Aplomb

Language has created the word loneliness to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word solitude to express the glory of being alone. I am the Madame. Directress. Ballerina. Pillarist

[thandohno]

There was this image of Madame, this unstoppable woman with an enigmatic past and her specialty, her direction was stripped away and it shocked em. “I-I’ve never heard of this before, well, from you.” Considering Thando was directionless, such news hit em more than ey expected. “A few months huh? Wait, so who knows, do your students or your fami—” Thando had to stop there. Even someone like em knew when it was appropriate too, but the rest of the word still hung on eir tongue. 

[madameballet]

"That's because no one knows but you, Thando." She sighed, the gravity of the news was weighing both of them down. At the mention of the word family, albeit incomplete seemed to take a stab at her heartstrings, and she was stunned silent. She had never thought about not having a family would hurt this much till now

[dizzyxizzers-blog]

Draw My Life || Skyler and Madame

[dizzyxizzers-blog]

Skyler smiled as she listened to the woman talk. She adored hearing people’s stories about the past, or things they did in the past. "But still you got to help name it, and so a part of you went into it. That’s so rad!"

"Well, to answer both questions, I’m not really from anywhere. I’ve never lived more than a couple of years in any state, to be honest. And I’m studying mass communications." Skyler paused in her sketching, considering first the picture and the the lady’s face so she could figure out how to best go next. Her eyes lit up when the woman said she was a ballerina. "Really? That’s incredible! Um, the ballerina part - being the university directress is cool too though. That explains why you’re so graceful! Wow, I bet you have a million amazing stories!" 

[madameballet]

Madame enjoyed how enthusiastic the girl was with her silly little stories about the mischief she and the old man were causing back in the day. Still, the nostalgia the opportunity presented was slowly engulfing her, but the hold of the other comment that passed her lips was anchoring her to the reality she was facing. 

"Oh, why so dearie? Are you like me? Though Hale has been my home for years." She evaluated, having a little introspection of her own. "And Mass Communication does suit you. Very well, I think."  

At the mention of her profession, a shot of pain jolted her thigh, and it was getting immensely difficult to keep a straight face for the girl who was trying her hardest to draw her portrait. She tried to chuckle. "Oh? What do you want to know then?"

[dizzyxizzers-blog]

Draw My Life || Skyler and Madame

[dizzyxizzers-blog]

"Really?" Skyler said, considering the cafe with a new interest. She’d never considered the fact that it had to be new at some point. The fact that the woman across from her had been involved with the naming was pretty cool. "That’s really neat."

"Yeah, I’m pretty new. Not majoring in art though - my parents advised me against it, and since they’re paying for my college I took their advice. I’m just here for school right now, but I hope to stay after I graduate." Skyler explained as she worked. "What’s your craft, if I may ask." 

[madameballet]

"Yes." Madame chuckled. "We eve had a fight about what we were supposed to name the damn thing before we settled on his last name." The fondness of the memory had her breaking her previous pose, but had gained her composure as quick as it went. "Not when you were there to watch us fight it out."

"Where are you from then, dearie? wait, the better question is what are you taking then?" Madame raises an inquisitive brow at the student who was almost done with the rough draft of her wrinkled face." She paused, taking in the question. a slight pang of pain resonated in her chest; her legs involuntarily twitching. Maybe it was psychosomatic, maybe it was a symptom, she didn't knew. All she knew was she should answer. "I'm a ballerina by profession. But I am, actually the directress of the University here." She replied, measured, deciding on giving the long answer.

[madameballet]

Portraits || Jenna and Madame

[jennamarx-blog]

That was a pretty good question, Jenna noted. How she wanted to answer it too but sadly, she couldn’t. There was nary an explanation hidden within the recesses of her brain as to why she was still subconsciously hooked onto a former flame. It never happened to Bill, Stacy, or Ambrose, so why now? Except Jenna knew clearly why. The girl brought to life by graphite in the pages of that moleskin sketchbook wasn’t just a failed relationship. She was Georgie. A name slightly ludicrous, you just know it was too good to be true. At least the young girl did. 

"We were best friends. Or at least, she was my best friend." she replied, her voice surprisingly calm. "I mean, friends aren’t supposed to be lovers right? ‘Cause it gets complicated and stuff. But we were. And the complicated thing’s just come to bite me back in the ass. Excuse my french." She kept her head low as she spilled minute details to the old lady who was, as she repeatedly reminded herself, a complete stranger.

