ArchivedLogs:In Which Some Different Moves Are Practiced And Some Future Shining Is Planned, With Or Without Music

In Which Some Different Moves Are Practiced And Some Future Shining Is Planned, With Or Without Music
Dramatis Personae Desi, Taylor
In Absentia	2017-05-17 "It is /quite/ something, no?"
Location <NYC> Evolve Nightclub - Lower East Side
Accessible up a flight of stairs from the coffeeshop below, Evolve's nightclub is only open Thursday-Sunday nights. The bar stretches wide along the back wall, polished dark wood with an abundance of drinks available behind, their selection none too high-end. A balcony overlooks the dancefloor, filled with plush black and green couches and armchairs and small black-wood and glass tables between them. The stark white and black walls encourage graffiti, paint markers of all shades hung around the walls by chains. Though the rest of Evolve is doing healthy business for a weekday evening, the nightclub is closed. What's eerie about is that it is /not/ dark, or silent, or empty. The dance floor is well-lit by the lights that usually only come on when the staff is trying to kick people out come closing time. The sound system plays the jagged beats and rapid-fire defiance of Angel Haze's 'Impossible'. Desi is leaning back against the bar, the fingers of one hand tapping thoughtfully at the side of her head to the beat of the music, that elbow propped in the palm of her other hand. She wears a light green spaghetti strap tank, a long, gauzy, flared hunter green skirt, silvery satin elbow-length gloves, and matching silver sandals with satin ribbon straps that crisscross her calves. She nods every so often, and steps forward as the track draws toward a close. "Looking quite excellent. If I had to nitpick, I'd suggest a little more airtime at the end of the hook." In black mesh shorts, white sneakers. a sleeveless undershirt that, adjusted for all his arms is really more hole than shirt, Taylor has worked up quite a sweat. As the song fades and he gets back to his feet, he plucks with one slim tendril at the damp front of his shirt, another arm wiping at his forehead as he nods at Desi's advice. Leaning back, his topple is in slooow motion -- two of his midsize arms arcing back to brace his fall, hit the ground, lift him off his feet and into a back handspring that lingers a moment at the top of his flip. "More like that, maybe?" Desi raises her knuckles to her lips, vivid green eyes intent. It's only when Taylor has finished demonstrating and spoken again that she nods once, firmly. "Exactly. That looks just splendid." A formless half-thought half-emotion surfaces in her mind--not envy, as such, but something akin, if more wistful. "The hesitation at the apex should fall on one of the 'skipped' beats, so it'll stand out." She snags a water bottle that had been sitting on a stool and holds it out to Taylor. "How are you feeling about the routine, though?" Taylor reaches to pluck the water bottle from Desi well before actually approaching her, one long arm stretching easily across the distance. He takes a long swig, then ambles across the floor to hop up onto the stool where the bottle had been. "I don't know. I mean, I think it's solid. I think it's -- a fuck ton more polished than before you were helping me, /that's/ for /damn/ sure." There's an uncertainty in his voice, though. Measured, pensive. His arm flexes, tightening slowly and relaxing around the water bottle, uncoiling in a languid stretch and passing the bottle to an arm above it. "Can I credit you, anyway? You been working hard here, too." "I'm glad to have been of assistance." Desi walks back toward the dance floor, but stops short of it, tracing the toe of one silver sandal along its very edge in a graceful balletic arc. She does not answer at once--at least not aloud. << I'm sure there are plenty of humans who have worked in various supporting roles to artists in this festival. It would not be so very peculiar... >> "If you would like, but I'm happy enough just to help lift you up." The corner of her mouth twitches. "So to speak." "I won't if it'll make you uncomfortable, but --" Taylor's eyes follow after Desi. "I mean there are a crapton of humans helping out some way or other. Even my sibs are planning on coming in early to help with setup. It's just --" This time his pause is longer. Punctuated with a swig of water. "I've always just danced for friends before, you know? Or my family. Random school shit, whatever. This is like -- /something/. Something big. I know you're at fancy-ass dance school and you're going to have /mad/ opportunities for big shit coming down the pipeline but how many of them will be for us? By us? You know?" Desi shakes her head. "I'm not...uncomfortable. In fact, I would appreciate it." She pivots on her trailing foot to face Taylor. "It's lovely that your siblings will be coming, though!" The excitement goes from her expression down through her flitting thoughts. "They'll get to see your performance, which will be splendid, I'm certain." Her expression softs. "It is /quite/ something, no? I hope that there will be many more, not just Something Different or the Evolympics, but other events, too." She sighs. << Maybe one day I'll even dance in one. >> "Well, if they're both successful it'll probably open the door to other kinds of events like that." Taylor takes another drink before setting the water aside. He hops down from his stool, slipping over to the edge of the dance floor near Desi. "And you'll shine bright wherever you are, ain't got no doubt. But maybe some day --" One of his arms curls out, extending toward her. "Flattery." But Desi is smiling all the same. << I will shine, school or no. >> She reaches out, hooks one gloved hand around Taylor's arm. "Audience or no." She slides one foot forward and takes a gliding step onto the dance floor. Her eyebrows lift fractionally. "/Music/ or no. Shall we?" "Well. No doubt on /that/ count either. But." One loooooong tentacle stretches across the room. A moment later, the opening of Angel Haze's "Battle Cry" starts up. Taylor's smile is bright as he steps onto the floor, lifts up his arm to twirl Desi underneath it. "You gotta admit, the music helps."