meme #004 | slow-dancing ( think outside the boxstep )

[the]

slow dancing ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ a meme → COMMENT WITH YOUR CHARACTER'S NAME, FANDOM, AND PREFERENCE. → PICK A CHARACTER YOU WANT TO TAG AND GO FOR IT. → PLAY NICE; NO WANK, FLAMES, OR GENERAL HUMBUGGERY. ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ the deal FORMAL OR INFORMAL, WITH MUSIC OR WITHOUT, YOU COULD BE AT A GLAMOUROUS GALA WHILE A SINGER CROONS SOFTLY OR IN THE SILENCE OF YOUR OWN LIVING ROOM. WHEREVER YOU ARE, YOU HAVE THE URGE TO DANCE. DID YOU ASK YOUR PARTNER OR DID THEY ASK YOU? HAVE YOU GOT TWO LEFT FEET OR IS THE VIENNESE WALTZ YOUR JAM? IT COULD BE AWKWARD, IT COULD BE ROMANTIC. EITHER WAY IT'S CUTE AS HELL.

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[winterswife]

[she even laughs, a quiet laugh it may be, her dark eyes crinkling at the corners. ]

Who indeed, but her king? [jeyne doesn't tire of learning more of him. in fact each time she discovers something new she smiles quietly when alone and stores it in herself, earnest to please--to have him smile when he would. she wants to make him smile, to hear him laugh--to love him.

it isn't a chore to jeyne to be his wife. learning about him and staying at his side have become treasures to her that she would not trade for warmer weather, or a simpler life, though she is quite certain it would fit her better. jeyne does not feel like much of a queen often, though she does the courtesies, smiles when it is needed and is so gentle she is called soft. warm.

as he laces her fingers through hers she peeks up at him from steady brown eyes, continuing to smile. jeyne pulls him towards the floor with a gentle hand. she pulls back, facing him as she dips into a curtsy, a spark of excitement in her face, her eyes. it is easier now to be open to him as much as it is to notice himself opening up to her.

her voice is light, and almost as if she has read his mind: ]

I confess I do not know all of the proper steps, my lord. So it might be a bit different. [and she looks a little mischievious at that.]

[bello]

Mm, well then I will have to come up with a new one to keep you on your toes.

[He holds her to him, looking down with a light grin as he moves cautiously with his boots, taking care not to trip over her. She's light, much like the apartment, airy, free, happy. It is everything he feels upon entering.]

in which I make up silly reasons for required dancing

[hunt4commonwealth]

"And that's why I'm not off practicing by myself." He ran a hand through his hair.

"In Danaean culture, before negotiations with another tribe begin, the First Warrior and his Brother in Arms must ritually demonstrate their loyalty to each other through this dance. I guess the idea is that a person who isn't loyal even to his own comrades isn't trustworthy enough to negotiate with. It's like a test of honor."

[most_feared]

"Oh... Oh! Yeah." And for the first time ever, he ran across a dilemma as he took Narvin's hand.

He had no idea which one of them was supposed to lead.

"You're suddenly in a mood," he let himself think of that instead. Rarely did Narvin take a romantic turn, but when he did he usually went all out; in his Narviny way.

[truth_is_cold]

The look on Rhade's face could only be described as priceless. Even not knowing the darker implications, what he'd said about Nietzschean culture alone automatically made him skeptical about the situation.

He straightened up slowly.

"Refactions of Dawn won't work with this, either, will they?- Wait," he picks up the flexi and points. "Which one of us is getting dipped after the turn?"

[timesbureaucrat]

Narvin solved Kay's dilemma by putting Kay's hand on his waist.

"Oh, wait just a moment." He took his handheld computer out of his pocket and one-handly pushed a few buttons until it began to play a slow song, then resumed dancing position.

"I simply wanted to try something." His first attempt at traditional human-style seduction was (as he later found out) full of errors. Coffee beans were not an acceptable plant substitute for rose petals. He'd done more research since then. (This time he'd sprinkled the bed with some unfortunately suggestive anthurium flowers. Narvin didn't notice the phallic nature, just that they were flowers and they were red. That's basically like a rose.)

[hunt4commonwealth]

"Refractions can't do it. Her legs aren't jointed quite right to do all the moves. It's you and me, Brother-in-Arms."

He started moving a few pieces of furniture out of the way. They'd need room to practice and he sure wasn't going to practice in the rec room where just anyone could walk by and heckle.

"That's definitely you getting dipped." Actually, he didn't know for certain; he hadn't looked that closely yet. But he hoped it was Gaheris.

