinforce that all her efforts had finally bore sweet tasting fruit. Though, she would admit that this first day had turned out somewhat more eventful than expected.

She turned, mouth half open to say as much to Suzy, when she had to avert herself again, jaw snapping shut. Now she was certain there was something wrong with the temperature in this room: all she had seen was Suzy doing some perfectly normal stretches, but Zenzi's face felt all at once like it was on fire. She had been around other dancers long enough to see stretches like being performed, but something about the image of Suzy's tights clothed leg stretched up and out, thigh tensed, was…

Coughing, Zenzi quickly set about her own warm-up stretches, dropping to the ground and stretching out her legs and reaching as far towards her feet as she could manage with her arms (as much as to have an excuse to have her face averted to the floor as anything else). Thankfully the routine caused Zenzi's heartrate to normalise, as did the gentle tone of Suzy's voice.

Zenzi smiled at the image of Suzy going to see The Nutcracker. While Zenzi's infatuation with ballet may have begun with just seeing the girl from the academy in a humble environment, seeing them dancing upon a stage was what cemented it. There was a magical quality to how a dancer moved when before an audience, spinning and sliding to a beat, that was almost enchanting. It was easy to understand how Suzy would be taken in by such a sight.

Coming out of her stretch, Zenzi turned her gaze back up to Suzy, just in time to see the other girl smiling down at her.

"I'll probably go back home after this, but I'm not sure what I'll do. Maybe audition for the Nutcracker with New York City Ballet? And look impressive to another girl who wants to be like us?"

Zenzi was still, for a moment, before a smile crept across her face.

"Now that," Zenzi pulled herself to her feet, smile widening a little as she bumped her elbow gently against Suzy. "Is a cause worth dancing for, I think."

Zenzi laughed, though she couldn't ignore the slight pang she felt in her chest.

'Go home.' Of course, that was what Suzy would do, she had come here just to study not to stay. Still, maybe it was a little bittersweet to think that after their time in the academy was done, Suzy would disappear to a place half the globe away. Still, it wasn't as if Zenzi could blame her, since if their situations were reversed, Zenzi would almost certainly want to go back to her own family.

…Family…

"So, you went to see The Nutcracker with your aunt?" Zenzi's words came slowly from her mouth, hesitance behind each one. "Would that aunt be the person Madame Blanc mentioned before? Carol Bannion?"

As soon as the words slipped past her lips, Zenzi wished she could bite them back. Hadn't she just seen first-hand how pure Suzy's love for dance was, just been musing on how sad she was going to be when this temporary friendship finally came to an end? And now she was approaching a dangerous subject, like each word tore open a seal on a box that should remained closed. Despite that, Zenzi couldn't deny that her mind would not settle, not until she poked at the subject.

"What is she like? Your aunt, I mean. She…must appreciate the arts, to go to The Nutcreaker each year."

 

[cam]

"Oh yes, the Carol Bannion," she said with a mockingly dramatic tone, the kind that often came with the roll of one's eyes. Instead, she playfully scrunched her nose.

The fact was, Madame Blanc did have the right of it. Aunt Carol was indeed a marvelous woman. A dancer herself in her earlier years, she eventually settled into far-reaching philanthropy, as if preserving the arts was a compulsion. Suzy certainly couldn't fault her for it, and recognized that her own natural interests had been encouraged as a result. When her parents expressed some uncertainty regarding the cost of dance lessons, Carol had stepped in to contribute. But actual visits were rare outside of holidays, and Suzy was eventually able to finance or pay her own way.

What was Carol like? Suzy had grown accustomed to having a local celebrity in the family, but sometimes forgot how small and exclusive the world of dance could be. Even all the way out here in Germany, it shouldn't have been surprising that her name had some importance.

She straightened and stood high on her toes, turning her heels inward for a moment, and then outward again. She remembered how this used to burn and ache. Now it was a relief to be that much further away from the ground that held her in place.

"She's super nice, really, and helped me get started. But, I guess when you want to be a dancer and your rich aunt is already known in the field, getting recognized as her niece rather than your own person gets a little old sometimes. But I'm here because I want to be."

Suzy said this with a defensive sort of certainty, dropping back down to the soles of her feet. In the same moment, a gossiping titter came from a group of girls nearby, drawing her attention to where a boy was passing through the practice hall. He looked lost, standing out particularly among the mostly female classmates, but made his way toward the same group that Sara had joined previously. He was undeniably handsome, with the strong physique of a dancer and a square jaw framed by long locks of blonde, which was no doubt the cause of the nearby giggling. He slowed in the middle of his stride and looked to Kreszenz and Suzy, a bashful smile on his lips as he spotted them in return.

