Heated chatter rustled through the crowded club. The last big show had been Wish Fulfillment, nonstandard for Queen, though drawing an excitable crowd. Words surrounding the club fell short as the intercom once again fizzled into being once more. The voice of Wonderland rose again with a few coughs.
"Hello, hello, and welcome or welcome back to my lovely garden of luscious flowers. Now, I'm aware last show was a tad different than the usual, but not by too, too much. This one harkens back to one that might be a bit familiar, but I won't go much further than that. It IS pretty much my job description to tease." Queen annunciated every few words in a sarcastic tone. "And with that, lets hit the lights, shall we?"
With the voice's words, the lights fell to almost nothing but black. People were motionless, eyes intent on the location of the catwalk. A few odd clinks of glasses were the only sound as anticipation waned.
"What we got tonight here's a special treat for all of you... wait, no, I did that bit already. Take a moment to appreciate how all of you, my loyal customers, have allowed me to expand enough to include two snow haired celebrities. And now, I humbly present the OTHER favorite Daddy's Girl, so sit back, and derive pleasure from the fact that daddy doesn't know. Hell, maybe he does, I've earned some notoriety."
Winter Schnee's thoughts drifted to her father. To his overbearing personality. To his demand for perfection. To his opinion of her ironically being considered the black sheep of the family. To what he would possibly say about his formerly precious daughter were he to hear about what she was currently doing.
"Note number one, disguises have routinely been proven to not work well against me. You look as if you want to explain yourself as to why you thought they would. Don't. Frankly, I stopped asking why miracles happen. I assume you know your baby sister works here, so let's clear that air. Good? Good. Okay, business time!"
Winter had thought about how lax the man in front of her was; maybe she was too used to Atlas bigwigs and empty suitors, but it was jarring to have someone speak so freely, and one that saw right through her and her intentions. Her mind wasn't fully set, so she had wanted to be nothing other than a pretty girl with white hair.
"Don't worry yourself, sweethear; I've actually become somewhat reputable in recent months, so don't feel ashamed. Though, know this, all the shades and scarves won't stop people from realizing someone with your name is on stage. You'll be known, though your sister's legacy precedes you. I think she'd be happy with that, actually, setting a precedent."
Winter had noted that it was strange discussing her sister in such a context, but her interests had long stopped involving caring about what her father thought of her. This would just be another way of expression to her, her name meaning nothing.
"Would you believe that's three... Three? Am I on three? Eh, we'll say three pairs of sisters. The last ones did a show together, so just throwing it oh, okay, that's a no for now I understand the face."
Frozen lights shattered the darkness like mechanical shards of sun. Carving through the muted blacks of the curtain created a beautiful contrast of colors with the shadows, bring attention to the lone figure present on the end of the catwalk. The silhouette was cloaked in an ivory cloak, appearing as a ghost gliding down the runway as effortlessly as snow adrift.
The mysterious silvered cloak glided along, the hood covering anything of note and leaving everything to the imagination. Winter looked down the catwalk and towards the impatient crowd, reaffirming her decision to herself. "As practiced." She had decided to stay formal, as was usual. She didn't typically, "let loose," so this was far more comfortable.
As the wight reached the center of the runway, the area beneath her glowed a shining blue white, the gutters radiating light from behind the wall. The figure turned to look as flocks of ghostly, wispy crows took to flight after appearing from the ground. Suddenly, the practiced march turned to fearful steps, panicked feet lightly tapping the floor as the cloaked figure began running towards the main stage.
"Step two, reveal." Winter felt comfort treating this like one of Ironwood's orders. This was far out of her comfort zone, but she needed a break from the locks placed upon her by being a specialist; she always had to be formal, strict, and strong.
Now, however, it was time for Winter to be weak.
As Winter dashed down the stage, her cloak floated transiently behind you, creating the perfect target for the crows to attack; the miniature Nevermores turned from peaceful flocks to ravenous birds of prey and set out to strike. The club was filled with the sounds of distress as the hood was torn from the woman's body, exposing her perfectly kept hair, placed into a bun, a single swirl mirrored against the hair covering her eye. Her cloak was violently ripped to shreds as she struggled to fight off the glowing birds to no avail.
