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Posted: Wed Feb 12, 2025 7:17 am
Characters: Ebony and Vincent Prompt: Catching the countess practicing her dance, Vincent sheepishly asks her for some lessons.
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Posted: Fri Apr 25, 2025 8:37 pm
   The weekend. When associated with a school, most people only thought about the students having a break. But that wasn’t the whole story. Rarely did people think about the amount of work that teaching involved, something Ebony was all too familiar with. As a countess, she had been tutoring and teaching in some form since she was in her early twenties. It was just a part of society, the elder women helping to coach the younger into perfect ladies.
Maybe how long she had been at it was part of the reason why she treasured her weekends. Even now she had allowed herself an additional thirty minutes to lounge and luxuriate in bed. It was the only time that she wasn’t experiencing the grinding discomfort of her nerves trying to communicate with a hunk of metal, but it also meant she was vulnerable.
Rolling, she shifted her weight and threw her leg over the side of the bed to sit up. Her hands slipped to the edge of the bed, trying to locate her prosthetic as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes. Finally she found it. Somehow she had taken it off at her sitting table last night, the hazy memories of hopping over to the bed filtering through Ebony’s mind.
With a small sigh, she resigned herself to having to hop back over to it. Standing on one leg was simple enough. After nearly ten years, things had gotten easier. Yet moving without her metal leg was another story. Having one leg left her hopping slowly, unsteadily forward. The only way to make it even remotely easier was to place a hand on the wall as an anchor. One that kept her from wobbling too far one way or the other.
As she settled down at the table and reattached her leg, she found herself grumbling under her breath and making promises to herself that she would take her leg off closer to the bed going forward, even though she knew it was a promise she would not keep.
With her leg, her morning routine was much easier. Finding and draping her robe over herself. Ringing for a maid to bring her breakfast. Getting changed as she prepared to dance. It was a hobby she hadn’t gotten to indulge in nearly as much as Ebony would have liked since coming to Utopia. One that she was so determined to keep she’d had her leg built by the finest mechanics in Uilum and clamped into her nerves to operate. It still required charging to use, but thankfully she was able to use electric pearls provided to her by a benefactor as needed.
It was also a funny thing to have to learn to dance with.
There was only so much that even the best could do. Metal would always be heavy. It wasn’t like they could build her a working leg that was entirely hollow. Learning to accommodate her movements to offset the new weight had been a multi-year endeavor. One that she had set herself to in the early days after the initial pain of the installation had faded into a dull ache.
The matter of her clothes was also a problem. Tights were needed to prevent thighs from rubbing together. Which was still true. While she was missing a decent amount of her thigh, she still had plenty of her leg left that needed to be protected. But the funny thing about metal was that it did not play nice with tights. Or fabric in general, really. Eventually some of the leaves and florals in the design of her leg would create a tear. She was lucky enough to have a maid that had taken to the task of finding a solution with an unmatched determination.
Which was how she found herself now, at Utopia Academy, standing in the dance studio on campus with her whole leg up on the bar and leaning into a stretch to warm up. A sizable music box sat in the corner of the room, cranking out a tinny sounding ballet. The song caused a flutter of joy in Ebony’s heart as she found herself settling down into third position.
A high note sounded, bringing her up en pointe and back down again on the next low note. She repeated this a few times as if she were working out any stiffness in her ankles before launching herself into the choreography for the song that she had been taught as a child. For this was her reward for making it through the week. Her eyes closed, enjoying the familiar movement as a serene look passed over her face.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ Dance Room ✧ Alone ✧ Outfit
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Posted: Fri Jun 06, 2025 9:15 pm
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Posted: Sat Jul 12, 2025 10:22 pm
   The final notes of the ballet finished, and Ebony unfurled her body. Stretching her arms out and dipping her head back she could feel the way her chest rising and falling in time with her heartbeat. Then her body shifted, her posture straightening up to her full height and her hands threading together to settle demurely before her. Turning, blue eyes like limpid tears found the art instructor.
Dipping into a curtsy was second nature, though in the back of her mind she was sure it looked odd. Her figure was on full display, her leotard and tights unable to disguise the odd way her body moved as it compensated for the heavy metal limb. "Good day to you Mr. Kelsey." Her lips quirked into a smile, one that she could only hope seemed genuine. Her ex-husband had always told her that her smiles looked like she was offering condolences at a funeral. The memory made her falter and her expression returned to something more neutral as she approached him.
"I find I must apologize." Her steps had ever so slight of a limp to them. One that the average person may not notice. It almost appeared to be a natural part of her gait, if it wasn't for the way her hips shifted as she stepped. "I had noticed you enter, but had not registered the implications. It was remiss of me not to stop."
One of her hands slipped up the other arm, wrapping around herself in a way that may have looked imposing in her regular wear. In her current attire, it made her look smaller. Unsure of herself as she contemplated her next move in this interaction. With the students it was easy. She was Countess Way, a woman who was meant to be strict with them to help them achieve greatness. Right now she was just Ebony, stripped down to near nakedness in the wake of attempting to socialize with someone her own age. She knew how to mother hen children, but to speak with a man?
Her prior attempts had never been impressive, to say the least.
Squeezing her arm, Ebony was doing her best to remember how a one to one interaction worked. "What brings you out this way? Have you been enjoying your weekend?" Hopefully that would be good enough.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ Dance Room ✧ Vincent ✧ Outfit
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Posted: Mon Jul 28, 2025 8:55 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 17, 2025 7:25 pm
   Her fingers ran up her sleeve as she looked up to him. She was not a short woman by any means, but it was impressive how easily she felt dwarfed by the man before her now. Maybe it was because she was in little more than a leotard and tights. Maybe it was because this close it was impossible not to notice that he was a fairly attractive older gentleman regardless of his status in the peerage.
Oh bother. She was too old for pretty flights of fancy.
The thought did not stop the flush from spreading down her neck and disappearing under the neckline of her top. "It is nothing." The lie tasted sweet on her tongue, though it did not make her flinch in the slightest to offer it to him. It was nice to lie in someone's favor for once. "Hardly a blunder, I cannot fault you for your curiosity when I left the room open." More sugared words fell from her lips unbidden, as if she were a babbling maiden at her debut.
The reality of the situation had far graver implications than she was willing to explain to Vincent. A man and a woman in a chamber together alone only meant one thing, and the ton would have a field day with the scandal of it if they were caught. So much so it could be enough to force them to wed. Thank god they were not among the ton at the moment. The old biddies wouldn't get their gossip from the teachers of this school.
Her weight shifted, the nerves of her leg irritating her from standing in one position too long. Or, rather, for standing in one position too long after dancing. Her stance almost seemed to open her up, offering more of herself to the man before her without doing anything but letting her hand drop down her arm to wrap around her wrist. "Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Kelsey, though I hardly feel like I would be able to replace Mr. Nishant." She could only imagine how much heavier her leg would feel after an hour of giving proper dance lessons.
Still, it didn't stop a flutter of enjoyment of his attentions from flipping over in her stomach. "That is good to hear. I can only hope it continues. As for the dance... It was Paquita: Variation 6: Andante." Now her hands were twining together before her in a nervous gesture. Knowing what she was about to offer felt scandalous. Even more so than just being caught alone in this room together. And they weren't even caught yet. "If you should like, I can invite you here the next time I dance. If that is not too forward, of course."
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2025 10:07 pm
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