"Don't look now, but I think you have an admirer," Suzy whispered. She turned away, rather un-casually, hoping to transfer his gaze entirely to her hapless friend.

 

[Baddamobs]

Zenzi listened intently as Suzy spoke, halting her own efforts at stretching for the duration to focus all her energy into dissecting Suzy's words.

The only thing she found, however, was what she should have probably suspected all along: a loving aunt, and the niece who wanted her own efforts to be judged, not her blood ties. At that moment Zenzi saw that it wouldn't have mattered even if Suzy's aunt had helped her enter into the field: the conviction that sat firmly behind her tone showed that Suzy had at least the drive to make it this far, regardless of anything else.

A crumb of uncertainty still sat in Zenzi's stomach like a rock – was that conviction enough to justify any other advantage Suzy had been given, most likely without her own awareness? – but for the most part the only thing Zenzi felt for sure was a lot of shame for doubting Suzy at all.

"I see…I…" am sorry for doubting you, Suzy. That was what she wanted to say, to ensure the doubt that still crept in some small way at the back of her mind wouldn't muddy the waters between them, before a series of giggles broke through the air.

Curious (and perhaps a little glad for a change in subject), Zenzi craned her neck around, spotting a young man making his way uncertainly across the room. He definitely seemed the type that would earn some admiring whispers, having both an athletic build and defined features that set him apart from even from the other rare male students. He had been on a course to join Sara's group, but seemed to be briefly halted by looking over to where Zenzi and Suzy stood, smiling a little bashfully.

"Don't look now, but I think you have an admirer,"

"Wha-" Zenzi half-hopped in place, shooting Suzy a scandalised look, before snapping rigidly back around as the boy took several hesitant steps closer, offering a slight wave of a hand as he approached.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting, but are you both new students?"

"Yep. We, err, just arrived today," Zenzi said, a little awkwardly. While hardly a centre of attention, she was aware the girls who had been giggling before were giving them a curious look, like this exchange was some vaguely interesting performance act. "Still…settling in, I suppose."

A beat of silence, in which Zenzi cast her eyes about with the vague hope that this unexpected conversation had finally grown boring enough that the small cluster of girls from before had finally move their attention elsewhere. No such luck in that regard, much to Zenzi's chagrin.

Coughing, Zenzi finally spoke again,

"Please, feel free to call me Kreszenz…?" Zenzi nodded her head in askance; if she was going to stuck talking, she could at least have the guy's name, 'admirer' or not.

 

[cam]

"Mark," he offered sheepishly, confused. Like Sara, it was difficult to place his accent.

Suzy began to turn back to him and make her own introduction, but caught herself and stifled a laugh, turning away again. Her face was bright red now, feeling the collective attention of nearly everyone else in the immense hall. Mixed with the embarrassment was a sense of relief that at least Zenzi was along for the ride, too. Accidental compatriots, on a grand stage before they were even dancing. What a wild production already. Murder, a blonde prince charming, two heroines - and something else? She turned again, upturned eyes locking with Zenzi's again for longer than she intended, and finally greeted Mark.

"Sorry, we've just been kind of overwhelmed on our first day," she said, nervously patting at her curls.

Suddenly, Olga was behind them, slinking between Zenzi and Suzy like a protective cat on the prowl. She hooked her arms around the shoulders of both girls as if they were long lost friends. "Mark, you ladykiller, leave these poor girls alone. Not even a day old and still blind and wobbly like lost little kittens."

Suzy, who was too polite to move or protest, gave an uncomfortable sideways glance to Olga. "I thought I had the name of a snake?"

"Oh, I was just kidding," she admonished, exaggeratedly. "Don't tell me you're as touchy as Sara."

Olga then turned her attention to Zenzi, lips parted as if to say something, but she stopped herself, eyes fluttering downward for an uncomfortably long time. For all her talk of snakes, being caught in her gaze felt like being at the mercy of a viper ready to strike. "Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. It might help you girls to have a senior showing you the ropes, you know. I bet we'd do nicely together. I think you're sweet!"

If everyone's attention wasn't already on the pair before, it certainly was now. It even felt, somehow, like there were gazes from beyond the darkened windows overhead.

 

[Baddamobs]

"Nice to meet you, uh, Mark."

Zenzi cleared her throat, and just about resisted the urge to twist around to the students observing the exchange and demand 'don't you all have something better to do than gawk!?'

