mirrorball

magdalena galanis | prima ballerina

[magdagalanis]

SPOTTED: MAGDALENA HELENE GALANIS in new york city! heard the THIRTY TWO YEAR OLD work as a/an PROFESSIONAL BALLERINA. word on the streets is that they can be CHARMING & TENACIOUS, but they can also be OBSESSIVE & EMOTIONAL

ORIGINS & FAMILY:

Name: Magdalena Helene Galanis

Nickname: Magda, Mags, Lena, Magdalenka

Birthday: January 31, 1994

Current Residence: New York, New York

Notable Family Members: Dimitrious Galanis ( father ); Marta Kozak ( mother ); Christos Galanis ( older brother ); Victor Galanis ( older brother ); Angelo Galanis ( older brother, deceased ); Aurora Galanis ( pet, fluffy white cat ) 

PHYSICAL:

Faceclaim: Olivia Cooke

Height: 5’4

Hair Color: dark red 

Eye Color: brown 

Jewelry? Tattoos? Piercings?: both ears pierced, various rings, an old men’s watch she found in her father’s desk, one tiny hidden tattoo

Unique Mannerisms/Physical Habits: twisting her rings, humming under her breath, talking with her hands, 

PERSONALITY:

Occupation: Professional Ballerina 

Languages Spoken: English, Greek, Polish, French

Positive Traits: Outgoing, Charming, Tenacious, Disciplined, Empathetic 

Negative Traits: Obsessive, Emotional, Self-sacrificing, Pretentious, Ambitious 

Likes: the hour just before sunrise, iced coffee, glitter gel pens, the first row of the balcony, live music, early 2000s chick flicks 

Dislikes: driving, birds kept as pets, lazy choreographers, being ignored, the undeniable feeling that everything you love is slipping out of reach

Character Inspo: amy march ( little women ); coronabeth tridentarius ( the locked tomb ); rapunzel ( tangled ); jester lavorre ( the mighty nein ); dani clayton ( the haunting of bly manor ) 

Aesthetics: falling asleep to the sounds of the city; this house is not haunted - you are; the inherent masochism of ballet; physical intimacy like a drug, the prima always needs her audience; that last breath before stepping out on stage; a face crafted for tragedy; burning out still burns bright 

HISTORY:

Magda grows up in New York, idolizing her older brothers amidst the petty criminal syndicate of their family. The house is full of cold and stubborn men between her father and various uncles and cousins, so Magda tries her best to bring warmth and sunshine where she can. A natural performer, she showed an early talent for dance, and through her mother’s manipulation ( and a generous scholarship from the school ) Dimitrious begrudgingly allows her to train in ballet under the condition that the family will always come first. 

Her bright and shiny demeanor makes Magda ill-suited for the kind of thieving her brothers were tasked with at a young age, but she’s more than happy to play distraction. Big brown eyes and an exceptionally emotive face - who could ignore the lost little girl in the park? Or the girl so full of sunshine raising money for a charity at the front door while her brother’s go after the safe from the back.

Victor, Angelo, and Christos were ambitious, a perfect team and Magda believed in them wholeheartedly when they whispered of wanting more, of wanting better. She does her best to remind them that there is more to Family than petty crimes and dogged ambition - one has to remember to take time to laugh and to love. 

Tragedy strikes when she’s eleven - Angelo lost in a robbery gone wrong, Christos fled to the Marines, and Victor is drawn deeper into the family business. She’s not immune to the stubbornness deep in the Galanis line, and throws herself into her training with even more discipline. Years spent as caretaker, as one who strove to make the house actually a home and not just headquarters to plan the next small time heist - maybe she has some of the same ambition as Angelo, and maybe it was nice to have something that was just hers. 

By age 15 Magda joined the Ballet as an apprentice, rising quickly through the ranks. Christos returns to them, not entirely whole, but where she can see him. Promoted to principal at 21, Magda crafts a life and career that’s entirely hers, slowly extricating herself from the shadier elements of the family until her loyalty lies solely with her brothers. The mass arrests and imprisonment of her father and uncles comes as a shock, but maybe because there’s still a part of her that’s a frightened little girl, utterly convinced of her father’s invincibility. Christos and Victor are safe, and that’s all that matters. 

HEADCANNONS:

Very bright and expressive, it's one of the things that makes her such a captivating performer. Magda seems to wear every emotion on her face, in her eyes. And that’s true, to an extent, but she was forced to learn how to use this to her advantage at a young age.

Her mother is Polish Catholic, and as far as her mother is concerned, so is Magda. Marta left the city when her daughter was 11 ( around the time Angelo died ) and has lived on Long Island since. 

