Chouquette's hazel eyes looked around the rink as she stepped onto the ice, excited to try her new skates since she used her mother's old ones for the past year.

When she says old.. She means old. It's a miracle she didn't break her ankle in those. Not that they weren't pretty.. they were! But almost 50 years old! That is a lot of time for skates to earn lines and be unsteady...thus, she was beyond excited to try the new ones that had arrived for her from Italy. That her coach ordered, her grandmother bought. 

She was a good skater, probably thanks to being a great gymnast. Talented for sure, but started a quite late to make that into a career, too. The girls here though? They were better. They trained longer and could out-score her. Not that that mattered. This child skated for fun and for the beauty of it. Yet she was more than eager to look at the older girls and pick up a few things from them.

The way they spin, the way they jump, step and move.

Breathtaking. 

She stood by the entrance for almost two whole minutes just watching her rinkmates do their own thing. With smile on her face and stars in her eyes.


Amazing. Beautiful. 

Those were her thoughts when she finally shook it off and started to skate and even when she did.. she still kept stealing glimpses of the girls.

Girls spinning, jumping, talking, playing. There were only a few here this early, but nevertheless... figure skating was always mesmorising.

It wasn't quite like the solitary snow queen to take to the ice that so often mocked her name. Ice skating, though elegant, was nothing like ballet. Sure, it had the same call for balance, core strength, and elegance, in all the twirls and pirouettes it staged, yet it was lacking the roots - the core fundamentals - which gave ballet its elegant (and ruthless) gracefulness.

It was the first the ice rink saw of the Miator girl; she'd been reclusive ever since the school had started to dwindle in life. Not that she was much of a socialite anyways. Like many coined her nickname as, a snow white widow - a spider - she conducted most of her daily life in solitary. That was, until she met that goofy strawberry-haired dreamer of a girl, but nonetheless, old habits died hard. Slender legs failed to quiver or tremble with the awkward strain of the unfamiliar boots. She already knew how to keep balance. She knew how this worked. Yet... Would it be foolish to admit she'd never once taken to the ice? This was new. This was stupid. Why was she even doing this? Yet she'd been perhaps foolishly drawn out of the frosted web she dubbed home and decided, for once, to reveal herself to the public eye. In any other setting, this would be rather sinister for the unsuspecting students; she was a flirtatious temptress; a manipulator through and through. Yet a rare bout of loneliness, perhaps, it could be called, had challenged this and cast her out from the shadows into the sun, almost like an imaginary drizzle of rain.

Iced eyes tracked a newcomer that slid onto the ice. She had been leaning against a wall nearby, jadedly watching everyone twirl and glide around the rink. She didn't seem like a beginner; perhaps intermediate at most. Though she seemed distracted by the others. Pity, Alice was almost curious to see what this girl could do. Nonetheless, the albinoid soon approached the entrance, staring at the icy floor much like a curious cat, before propping a bladed shoe up onto the slippery surface. Instantly, she felt the pull of the blade wanting to go in all different directions. Bother. This required balance, yes, but more core balance than ballet. Certainly, it couldn't be that different, right?

Glancing at the others then back down at her foot, she hesitated only for a moment before bringing the other foot up to meet it and pushing off, gliding out into the ring. She extended her arms like the wings of a bird, keeping her balance before tucking them in and pushing off on one foot, sliding the other along to join it. It took a while, but soon she was more or less moving. Glancing at the others, she watched as they twirled and shimmered in their own elegance. Pirouettes... Were they similar on the ice as in ballet? The snowy girl took a deep breath in and channeled her balance, raising one foot up off the ice straight out in a ballet position. Sweeping her arms up across her chest and out, she glided along like that, then tucked her arm in and pushed off and up with a bound, crossing her arms across her chest and twirling. Shoulder-length snowy hair swirled like glistening icicles of snow as she twirled in the air. This wasn't so different, now to land--

The thin blade slipped out from under her as she tried to land, quickly unraveling in her snowy elegance. In a quick moment, she fell slightly sideways and back, hitting the ice hard. Sparkles of it sprayed like jewels into the air while the sound resonated around the ring in a quick thud. Iced eyes glazed in a blurry haze as she stared up at the bright lights above, sprawled out like a swan shot down, snowy hair fanning out over the ice. To any other person, this would've paralyzed them temporarily in pain. But due to her rare condition, Alice could not feel pain. So while something might've been horribly bruised or a small concision might've welled in her head, she couldn't feel any of it. Unable to perceive this, it just dazed and winded her.

