[wm] 98.5.E - Photo prompt (dancers)
NOTE: Stephanie is effiecat and used with permission and love, Channing is what_its_not and mine to do with as I see fit. :P
“No!! Damn it, you two, I’m gonna stomp a mudhole in your butts and walk it dry, we ditched the jetè after the backflip! Do it right!!”
He tried as hard as he could to stifle the laugh that bubbled up, but he was caught as Stephanie spun around to face him, the picture of petite rage with her hands on her hips in the middle of the dance studio.
“Just what the hell’s so funny, Tormy?”
“Uh oh, now I know I’m in trouble.” He quipped, smirking as she scowled at him. “Sorry, babe, just…that crack loses something in translation when you say ‘butts’ instead of ‘asses.’”
“Hardy har, you think you’re so cute…next time, I’m gonna let these two smack you around for real. C’mon, you lollygaggers, do it again. Anton, go back to the corner. Harvey, get over here…Tommy, take your place.”
“Channing, you hired a slave driver!” Tommy pretended to complain as Stephanie stomped over to grab his hand and tug him to his mark in the middle of the dance floor.
“Someone has to keep you renegades in line when I’m not around.” Channing giggled from her seat in the corner.
Eyeing her balefully, Tommy planted himself where Stephanie positioned him and sighed, rolling his shoulders and settling in. “Okay…from the top?”
“Pretty please?”
“See? Catch more flies with honey than ya do with vinegar.” He teased, planting a friendly kiss on top of her head when she hugged him before stepping back. Still grinning, he shook his arms to loosen them as the other two dancers reset themselves to begin the routine again. He was more than a little intimidated, being in this studio and actually learning to dance, especially after watching the way Stephanie and her fellow dancers moved and glided like they were made of liquid light instead of flesh and bone.
The music cued again, filling the room with pulsing synthesizers as the two men leapt into the air and all but remained there, writhing and leaping in a twisted frenzy of movement that told the tale of warring armies…good versus evil, darkness versus light, The Avatar versus Channing Vale. He could even pick out sides based on movement, identifying Anton as being one of Channing’s with the proud line of his head and shoulders, the regal sweep of his arms and legs as he glided across the floor. Harvey, The Avatar’s man, moved with more arrogance, violence in razor sharp lines of his arms and legs as he leapt into the air and sent Anton cowering to the floor.
He paid attention to the movement, the feel of the music and the physical lines Harvey used when the music changed and his cue came. As Anton rose up and overpowered Harvey, Tommy took a deep breath and surged forward, his footsteps echoing sharply in the room with a violent slap of bare flesh on hardwood. The hardest part and the biggest part of his focus went to making sure he moved properly, grabbing Anton’s arm and pulling his punch as he struck the other man down with a harsh theatrical blow.
There was no connection, but Anton reeled perfectly and fell at his feet. Relief washed through Tommy, enough to let him relax and fall away, fall into the beat pulsing through his ears and into his blood. He let the chords drive his arms up as he threw his head back, posing victoriously while the two male dancers scrambled around him, cowering at the feet of The Avatar. Below him, he knew Anton now moved with the same brutality as Harvey, playing the role of the converted foot soldier, loyal to The Avatar alone…
The moves he’d been agonizing over for days came to him in an instant as he spun and bent, reaching for Anton’s throat to draw him to his feet. Both men flanked him as he drew his elbows sharply into his sides and stepped forward, spreading his hands at the forearm without bringing his arms out from his body. It was a tight, dramatically compact pose that matched the resonant echoes of the music as it died.
“Hold for applause, hold for applause…Anton, Harvey, fade out…hold for applause…”
The male dancers glided away, leaving Tommy to stand alone. His heart was still racing, his blood still singing as he blocked out the urge to crumble, to back down from the spotlight as he stood in the center of the floor, alone…
“…and cut, print, oh my God Tommy you were so GOOD!!”
Laughing, Tommy caught Stephanie as she took a flying leap to hug him warmly. “Careful, babe, we both got sig others that might get jealous.”
“They’re not here, and Kyle knows you’re too squishy not to hug, I told him.” She laughed, drawing back to beam at him. “This calls for lunch. My treat…CPK, anyone?”
