Susannah Alexandra Hattington-Hallmeyer (vintage_fraud) wrote in halcyon_houses, @ 2008-08-04 15:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | sasha |
Week Fifteen: Monday
Who: Sasha and anyone who dares
When: Monday morning (3 AM!)
Where: Zephir common room
What: Swans, brownies, and insomnia
Twas 2 A.M. Monday, when all through Z-House’s within,
Not a creature was stirring, ‘cept some vamps and one djin.
Nutty brownies were nuked in the oven with care,
In hopes of gentling insomnia with sugary fare.
Most Halcyon students were nestled all snug in the beds,
May migraines and cowlicks plague their damn lucky heads!
Sasha in her nightdress, with a plate in her lap,
Perched on the common room couch, feeling chiefly like cr—
Ri-ight.
"These came out way more special than planned.” Sasha considered the half-eaten brownie in her hold with bleak suspicion. Could rhyming be an allergic reaction to walnuts and chewy deliciousness? “Maybe I could get shots—or get shot. Or start heavy drinking every Sunday night. Or finally find a soporific that lasts longer than a lozenge.
The dog didn’t answer because the dog was…sleeping. Innocent and peaceful, Dreizen had folded neatly besides the couch. Worry about his mistress’ welfare didn’t stretch to cover bouts of insomnia and incoherency.
"...bitch." Dizzy didn’t stir.
Sighing with martyr like resignation, Sasha finished her brownie and reached for the remote. It was time to medicate the monster. Unfortunately, her insomnia wasn’t a weakling; drugs and tea, no matter how potent, wouldn’t lull it. The only thing to do was wait and whittle the time away peacefully. Distraction was key. Before that’d translate into a set of drills (that blastedinquartata step) or a heavy bag session (except—ouch—still needed new gloves). The problem with “before”, however, was that it included the luxury of recuperating from an exhausting night by sleeping through the day. Her schedule at Halcyon didn’t offer such indulgence. The diversion had to be mental.
Which is exactly why Sasha had ABT’s Swan Lake loaded into the player.
Gillian Murphy wasn’t Sasha’s favorite dancer but she was one of the best “swan”. A full-service Odette/Odile combination was rare, after all. Too many ballerinas turned Odette into a flouncing ingénue and Odile into a giddy tramp. Sasha’s opinion of such cheap transformation could scour the paint off of an oil tanker. One hapless balletomane matron in Paris learned this firsthand after making a silly, thoughtless comment about an unfortunate performance. Sasha, twelve years old and furious to see her fairy tale turned into pretty schlock, had lashed out mercilessly. At the end of the intermission the woman didn’t go back into the theatre; shaking and pale, she’d been driven home by her befuddled son-in-law. (Unfortunately, Sasha didn’t see the rest of the condemned show either; she was unceremoniously sent back to the hotel as punishment for lack of control.)
Sasha generally wasn’t a generous balletomane when it came to praise, especially if she had an attachment to the story of the piece. And Swan Lake had always been…special. Love, innocence, evil, death, redemption—it was all there, in beautifully nuanced black and white. At the same time, it was a challenge of perspective, daring its audience to think past the obvious. If the audience cared to look, that is.
Josiah had always urged her to avoid the easy outlook, to consider the “missing” perspective: Odile’s guilt, Odette’s power, Siegfried’s true caliber. Sympathy for the devil may grant deeper clarity for the pilgrim, the alchemist said the last time they watched it together. Never look up or look down to villainy: look through. And she’d listened, and she’s believed.
Like Odile must’ve believed when von Rothbart promised her a prince’s love? Sasha rubbed a hand across dry eyes. It was the sleeplessness, of course, that made them sting. Or maybe some remnant speck of mascara. Restless, she scraped a walnut off a brownie.
On screen, the prince ran into the woods to escape out of the pan. "Run, run as fast as you can; they can't catch you at Halcyon, Gingerbread Man..."