Jeez, how embarrassing. She wanted to move but her body protested for her to lay there for a moment, almost as if it realized something was hurt, though she couldn't feel what. What an awful thing; what an inelegant display. The prideful girl just lay there in her own bitterness, her pride slightly wounded. Hopefully no one saw that...

The short haired brunette didn't take an immediate notice of the silver-haired girl. She was too distracted watching the older girls spin and jump to truly notice anyone pass her by or enter, anyone that wasn't doing something that caught her curious attention, that is. After all, this girl was well trained into observing. Her body and mind yearned to figure out exactly how they push off and move in certain positions so she, herself, would be able to attempt mimicking them at least and improve hers.

Her fingertips brushed against the glass surrounding the rink. She supposed it was time to push off and get to actual skating herself before the rink closes. Even if it didn't open that long ago, the time would pass with just her staring and she really was dying to try a Charlotte spiral! It didn't look more difficult than an illusion turn...actually she hoped it'd be easier than that. The illusion turn, in gymnastics, confused her quite a bit and yet she could do the most elegant double pirouettes and pirouettes with her leg next to her head on the beam. But if she could pull of a Fan, Kerrigan, Inverted, Arabseque and even a Biellmann spiral, granted those she couldn't hold long, then surely a Charlotte shouldn't be that hard. Then again, she always succed more easily with something that nobody could do, but failed at something anyone could. What stupid mistakes she has made in her life. Thankfully none were seriously damaging, but still.

She let go of the wall, but just as she was about to skate she caught a vision of beauty. Slender girl carrying the grace of a ballerina in the air around her. Perhaps she is a figure skater? It appears as if she was about to enter an upright spin?

Yet Chouquette would dub her as a ballerina or even a rhythmic gymnast instead. Of course many different body types did different sport, but the way she was build told her so. It , at least, told her she'd be good at these two sports.

Before she had a chance to snap out of her thoughts, the graceful beauty seemed to have forgotten where she was. She didn't calm her position down and step out the spin backwards, like she should have, but instead her boot twisted on the thin blade and- "Watch out!" She yelled out to no avail before she shut her eyes, hoping she will regain her balance and not fall in the worst way possible. Chouquette really could never watch any falls or sloppy skills that looked like someone might get injured. She couldn't.


--

Despite the loud noise that the girl's fall made, the world continued moving. The music at the rink still played and a few girls continued their own routines, trained not to pay attention to this or be punished while a few stole sneak peaks of worry, but none dared approaching to receive a scolding from their coaches. Chouquette understood. She did. Gymnastics was the same. You couldn't approach your injured teammate or friend, not for long even with the kindest coach or you'd have gotten a mouthful. They were there to do that. But this was not gymnastics and she was not bound by these rules without her coaches here.

-----

A few seconds passed. Then about half a minute. A minute.

The girl still laid there, sprawled on the floor like an injured, shot bird. Perhaps a swan? And nobody was approaching her. The coaches seemed to be starting to whisper among themselves and, considering none came front, she assumed the girl was not theirs.

Normally, she doesn't approach within the first minute. She *hates* having anyone witness her flop something and has lied being well on multiple occassions because she was more embarrassed than hurt, but if this girl could stand up on her own..she would.


Her body moved on it's own, out of her pure concern. She acted on impulse, forgetting she was even on ice, just wanting to get to the young girl and get someone to help if it was needed.