[thenorthernwall]

Thank you.

[The music starts to shift. It isn't the sort of rigid, ordered dance she's used to, nothing she's been trained in. Slow, ambling, the song seems to encourage every other couple on the floor to get closer together.

Not... really sure how she feels about this. As if looking for an answer, she seeks out his gaze, one eyebrow slightly cocked.]

[femshep]

[She's been doing her best to avoid dancing, too, although the occasion does find her out of her usual armor. No dress in sight, but it's a start.

She spots the Doctor, and with an amused sort of eyebrow-quirk, she heads his way.

At his comment, she lets out a low chuckle.] Trust me, neither did I.

aw, and Zack's already a heartbreaker

[more_than_words]

What-?

{it's an instinctive response to the situation, the confused reaction to suddenly being lost and - held. She isn't used to being held - she's the one that does the holding - and her hands come up in instinctive warding against it stranger, touching, stronger, danger before her mind even kicks in, head coming up, eyes wide and panicked. The voice is vaguely familiar though, a tickling memory of a guarding presence, and it's the only thing that keeps her from attempting, as quickly and forcefully as necessary, to break out of the hold. She sees the face in front of her but, again, it's only a shadow and a shadow of a memory, unfamiliar in its familiarity and her head turns, trying to see enough to let things make sense.

The sight of too familiar eerie green sends the sick chill down into her stomach and, despite everything, there's a second where it's strong enough to make her huddle into the shadow circle of those arms, striped down to a child's instinctive need for a protector.

That green tried to pick her mind apart, snatching at loose thoughts like unraveling yarn, invading through those lost gaps with whispers that weren't hers and an emptiness that was terrifying.

It's still terrifying and it stalls out any thoughts of fighting her way free of what suddenly seems more safety than threat.}

What's - what's going on?

[beardedveteran]

[ If you're not taking that scoff, sir, then he will, with an unrestrained snort to brush off that minor detail. Who cares about dancing experience? He's got more life experience, and as long as they both know the basics, shouldn't the older guy lead? Not that this has ever been a problem for him before-- the only lady to accept his offer of a dance was happy to follow his perhaps less ballroom than swing-appropriate sense of time, giggled if he fumbled with his feet, almost led him with her words and her touch if he started making excuses about how this really wasn't his kind of thing and she oughtta find a guy who can dance.

Naturally he can't expect the same breaks from his partner now, but at the very least his displeasure is an insult to his own faith in his skills. He isn't an expert by any means, not the way he assumes Barnaby sees himself, but he knows the basics, is so damn intimate with the basics he once practised over and over to be nothing short of decent on that special day that repeating the pattern with such a sense of disharmony in his partner and the surroundings only makes his temper flare. So at the nitpicking orders he grimaces, jerks his chin up with the energy behind a newly-straightened posture to look down his nose at Barnaby, dropping his hands to his sides. For the moment, physically, he doesn't want to have anything more to do with this. ]

Wha-- If you weren't stopping every two seconds I wouldn't be doing any of that stuff! [ -He isn't exactly going to defend each individual point because hell, he's right, but trying to lead Barnaby is like dancing with a store mannequin. What can he do if the resistance is enough to drag on his hands that it's become awkward pulling, that he has to visually pinpoint what Barnaby's doing with his feet so he doesn't unexpectedly trip? Running through these thoughts with a scowl, it-- it feels just like when they first paired up. The arguments are almost similar. But he has to keep trying. That vivid lack of teamwork between the two still fresh in his mind is what stops him snapping his locked gaze away from Barnaby's, immediately at least, his voice lower when he speaks again; after all, they've probably got at least a few onlookers after having raised the volume. ] Can't just stand there and expect dancing to happen just 'cause you're not leading. C'mon, let's give this another shot.

[truth_is_cold]

"You are a terrible sentient being," he said idly as he followed him out to the floor, taking his cue and moving the furniture. At least he wasn't putting too much of a fight.

"My mother made sure that I could dance. But I don't think this is what she had in mind." He rarely mentioned his parents, or his other family members. They existed. And he occasionally brought up his closer siblings, but not often. He didn't know why.

He did know that this would look preposterous to any one of them.

When they were done, he double checked the flexi, before handing it back to Dylan as if it were burning. If he wanted Rhade to take position he was going to have to lead him into position.

[most_feared]

It occurred to him that it had been a while since he did anything particularly romantic; since his carefully planned presentation of the watch. Which he had to get in that port where the damn thing ate him and there was a race and everything was basically a nightmare except that it succeeded.