Zenzi sighed, swallowing down that particular desire. She had no objections to being at the other end of people's gaze so long as she was on a stage, instead of whatever confused 'boy-meets-girl' drama the rest of the student body seemed to imagining. Her gaze flicked over to Suzy, perhaps hoping to convey her exasperation in a look alone, just in time to catch an extended look that Zenzi couldn't place.

Blinking a little in confusion, it took Zenzi a second to realize just how long the silence had dragged on, though thankfully Suzy had taken mercy and spoken up. Attempting a smile that became more of a grimace, Zenzi silently pleaded to whatever higher power that was listening for a way out of this…

A hand landed on her shoulder, followed swiftly by the scent of an elegant (and expensive) smelling perfume. Zenzi stiffened, shoulders tense, as she spun her gaze around, finding that Olga had situated herself between her and Suzy. Zenzi felt her grimace melt immediately into a frown as the black-haired girl lent against her like it was the most natural motion in the world.

"Mark, you ladykiller, leave these poor girls alone. Not even a day old and still blind and wobbly like lost little kittens."

"I wasn't- I mean, I was just trying to be polite." Mark protested, already red features becoming almost scarlet, though Zenzi only half noticed. She was more focused on Olga acting exceptionally chummy with Suzy, laughing off her earlier comments as mere jokes. The image of the girl talking down to Suzy like that sent Zenzi's teeth grinding in her mouth, but before she could utter a word, Olga switched her focus around to her.

Thanks to Olga's position of hanging between Zenzi and Suzy, arm wrapped companionly around both girl's shoulders, there was not much more than a handspan or two between Zenzi and Olga's faces. The sudden closeness made it impossible to ignore how despite how light and airy her words were, the senior girl's eyes had sharpened to a razor focus. Danger seemed to lurk behind those grey-blue depths in a way that reminded Zenzi far too much of predator waiting to strike.

"Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. It might help you girls to have a senior showing you the ropes, you know. I bet we'd do nicely together. I think you're sweet!"

Zenzi tried to hold onto her resolve, maybe even find the strength to put her feet into motion and pull out from under Olga's arm, but she found her nerves suddenly fraying.

It had been easy to shoot down Olga before, when the fire of indignation had been in her belly and they had been standing in a quiet stretch of corridor. Here, under the collective gaze of the student body and all at once much too close to Olga's piercing gaze, Zenzi all at once really did feel like a kitten. A kitten currently staring right into the eyes of a panther.

Zenzi tried to swallow down her nerves. She shouldn't let herself be intimidated by this girl, not the least after how clearly, she laid out what she thought of her before. But a quick glance around the room confirmed that their audience was waiting for an answer, and it felt like even a slight misstep could be disastrous. Not the least because Suzy was still hooked under Olga's other arm; if Zenzi blew up at Olga, and Suzy was caught in the cross-fire…

"…R…right." Zenzi finally managed, stiffly nodding her head. "You're right, I mean. I guess first day nerves just got the better of me, h-haha."

Zenzi almost couldn't believe the tripe that came out from between her lips, but swallowed back her pride and said,

"We'd be glad to have a…friend, like you, Olga."

 

[cam]

"No need to apologize, Zenzi," Olga purred, even though nobody had said anything about an apology of any sort. "Friends don't let friends feel bad."

She swayed her hips, bumping against Suzy and then Zenzi, back and forth. Her eyes flitted upward to their audience, as if accepting her victory atop a podium. See how easy that was, her lipstick smile seemed to say to everyone watching. Mercifully, this also appeared to bring their drama to a satisfying conclusion, and the students returned to their own talks and warmups, leaving the girls to discuss things behind closed curtain.

"You caught one. Didn't you see how he was blushing?" she said, referring to Mark, who was now back across the room. He and Sara leaned in to say something to the other, unheard. So many whispers in this school. Even bold and theatrical Olga was lowering her voice now. "I'd be careful if I were you two. I mean, obviously none of these girls can compete with your good looks, but well. He never has enough cash for room and board here, so Tanner's got him under her thumb. A thousand-and-one errands to do! Makes you wonder, right? Like, what else is he doing for her?"

Suzy wrinkled her nose. Without realizing, she was on much the same wavelength as Zenzi. They shouldn't have to feel intimidated by Olga, and yet she was. Suzy thought of how effortlessly kind Zenzi was, that she carried herself without an air of pretension, and how easily it had been to accept her offer of friendship when compared to Olga's. She'd known both girls in roughly the same span of time, but desperately wished to be hip-to-hip with Zenzi instead.

"And poor Pat. She liked him a lot. I wouldn't want my new friends being his rebound, you know?"