The blades of left thin trails behind her. She skillfully dodged the skaters, avoiding getting into the way of their spirals, spins, jumps or crosses.

Once near, she dug the tip of her blade in the ice and bent down on one knee, not even minding that her legging immediately soaked up the icy water. It didn't look like she was in pain, but her eyes seemed ..so distant. As if she felt nothing.. she couldn't have broken her neck..? Paralyzis...? Those thoughts haunted her optimistic mind.

"Are you okay?" She placed her hand on the girl's shouder and the other on her cheek, in hopes of getting her to focus her attention on her and not drift off if it was serious. "Can you move?"

**Flashback**


"Again, Alice, that was terrible!"

"What was that?! You'll never make it if you can't grasp that move!"

"To think that people actually think you're talented! Haha, give me a break!"

That chiding, high pitched voice snickered, resonating about the room. The black haired annoyance stood here, silhouetted by the melting array of colors of the sunset in the large window behind her. No matter what Alice did, no matter how much she twirled or bounded or pushed herself, that chiding voice of her rival still chases red all the same.

It was that night the Himeno parents found their daughter nearly collapsed on the floor of the mansion's ballroom, soaked in sweat and decorated with bruises and scratches. Elegant footsteps had left trials of blood in their wake and the tips of her white ballet flats were painted by a red gradient due to her wounded toes. Her body trembled yet she felt nothing. Pain was nonexistent because of that condition.

"I hate her..." Those words had slipped out as the snowy parents neared, concerned for their daughter.

"I hate her! I'll tear my body apart if it means keeping one - no, ten steps ahead of her! For are you truly human - are you truly alive - if you can't feel the pain to stop yourself?"

---

That long forgotten memory wedged itself into her mind as she lay there. By now, a face had hovered above, and a concerned touch had contacted her cheek. Still taken by the memory, that face was graced by narrow eyes the color of a rich red wine. Black spiraling coils of curls and two signature twin tails flowed from either side of the head; everything tied together by that one smirking smile.

Alice's eyes narrowed, and as she blinked her snowy lashes the image above her faded into a softer, more gentler face. Fluffy cinnamon brown hair framed a gentle face which was graced by two pools of hazel. They were inundated with concern, and Alice had yet to recall why, yet then she felt the chilly kiss of the ice on her back and realized she was sprawled out upon it. A voice cut through, and the frozen azure orbs drifted to connect with the hazel above, narrowing like a cat's.

"I'm fine, my dear." Flowed out softly through pale lips, though there as an edge of sourness to it.

Shifting, she propped herself up as best she could on an elbow before bringing an ivory hand up and laying it on the girl's wrist of the hand that lay upon on her cheek. She gently pulled it away and held it off to the side as she sat up the rest of the way. Sparkles of ice shimmered on her hair and back as she moved. She was partially soaked on her back from the ice yet being of a naturally cold temperature herself, this didn't bother her too much. She brushed some of the dust-like ice from her hair with her other hand then fixed it. She assumed everyone here and seen her fall. Not that many seemed phased, they probably were trained not to tend to those whom had fallen. Which wasn't too far from the code of ballet, or at least, in her regime.

Jeez, how embarrassing. A bitter look crossed over the girl's face as her pride basically was sliced into. Glancing at the girl, she took a better look at her. She was rather cute and the hairstyle suited her well. She looked like she was rather adept in this line of graceful activity. Perhaps she was a gymnast of sorts? Alice couldn't conclude anything for certain, but this girl did seem skilled at ice skating at least. Deciding to divert the conversation to save her wounded pride, she took notice of the girl's legging which had been soaked.

"Jeez, such a foolish thing to do, cherie. Your legging is completely soaked."

Chouquette simply watched, observed, as the silver-haired girl prompt herself up into a sitting position. Her slightly chapped lips had parted a bit, resembling the shape of a small 'o' at the moment. She was certainly not going to urge her nor stop her, but would definitely catch her before she hit the ice again if she was unable to sit or stand up.

