audette rousseau

Butterflies fluttered within the French ballerina's stomach the entirety of the night, her anxiousness an ever-present companion over the last week of rehearsals just in preparation for her debut. Her hair and makeup had been done to utter perfection - her eyelids covered in light blue sparkles, her cheeks painted with pale pink blush, her cheekbones contoured into a definite structure and her eyes lined in a deep, flourished black. Her hair was tightly pulled back and pinned into place in a bun, the very kind her profession was so known for. A soft breath left her lips as Audette rubbed the souls of her pointe shoes into the chalk, the woman double-checking her laces as the music overhead pittered off, signaling for her moment. How hard she had worked for this moment, to even earn a solo in this production, now she just had to prove she was more than capable of performing. She inhaled, the clove color of her irises met the figure of her King across the stage. She rose up to the pointe of her toes, stepping out of those draped sides in time with her partner as the bright lights of the stage fell upon them, accompanied with small flakes of white falsified snow.

Audette was nothing but giggling grins the moment she stepped off the stage, her once professional ballerina face dissipating into something far more gleeful. She remained lingering nearby, however, as was the custom for the ballerinas who had finished their set as she awaited the production's end. The ballerina had hardly forgotten of those tickets she'd given out, her gaze cast out into the crowd several times and yet, behind the curtain, it was all but impossible to get a good glimpse of the faces so silhouetted by the bright lights of the stage. How utterly exciting it was, when the production finally ended, the complete cast filing out onto the stage to receive the standing ovation from the audience as they bowed in a carefully choreographed line. The principal dancers stepped out, leaving the rest of them with even louder cheers before, with grins galore, her ballet troupe left the stage. Oh! How she loved the very air that surrounded her companions after the completion of a well-rehearsed and rather flawless show. There had been some mistakes, sure, but it was unlikely the crowd would have recognized those missteps that Audette herself had seen practiced over and over again. She listened astutely as their director gathered them together, offering them words of congratulations before reminding the troupe as a whole that tomorrow was yet another performance - one in which they would be expected to perform just as well.

Even their director's reminder, Audette found herself aglow with glee. She pulled herself from the flowy tutu around her waist, her tights exchanged for a pair of leggings, her leotard ditched for an oversized sweater before her bag was tossed over her shoulder and the French ballerina made her way towards the side exit. Despite her tenure at the Sacrosanct Ballet, Audette still found herself floundering to find her ground with her co-workers. Sure, she knew them on a first-name basis, many greeting the girl was smiles and pleasantries but the cliches within the ballet world were...particularly tough and Audette had yet to pay her dues, her quick chance at becoming a soloist only further painting a target upon her back for those that vied for the coveted role of Principal. It left her...rather friendless. That is, without the same intimacy some of the girls who had been there for ever had with one another. It hardly got her too down, however, the girl still holding a pep in her step as she lightly stepped out of Swan Hall. Her clove colored eyes danced through the darkness of the alleyway, that lesson her Hunter savior had instilled in her made her ever wary of those less populated streets of Sacrosanct within those darkened hours. She had only just begun to turn towards the major thoroughfare when a velvety baritone voice cut through the darkness - a voice she knew well.

A warm simper alit her fair features as she pivoted in place, her very movement almost reminiscent of the pirouette she had performed on stage but half an hour prior. "Ah! Bonne Nuit, Monsieur Hunter." She commented, her French lit altogether noticeable as her gaze lingered upon the shadow draped Adrien. "I hope you enjoyed it?" Audette inquired, her head leaning slightly to the side as she looked up at him with those deep clove colored irises. It was that almost innocent comment that she glowed that prompted a burst of warm laughter upon her lips, the woman quite literally waving away the man's contemplative glance. "It is a...ah...trick of the light." She commented brightly, her head shaking ever so slightly, "I swear. I have been practicing, as you said." Audette added, though the young woman purposefully left out just how well her efforts were progressing. At the very least, however, she had managed to keep those rampant abilities of light in check when her focus was so steadfast upon both her anxiety and her craft. Complete mastery in the way that he had so clearly achieved was still yet out of her reach but...it was far better then she had before.