He grinned, though, that wide grin that made his eyes crinkle at the corner and his cheeks apple up in a surprising way. Just because Narvin was amusingly sentimental.

"What is it that you're wantin' to try?"

[reactivates]

[Claudia doesn't generally make a habit of asking girls to dance, especially since she's only on campus for work, but... Tara's noticeable shyness, as well as awkwardness, were what drew Claudia to her in the first place. Plus, she has some time to spare, it's not as if the artifact she's here looking for is causing too much chaos.

That blurted joke? Yeah, that's almost too close to home, so she ends up laughing at it if only because of the irony.] You know, I always try to keep that in mind when choosing an outfit. Though there are some heels that could probably make pretty decent weapons in that situation, if I didn't have any others on me. [...In fact she has her mini-Tesla, but it's rather small and lodged safely in her pocket, so. No worries?]

[sentiments]

This... [Once up, Barnaby placed a hand gingerly on the side of the device. Just the standing part alone had been a challenge, so he was certain he had reached some sort of victory by the mere fact that he wasn't teetering over where he stood. Well, the longer he was up, the easier it seemed. He hadn't quite reached a state of pure, intoxicated hopelessness, even if he was well on his way to that point. But this? This was fine.

And showing off his stereo? Even better.] A present, from Mr. Maverick.

[Probably one of the best ones he had gotten, although it was more of a mixture of presents. A celebratory welcome-to-your-first-apartment gift, a congratulations for finishing high school, even a growing-up sort of gift for leaving the orphanage. Either way, Maverick had spent some lavish amount of money on it, and it fit quite nicely. Barnaby pressed the on switch, a gentle waltz filling the room.

He smiled at Kotetsu, patting the device again.] Sometimes I just sit there and listen to music for hours. It's... It's hard, thinking about Ouro... Ouro...

[Ouroboros, although Barnaby's mind was already drifting past that.]

Oh, I know this song. I like this song. I think 's Chopin.

[brosif]

I have very sturdy boots.

[She leads them towards the outskirts of the assembled dancers. The less attention drawn to Sif's poor dancing, the better.]

I hope Asgard is finding you well, Jane Foster.

[notbullied]

O-okay. [ But oh god, rhythmic movement!! He looks down at his feet (or tries to, it's a little hard to see when they're close), trying to mimic Ryouta's movements without stepping on him. It's an awkward and stiff swaying motion for him. ]

[astrophysicists]

Oh, yes! [ She'll just follow Sif where she walks, half a step behind. ]

It's amazingly beautiful, and I've learnt so much already.

[instinctiveshooter]

[He touches his lips to her ear before he straightens. He smiles cheekily.]

So handling you on the dance floor will be a breeze.

[theagent]

Handling me, huh? [ She suppresses a shudder at the brief touch of his lips; her voice is steady and just a little challenging though. ]

SO CRUEL

[statusquandry]

"You have many lovely companions." His sigh is content and not the least bit wistful. "I am glad you chose me." Ginshu might have been pretty for a guy, but he was a candle to the sun compared to Ezio's usual company, with their hearts bright and unhampered. They were glorious, beautiful in ways that made him feel like the jaded old man he was. Which was fine, of course, and he begrudged no one their happiness, but... it was still a delightful (if foreign) concept that people would seek out his company like this. Not that he wasn't beloved back home -- hardly, but that was different.

Tsuruume's love for him was a fanatical, obsessive, smothering devotion to the Ginshu, to a pretty figurehead. She was the archetype for all his relationships. He was powerful, beautiful and mysterious: everyone wanted to sink their hooks into him for one reason or another. That attention, that grasping, selfish attention was nothing like this. Ezio is tender with him. He holds Ginshu as though he is something precious, and that floods Ginshu's heart with emotions he can't quite quantify.

"Priestesses rarely get the opportunity to spend time in the company of such handsome men."

[instinctiveshooter]

[Clint's eyes are strong and he feels like the alpha male in the room. ]

Yeah [His voice leaves no room for doubt.] It's my turn to be in charge.

[theagent]

[ Mouth twitching, but she's pliant in his arms. ] Well, then.

[instinctiveshooter]

[Clint waltzes her across the floor.]

You look beautiful when you relax.

[theagent]

[ Leaning her head against his shoulder. ] Thanks.

[ But then, this is Clint. She can't just accept the compliment without adding, tone amused: ] I don't look that different when I'm not relaxed.