--

*Aaaaa-ah. Another person more mature than I am.* Her , ever-so-helpful, brain uselessly added in the back of her head.

Oh, not that she minded. At almost seventeen, this child.. this girl, whichever category you'd want to put her in, that was about to start fifth year, looked twelve to fourteen, at most fifteen.

She was short, 162.5 centimeters to be exact and, suitable to her height, she dressed in her clothes made for ten-twelve year olds. Even her leotard size was small and leotards are made smaller due to how gymnasts' puberty is often delayed, sometimes skipped as well, due to the lack of body-fat. Their bodies simply lack the fats needed to grow or develop thus they put everything off in order to repair the muscle that gets worn daily by harsh conditioning and practice.


It was not just the height. She had the voice, as well as personality/attitude, of a five year old. Over the phone, she was more often than not mistaken for a small child because of that. All in all, it suited her. She sounded younger, acted younger, thought as if she were younger often and looked younger as well. It wasn't odd on the girl at all, quite fitting and cute as a matter of a fact, but it was the reason why people never believed her age. Make up was tricky, too! She never knew would she be a pretty twenty year old or a cute eleven year old with it.

--

This girl. She seemed to be carrying such grace on her. Grace that Chouquette only had matched while out competing or performing, that is when she got serious. Outside of training, she was quite a bubbly girl. She chatted and played a lot, like a child would. She liked to make friends, sing and do acrobatics or stretching whenever possible.

..Now, it was not right to assume, but she thought that, by mannerism alone, she was a St. Miator student. The first look told her that she seemed to have liked solitude, but had strong character and most certainly didn't mind being amused. Perhaps the stubborn type of girl that will do everything on her own and care for very few people. Although whom and what she does care for, however, she honestly does. Such people pick a few and stick by their side for a lifetime. Now , the question left was, was she distant and quiet or rather well-behaved and polite, a bit of a flirt maybe?

Those are just the things she seemed to notice at first glance. Some might be wrong, some might be right, but years of witnessing all sorts of things made her a pretty good judge of character.

Hopefully she is not upset with her? Maybe she didn't want to be approached? ..But the way she laid there had made her indeed concerned. Chouquette laid like that only if she had failed a skill quite a few times and was in a 'Please kill me already' mood for that. Of course, she got up within the span of ten to twenty seconds herself..and then tried and tried until she managed to get whichever skill she was working on. And then, she practiced until it was near perfect. Her heart and mind always seeked perfection, believing if you cannot be perfect then you should, at least, come as close to it as possible. Chouquette didn't see the girl practice and fail earlier.. it must have been the first try of the day. So it would not make sense for her to lay out of mere frustration. That is what made her approach in concern.

----------

It looked like the girl was fine. She must be incredibly lucky to come out un-scratched from such a nasty fall.. if her ankles and legs can move too , that is.

Chouquette's eyes shifted down to her own body. She lifted her knee up for a swift look, simply because of how distracted she had gotten.

Purple leggings, of her left leg, from her knee to her boot, were indeed completely soaked. Not that she was completely unaware, the back of her mind told her they'd be even before she knelt down. A human life mattered much more than a pair of leggings.

"Don't worry about it~!" Her lips swiftly curled into a very happy smile, as if she just got told pudding is for dessert. "I don't mind, they'll dry~ Besides, I've walked around looking much worse." And then she laughed, wanting to let the girl know it was not her fault and no damage had been done at all. Training made her clothes sweaty and dirty more often than not, even when changed, not to mention that ,underneath the tight-fitting fabric, her legs had bruises she didn't remember as well.


"More importantly, are you all right? Can you stand?" Returning to a little touchy subject might not be the best, but she realy was concerned with the way she fell. If she could stand and move then she'd most certainly drop the subject, knowing full well how uncomfortable it must feel.