Olga gave Zenzi another pointed look, eyebrows curled upward in pity that seemed insincere, even if there was no way to prove it. And then she was giving Suzy the same look. "I hear you saw her yesterday evening?"

"Uh huh, outside the school," Suzy responded. Gosh, is it normal in Germany to stand this close for so long? She had forgotten to throw her shawl back on after changing, and found the air in the hall to be a bit drafty, but she certainly didn't need it now.

"She felt terrible when they kicked her out," Olga concluded, finally releasing her grip. "But she really deserved it."

It was impossible to tell if Olga was referring to being expelled from school, or being murdered. And it was impossible to tell if this was by accident or by intent. And then she was gone, as if that's all the goodbye that was needed. Indeed, why say goodbye at all? They were going to be seeing a lot of each other.

After what felt like a stinging, red-hot eternity, the two freshmen girls were left alone again, and Suzy let out a long sigh. Without fully understanding the impulse, she wanted to reach for Zenzi's hand and squeeze it. Instead she awkwardly rubbed her arm and shuffled closer, forcing a nervous laugh to lighten the mood.

"Wow, um. So that was something? Is it too late to transfer schools?"

In the entry doorway stood Madame Blanc and Miss Tanner. It was unclear how long they'd been standing there. Had they been watching the proceedings the whole time? With throngs of students in front of them, and the light from the outside hall throwing the women into a weird sort of silhouette, it was impossible to discern the expressions on their faces.

 

[Baddamobs]

Zenzi squirmed in place, wanting to be anywhere else but under Olga's arm. Usually, she was glad to be called by her nickname; she thought it rolled off the tongue and sounded sweeter to the ear compared to the full pronunciation of Kreszenz.

However, there was an acidic quality to the way Olga said it that made Zenzi press her lips into a thin line. It sounded as familiar as ever, but Zenzi had the distinct impression that Olga would use the same tone of voice when cooing to a dog.

She listened, silent, as Olga indulged in gossiping about Mark. Zenzi felt the last vestige of her false smile fade at the girl's final implication. How much of what she was saying was made as a cruel exaggeration at the young man's expense and how much of it was the true Zenzi didn't guess at, though she felt quietly sure that Olga gleaned far too much enjoyment from it regardless. Zenzi also wasn't sure what to make of the idea that Mark's flustered expression was because of her, an idea she didn't immediately know what to do with.

Though, before she could give the matter much more thought, Olga was already leaving, satisfied she had made whatever point she had been aiming for, though not without one final barb off her tongue.

"…But she really deserved it."

Zenzi frowned openly at the girl's retreating back. Zenzi couldn't tell if Olga had been referring to Pat's expulsion or sudden death, but either choice revealed a callous side to her that didn't surprise Zenzi in the slightest.

A sigh slipped out of Zenzi's mouth. She was feeling almost immediate regret for not standing up to Olga. Just what had she allowed herself to be dragged into?

"Wow, um. So that was something? Is it too late to transfer schools?"

Suzy's voice, even in its current tone, helped to reorientate Zenzi a little. Despite everything, Suzy was still next to her, a fact that was oddly relieving.

"Would be nice, if we could transfer to somewhere with less volatile drama waiting to happen," Zenzi laughed a little, before shaking her head. When she looked up, however, her face was serious. "Still, I think we've both worked too hard to let a little hazing by Miss Queen-Bee-Wannabe make us run away. I'll waltz to Olga's tune for the time being if it gets her to leave us alone when the important dancing takes place."

Zenzi was on the cusp of saying something else, mostly wondering about what Olga said about Pat Hingly, before she noticed the rather disquieting image of Madame Blanc and Miss Tanner standing in the hall's doorway. With the light casting them in deep shadows they seemed for a moment to be closer to shades or ghosts than mortals, and Zenzi nearly let out a squeak of surprise.

"Speaking of which, we should probably at least give the impression that we're still focused on dancing before anything else." Zenzi coughed, gesturing to the doorway with her head, a little nervously. "If Madame Blanc or Miss Tanner find out we've been gossiping instead of stretching, we might not make it through orientation."

 

[cam]

Suzy nearly backed into Zenzi as she turned to spot Tanner and Blanc in the doorway. She wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved or concerned. Certainly Olga would be on better behavior with supervision at hand, but the pair of women looked liked unfeeling stone statues in the dim light. For a very brief moment, Suzy felt dizzy, as if she couldn't focus her vision. She felt a familiar sensation from childhood, but couldn't place it exactly. Anxiety, perhaps? Like she was in grade school again, and didn't know anybody, or where she should be standing in a world much larger than her. Weirder still, she didn't feel like she was inhabiting her own body. But it was gone almost as quickly as it came.