"Specialist, bah!" Being a major player in the Atlesian military didn't leave much room for casualness, so Winter rarely found herself with free time. Being what amounted to a loyal attendant at times gave her little leeway in the world of romance, and her lack of stimulation in that regard left her with a hole to fill. "And considering I don't exactly intend on copulating with the first person I see off the street... This will do nicely."
With the frozen cloak torn to pieces, the Nevermores dissipated into light. Winter was meek, her arm holding the other as her body tried to shrink. The skies in her eyes were lidded, a response to all the other eyes staring deeply at the body they belonged to. Over time, Winter grew more powerful, her stature growing as she relaxed and loosened.
"Breathe. Relax. Order." Stress was nothing new to Winter, so calming herself was nothing new, either. That said, she hadn't anticipated the ocean of difference between stress derived from military work and being looked upon. It had been years since people had looked at her with lust, at least, unrestrained; soldiers were good at keeping it in their pants, especially compared to her former classes. Her memory flitted back to playful flirting back when she was at school, and re-familiarized herself with the feelings of hearts fluttering. "There, sufficiently loosened."
Now striding into center stage, Winter proudly presented her outfit, her arms folded behind her back. It was only now, on stage in front of lustful throngs, that she realized how... unprofessional her favorite outfit was; the fact that she had an outfit and not a uniform was strange in itself, considering her job. The snowflake pondered how she had more of a flirtatious nature than she had ever thought due to how her clothes demanded slightly more attention than they should.
A military specialist for such an advanced culture as Atlas should have no need for a flashy white coat, but Winter wore one that she realized had no purpose other than to accentuate her figure; it lacked sleeves, highlighting how her top's own sleeves were designed in a way to expose her shoulders, plus the belt conformed to her waist to accentuate her breasts. Underneath was a blue vest, tighter than she remembered it ever being. It served little practical purpose other than aesthetic, as it wasn't overly geared towards combat, nor did it possess any quality of a uniform. Her top, in addition to the half-lack of sleeves, was silky chiffon that flowed outwards as light as snowfall at her wrists, another poor design for battle. Above all was her tight white pants that accentuated her curvaceous rear, and the fact that her boots incorporated garters into their design. Nothing Winter wore suited a military figure that presented themselves as a fighter, but the woman realized that she had long been unintentionally hunting for a boyfriend by her manner of dress. Conveniently for her, as well as the audience, it was incredibly well suited to displaying a Schnee's pale skin and curves.
"Well... Ahem..." Winter pondered over her revelation regarding the flirtatiousness of her clothes. "Remnant has fostered a culture of expression, after all." While she liked the justification of the world encouraging uniqueness, Atlas was militant and uniform, and she had thought she fell into that as well. "It only makes sense that a high ranking official would present themselves as unique; I'm an easily identifiable goal to aspire to."
Winter went back to shrinking into her body, her demeanor shifting to weak as she began quietly chuckling to herself, still trying to come to terms with dressing as she did. She kept up her meekness as she reached for a pole and shifted across it. Her movements were stiff and false, carrying little in the way of emotion or joy, and that translated to her forcefully blank face.
"No. This isn't correct." Winter had spent hours getting into a mindset not brought down by the thoughts of national security and worldwide protection, but this was unfamiliar, uncomfortable. "Here, I am free. Here, I am no longer a specialist. I am supposed to enjoy myself."
As Winter glided towards another pole, her chest expanded, only to compress as she took a long, drawn out breath. Immediately, her mood changed along with her presentation. Hesitant eyes became solemn closed lids, stiff muscles became dainty limbs, and discomfort became serenity.
The solemn look on Winter's face became softer, her stern pout shifting to a small smile. "Yes, this is correct. I'd almost forgotten how to dance." Her father's lessons had been horrific and had been part of what caused her to leave, but skills were skills. Winter had learned ballet, along with other serene motions in her years as heiress, and even though she had rejected that destiny, familiarity and nostalgia greatly trumped stiff rehearsal,
Winter's loosening up meant her routine was greatly improved. Motions were graceful and deliberate rather than stiff and forced, and she turned to a snowflake in the evening with her grace. With soft circles and kicks, she twirled in time as a circle shined from beneath her; the shining black glyph seemingly exerted a force, knocking the snowdrift's hair out from her bun. Further tarnishing the attempted look at militant, Winter's precious silver hair fell upon her back, joining her in her dance as a icy trail. The glyph vanished, leaving Winter with her newly freed long hair to swirl around poles like ice in the wind.
