feathered fall

Wings tuck in tightly against her back, Mags pushed her way through the crowd, her eyes scanning the ever-busy Pandemonium for a certain blonde. Rumours of the secret room had long reached her ears - it had always been a point of pride for her that she’d never needed their help, that she was capable of finding forbidden knowledge all on her own, thank you very much. But one dead end lead to another and soon, she found herself without any leads in a town that had far too many problems of it’s own. 

A hard shoulder knocked Mags out of her reverie and she felt her wings instinctively fluff up, a primal attempt to look like the aggressor, as she faced the drunk boy that had already stumbled away, the stench of tequila palpable even from this distance. This place was far too claustrophobic for her - she needed freedom, needed to feel the air run through her wings, needed to breathe in the sweet smell of pine. 

Mags could feel her heart beginning to race, the too-loud music a perfect match to her skittering heart. A few more minutes - that’s all you need. Dodging through the crowd, she finally made her way to the bar, hands grasping onto the dark wood with relief. “Excuse me!” she shouted over the music, trying to get the bartender’s attention. “Have you seen Nina? We’re supposed to be meeting up tonight!”

“You don’t gotta do that.” Griff stopped by the table, hands in front of his pockets. The only reason he came over in the first place was because he was half tempted to tell the waitress that he’d have whatever she was having. The girl looked so enthralled in her work that he couldn’t help gettin’ a little curious. “What’cha all focused on over here?” he asked, taking a seat across from the girl and peering at her notebook. “You were hummin’ something pretty.”

“Dance routines,” she answered, automatically shifting her books out of his way. “I’m choreograph most of the dances at Tip Toes and I’m running just a little behind. Once I’m finished this routine, then I can focus on the teaching part.” The faint first notes of Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude began to strain through her earbuds, momentarily discarded in her attempt to leave and she offered them to the man across from her. “It’s a little more advanced but I’ve got a good group this year. I think they’ll be able to handle it.”

Jasmine chuckled when she heard the next line. Her smile wide. “I wish we could just duet in the streets for the rest of the night,” she told her hating how stifled they had to be because they would send people into a trance.  This full moon…normally I can keep it in, but I swear it makes me want to turn my entire night into a musical, singing every damn thing.”

She heaved a sigh, knowing that Mags was right they did need to get these poor people somewhere safe. “I suppose with great power…to entrance them, comes great responsibility not to leave them on the streets and susceptible to danger. “After we get them in want to go flying? Maybe if we’re high enough up we can sing to our hearts content,” she suggest.  On the full moons, Jasmine just wanted to completely embrace who she was even more so than she did on a day to day basis. She wanted to sing, she wanted to fly, she just wanted to marvel in who she was.

Mags was already directing people back to their homes or a lock in, whichever was closer, her suggestions warm and soothing. “It’s dangerous out here,” she murmured. “Go home young one, and goodnight.” The couple’s glazed eyes blinked up at her before one nodded slowly and turning, began to shamble down the sidewalk. 

A quick glance told her that the area was clear and Mags shot her wings out once more, shaking them a couple times to work out the cramps. “I feel that deep in my bones. I miss flying in the sun. I miss being able to find a quiet spot and just be me. This town is so small.” Mags shuddered, unconsciously wrapping her arms around her torso. Her skin itched as she felt the buildings grow around her, claustrophobia making her breath catch in her throat. Trying to push the panic aside, she smiled a little too bright at Jasmine. “But yes, please. Let’s go fly!”

“As much as I want change, I don’t even do it for the big picture. I do it for the small individual pictures. Each individual story of hope and help. I could be a shadow, an invisible touch to those around and it would be completely fine with me.” She didn’t want others to end up like her. If she could save someone else from living a shell of a life, she could and would. If she could save someone from losing it all with no place to go, she would and she would work to give them that fresh start they needed.  “They might need us for the moment, but would they even let us help? Pride is a hell of a thing in a world filled with hate.”

Mags shrugged, the sudden onset of melancholy gone just as quickly as it had come. “Then they’d die. Or suffer needlessly.” Her dreams of a new, safe world did not often include the presence of humans. The more time she spent in Shadow Fall, the more time she spent researching all the awful stories and theories about District X, the less she cared for the human population. Shifting her backpack, Mags glanced at the path and back to the sunbathing Rowan. “I’m sorry Rowan, I didn’t come down here to complain. I just really wanted to spread my wings, so to speak.”

@magdaperes

“Oh sorry,” Lia told the other as she reached over her to grab a coaster for her coffee cup. “I’ll be out of your hair in no time. It’s just-” She started to say, getting cut off as the barista called out her name. Lia? Lia Diaz? “That’s me. Have to get my coffee fix in the mornings,” She told Mags with a little smile before picking her cup off of the counter and giving the barista a quick thank you.

Mags went to wave her off, her eyes half glazed over with sleep as she patiently waited for the barista to call out her coffee order, when the name wormed it’s way into her brain. Wide emerald eyes watched Lia as she grabbed her coffee, Mags voice catching in her throat. She knew that name. Had spent hours passing over it as she researched and researched and researched. “You never said your last name was Diaz...” She trails off, her voice a mere whisper. 

