Swan Lake (Open)

Nilla was aimlessly wandering, restless and knowing no activity was just as bad for her leg as too much. She missed home, not much, mind you, but enough that she was starting to wish for even five minutes with her parents. That is, until she stumbled upon what was essentially a studio for any sort of artistic pursuit. Excited beyond belief, she tripped over her leg in her haste to make use of the room. Until she realized she couldn't use her iPod even if she had it. Her sadness was short-lived, however, as her memory conjured up the familiar strains of Tchiakovsky and her body moved instinctively to the rhythm of the music.

Swan Lake. She'd performed in a short ballet with her school when she was younger. Shortly before the Accident. It had been her favorite piece then, and she'd been adamant about relearning the whole thing after the amputation. Now it was one of her favorite escapes, and it helped her get used to the prosthetic. The leg felt almost like an extension of herself when she danced this dance. It felt like her leg. Her eyes drifted closed as she moved and she fell into what might be termed a trance. Which is why she didn't notice when someone else entered.

Naomi was on her way to a small nook on the fourth floor that had a window overlooking part of the Black Lake and the Forest. She'd wanted to draw it ever since she'd caught a glimpse of the view, but hadn't had the chance until now. She carried her sketchbook as well as her other drawing supplies in a canvas shoulder bag and her hair was up in a bun with strands falling out all over the place and a pencil stuck through it.

Before she started, however, Naomi wanted to grab some nice colored pencils from the Arts room so she could work on her coloring. When she opened the door, expecting to find an empty room, she instead saw a girl, younger that her, using the dance floor. She looked longingly at the art supplies across the room and decided that she'd just try to get them as quietly as possibly and try not to disturb the other girl, since her eyes were closed as she danced.

Naomi made it all the way across the room, sneaking glances at the graceful dancer as she went. She slipped the pencils into her bag, but as she turned to head back, her bag swung and hit a can of paintbrushes which fell to the floor with a clatter. Naomi winced and stared at the brushes scattered all over the floor before crouching to pick them up. "Um, hi," she said quietly, still staring at the floor.

Naomi's Appearance

Nilla was in the middle of a pirouette when the clatter of fallen paintbrushes sent her sprawling across the floor. Agitated that she'd been disturbed from her tranquil peace, she rose to find a nervous girl about her own age looking back. The girl stammered a greeting and Nilla blinked silently. Obviously, it wasn't nice to simply fly off the handle at the girl when the incident was obviously an accident. Still, the girl could have been a little more careful. But no. Nilla wasn't a bully, much as Gryffindors were viewed as such, and she refused to act like one. Instead she turned to help the girl gather the wooden brushes.

"Hi," she replied after a moment. "I'm Nilla." And you just totally screwed with a routine I've had down since I was five. Of course she didn't say that, it would be rude and totally out of line. At least, not until she knew the girl a little better.

When Naomi finally did glance up, it was to see the other girl climbing off the floor. Obviously, she'd startled her enough to throw her completely off. "Oh, Merlin, I am so sorry." She moved as if she was going to get up to help, but the girl had already picked herself up and was coming over to help her gather up the brushes.

"Naomi," she responded quietly, blushing from her embarrassment as they put the last of the brushes back in the can together. "And I'm so, so sorry again, I forgot about my bag-" She cut herself off before she descended into a nervous babble. She could tell the other girl was angry, even if she wasn't being mean. Small blessings.

Naomi wasn't exactly sure if it was out of line, but before she could think about it too hard, she had blurted, "You were really pretty and your dancing is beautiful." She looked down at the floor again as her cheeks turned pinker.

Nilla waved away the girl's apology as she stood, "I'm fine. My dignity's a little bruised but I'm not hurt." Which was true, she had no physical injuries and her dignity would recover soon enough. Besides, the girl obviously hadn't meant to knock over a tin of wooden paintbrushes just to disrupt Nilla's dance. If anything, Nilla would guess the girl had been trying to do the exact opposite by being as quiet as she could.

Oh, Nilla was still frustrated, but it wasn't really at the girl, so much as it was at herself for being so easily disturbed. "It's really nothing," she stated when the girl stammered yet another apology. "Nice to meet you, anyway," she added with a small smile.

Nilla glanced shyly at the floor when Naomi complimented her dancing. "Thanks," she said with a light blush. "Do you draw?" she asked, because the girl didn't look like a painter or a musician, but she had obviously come here for something artistic and that didn't leave much.

Naomi sighed with relief when the other girl told her she wasn't hurt. She had been afraid that she might have hurt something as she fell, but luckily, that didn't seem to be the case.

"It's nice to meet you too," Naomi said. Despite Nilla's insistence that it was alright, Naomi still felt extremely guilty for interrupting something so beautiful. She had never really been able to dance, so she admired anyone who could, especially as beautifully as that.

"You're welcome," Naomi returned, noting Nilla's blush. It made the other girl look quite cute, and Naomi blushed at the thought, ducking her head. She looked back up in time to hear Nilla's question and nodded. "A little, mostly landscapes or still life. I've never been able to capture living beings very well. I just came in for some colored pencils, to practice shading with them."

Nilla nodded in understanding. Not that she drew much outside of the occasional doodle in the margins of papers. "Well, you're most likely better than me at it," she stated with a self depreciating chuckle. Oh, she wasn't complaining. Dancing was her life-force and she wouldn't trade it for any other talent out there, but she sometimes envied artists their ability to make something virtually immortal. To capture a single moment in time and preserve it.

Sure, dancing told stories and was just as much a way to preserve a moment as any other art form, but they were inevitably forgotten or eclipsed by something else. "I haven't the talent for drawing," she stated after a moment. "Even my parents aren't afraid to tell me that I'm pants at it, which really tells you how bad I am." Granted, she hasn't done anything worth showing them in a while, but her last drawing of what was supposed to be a chicken received loud guffaws from both her parents. She hadn't been offended, seeing as even she found it hard to recognize the drawing for what it was meant to be.

Naomi smiled, taking the self-deprication as a compliment, although she wished the other girl wouldn't put herself down for her sake. "It's hard to be a good artist and it takes a lot of practice. I've been drawing for years and I'm still only ok," she told Nilla. "Anyone can become at least good, if not excellent, with practice."

"Anyway," Naomi continued, "I wish I could dance like you, but I've never been the best dancer. I've never had any lessons, though, so I suppose that's not surprising." Naomi didn't exactly have two left feet, but it was took concentration for her to follow a beat, and if she tried anything complicated, she usually ended up tripping over her own feet.

The two girls finished up their cleaning and Naomi stood to place the brushes on the counter, offering Nilla a hand up off the floor. "Thanks for helping me clean that up."