IMOG Figure Skating Partners Years 1-3 finished

Elena moved, fluid as a satin dancers' ribbon, grace etched into every arch of spine and extension of limb, her body caracoling through their routine as though the concept of air resistance did not exist for her, that yet again nature was bowing its head to the lady of the moonlight.

Giovanni had not begun so elegantly.

He had managed to fail both his triple flip and blue spark charm in their first half of the routine, and had instead opted to watch Elena fulfil her landing flawlessly, letting the sight of her wash away that pit in his chest from his failure, and that private irritation known only to those who demand exactness from themselves. However, Giovanni was a boy of persistence, and it lived in him the way cold lived in the dark, frosted lake water trapped beneath heavy ice sheets; quiet, pervasive, impossible to separate from the whole. He was sculpted by discipline and the quiet insistence of inherited expectation, and so, he refused to let a misstep anchor him. Yes, it left the faint metallic taste of ‘almost’ in his mouth, but he would not let it bloom, and instead, circled round to reach for Elena as she landed her impeccable triple flip, her skate striking the ice with a sound so clean it seemed to split the air with both the bright clarity of a horn and the delicate tinkle of a bell.

For a moment, as he had watched her in that suspended silver interval, the moon in the air, she had appeared unmoored from gravity. Her body drew inward, revolving with the soft inevitability of something celestial completing its orbit. And she was off, springing from the ice. Once, twice, (he held his breath) thrice! The rotations were immaculate. And when she descended, it was not with force but with belonging, her silver blade finding the ice the way a key finds its lock. Her wand followed, and from its tip light unspooled in fine threads of blue which exploded outward into the crystalline air, showering them in an arctic blue pale radiance of sparks.

A flash of something at the periphery drew his gaze away, and he swept a fleeting glance across the perimeter, the world shifting with a sort of surreality as he did so, darkened turquoise eyes catching silver light, shadowed treelines hemming the frozen lake, and snagging on something his brain registered as out of place, though her appearance gave anything but in the way her dark brown hair was gathered into a neat twist, pulled back smooth and as exact as calligraphy freshly imprinted onto parchment. Recognition struck not like surprise, but like a sudden sharpening of awareness. Elisa Wagner stood there, at the edge of the lake, wearing white akin to fresh snowfall and looking like she belonged there, her aura of composure striking amid the others. Giovanni saw her often enough in class to know the particularity with which she occupied a room, and here it seemed no different. Even now, she looked radiant and attentive, and he did not know what she thought of figure skating, whether she found it frivolous, impressive or excessive, but he wanted to know.

The thought passed through Giovanni with an urgent curiosity, but there was no time to dwell on that now, for Elena was already gliding back toward him, and they had a dance to begin together, and as they carved into the next curve of choreography, his blade traced a long crescent through the lake’s glassy surface, his shoulders settling and his breath aligning with hers. His eyes flicked towards her, shining with approval and admiration, and as they began, the shoreline blurred once more into abstraction.

They would attempt the waist hold lift, and if successful, if breath and balance aligned, Giovanni’s hand would find her waist with quiet certainty, fingers splaying at the narrow point just above her hip, firm but reverent. His other arm would steady at her back as he grounded himself, bending into the ice before rising, and drawing her upward in one continuous motion. Winter light caught in his eyes, turning their blue-green depths luminous, glacial, and mineral, like fractures of polished turquoise stones stirred beneath ice. The colour sharpened there in the cold as he looked up at her, she was framed against the pale sky, suspended in a long, silver line, trust held entirely in the steadiness of his arms.Then when her blade kissed the ice once more, he would hold her there close, a second longer than necessary,, breathing in the same frosty air before they would raise their wands in a mirrored motion to cast the snowflake charm, giving bloom should it be successful, to light, fine and pale at first before flowering outward into intricate frostwork, snowflakes forming midair in delicate geometries, each one briefly perfect before beginning its slow descent. They would not fall in chaos but in quiet abundance, a blue-white bloom unfolding above them and settling like a benediction over ice already laced with reflected stars.

Eventually, when steel was no longer singing beneath him and when the music had thinned for it to be over, he could then let his gaze seek the curiosity it wished to. But for now, the ice held him, and he let it.

date ; 16th of February, 2026 mentioning ; @Elisa Wagner abilities ; none

886 ; wordcount outfit in the reducio below ; outfit sta 7 ; eva 9 ; str 2 ; wis 9 ; arc 9 ; acc 9 ; statistics

𝕾he was flying. Airborne, the wind swirling around her limbs and lifting her upward, hand stretched towards the sky for a brief second before folding back towards her chest, she breathed deeply and began her rotation. A wide, fluid movement of her leg primed her jump, its strength giving her the necessary momentum to push off firmly from the ice, and soon she was flying.

There was no accurate description of the exhilarating sensation settling in her bones, as though she had grew wings and was ready to take flight, to cleave through the atmosphere and to become, herself, a celestial being. Eyes closing for a moment, she let her heart wander around the scene, freezing time in its track and allowing her to merge within the precise mouvement of the breeze playing with golden curls. A complete and utter silence. Peaceful, serene, she was nothing but Time and Movement, all woven into the other as her limbs rotated, a single soul on a moving rock floating through space. She spun once, twice, thrice — suspended in the air as though gravity had vanished, allowing the moonchild to forever float in this eerie state.

And she landed.

Her skates loudly clashed against the frozen surface of the lake, shards of ice erupting from beneath in a beautiful cascade as she beamed towards her partner, the thrill of success engrained into her heart. Her smile faltered upon meeting his watercolour eyes — though his features were carefully composed into a perfect façade, her own storm-tossed gaze pierced immediately his bravado, noticing the frustrated crease just above his eyebrow, or how heavy his breathing had become. Her starboy had apparently failed his action, the thought of which curved her lips into a teasing smile, as she skated closer to him.

Frozen fingers slipping into his — warm, as always, he was the fire her freezing soul seeked in the dead of winter — she lightly nudged him, an unspoken we got this swirling within her eyes. She would certainly use that incident to make fun of him later, though, that was a promise. Spinning into place, the raven felt his hand gently find her waist, as they prepared for the upcoming lift, which would swiftly be followed by a snowflake charm. Sucking in a breath, the honey-haired girl prepared herself, ready to touch the stars.

date ; 16th of February, 2026 notes ; any other action mentioned is for narrative abilities ; sixth sense, calming presence

393 ; wordcount skating fit in the reducio below ; outfit sta 6 ; eva 7 ; str 4 ; wis 9 ; arc 6 ; acc 8 ; statistics