Miss Tanner strode into the room, finding a place where the chandelier glow seemed to pool like a spotlight. With everyone's faces now turned towards the center of the room, Suzy had a better idea of who her peers might be, and noted that the number was actually smaller than she had assumed - perhaps a little over three dozen - and recalled just how exclusive the academy was. She felt her chest tighten, and wondered if she and Zenzi were the only freshmen this year.

"Miss Tanner, I have something to tell you," insisted a student, and Suzy was sure it was going to be about the little scene that had just played out for everyone.

But then Olga, unseen from where they currently stood, interrupted mockingly. "Squawk squawk, Polly parrot!"

The student whirled around. "Who said that? Shut up!"

Tanner bounced the end of her cane on the floor, demanding silence. "That's enough of these little games for now."

She then gestured to Zenzi and Suzy. "Let us begin by welcoming our two new students, Suzy Bannion and Kreszenz Baumgartner to our academy."

Everyone turned in silence to look at the girls. Across the room, Sara and Mark waved sheepishly, and that was all the welcome they received.

"Now then," continued Tanner. "As you all know, our courses last three years, and you must pass an exam at the end of each. We don't teach you how to dance here, because we presume that our students already know how to do that. This is an established academy, dedicated to specializing."

Again, Suzy wondered again if Miss Tanner had at some point been a drill instructor. The woman's intimidating height and frame, the high and tight traditionalist braid of her gray hair, the use of a cane for reprimand rather than walking. The lead instructor stood stock still and upright as she spoke - an orator in front of an abject audience.

"As you all know, a terrible misfortune has befallen one of our former students. You may find yourselves questioned by Freiburg police, and we expect you to be cooperative and represent the academy appropriately. We do not tolerate rumor or hearsay in this institution, and anyone not conducting themselves as expected will face disciplinary action. Let us all be on our best behavior and remain focused on the art of dance."

Tanner flashed that same, practiced, toothy grin she had given Zenzi and Suzy in the lobby. "Now then. Everyone on this morning's list, report to the Yellow Room. Senior students, please break out to your first classes. Kreszenz and Suzy, please stay here in the practice hall."

Suzy felt a sinking feeling, and the warmth seemed to drain out of her as the rest of the students filed out of the room, until almost perfect silence was left in their wake. Tanner remained where she stood, along with the man at the piano nearby, and Madame Blanc in the doorway, who was now joined by another teacher that Zenzi would instantly recognize.

"Mrs. Abate, if you please," beckoned Tanner.

 

[Baddamobs]

Mrs Abate was a figure that, at first glance, was almost easy to overlook. Compared to upright and commanding presence of Miss Tanner and the cold calculation of Madam Blanc's eyes, Mrs Abate's stooped figure and beady gaze made her look fairly unimpressive. However, as she slowly shuffled into the room, wheezing breaths disquietingly distinctive in the large space, there was an odd 'focus' to her presence was hard to ignore. Age may have bent her body and turned her hair a dusty grey, but it had clearly not robbed her of a single iota of her intellect. At the very least her appearance had caused Zenzi to stiffen with shock, and shrink back slightly as the old woman's unimpressed vision swept over her. Taking in Zenzi's attire, Abate huffed,

"I suppose you at least look the part now," Raising her voice, she spoke in a much more formal and practiced tone. "As you both well know, Tanz Akademie is regarded to train exceptional dancers, a reputation that is well earned. We take in the great and talented, and refine them to be truly impressive. To do that, however, we must first take their measure."

Mrs Abate gave the girls a serious look over her long, hooked nose, wrinkles creasing as she frowned.

"Before we send any new arrivals to classes, we first have them demonstrate something of their capabilities. Nothing much, just a simple dance or routine of their own choosing. One of you might be familiar with the idea, but I'd remind you that gyrating about in the woods in the dead of night proves at most that you can dance, not that you are any good at it."

At that, Zenzi cleared her throat and glanced off to one side, looking slightly abashed. Mrs Abate continued,

"Daniel will provide backing for you, so long as you have sensible requests. And try not to be too nervous; we didn't grant you admission and invite one of you from half-way across the world just to discharge you based on a single routine. Though…don't relax too much."

Abate looked distinctly hawkish at that last point, giving each student in turn a long look. The silent point was clear: even if this wasn't as vital at the exams, they would have to face, this was still a test not to be taken too lightly. After that, Abate waved a hand, took a few steps back, and said whoever was feeling most confident could begin.

