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Apr. 7th, 2008 04:34 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
kaiyabeck.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
kh_drabbleChallenge: [143] Style
Title: Technique
Word Count: 583
Notes: There I go again, pushing the envelope. *sigh* I’ll write something shorter someday, just watch. Anyway, I’ve always been fascinated by the Dancers, and I was inspired to write this after seeing a fan art of Demyx swinging one of them around. (I take no responsibility for any odd pairings that may arise from this.)
Title: Technique
Word Count: 583
Notes: There I go again, pushing the envelope. *sigh* I’ll write something shorter someday, just watch. Anyway, I’ve always been fascinated by the Dancers, and I was inspired to write this after seeing a fan art of Demyx swinging one of them around. (I take no responsibility for any odd pairings that may arise from this.)
B enjoys being a Dancer.
She likes her lithe, graceful body, which is perfect for performing some of the moves that are required of her. She likes that her sisters look exactly like her. And even though B can’t remember what her original sex had been, she likes being female.
Most of all, though, she likes it when her Lord practices with them. She watches him sometimes, playing his sitar while she and her sisters dance. Sometimes he is fully immersed in the music he is making, but other times he’ll look up and smile as he watches them cavort about the room. B likes to think he is smiling at her.
The practice is different today. Lord Demyx has instructed them to partner up, and he begins playing a jaunty tune that B and her sisters immediately pick up with almost gleeful relish. B struggles to keep pace with A, one of the older Dancers. If A had possessed a heart, she would have been described as headstrong and vain-- always wanting to do things her own way. B feels the faintest flicker of annoyance as A treads on her foot for the third time. She looks over at her Lord, wondering if he has noticed the disobedience, but he is focused on his playing. B wishes he would glance up at them-- not only to catch A at her game, but also so that B can see those eyes of his, those beautiful sky-blue eyes that make her imagine she can feel something stirring in the place where her heart would be...
A uses her sister’s distraction to her advantage. Letting go of B’s hands, she suddenly darts away, whirling and turning like a dervish as her feet stamp out a rhythm to the sitar’s music. Caught off-guard and without a partner, B can only stand and watch as A completely steals the spotlight from the others. Now her Lord is watching, his eyes riveted to A’s fluid movements. “Heyyy...” he drawls, and the note of admiration in his voice nearly causes B physical pain. “I’ve never seen that from you guys before. Nice improv!” A bows with flourish at Lord Demyx’s high praise and sashays back to B, taking her hands again. B doesn’t think she’s imagining the little smirk on A’s face, almost as if she is saying, “Quit wasting your time-- we all know who our Lord prefers.” B buries the resentment she feels, determined not to let her animosity spoil the dance. She can bear A’s theatrics, she thinks, for the sake of Lord Demyx...
A steps on her foot again, and this time it seems almost deliberate.
Before she even knows she is going to do it, B grips A tightly by the forearms and wheels her around with blinding speed. A utters a shrill screech of surprise as she is suddenly airborne, crashing into the wall with a satisfying thud. The music abruptly stops, and B’s vindication quickly turns to dread as she realizes that all attention is focused on her. She fights to suppress a cringe as she hears Lord Demyx’s footsteps approaching her. “Whoops...” he says casually, chuckling a little. “Got a little carried away, there.” B waits for the blow to fall. Isn’t he going to punish her? Hesitantly she ventures a look at him and realizes that he isn’t angry. His brow is furrowed, one finger against his lips in silent contemplation.
“Y'know, I think we can use that...”
She likes her lithe, graceful body, which is perfect for performing some of the moves that are required of her. She likes that her sisters look exactly like her. And even though B can’t remember what her original sex had been, she likes being female.
Most of all, though, she likes it when her Lord practices with them. She watches him sometimes, playing his sitar while she and her sisters dance. Sometimes he is fully immersed in the music he is making, but other times he’ll look up and smile as he watches them cavort about the room. B likes to think he is smiling at her.
The practice is different today. Lord Demyx has instructed them to partner up, and he begins playing a jaunty tune that B and her sisters immediately pick up with almost gleeful relish. B struggles to keep pace with A, one of the older Dancers. If A had possessed a heart, she would have been described as headstrong and vain-- always wanting to do things her own way. B feels the faintest flicker of annoyance as A treads on her foot for the third time. She looks over at her Lord, wondering if he has noticed the disobedience, but he is focused on his playing. B wishes he would glance up at them-- not only to catch A at her game, but also so that B can see those eyes of his, those beautiful sky-blue eyes that make her imagine she can feel something stirring in the place where her heart would be...
A uses her sister’s distraction to her advantage. Letting go of B’s hands, she suddenly darts away, whirling and turning like a dervish as her feet stamp out a rhythm to the sitar’s music. Caught off-guard and without a partner, B can only stand and watch as A completely steals the spotlight from the others. Now her Lord is watching, his eyes riveted to A’s fluid movements. “Heyyy...” he drawls, and the note of admiration in his voice nearly causes B physical pain. “I’ve never seen that from you guys before. Nice improv!” A bows with flourish at Lord Demyx’s high praise and sashays back to B, taking her hands again. B doesn’t think she’s imagining the little smirk on A’s face, almost as if she is saying, “Quit wasting your time-- we all know who our Lord prefers.” B buries the resentment she feels, determined not to let her animosity spoil the dance. She can bear A’s theatrics, she thinks, for the sake of Lord Demyx...
A steps on her foot again, and this time it seems almost deliberate.
Before she even knows she is going to do it, B grips A tightly by the forearms and wheels her around with blinding speed. A utters a shrill screech of surprise as she is suddenly airborne, crashing into the wall with a satisfying thud. The music abruptly stops, and B’s vindication quickly turns to dread as she realizes that all attention is focused on her. She fights to suppress a cringe as she hears Lord Demyx’s footsteps approaching her. “Whoops...” he says casually, chuckling a little. “Got a little carried away, there.” B waits for the blow to fall. Isn’t he going to punish her? Hesitantly she ventures a look at him and realizes that he isn’t angry. His brow is furrowed, one finger against his lips in silent contemplation.
“Y'know, I think we can use that...”
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