(I love your writing, by the way! You write very well and I like how you section parts off in correspondence of description and in the moment. Very interesting character too! I hope you're alright with stubborn Alice haha)


A bit of a bubbly soul, this girl seemed. One with a sweet face and voice to match. Alice wondered how old she was and if she was new to Astraea; she was sure she would've seen this cute, youthful face around before one time or another. Perhaps she'd make an interesting temporary muse in wake of the snowy girl's recent boredom and that rare, irritating flicker of loneliness. Yet was it wise for a spider to attempt to locate so soon? This girl had barely even contacted her web, she'd slip away free and unrestrained by the time this ill-fated meeting closed to an end. That is, unless Alice staked her as prey and made an effort, but it had been a while since the venomous white widow had had her fun with a newcomer in her web, and she for once chastised herself for drawing to that course of action so soon. Yet still... She was a predator and flirt true at heart and, unlike the metamorphic ice that incased her, that couldn't easily be melted away. For those attributes were encased in the glacier of her being; the were simply part of her. Frozen so deep within that it would be difficult to change such things.

As for the little dove, she appeared to be unbothered by the drenched leggings. Surely, that would probably be cold, yet having assumed this girl was no stranger to the ice and gathering information from what had just been said, she guessed she was used to it. Such an energetic little dove though, she wondered which of the three institutes this girl attended. Perhaps she was a sleepy starling of St. Lulim, or a blazing white dove of St. Spica? Of course she could always be a black swan of Miator, but a stuffy surrounding of strictness and elegance and restriction didn't seem quite fitting of her. Then perhaps Spica, maybe? Alice's brain burned with possibilities as she mulled over what she could infer so far about the girl. She was cute and looked young, though a few years in this school had taught her that looks could be deceiving. She often found herself being mistaken as much older than she usually was. Perhaps this would be the case here?

Her thoughts iced over and halted as another inquisition of concern flowed her way. Alice flickered her icy gaze to the girl. Could she stand? Could she move? There was no pain telling her she couldn't, but giant bruises and scraps and cuts were common on her ankles. Many a time she'd find herself stumbling out of ballet practice, having hurt something, only to notice it when someone pointed out a limp or that there was a large, swollen violet and black bruise cuffing her ankle. It was dangerous, not being able to feel what most people could, though it was embarrassing when she got wounded and didn't realize it.

Bother. Guess she'd just have to see.

"Truly, I am fine, my dove." She responded stubbornly while she shifted her legs in preparation to get up. "Besides... isn't it bad etiquette to tend to fallen skaters?"

She noticed she was still holding on to the girl's wrist and slowly let go, her ghostly touch most likely leaving a chill on the other's skin. It didn't look like this girl came here for a lesson or with a coach, so that diversion was probably out of the question.She supposed the only way to duck out of this subject was to prove she was alright. Though this was proof Alice didn't know she had. Placing her fingertips on the ice, she elegantly yet gradually began to rise up, stragglers of jewels of ice sparkling like glitter under the lights above as she moved. The accursed ankle in question felt slightly weaker than the other (if she could feel it, it would be pulsating with a bit of pain). But pain she felt none, so she simply set down the foot and applied pressure, swaying a bit before lifting up the leg like a flamingo and rubbing at what she could around the hem of the boot. She hoped this was at least enough for the subject to be dropped. Her signature snow white braids swayed like mini pendulums as she continued the slight movements.

"Are you new, cherie? I think I would've at least seen a face such as endearing as yours around once or twice." She hadn't meant to speak, she wasn't much for conversation anyways, but might as well for the time being. An experimental flirtatious tone has entered her words for a brief fraction of a second, yet it trickled off on the last. She was genuinely curious about this girl, just a little, she'd admit. She certainly did look like a gymnast or skater and Alice wished to know to what extent. Hobbyist? Competitive? With her petite frame, she'd be good at the more elegant arts such as this. Ah, Alice wondered. Though a dose of curiosity was not always a good thing for the albinoid.

Dove?

How odd.