Mothers (and fathers, and brothers, anyone older than you really) always said not to talk to strangers. But there she was. Sitting cross-legged and fighting back a tear that threatened to fall, reminiscing so discreetly about a life she swore to forget to someone she barely knew, barely even looked at actually. But it was comforting. Maybe it’s ‘cause she’s talking to someone so old and receiving no sort of ridicule. She remembered her own grandmother, bless her soul, who loved her regardless of anything. Not to mention that Gran adored Georgie and loved her as her own too.

She wanted to feel that nothing had changed. That everything that happened was just a nightmare. That she wasn’t wiping her eyes in a park as the sun shone high in the sky. That a sketch of her friend wasn’t looking back at her the way it did. 

[madameballet]

"Oh you can love a best frend the way you did, dearie." Madame whispered as she made a move to take her neatly folded handkerchief out of her little purse. "As I can love a total stranger the way I did." She handed the carefully embroidered handkerchief to the girl whose tears were daring to make an appearance in the conversation. Most likely if the wounds that Richard left her were as raw and uncharted as the girl sketching in front of her, she would be hysterical.

She admired the way the girl was striving to stay strong despite the evident fact that she was choking on her own story. It was brave of her to keep up that composure, let alone narrate it to a total stranger. Madame didn't know why, but she felt like she was compelled to share a little bit about Richard. She hasn't talked about him in 30 or so years, not since Amadeu forced the answer right out of her, and ended up closing the Serafim in the middle of the day out of worry for her.

"I met a man named Richard during my time in The Royal Company. I was young and naive. Maybe older than you at that time but I was so innocent to the perils of this world." She paused, a chuckle escaped her lips. "In retrospect, if I were as mature as you at that time, maybe... just maybe my life wouldn't have fallen apart so prematurely. But then again maybe things won't change. The disposition won't change the love, or make it sting any less"

[madameballet]

Portraits || Jenna and Madame

[jennamarx-blog]

Jenna hadn’t known what to think as the older woman sat herself beside her. If she was being completely honest, she’d have preferred to be left alone with her memories. She didn’t like talking about Georgie to anyone in Hale. Not even her brother. It almost always choked her up and is counterintuitive to her main reason for moving to town. The old lady didn’t know that though. If anything, she just knew that Jenna drew people and that Georgie was just a friend (unnamed). How she knew that the redhead drew people though was something curious. And she’d be lying if she thought she wasn’t intrigued albeit suspiciously. 

Scooting a little closer to the side of the bench so that the old lady had more room, Jenna bit her lip, unsure how to answer her question without saying too much. What had she gotten herself into? “Special is a pretty accurate word to describe her. Three years ago I would have told you that it was an understatement. I guess it probably still is but that’s because she’s more than special to me.” Her eyes grew wide as she realized what she’d just said. “I mean- uh, who am I kidding? We used to be together.” That didn’t go well as planned. Subtlety was never her specialty. 

[madameballet]

When her eyes grew comically wide, Madame couldn't help the little chuckle that passes through her lips. Though, it didn't pass her gaze when the flicker of pain danced along her features once again. 

She did not know why, but somehow it made her think about her life before Hale. The weather allowed such melancholy as it had already reminded her of the place she was born it. Strange, she thought. Maybe Hale had this charm when it comes to the lost. They always managed to find a home in its crevices.

Madame wonders about the girl's tragedy. How could something as a portrait of a special person can bring her so much pain. But then her mind wanders to her memories of Richard and suddenly the act wasn't so foreign anymore. She wanted to ask, but then she was worried she might step on a land mind, and certainly she didn't want to upset the girl, so she went to ask a question that she thought was safe enough for her.

"Why are you drawing her, then?" She asked, curious as to what the girl has to offer her as and answer.

[madameballet]

Portraits || Jenna and Madame

[jennamarx-blog]

Jenna only had two places to be when she wanted to trade the brush for a pencil. And with the sun out and about for the first time in a couple of days, she chose sitting on her spot at Harrelson Park over coffee at the Serafim. She liked to think she’d had too much caffeine the past week anyways, a bit of nature and fresh air was a good change. Finding the solitary bench in which no one seemed to take an interest in, she plopped herself on one side, crossed her legs, and took a good look at the muse around her.

Children, parents, elderly couples, dogs, etc. There were countless sources of inspiration but none that fit right. The girl found herself just staring at everything else until she’d begun to get stares herself. That wasn’t good. She’d probably squinted at the kids too many times again. The parents must think she contemplated a kidnapping. Twirling the graphite stick in her fingers, she resorted to winging it and just drawing her way out of probable false accusations. Who knows, maybe letting her hand run free would create something cool.