Winter continued her newfound freedom of movement, traipsing effortlessly around the stage to awe of a snowy wonderland. In one gentle spin, she removed her collar, held together by a screaming scarlet gemstone. "Weiss..." Winter thought of her sister as she clutched the apple shaped necklace around her neck that belonged to her sibling. Losing her collar felt like she had stopped choking; she had never found her brooch smothering, but today, her sister's necklace seemed to ease her burden. Despite their relationship being somewhat strained and strict, Winter loved Weiss. If she was being honest, she found inspiration in her, how she presented herself for a crowd such as Wonderland. That was her freedom, and Winter was using that and her necklace to find comfort in doing it herself. This was the first time she had followed in her sister's footsteps instead of the other way around, and it was a pleasant warmth.
Now done reminiscing of her sister, Winter returned her mind to the stage. She'd grown significantly more confident now that people were cheering for her, but that didn't feel appropriate. "I can hear my heart beating... It's strange to feel this not in combat." She couldn't remember the last time she felt this sort of dread mixed with excitement. "Best to make it more familiar, then."
A glowing circle lined with swords appeared behind Winter. Out of the cool blue stepped the terrifying phantom of an Ursa, colors inverted to white and cyan. The crowd gasped, a good chunk never having seen a Grimm up close; while an approximation, the ghost roared a bloodcurdling scream that shook seats.
"So often I'm required to be strong."
Winter was powerful. She needed to be; who could lead armies without being strong enough to command respect? At times, the specialist was a woman, but the majority of life was spent as a knight, a blade, and an aspiration of martial prowess. At this moment, Winter wanted marital prowess, or at least the sense of attraction and lust that came with being female. She wanted to finally take off her scabbard and lie down.
"Control me. Let me rest a bit."
The ghostly Ursa swung a large, foggy arm and swiped at the back of Winter's legs. The claws raked harmlessly at the specialist's hard trained aura, but the force drove her directly to her knees with a breathless gasp. Her arms followed her legs to brace the ground, panting heavily.
"Let me be weak."
Winter's phantom struck her again, this time at her back. Again, her aura stopped any major harm, but her body shot up from the sensation of being whipped, her cry of pleasure and submission ringing out through the club. Her vest reflected the damage more than she did, claw marks ruining the sleek perfection of white.
More glyphs lit up the ground, smaller runes summoning a handful of smaller-than-average Beowolves. The Ursa ghost hung back, greedily watching as the pack of hunters set out to attack the weakened Winter. They began harmlessly clawing at her arms, preoccupied with fighting them off. With each successful slash, Winter cried out in pleasure, her form getting more and more ragged as she fell into the carnal satisfaction of injury and humiliation. Her clothes ripped, her hair fell further, and any sense of her role as a soldier fell apart as she became subservient. The Ursa roared in apparent pleasure, and the Beowolves stopped; it began lumbering forward, its icy body hulking.
"Save me."
The Ursa summon raised its paw up, ready to smash downward with its grim power. As it began its slam, it hitched, stopped by an unseen force; a thin, elegant blade pierced through its stomach, directly in the center. With a clean slice, the bear was bisected, dissipating into the ether as specks of light.
"Save your princess."
A gallant, glowing, ghastly knight flourished as it swung the pretend remains of the Ursa of its blade. It was sleek, thin, and elegant, possessing speed and finesse over strength, and seemed to glow both in foggy light and royal demeanor. The knight made a wicked slash, cutting the air around it, and the Beowolves dispersed into motes of light, following their leader.
Winter was raised to her feet by the glowing knight behind her. Her phantom represented that which she longed for when she thought too hard, or at least, when she was lonely; she enjoyed her position as a specialist of the military, along with her strength, but part of her wanted someone to protect, love, and care for her. It was so, so hard to be strong in front of every soldier at every period of the day.