Zenzi, feeling a rush born of nerves, took a half-step forward at the command before immediately shrinking back. Not quick enough that the movement went without note, Zenzi averting her gaze again as the three teachers locked onto her. Zenzi appeared to become completely still, but Suzy was close enough to hear her nervous mumbles as she tried to figure out her actual plan.

"…maybe one of those basic training routines…or perhaps the start to La Sylphide…" Zenzi struggled for a few breaths. Under the scrutinizing gaze of such unforgiving watchers, Zenzi's mind had suddenly turned blank. Each memorised step and dance had turned from specific performances into a singular grey blob, movements blending together until they became indistinct from one another.

Fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides, Zenzi appeared for all the world to be frozen in place.

 

[cam]

Gyrating about in the woods at night.

Why did that particular string of words stick in Suzy's head the way it did? Mrs. Abate's tone was derisive, but there was something else there. It almost sounded literal, as if dancing between skyward flung pines could only ever take a certain form. Again, she felt the sensation of no longer inhabiting the present moment. She was in high school again, on a field trip. A painting in a museum gallery held her attention in place, a dim vignette focusing her vision on the women dancing naked in a field, too high above the ground to be believed. In reality, she couldn't have lingered for very long, but in this sudden memory she had remained standing there, transfixed for an eternity. The warmth that had left her body came rushing back, settling beneath the pale flesh of her neck.

With a burst of defiant energy, Suzy leapt forward onto her toes. She couldn't recall a single routine, and yet some great purpose coursed through her outstretched limbs, flowing from the fingertips of one hand to the other, a storm's tide whipping her about. Daniel hadn't even set his fingers to the keys, and yet she heard a desperate, yearning melody ringing in her ears. With her arms entwined together above her head, she spun in place and imagined cool night breeze enveloping her. With her eyes closed, she circled around Zenzi, wondering what it must have been like to dance with her beneath the moonlight.

Often, in ballet, it was possible for one with an experienced eye to discern the points at which a dancer tightened their core to prepare for the next movement, that optimal time to regain momentum. Even after years of experience, this was sometimes still a conscious act, choosing when to breathe and when to exhale. But Suzy felt a forever momentum, even as she leapt into the air, kicking her legs apart and coming silently back to the floor, over and over, continuing her circle around Zenzi. Each leap was higher than the last, and each return brought her lower until she nearly slunk across the ground with both hands, somehow never slowing, never making even the slightest sound.

Suzy felt both a fury of purpose and an absence of thought, movement somehow automatic and intentional all at once. She saw the dim dance hall but it meant nothing. Her circular path tightened around Zenzi, as the forest did around the academy, as a petal is caught in a quickening zephyr, as the black sea seeks a lighthouse, as heavenly objects collide.

"Enough!" Mrs. Tanner's cane came down sharply on the hardwood, snapping Suzy into the present, where she found herself with a hand outstretched towards Zenzi, as if readying to lead the girl in dance. She quickly withdrew it in embarrassment, holding it to her chest as she spun to face the trio of faculty. How long had she been dancing? A minute? An hour? Suddenly she was catching her breath, as if all of the effort finally caught up to her.

Madame Blanc and Mrs. Abate exchanged glances and it was impossible to tell if they were impressed or disgusted. Tanner, however, looked furious. Suzy wanted to shrink into nothingness right then and there.

 

[Baddamobs]

Zenzi was, much to her own guilt, more than slightly relived when she sensed movement by her side: it meant that Suzy was going first, after all, and that meant that she would have more time to figure out just what the heck could be done to get through this little test. She thought she would use the chance to run through her own options, even if that meant she would only be able to pay half as much attention to Suzy's style of dance, something she had been quietly curious about for a while.

But when Suzy launched into movement without so much as a word or even waiting for any kind of musical backing, Zenzi found herself unable to focus on anything else.

If there was a name for routine Suzy followed, Zenzi had no recollection of it, nor would she have been able to even guess at the beat such an enrapturing dance would follow. It wouldn't have mattered regardless: with music or without, each spin and motion Suzy flowed into seemed to carry its own electrifying weight, like each stretch of her arms and legs filled the room with graceful energy. Zenzi eyes traced each leap and step, fears and worry becoming wholly consumed by the effort of trying to take in both the grand and subtle shifts in Suzy's entire body as she danced to a tune she alone seemed able to hear.

So distracted in her fasciation, it actually took Zenzi a few moments to realize why she could appreciate such small details, namely that even with such free-flowing movement Suzy was still extremely close. Zenzi's breath caught as she realized with start that Suzy wasn't moving to the open space in the middle of the hall, but instead focusing her dance around Zenzi herself.