It was before she added shading to the sketch when she thought she heard a question directed towards her. Her head shot up at once to meet the old lady smiling at her. She looked around to see if the woman was in fact talking to her before staring down at the portrait she absent-mindedly sketched. Jenna surprised herself as she took into account who exactly it was she had drawn and a small tinge of pain shot back like a bullet. “Oh, uhm, a friend. Just a friend.” 

[madameballet]

The answer of the young girl was like a melancholic lullaby that was playing with the wind. It was almost nostalgic, somehow. How the slight rise in octave higher; or the creases in her smile wasn't stretched like if it was a genuine one. In a way, she was like staring at her own portrait.

It was kind of silly for her to think that way. But she cant really blame her old soul for not believing the girl's subtle lie. Madame had an inkling as to what was really their connection, and it made her interested on the girl even more.

"Tell me about her, then? She seems special. Mind if I take a seat? These old rigid bones aren't strong as  they were before." Madame said, a sad small fleeting on her face.

[madameballet]

Portraits || Jenna and Madame

She had taken to heart what the doctors had said the last time she was at the doctor's and had promised herself not to spiral down into the depths of depression just because the life she knew was once again slowly being pulled away from her. She wanted to stay strong.

Madame Estera found herself strolling along the carefully cut grass of Harrelson Park. She was this close to going barefoot because she wanted to feel the way the grass would tickle the soles of her foot but opted for sandals instead. She knew that if a student of the university saw her prance around the park in barefoot, the whole school would be in chaos.

The breeze was fresh enough for it to remind her of Poland, with so little memory she has. Her stroll seems to take an interesting turn when her gaze was caught by the subtle yet vibrant red of a girl drawing at the park, her expression sullen, yet contented. Madame had seen this girl a few times before, right in that very spot where she's drawing right now. She had a glimpse of what the girl was drawing a couple of times in the past, and had found that she was drawing portraits, albeit she was not near enough to determine any refined features.

A smile graces her wrinkled lips. "Who are you drawing this time, dearie?" She says on a whim.

[redeemcalebeduff-deactivated201]

Two is Coffee II Caleb and Madame

Just like every morning, Caleb was out the door by 8:00 am and off to the cafe. He kicked every pebble he saw on his stroll, dreaming of his regular coffee and caffeine fix. It brought a small grin to his face, and his kicks became more like dribbles. Soon enough he was greeted by the warm smell of coffee being made, and the sound of muffled yawning.

Before he even reached the counter, he was casually saying his order aloud, “Black coffee, lots of cream, and no sugar. Thanks.” Caleb placed a five dollar bill on the counter, and proceeded to the table near the front window. Once seated and settled, he took out his book and waited for his coffee to be made.After nearly three pages of deep words and depressing subject matter, Caleb felt the presence of another person next to his. He slowly turned his head, only to discover his assumptions were correct. 

"Did you need anything?" Caleb asked, hoping he didn’t sound rude. The question was genuine.He gestured to the chair across from him, "Did you want to have a seat?" 

[madameballet]

Madame has not had very good evening the night before. She had one of her spells that evening and she was in so much pain, she couldn't even lull herself to sleep, let alone do anything else to keep her mind off from the pain. She was thankful in the morning that she could walk. But a ballerina sporting a limp wasn't necessary a big confidence boost for anyone, especially for her.

So that particular morning, she dressed in a particularly long dress and had her favorite dress coat on. If anyone would ask her what is wrong, she would just brush it as something relative of muscle pain. She would look good doing it. No one should be able to figure out that she was still in pain, albeit dulling. 

Madame was thankful that it was one of her days of, something that her assistant director pushed her into taking, or else she would come to the university with a limp, and that was something her ego wasn't prepared to take yet. Instead, she walked to the cafe which she calls her other home and plans to stay there for the better part of the day. Only when she enters the establishment, she finds that her seat had already been occupied.

"Excuse me, young man. You're in my spot." She commented, amused.

[thandohno]

Parkinson’s wasn’t exactly your everyday conversation point, and it quietened Thando. Ey felt emself swell up, knowing what was next. It was awful to think about really. “Not really,” Thando replied, as casually as they could with their hoarse voice. “Uh, how long has it been then?” 

[madameballet]

"It's what the bottle is for, Thando. These are my medication." Madame said, gripping the small bottle between her ailing fingers. "It wasnt that too long when I got diagnosed, actually. A few months maybe?" She felt herself choking up. Ey was the first person she was going to say this to, and all the fear and the anger and the anxiety that was slowly building up was daring to make an appearance in the conversation in whatever shape or form it manages. Yet, she steels herself for her next sentence. "The doctors have said that I wouldn't be able to dance anymore."