 Moved out of her father’s house as soon as she could, the moment she made it on her own. Currently lives in a gorgeous pre-war one bedroom with her cat - her living space can be described as very feminine and maximalist, as full of personality and warmth as she can make it. 

Her drink of choice is champagne, she loves the effervescence of the bubbles on her tongue - it’s just like the floaty feeling at the end of a performance.  

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

Friends: Magda is so outgoing and friendly please give her all the friends from any different group 

Lovers: of any affiliation or gender; Magda thrives on affection, intimacy, and attention. 

( i promise i will come up with more specific wcs asap )

[victorxgalanis]

Vic's place with Magda Galanis @magdagalanis

Time with his sister had been an unfortunate casualty of him processing the bombshell that Christos had dropped on his life. The news serving to make him a fool and the life he'd led for two decades seem even more pointless. When it came to Magda though perhaps the only saving grace was her busy schedule, it not entirely unusual for there to be gaps in seeing each other. "Glad you could make it." Was the greeting he gave as he opened the door, stepping aside to let her in before he moved through to the kitchen. For all the nonchalance in his delivery, he was glad to see her. Or relieved, maybe, that not all of his familial relationships had ended up in tatters. "Pick your poison, you know where it all is." Hand waved towards the fridge and drinks cabinet, expecting her to help herself. "Thought I might make dolma." The suggestion was a neutral one, his attempt at starting a conversation that didn't have anything to do with either of their brothers.

[magdagalanis]

“Always,” she says, and it’s almost true. Magda will do anything for her brothers, always has and always will. This time is different and she knows it as she walks into Vic’s apartment, sensing the distance between her brothers with the weight of Christos’s confession. She nods and heads to the fridge, finding a bottle of white that she opens without asking. Victor’s place is just like him, but every time she visits the deep worry for her brother increases. Magda pours herself a glass of wine and sits on his couch.

“Dolma, just like when we were kids, I’d love to see it.” She’d being a bit cruel, and takes a sip of her wine as she drops down onto his couch. “I brought pierogis, they just need to pan fry - let me know when you’re done cooking.” She nods at the bag set on the counter. “So what’s up? I know you Vic, you didn’t just invite me over to hang out”

[henri-brooks]

Location: After one of Magda's performances Starter for @magdagalanis

"You know if you take any longer next time I might grow a full beard." Henri flicked away his cigarette before pushing off the wall he had been leaning against. The theater had emptied out a while ago but he had promised Magda he'd wait to take her to drinks and a late dinner. "You were great tonight. Better than last week I think." Henri wasn't exactly a great fan of ballet but he had tried to take an interest in Magda's profession. He prided himself on being a good friend and he knew that if he needed his friends to show up for him they would. "You hungry? I've got a car waiting unless I can convince you to finally take the subway with me." He reached out his hand for her bag and smiled. "Let's get out of here, ballerina."

[magdagalanis]

“You’re so melodramatic, please,” Magda smirks, “and you’d look spectacular with a beard, so who’s to say I’m not doing to world a favor by taking the normal amount of time it takes to get my fucking costume and everything off.” She rolls her eyes playfully and hands him her bag with relish. “Right? Because this week I didn’t have a partner who fucking dropped me during the climax of the fucking pas.” These guest artists need to be vetted, and she will absolutely be bringing this up with the artistic director. Just because he’s some Russian prodigy doesn’t mean he can partner, often times it’s more nepotism than anything.

“Henri," and she pronounces his name in the very french way, "how rude of you to think I was bad last week, dinner is absolutely on you to make up for this.” Magda looks at her phone, then back up. “Why waste the car, I love a metro. Where are we going?”

[noxmourners]

LOCATION: outside where ever magda rehearses TAG: @magdagalanis

August slowly paced the sidewalk as she waited, head craned down towards her phone as she shot off another text in an idle conversation with someone. She'd promised Magda a low-key girls night, which in this case meant meeting her after a rehearsal and taking her to dinner somewhere of her choosing, even if that was Thai takeout and August's couch at the end of it all. Upon hearing the doors open, she dropped the phone into her jacket pocket and turned, spotting Christos's little sister as she exited in a gaggle of other dancers.

"Do you ever look tired or out of sorts, you fuckin' fairy princess?" she teased as she moved closer, then looped her arms around the younger woman and pulled her into a brief, tight hug. She'd bullied Christos into being her friend over the course of months spent together at the VA hospital, but bonding with his younger sister had come as naturally as breathing. "Where do you wanna go? I'll get us a car."