Zenzi all at once found herself frozen in place in once more, though this time not for fear or indecision. Instead, she felt all at once like she was now involved in something marvellous and strange, and didn't want to risk disturbing the flow of whatever wonderful tide she had been caught in. She might have found the notion more disquieting, but at each moment she found herself drawn more and more into Suzy's…everything.

The grace and power of the girl's movements, the unknowable beat she danced to, and most of all the girl's eyes. Suzy's eyes had a strange light to them: at once immensely focused, but strangely 'distant,' like she saw through Zenzi as much at her. They seemed in that single moment like twin pools of hazel starlight – intoxicating in their endless depths. Zenzi was so drawn in that it was a long moment before she even realized Suzy had one hand proffered forward. A silent invitation to the unfathomable dance.

Zenzi's hand, without prompting, started to slowly rise, fingers shaking. She felt nearly overwhelmed with nerves, confusion, but most of all the strange almost flush of desire to entwine her fingers with Suzy's, and to be dragged into hypnotic dance, to press herself in close and-

"Enough!"

The room, of which Zenzi had almost forgotten she was standing in, seemed to snap back into focus, the strange energy that seemed to have filled the space suddenly disappearing. Zenzi blinked, hand still hovering half-way up by her side as Suzy seemed to come back into herself, the odd light vanishing from her eyes, replaced with more recognisable shock and worry.

Zenzi, still feeling oddly 'dizzy,' looked about. Madam Blanc and Mrs Abate were giving each other unreadable looks, Miss Tanner looked ready to burst with rage, and Daniel looked thoroughly perplexed; most likely confused why he could hear movement but no requests for music.

Trying to force her focus back, Zenzi buried the sudden slew of questions racing through her mind – Why had Suzy danced like that, what was the strange look the girl had filling her eyes and why did Zenzi herself feel so thoroughly out of breath – and tried to figure out what to do.

First things first, Tanner's pure anger and Suzy subsequently shrinking back had to be her first focus. Regardless of the dance itself, Zenzi couldn't just let Suzy get in trouble. Although, her options were fairly limited to essentially one course of action: distract.

"Err, that was super excellent, Suzy, [well done!]" Zenzi (half cursing herself for slipping back into German from nerves), clapped Suzy on the shoulder and hurriedly stepped forward into the centre of the room. All three school matrons turned to look, with varying degrees of annoyance, but Zenzi ploughed on, driven more by the fact that she only held the floor so long as she kept going than any actual bravado. "Daniel, how about you give me a…err…"

It took a little bit of prompting and guess work from the pianist, but eventually they somehow settled on a fairly common and simple song to go with. Compared to Suzy's electrifying dance, Zenzi's was much more constrained: her leaps and spins were executed perfectly well, but to a discerning eye one could see the stiffness and minute moments of hesitation. The only moments it seemed to shift – for better or worse – was when she risked a glance at Suzy.

Zenzi focused her dance towards her primary audience of Blanc, Tanner and Abate, but there were moments during a twirl or as she turned after a leap when she looked over to Suzy's position. While it was impossible to get a good look at the other girl while Zenzi was in such a flux of motion, each passing glimpse reminded her in snapshots of memories of the girl's own enigmatic performance. It seemed to, if only in small fits and bursts, give her own performance some life. She imagined, just once or twice, that she was trying to follow the steps that Suzy had leading with, but forced herself to stop when she realized she was losing focus.

Before too long, Zenzi came to a stop. While her performance had been nowhere nearly as shocking as Suzy's, it was likewise not especially eye-catching either. When the girl finally gave a stiff half-bow and awkwardly stepped back to Suzy's side, the hall seemed to be filled with a heavy silence, the faces of Blanc, Tanner and Abate nearly unreadable.

 

[cam]

Suzy nearly jumped out of her skin when Zenzi touched her, but was nonetheless thankful for the distraction as she tried to account for time. In her mind, the dance had gone on forever, but surely it couldn't have been any longer than a few minutes. Why had she suddenly remembered that painting from her high school trip? Had she really spent forever counting each microscopic ridge of each brush stroke? A strange sort of panic was settling in as she realized that she could not even remember the bus ride there, or any other details of the day. And now she couldn't even account for her own motions. If she had been dancing forever, where did forever even begin? Suzy was already a small girl, and she felt even smaller when measured against the passing of time.

She lifted her gaze to watch Zenzi, and wondered just what the hell it was she'd hoped to accomplish by taking the girl's hand. A pas de deux, perhaps, but why? And without prior practice? The lead in such a dance was traditionally male, something she imagined Mark would've happily volunteered for if the chance presented itself.