[dizzyxizzers-blog]

Draw My Life || Skyler and Madame

[dizzyxizzers-blog]

"I love them." Skyler said as she worked, "They mean you have expierence, and they always make people look so interesting."

She glanced back up at the lady, smiling a little when she saw the expression she had made. She looked like she’d had expirence modeling before.

"Amadeu? As in, Mr. Serafim?" Skyly asked to clarify. "I don’t usually come in here, plus I’m pretty new. And yeah, art is my past time - I wish I could make a career out of it, ya know, but not in this economy. I’m just lucky to be able to pay for university."

[madameballet]

"Charming, aren't you? You are by far the first person I met who is actually excited about getting wrinkles. Most people would shudder at the thought." She remarked, mesmerized by how graceful she was moving her pencil.

"Yes, the old cook and I have been friends for a long time. I watched him build this cafe. Even helped him name it." Madame chuckled at the memory. Just then, the old Serafim passed by the pair. When he saw the pair by his spot, he just chuckled at his old friend and went back to his business. 

"Oh? You're new here? And you major in art? Ah, I now see why. What brings you here? And I do get what you mean dearie. I struggled with my craft too before my career took of." She smiled sadly.

[dizzyxizzers-blog]

Draw My Life || Skyler and Madame

[dizzyxizzers-blog]

"Thank you so much!" Skyler exclaimed in excitement. She sat across from the woman, and flipped to a blank page in her notebook. "You give off an air of dignity and grace." she explained, sketching the general shape of her face, "Plus you’re lovely."

Skyler looked up at her, and studied her face for a moment. Older people were some of her favorite people too draw - their faces held so much character. You could tell if they smiled a lot, or if they frowned a lot. Whether they spent a lot of time outside, or whether they mostly stayed inside. Skyler couldn’t wait to be old, and have her face spell out stories in the wrinkles.

"Who were you supposed to meet?" she asked, curiously. 

[madameballet]

Madame watched her fingers glide around the pad and she immediately thought about that ballet production she put together before she left The Royal Company. When she heard the girl's explanation, she scoffed. Maybe she was just mistaking that for her posture mandated by her profession? Or was it the choice of her clothing that day?

"Dearie, wrinkles aren't exactly lovely with your generation." She joked.

When she noticed that the girl was so concentrated with what she was doing, Madame froze her face in an angle that she knew was interesting, with her experience in theatrical dance, an angle that she could watch her create something, and at the same time still face her. It would certainly be rude not to.

"Oh, just Amadeu. This is our spot. It's funny. When either one of us sits here, they know it's him and I meeting." She chuckled, fond at the memory. "How about you? Is this your past time? I don't usually see you here at the cafe." 

[thandohno]

Even if ey had forgotten most of the medical-related aspects of eir biochemistry course at university, the label was still recognisable. They wanted to tickets, but still, curiosity did come first. “That would be good, Madame,” Thando replied, eir eyes still on the bottle. “I’m sure it’ll be a lovely night.” Placing the bottle down, ey added. “Still curious, though.”

[madameballet]

"Thando, dearie. Are you familiar with Parkinson's Disease?" She asked, rather measured. It was as if she was calculating her every word, ready to retract and defend any minute. She couldn't get herself to look at em, regardless.

[jtheograham-blog]

I think I’m having my neglected child non-existent parent memories withdraws, don’t mind me.

[madameballet]

"Dearie. All the more that we should definitely do something. Come on. What do you want to do today?"

[vanity-em-deactivated20140910]

"Thursdays are such a drag, man."

[madameballet]

"You should try Mondays at the University."

[august-turner]

“You know… I don’t usually like readin’ but this book is actually pretty good.” 

[august-turner]

[madameballet]

"I told you so." She replied smugly.

[thandohno]

"I won’t judge Madame," Thando replied coolly while ey rotated the bottle, as if to showcase it, just to examine it a little. Ey meant no harm, but it was fun to tease the supposedly wiser woman. 

"Doesn’t look like MDMA, so I think you’re good. Although scratch the idea of getting tickets, I’m now curious about this." 

[madameballet]

She couldn't help the color that was slowly draining her face. Benztropine was printed clear as day on the bottle as ey twirled it around eris fingers. "Thando, dearie. You will. I'm sure of it." She muttered silently, having watched her well kept secret foiled all because she misplaced her pills.

[geezlouise-mary]

Lack of parental guidance and authority through out adolescence?

[madameballet]

Madame paused, examining the girl in front of her who was quick to change her aura. "Is that what your really think?"