[magdagalanis]

It’s been a long day in the very best of ways, exhaustion sinks into her bones but does not weigh her down. Magda leaves the studio at her leisure, waving at this dancer and that before recognizing August loitering on the sidewalk and running into the arms of her friend. “Oh all the time, just never where anyone can see me!” She returns the hug with a slight smirk, then steps back, pulling various pins from her hair and shoving them into the side pocket of her bag.

“There’s this new little bistro like four blocks away that I’ve heard great things about, and also the chef might have a thing for me after meeting one singular time at the gala last month. So that could be fun and possibly have some extra treats and what not. But if you aren’t feeling like staying out we totally don’t have to!” Magda wants to go out, wants to stay out; she’s hiding behind niceties and whatever, but there’s an earnestness in her wide and wild eyes that longs for something more, something exciting.

[nanxschaefer]

"Truly!" Nan agreed as she was appreciative of the validation that Magda gave her. Hearing that ballerinas didn't really eat a lot of pastries made her frown a bit. "You totally deserve it though! Fuck that." She simply said as she felt like being a woman was hard enough. There was a large sense of relief when the chocolate croissant was finally in her possession. Sliding in across from Magda, she took a bite of the warm croissant and let out a small hum, finally focusing back on Magda. "Oh great! Aw, that is so exciting that you get to be in your favorite ballet!" Nan felt like that must be so special for her friend, because she figured if she was into performing like that if she got to be in her favorite thing it would be like a dream come true. Her brows rose and eyes widened at this information. "Really? No I didn't know that! I think the only ballet that I remember seeing is The Nutcracker. I loved it so much, especially the big mice costumes. I didn't even realize people died in ballets!" Maybe that was dumb of Nan to say, but she really wasn't extremely familiar with ballets, but it was cool to learn them from a prima ballerina. She laughed softly at the comment, "Do you like teaching too? Or not as much as performing?" Nan was curious since she knew for some people they took more enjoyment from teaching than doing it. She let out a small sigh of her own at the comment. "Oh yeah, I simply using this moment to fuel myself before I go back in. Do you realize how much hot gossip I get from making bouquets?"

[magdagalanis]

“My favorite classical ballet,” Magda starts, then stops herself before she gets too pedantic or too deep in the lore that really only she cares about. Nan is so lovely and so genuinely happy for her, Magda can’t help but grin back at her. “Yeah, no like most major classical ballets kill their lead - Giselle, Swan Lake, La Bayadère, obviously Romeo and Juliet, truly I could keep going. And I know it’s all a product of its time, or whatever, and there is something to be said about haunting the narrative, but sometimes you want a happy ending, you know?” She takes a breath, realizing she’s been ranting a bit and then collapses back into her seat. “Ok but just say the word, babe, and I’ve got seats for you, and whomever you’d like to bring!” The coffee is spectacular, and Magda adds this shop to her running list of favorite places. “Teaching is…fine. I’m like, not particularly good with children? But they seem to like me? I don’t know if they even count as children - the teens think I’m cool? I’ll take it.” She brushes away this conversation, it brings up futures she does not want to consider yet. “Oh I can only imagine - please I’m starved for some good gossip, share with your dearest Magdalena.”

[christosgalanis]

"I'm not being ominous." Christos countered, brushing past his younger sister and into the vast upper west side apartment. He was still rattled from his conversation with Victor, reeling from the fallout, but none of it was evident on his otherwise neutral expression -- one that he'd carried most of his life, though typically his siblings were able to read between the lines with what expressions didn't possess, at least somewhat. They had that sort of bond.

He didn't bother veering much farther than the foyer, assuming this conversation wouldn't go much better than the last. "And we do need to talk. There's some information coming out -- I don't know how, I don't know when -- and I needed you to hear it from me before you heard from anyone else." It was no use explaining it all in detail -- the text he received, the flashdrive -- none of that would matter at the end of this. A breath, and he forced himself to meet Magda's gaze. "I'm sorry I gotta fuck up your day off with this, but -- it's about what happened to Angelo." A pause. "It was a set up by our uncles. I found out shortly after it happened, and -- and I didn't say anything. I thought I was protecting you guys." He couldn't help the way he scoffed at his own words, looking away then. "I just came from Vic's. He ain't talking to me any time soon. I'm guessing you're ready to follow suit."

[magdagalanis]

She knows him so innately in the way she’s able to sense the whereabouts of everyone she shares a stage with - but even more so. It’s not even a thought to turn as he passes her and follow, Christos lingers in the foyer, but Magda urges him forward with a gentle hand on his elbow until they are at her kitchen island and she finds her wine glass to steady her nerves. Something is terribly wrong. She knows it by the set of his jaw - neutral to any casual observer, but Magda spent her childhood marking the various silent ways the Galanis men exhibit anger, fear, resentment, sorrow - any number of emotions they dare not name. She takes a sip of her wine, then squares herself, as if stepping on stage, as if setting off to battle. 