Her cheeks burned as she caught Zenzi's gaze, wondering if the girl could read her thoughts. But maybe that would bring some measure of comfort. If Zenzi could read whatever these thoughts were, then perhaps some sense could be made. Unconsciously, automatically, she inhaled quietly as Zenzi did, and exhaled in synchronicity.

At the end of Zenzi's dance, the trio eyed the students in silence. Madame Blanc was the first to move, stepping forward with practiced grace. She eyed both girls up and down as she had upon their first meeting, nodding to them and then to Tanner, before moving past them and out of the dance hall. Suzy helplessly watched her leave, feeling her heart drop.

"A lovely performance," Tanner said, with a toothy smile in Zenzi's direction. "You may join the others in the Yellow Room, down the hall. Suzy, a moment, please."

 

[Baddamobs]

Zenzi's first instincts, of all possible things, was to object to leaving the room: while she had a myriad of questions about Suzy's dance, the fear that the girl was going to be in trouble for it was something that seemed worth opposing. Afterall, even if it was highly unorthodox, surely a school focused around dance couldn't punish a student for such an enthralling performance, correct? At least, such logic made sense to Zenzi's admittedly still muddled head.

However, before the words could even half form in the girl's throat, the sharp flash of Madam Blanc's eyes and Tanner's still far from happy glare made her hesitate, and then lose will. To leave Suzy under such unkind gazes alone felt somehow cruel, but to stand up to them herself felt in that moment all but impossible. A cold, pragmatic side to Zenzi reminded her that she hadn't worked so hard to get into the school, just to jeopardize it by hopelessly trying to help a girl she had just met.

She turned in place to face Suzy, half opened her mouth like she was about to say…something, perhaps anything. In in the end, however, she merely closed her mouth with a 'click,' and hesitantly turned back, crept slowly over to the door and slipped through. She glanced only once back, just as the door silently swung shut, one final worried glance before the room was closed off from her.

Zenzi suddenly found herself alone in the corridor, body all at once buzzing with a vaguely frantic energy and yet locked completely still from uncertainty. The long hallway seemed, impossibly, more sinister and imposing then before, and the vague and groan of the building being buffeted by the high winds outside seemed to almost echo in the isolated gloom.

Glancing about like she would find the answer to her dilemma written on the very walls, Zenzi hesitated before moving off. She, for the very first time since she stepped into the building, had a good idea of where she should go, the distant sound music and voices cluing her into the direction of the Yellow Room. And yet, for some reason, she couldn't bear the thought of just stepping too far from the room she had left Suzy behind in. Like this 'betrayal' she was somehow enacting would only be complete when she had left the area entirely, and she still had time to redeem herself as long as she dithered about in front of the door.

Admittedly, all this amount to was hovering by the door, fidgeting and worrying at her fingers, pacing in place and seriously contemplating putting her ear to the door, before the fear of being discovered to be eavesdropping caused her to finally about face and slink down the corridor, heading to the Yellow Room with a bent head and a heart full of lead.

Zenzi carefully crept into the Yellow Room to find it a bustle of productive noise and movement. It felt almost strange to cross across the threshold, like she was stepping out of whatever strange and usual world she had left behind in the other room and returning to the ordinary – at least as ordinary as this somewhat foreboding academy could get.

Trying to put that disquieting feeling out of her mind, Zenzi tried to focus herself and return her mind to more ground matters. Despite that, she kept finding herself glancing fervently at the door, mind a muddled mess of distracted thoughts.

 

[cam]

The Yellow Room was aptly named, if not slightly faded with the centuries. It was quite a bit smaller than the main dance hall, clearly used for regular classes. At the far end of the room, a dozen stained glass windows were lit in vaguely floral shapes and colors, but it didn't seem possible that they were illuminated by actual sunlight. The uncanny, disorienting nature of the building was beginning to feel intentional at this point. It was possible the room was very centrally located, and thus its architect hoped that simulating sunlight through windows might lend a more comforting atmosphere, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

Still, it was perhaps a welcome contrast from the overbearing dimness of the hall Zenzi had left behind, and the air here felt lighter. A glance around the room revealed the familiar perimeter barre, another piano in the corner as before, a single long bench that appeared to have all its stuffing worn down from use, a standing coat rack where several students had draped their shawls and sweaters, and little else. Absent were the mirrors typically installed in such rooms for students to check their form, though one might also assume everyone attending was beyond the need for such a thing.

"Zenzi," Sara called out. Mark was with her as well, and appeared to blush slightly as the redhead beckoned for Zenzi to join them. "Looks like you're with our class. Where's Suzy?"