The knight shrouded over Winter, embracing her body from behind. Reveling in her weakness, the figure drew its foggy hands over her body, caressing the clothes ruined by her Beowolves. Gently, it brushed her downed haired out of the way and drew its hands to her front and unbuttoned her vest, removing it slowly and methodically. Like a lover, it discarded Winter's ruined coat before returning attention to her vest. Assisted by scant tears, it removed the deep blue to reveal what remained of her top; Winter's shirt was torn all around her stomach, her half-sleeves long since removed by the claws of her Grimm.
"This is a nice feeling." Winter stood, helped by her phantom, never having felt safer and more comfortable, even considering she was being undressed in front of dozens of people. "This is... There's strength in this." She always had to look strong, so maybe having the courage to let herself appear vulnerable was strength in itself; she never looked weak, she wasn't allowed to, but this was liberating. Finally, Winter had the courage to be looked at something other than a soldier.
The knight continued caressing and undressing Winter. The Schnee grew warm as her belt was removed, taking the garters applied to her boots with it. The knight made a process of removing her boots, and all she had to do was stand there, letting her Semblance do all the work. She could relax, and be safe.
As the figure finished removing Winter's boots, she once again drew inward. Even as freeing as being weak was, undressing before a crowd was yet another layer to break through. Clutching her arms tight to her chest, she eventually relaxed, and let her knight start removing her pants. Tight white slacks fell to reveal equally white legs, well toned and wearing ivory garters matching those on her boots. They clung to stockings clutching tight to her thighs before continuing up to her panties; as the knight tore her ruined top off of her body, Winter meekly modeled her lingerie.
Winter's face was scarlet as the crowd took in her lack of dress. The famous first Schnee stood before a club full of people, wearing intricate lace and stocking. Her bra covered more than most of the flowers of Wonderland, but it was far more intricate and designed; its lace rounded the delicate cups that held up Winter's well sized chest, and a transparent shroud fell from the bottom to cover the top of her stomach. Even the straps were well designed, interwoven patterns of icy flakes rounding her shoulders. Her equally delicate panties were conservative, but beyond classy, covering a garter belt that cinched around her toned waist; matching the patterns from her boots, her stockings were pure ivory and fit immaculately, the pillowing at her thighs something to behold. Winter looked like a woman on her wedding night more than she did as a woman of Wonderland, and the figure behind her caressed her body like a greedy newlywed.
"Pay attention. This won't be happening again." Winter had found her comfort, and it was in her newly found aspect of strength. Vulnerability took just as much, if not more, than putting on a brave face for her entire life, and considering she could only hear jealous cheers over the light music, her confidence gave her the perfect mood. Her face was the picture of contentedness and satisfaction, slightly lowered eyes making her look like she was in love. "And now, take my hand."
Another black circle appeared beneath Winter and her knight. She turned to take the phantom's hand in hers, and she let it lead her in a graceful dance. The music turned far slower and smoother and all lights save the one on the pair dimmed to nothing. Winter and her partner began wistfully shifting around as their glyph raised them up, acting as a floor; the club turned into a dream as the pair began a beautifully choreographed ballroom dance, gracing the club with their presence as the glyph moved through the crowds. Winter and the knight were on a whole different tier of floor, above everyone in their slow romance, but the transparent nature of the glyph ensured that everyone got close, intimate looks at the satisfaction of Winter's face, along with how well her lingerie conformed to her body.
"This is right. This is what I should be doing here." Winter felt like she was dreaming. Considering she and her dance partner were the only things lit, adding onto the fact that she was floating over everyone, she had good reason. Even if her heart was thumping from the excitement of being nearly naked before a crowd, she rested her head in the crook of the knight's shoulder. She didn't care if everyone was staring at her curves or trying to see just how transparent the white on her skin was, she felt comfort as she danced over the club's heads. "I need to find a dance partner when I get back. I need more practice."
Winter and her knight graciously curved above the last table of patrons, and began dancing their way back to the stage. As the glyph lowered the pair onto the ground, the knight vanished into motes of light. The woman took a few lost steps and slowed down, letting everyone get a full glance at her lingerie in its entirety.
"I'll find you one day, and then I can slow down."
Winter looked at the space her dance partner had been; she looked like she would have spent the entire night dancing if she could, but also as if her fantasy had to end. The single spotlight left on the lonely bridal figure snuffed out, leaving the club in darkness. The crowd cheered with a near reverent fervor.
And thus ended the sixteenth night of Club Wonderland's new line up of dancers.