Information and other bullshit - she’s ready to brush it all off with her easy smile until he says Angelo. Magda freezes, a preternatural stillness drawn from training or fear or whatever bone deep part of her still held that sorrow. Angelo. Angelo. 

Magdalena’s spent more of her life without him than she ever did with. When you’re eleven years old you still believe in magic, you still believe in the wonder and enchantment of the world - no matter how wicked and cruel your father is. The three of them - Victor and Angelo and Christos; Christos and Angelo and Victor - are herculean in her eyes. God how she longed to be one of them, eavesdropping at the kitchen door whilst they sat amongst the men discussing all things important until some aunt or another would fuss at her to help with dishes. Back then they were invincible.

Grief is a funny thing, it’s almost a goddamn cliché. Here one day then gone the next. When you’re eleven you think the whole world should halt at the loss of someone so important. But it doesn’t. Everyone seems to move on, go about their day as if everything hasn’t been irrevocably shattered. Her remaining brothers cope in their own way, and maybe they were given the tools to reckon with such a loss that she wasn’t. But this isn’t the kind of family that tolerates emotion and weakness - so Magda poured her heart out on the stage and buried her grief all alone. 

“What?” It’s the barest whisper, tears pooling in the corner of those wild and wide eyes. “Why would they do that? What - oh god, Chris—“ she sets the glass down and reaches out, hand clasping around his wrist. “You carried this all alone, for so long didn’t you?” 

Grief is fickle, it comes when you least expect it - Angelo always finds her just as the rain stops, tentatively lowering an umbrella - you’re not made of sugar, you won’t melt. A thunder clap outside the window, but the snow falls on and on. Magda grabs Christos’s hand and pulls him to her couch. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, “that you felt like you had to carry that burden all alone for so long. We were all just kids, all of us - not just me. And I’m not going to stop talking to you because of a choice you made like 20 years ago that you thought was for the best.”

[magdagalanis]

where: magda's apartment, upper west side who: magda & @christosgalanis

She loves her brothers - truly, genuinely more than anything in the world. But Christos and his cryptic fucking texts about needing to talk and swinging by were primed to ruin her one and only evening off this week. Magda is well versed in the clinical chill her brother uses to mask his emotions, so this could be anything from a minor annoyance to a life changing revelation. Best not to borrow trouble is sooner said than done, but wine always helps. She can’t shake this sinking feeling, like those last few moment cresting over the top of a roller coaster before the drop. Things have been good lately, too good, but she still wakes up terrified to lose it all. Anxiety simmers into frustration, and by the time her brother is at her door the youngest Galanis is quite irritated. “You know this is my only night off for like a week and a half, right? Maybe cool it with the ominous we need to talk.”  

[nanxschaefer]

character: Magdalena Galanis @magdagalanis

location: Mason Lumiere Bakery

"Oh my god Magda, I think I need a chocolate croissant ASAP or I will implode." She exclaimed as she looked over the display case with her friend. "Why do I feel like ballerinas totally should eat like so many French pastries because ballet was from France, right?" Nan had no actually reasoning for this, but she felt like it sounded right. It was so cool to hang out with a real life ballerina and be friends with her was even cooler. "How is the show going, by the way?!"

[magdagalanis]

"Death by lack of chocolate, truly horrid." Magda grins, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Your logic is totally sound, however, diets and bullshit,” she hand waves this, not wanting to spoil a perfectly pleasant afternoon. Nor her enjoyment of the apple turnover she’s got her eye on. They order and collect their pasties, along with the double americano necessary to fuel Magda’s afternoon, then find a seat along the windows. “Oh it’s wonderful,” she’s beaming, suddenly even brighter as she talks about what she loves, “Sleeping Beauty is my favorite ballet, like seriously. And not just because it actually has a happy ending - side note, do you realize how many ballets hinge upon the death of the lead? Way too many.” She shakes her head then takes a sip. “Anyway - I’m the picture of happiness, which the director promptly took advantage of and has guilted me into teaching this afternoon.” The sigh is a bit melodramatic, but whatever, she’s most at home on the stage. “Genuinely surprised you were able to sneak away for a sweet treat given how close it is to Valentines, isn’t this like your super crazy busy time?” 

[fonteyn]

BALLET MOMENTS THAT MAKE ME GO FERAL: Manon (footage from 2004)

Carlos Acosta as Des Grieux. Tamara Rojo as Manon

Originally premiered in 1974. Choreography by Sir Kenneth Macmillan.

[margotrobie]

OLIVIA COOKE Via Instagram