audette rousseau
A soft sigh left the young ballerina's lips as she settled upon the bench of her studio's changing rooms. The girl reached down to tug gently at the ribbons that firmly kept her point shoes tied around her ankles. Her fingers were altogether gentle as she pulled her slender feet from those scuffed pink shoes. She frowned ever so slightly as she reached down, her fingers gingerly massaging her feet. They were particularly sore today, their dance routines in the wake of the Nutcracker this past Christmas somehow becoming more rigorous as the battle for Prima Ballerina ever increased. Despite the months that had passed, the French girl had made decidedly few friends within her company beyond those that politely offered the occasional 'how are you' and 'good job today' sort of greetings. Audette glanced up as several of her coworker's walked by, the girl gifting them a small encouraging simper. Although she knew moving a new place was...hard, the ballerina had never anticipated how difficult it was to be alone within a new country. It was a sort of loneliness she hadn't been prepared for and yet, she made every effort to remain true to her aspirations - to stay busy, keep her eyes on her goal and dance with the entirety of her soul.
It was sometime later that Audette shed her leotard in favor of her street clothes. Her ballet shoes switched in favor of a pair of crisp white tennis shoes. Her things where shoved neatly within a pale pink duffle bag, the back strap tossed over her shoulder as Audette lugged her outfit off the bench. With a small wave goodbye to her remaining coworkers and a soft hum upon her lips, the French woman headed towards the back door of the dance studio, the girl entirely looking forward to returning, uneventfully, to her home where she might soak her tired feet in an Epson salt bath...perhaps even with a warm cup of tea. How utterly delightful. It was with such dreams of a warm beverage that Audette tossed open the side door, stepping out into the alleyway that ran alongside the luxurious dance studio. The very last thing she anticipated was to see a man standing directly in front of her, or rather, a pair of men, one so distinctly fae. It took a moment before Audette registered the metallic gleam of a gun and for an awful, precarious moment the French fairy stared in the same sort of surprise as the men so clearly holding up the unfortunate stranger. She was hardly prepared for the way one of them quickly snapped out of that shock to reach out for the girl, clearly not wishing her to run and yet Audette was far too astonished to make any real attempt to escape. "