WHO: Rue, Fakir, Duck later, mmmmmaybe a Mytho?
WHERE: Arts academy, practice room.
WHEN: Late Sunday afternoon.
WARNINGS: None as of yet.
SUMMARY: Dancing and snippiness abound.
FORMAT: Paraderps
With the date of their performance fast approaching, for the first time in weeks (or perhaps ever), Fakir danced the Siegfried to Rue's Odile brilliantly. Inside, his heart smoldered with anger and frustration, but it didn't show. His home life may have been a wreck, a close friend murdered, but he danced splendidly.
It was always like this. He would funnel whatever he felt most into whatever he needed to express, turning frustration and anger into the energy of his performance. Years spent performing made it easy to conceal his true feelings and wear the proper expression, to carry himself in just the right way. He had forgotten what it was like to channel his feelings in such a way, and only now realized that his dancing had suffered because of it. He had forced his feelings, forced infatuation and dedication, rather than spinning them out from what he truly felt.
He may have been a more forceful, commanding Prince than Mytho would play, but he danced the part well for his partner and their tiny audience.