Juliet was silent as she listened.  Maybe that would work out, but she couldn’t be sure.  At least not until she let the administration look at the logistics.  “Those are all excellent reasons,” Juliet agreed.  “I might have to take you up on that.  I would rather not deal with the administration if I could just send them to you.”

“Here, take this.” Ripping a piece of paper from her notebook, Mags quickly scribbled down her name and a phone number, an excited smile on her face. “This is my name and my personal number. I always have my phone on me so just shoot me a text or call and I’ll book a day with the admins and we’ll figure out a day.” 

“Really?” She asked, caught off guard by the other’s offer, before a huge smile took over her face. “Cool! And sure. I’d love the help. I mean I’m many just whipping down the tables and placing one of the board games from that bin over there on each one. But, I’d love the company. You’re Mags, right?” Astrid asked, having seen the girl around the small town before.

Shoving the last of her papers into her side bag, Mags began to follow Astrid down between the tables. “You got it.” She watched Astrid wipe down the table and looked around, spotting a red bucket on a nearby table. As she headed towards it, Mags wracked her brain, trying to remember if she’d ever heard the woman’s name and continuously came up blank. “I’m sorry, I’m absolutely awful at names,” she called out over her shoulder, wringing out a greyish white rag before wiping down the nearest table that didn’t have any games on it. 

The idea of putting caffeine in the grumpy customers could work, but suddenly Amanda was imagining what her brain thought was the worst possible outcome. “Yeah but what if it made them still grumpy but like… louder. And more energetically grumpy. That’s sort of frightening too, isn’t it?”

Mags pulled a face and groaned. “You’re right - that’s an awful idea. Instead of just sitting and judging, they probably would have enough energy to come up and be a grouch at my table.” She sighed dramatically, as if she were faced with a terrible choice. “Guess we’ll just have to teach tolerance the old fashioned way. No dosed coffee.”  

“Never,” Eva teasingly replied with a laugh. “The work keeps me sane.” That was a slight understatement, without her work she likely wouldn’t have made it out of the twentieth century — recklessness had never been her thing, but she’d been dangerously close to allowing it to consume her after Petra. She listened attentively to Mags’s explanation, looking at the corresponding drawings. “I like the sound of that. You could have it be challenge by choice? Offer both groups the chance to take on the more challenging parts and then those who want the more complicated parts can be your anchors, dancing more to the front. That way everyone is challenged but no one feels like they’re drowning.”

Mags nodded, her pencil flying across the paper. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Although I’m expecting all my juniors to ace this routine - most of them are all fighting to move en pointe and if they aren’t ready for this challenge, then they aren’t going to make it this year.” She only let the most dedicated of her dancers take the pointe class, giving priority to the older girls who’s bodies weren’t so fragile and who showed up five times a week to practice. It was a hard style and she was a strict teacher, expecting the best from them. 

Jasmine was walking the streets tonight, looking for something fun to get into as she listened to some music blaring in her earphones. Normally, she resisted the urge to sing, but during the full moon, it was so overwhelming. It was as if she didn’t she would explode, as she walked, she let the sensation overtake her. “What’s the time? Well it’s gotta be close to midnight, my body’s talking to me, it says ‘Time for danger’. It says I wanna commit a crime, wanna be the cause of a fight, I wanna put on a tight skirt and flirt with a stranger.” As she sang, she danced in the street, even danced around the street light pole, for a moment. God it felt good to just belt out a tune, and when she actually paid attention to her surroundings, she was entrancing people on the street. She chuckled. “My bad…blame the full moon? Are you okay though?” She asked the person closest to her there, not sure if it had effected them or not. She loved the full moons so much. She was the epitome of the song ‘Out Tonight’ every time the moon shone bright and full in the night sky.

Moonlight filtered down into the street and Mags stretched her wings, the feathers practically glowing, grateful for the brief night of freedom. Her apartment was only so big and the studio constantly had people coming and going which meant she had become very practiced at keeping her winged form hidden. It was an uncomfortable way of life but it meant she survived. 

A familiar voice caught her attention and as she rounded the corner, she smirked at the small crowd that was beginning to grow around Jasmine. Instead of humming under her breath - her usual tactic when every fibre of her body wanted to sing - she let her voice echo out, strong and sweet. “In the evening, I’ve got to roam. Can’t sleep in the city of neon and chrome.” 

Moving through the crowd, Mags snapped her fingers a couple times and smirked as they didn’t react, still staring straight ahead. “They’ll probably be fine,” she said to Jasmine, her wings carefully pressed against her back so as not to knock anyone off their feet. “But maybe we should get them inside. A lot more dangers out there than just your song.”

“Ah, a big recital coming up, then?” Silas asked, smiling warmly. Most of him was still entranced, absolutely fascinated by everything the woman was saying. It didn’t even occur to him to wonder why. He was a pastor: his job was to know everyone, to help guide them to the light. Right? The tiniest part of his mind asked why he had been so bold to buy her coffee and sit down when he was a happily married man. A married man with another child on the way. 