Was it a phrase that was commonly used around here? Perhaps just in Miator? If that is indeed the school she belongs to, that is. It would make a little more sense to Chouquette if she was wearing Spica's uniform at the moment as it is white, fitting of a dove.

Perhaps the girl used it for those who stood out, were different? Or just the way the she spoke?

Aaa..ah. It didn't really matter. In through one ear and out through the other then almost forgotten the next moment. After all, she was not the one to mind such things. If anything, she always found those who had their own way of speaking and acting to be quite interesting.

--

Chouquette's eyes just followed her movements. The way she had checked out her ankle was rather odd.

Was it sprained?

Possibly.

But, if it was, then it shouldn't be the worst case. A first or second degree that will heal by itself in the span of three days to two weeks if not tortured.

She, herself, had one too many of those. Her mind immediately thought of the one time, during training, when she was doing a round-off on the beam and landed too low because she didn't push off hard through her shoulders which, in turn, caused her feet to flex and almost miss the thin surface. That sprain lasted three whole days with all sorts of icing and creams. Despite the way she couldn't flex it and felt it 'off' she got up and then repeated a few more to reach the number of repetitions she was told to do.

If she could get through that, then the girl must be able to stand with such a sprain as well. If she was that level-headed and proud, not wanting her sprain to be shown then Chouquette would indeed respect that. She didn't seem stupid either. Would probably regonize a sprain and treat it on her own, away from the judging or concerned eyes of others because 'how could I be that stupid to do something like that. To fall in such graceless manner on something so simple'. If they were similiar, anyway.

. ..One thing is...she seemed less muscular. Hopefully the weakened ankle will be able to bear her body's weight to the exit of the rink at least, dorms even. She was pretty sure that she wouldn't see this girl limp even in the worst state, as long as anyone was around.

Hopefully she was just overthinking it. Maybe she indeed was lucky and came out well..? Still.. the way she had just reached for one ankle was odd... She wanted to ask if it hurts... but she will wait with that for a little bit.

Seems like Chouquette didn't even noticed how cold the girl's hands were. ..Not that the air was warm at the rink. The whole room was below -5 celsius according to her judgement and you could see another person's breath clearly if they breathed out deeply.

Ah. Not that it never felt that cold.. if you moved and jumped/spun around, of course.

She had automatically assumed they were that cold from resting on the ice for a minute too long after the unfortunate fall. Thus, she didn't pay much attention to the lack of her body's heat.

"Why?" She tilted her head. "Wouldn't it be bad etiquette not to help someone instead?" It made more sense. Although , if this was gymnastics, she'd not make a peep or move from what she was practicing, being thought not to dare. The coaches would tend to the injured person and the girls wouldn't interefere, ordered to continue doing what they did and act like nothing happened. Some disobeyed that, politely, but she never did. Not liking the coach's disappointment or anger. Of course, she sent a get well and how're you message if that was a teammate or someone whose phone number she had...which was..a lot of girls through the years. The injuries were sad indeed.

This was not gymnastics though. It was not an official training nor competition, she didn't have to focus on that, on them, and thus concern came first as if it'd come at an open gym. She'd not have approached if there was someone coming to ask if she was okay either.

--

"Hmm... I moved into the dorms at the beginning of May~" She smiled, lifting up her gaze from the boot of the leg that the silver-haired girl had treated rather skeptically a few moments earlier. "It is odd for most people that I moved in just before the year had ended, but I used to home/hybrid schooled for most of my life." She shrugged goofily, hoping it'd solve the usual weirdness and curiosity most experience with such answer.








//Thank you! I'm so happy to hear that * w *!~ I figured the writing was mediocre at best on my part, yikes- You write amazingly well though! ^w^

Oh, thankies xD~ *A lot* of what she does ,and how she does it, is rather based on mun's own life- It very easy for me to explain the things she does and how she does them in regards to sports/skillls etc..

Very original, I know,I Know haha~ And mind her?! I'm actually very happy~ Alice seems like a very well written character~ I'm quite interested to find out more about her~!