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BASICS

• current timeframe: ~ 1960s, France
• only daughter of a former ballerina, now dance teacher, who - unlike her mother - never showed any talents in dance; instead studies art history at the Sorbonne, writing her thesis on dance motifs in Degas' work
• 24 years old, unmarried, speaks English relatively fluently besides French, closeted lesbian, named after the doll
• to pay for her studies, she works as a receptionist at a hotel that she hates, led by a bunch of sexist men
• lives a predictable, "boring" life filled with a lot of reading, paper writing and chasing the next paycheck
• doesn't have a boyfriend, unlike any of the girlfriends whose huge group she's always at the periphery of
• her life takes a right turn when she meets Claire Camus, a photographer who offers to pay Bleuette to model for her
• the two have immediate chemistry and Bleuette accepts being part of a live Bleuette doll recreation project
• these photos win Claire instant recognition, fame and an invitation to the annual exhibition, but also make Bleuette recognisable in the streets



PERMISSIONS

• backtagging is good
• no ooc triggers or warnings
• warning for period-appropriate homophobia etc.
• open to timey-whimey jamjar interaction, historical scenarios and also straight-up modern au
• shipping is f/f only, but love gen interaction and especially friendship!
• pm for contact, cest/cet time zone


BACKGROUND

Sometimes, in between reports and assignments and secretary duty at the Big Men's board meetings, Bleuette looks at her heaps of books with reprints of Degas' works and wonders what it is she's looking for in those ballet motifs, her future or her mother. The mother who was always at the theatre, always on stage, rarely anywhere real or tangible or, least of all, around Bleuette. She looks at the tiny brush strokes that make up the ballerinas' faces and she thinks, it's easy seeing her mother in each and every one of them. She knows what the poses are called, first and fifth position, everything in between, the elegant port des bras and the sound of the pointe shoes against the floorboards which is something none of Degas' paintings can replicate.

She knows all that.

What she doesn't know is who her father is or if her mother will ever be satisfied with her, as long as she's not wearing tutus or tulle skirts or even figure-hugging leotards that leave you as good as naked to the world.

If her mother will ever be satisfied with her until Bleuette is her little dancing doll, spinning in a jewellery box to some bastardized version of Tchaikovsky.

Bleuette's journey starts in the moment she meets Claire who'll teach her, fair and square and free of charge, how to cut her strings and be a real girl, showing off that pliant flesh and soft skin that marks her as entirely human.