“My daughter Phoebe takes ballet at your school, we just signed her up,” Silas explained, lifting his own mug to his lips and taking a sip. “It’s wonderful how much passion you have for your job. Not many people are so lucky,” he replied.

 “Oh! Phoebe’s an absolute delight to have in class and she seems to enjoy it very much. I’m excited to see what kind of dancer she develops into.” 

Her eyes and tone were warm despite the relatively generic compliment. She was by no means being rude but no parent wanted to hear their child was doing anything but wonderful in class. Once she spent more time with Phoebe, she would be able to give more direct feedback. 

“It’s really nothing. I love to see my students succeed - the best part of the year is after they perform at the Winter Recital and everyone gives them a standing ovation at the end. It really shows them that all their sweat, blood, and tears really does pay off.” This, Mags meant every single word of. Her students were what made it all worth it in the end. 

“I’m more than sure,” She assured the woman. As her head turned, Sophie moved in a small circle as she looked around the cafe before raising her voice slightly towards the patrons, “Let me ask this very clearly ladies and gentleman, would you rather she be listening to simple classical music or music that talks about a guy fucking his girlfriend in the backseat of a car, no rubber?” Many of the people gasped whilst others began to murmur, all the words exchanged heard by Sophie in a bustle but she still smiled at them all, “Glad we all agree!” She chimed with fake cheeriness before turning back towards the woman.

“Don’t worry about me, I can do what I was doing just about anywhere in this town. Plus, it’s like I just said, you weren’t listening to some trash so people should learn to appreciate the more beautiful and underappreciated things in life,” Sophie told her as she placed her hands in her jacket pocket, “Detective Vidales, at your service,” she smiled politely as she introduced herself officially, “Most just call me Sophie, though.”

Mags hid her smiled behind a hand, unable to help herself as she winked at a particularly put out gentleman. She wasn’t used to having someone on her side and couldn’t resist taking advantage of the situation. Ignoring the pointed stares and whisper of the surrounding patrons and especially ignoring the couple that began to get up and leave, she turned her attention back to the detective. 

“Mags,” she replied, her voice light.  Indicating the mess of papers spread out in front of her, Mags continued. “Thank you, by the way. I run the dance studio down the street and the new season starts soon hence all of this. My mind’s in twenty different places and none of them are paying any attention to each other. It’s utter madness.”  

Juliet pondered the suggestion for a moment.  It was a surprising and generous offer.  The logistics of a field trip were always difficult, but she felt like it might be doable.  “Hm, that would be really fun for the kids.  I’d just need to find a way to make it educational for the administration to approve that.”

“It’s great physical exercise. It teaches kids confidence and it’s great for boosting their creative skills and honestly, it’s just plain fun.” Mags earnestly listed each point off on her hand, her energy suddenly much more excited. “Just send the admin team my way and I’ll convince them.”

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about it,” Astrid told her with a little reassuring smile. “I’m just clearing up the tables to set up for the weekly Game Night, But, please ignore them. You’re welcome to stay. We could always use a new player?” Astrid offered up feeling bad for the annoyed looks she had been getting from some of the others. 

Mags hesitated, the pile of half-hearted drawings and scribbles calling her name. Really she should go home, stretch her wings and start her other research. But... 

“Okay. Yeah, okay - I’d love to play.” The corners of her mouth turned up and she began to clear her papers and notebooks back into her bag. Some of her students lived for these nights and would always come to class talking about this new game or the crazy monster they beat. “Do you need help setting up or anything? I don’t think my brain can take much more paper staring.”

“Whoa. Hold up.“ He scooted his chair back. “Stop right there. I’m getting flashbacks to middle school drama club. I had to wear fucking tights for that role. Let me guess– struggling author? Why else would you be listening to that in a coffee shop?“

“Good guess but surprisingly - no. I work down the street at Tip Toes and when you’re teaching five different classes, winter recital comes around fast. And this place,” gesturing around the coffee shop, Mags shrugged. “It’s got a nice background babble that helps me tune everything out and concentrate. But now, I have to ask - who did you play in the Nutcracker?”

“You’re a dancer?? How fun!” Sonja smiled, and took a seat with the other woman. “Do you mostly do the choreography or no?”

“I do. At least, I do for my classes.” Taking a deep drink from her tea, Mags practically sighed as the warmth worked it’s way down her torso. “I teach ballet and then run a few of the younger classes - those aren’t quite as much work as my en pointe dancers.”

“Of course.” Sonja smiled, “I’ll be right back.” She quickly ordered the other woman another tea and brought it right over. “I’m Sonja, by the way.”

“Mags,” she said, gratefully taking the steaming tea. “Please - sit.” Grabbing at the spread of notebooks and papers with one hand, she managed to clear a small spot. “The new dance season is starting in less than a month and I’m still working on a few routines,” she offered as an apology, a slightly sheepish grin on her face.