“Got my vote.” Channing agreed with a satisfied sigh as she stood to join them. “I’m starving…and I’m paying.”
“Nuh uh! I said my treat!”
“I know, sweetie, but I like to be the nice boss! Let me, will you?”
“Chaaaa-nniiiing…”
Tommy just laughed as the two women argued like sisters, stooping to grab his shoes from beside the wall as he followed them out of the studio with his dancing acolytes trailing at his heels.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 898
“No!! Damn it, you two, I’m gonna stomp a mudhole in your butts and walk it dry, we ditched the jetè after the backflip! Do it right!!”
He tried as hard as he could to stifle the laugh that bubbled up, but he was caught as Stephanie spun around to face him, the picture of petite rage with her hands on her hips in the middle of the dance studio.
“Just what the hell’s so funny, Tormy?”
“Uh oh, now I know I’m in trouble.” He quipped, smirking as she scowled at him. “Sorry, babe, just…that crack loses something in translation when you say ‘butts’ instead of ‘asses.’”
“Hardy har, you think you’re so cute…next time, I’m gonna let these two smack you around for real. C’mon, you lollygaggers, do it again. Anton, go back to the corner. Harvey, get over here…Tommy, take your place.”
“Channing, you hired a slave driver!” Tommy pretended to complain as Stephanie stomped over to grab his hand and tug him to his mark in the middle of the dance floor.
“Someone has to keep you renegades in line when I’m not around.” Channing giggled from her seat in the corner.
Eyeing her balefully, Tommy planted himself where Stephanie positioned him and sighed, rolling his shoulders and settling in. “Okay…from the top?”
“Pretty please?”
“See? Catch more flies with honey than ya do with vinegar.” He teased, planting a friendly kiss on top of her head when she hugged him before stepping back. Still grinning, he shook his arms to loosen them as the other two dancers reset themselves to begin the routine again. He was more than a little intimidated, being in this studio and actually learning to dance, especially after watching the way Stephanie and her fellow dancers moved and glided like they were made of liquid light instead of flesh and bone.
The music cued again, filling the room with pulsing synthesizers as the two men leapt into the air and all but remained there, writhing and leaping in a twisted frenzy of movement that told the tale of warring armies…good versus evil, darkness versus light, The Avatar versus Channing Vale. He could even pick out sides based on movement, identifying Anton as being one of Channing’s with the proud line of his head and shoulders, the regal sweep of his arms and legs as he glided across the floor. Harvey, The Avatar’s man, moved with more arrogance, violence in razor sharp lines of his arms and legs as he leapt into the air and sent Anton cowering to the floor.
He paid attention to the movement, the feel of the music and the physical lines Harvey used when the music changed and his cue came. As Anton rose up and overpowered Harvey, Tommy took a deep breath and surged forward, his footsteps echoing sharply in the room with a violent slap of bare flesh on hardwood. The hardest part and the biggest part of his focus went to making sure he moved properly, grabbing Anton’s arm and pulling his punch as he struck the other man down with a harsh theatrical blow.
There was no connection, but Anton reeled perfectly and fell at his feet. Relief washed through Tommy, enough to let him relax and fall away, fall into the beat pulsing through his ears and into his blood. He let the chords drive his arms up as he threw his head back, posing victoriously while the two male dancers scrambled around him, cowering at the feet of The Avatar. Below him, he knew Anton now moved with the same brutality as Harvey, playing the role of the converted foot soldier, loyal to The Avatar alone…
The moves he’d been agonizing over for days came to him in an instant as he spun and bent, reaching for Anton’s throat to draw him to his feet. Both men flanked him as he drew his elbows sharply into his sides and stepped forward, spreading his hands at the forearm without bringing his arms out from his body. It was a tight, dramatically compact pose that matched the resonant echoes of the music as it died.
“Hold for applause, hold for applause…Anton, Harvey, fade out…hold for applause…”
The male dancers glided away, leaving Tommy to stand alone. His heart was still racing, his blood still singing as he blocked out the urge to crumble, to back down from the spotlight as he stood in the center of the floor, alone…
“…and cut, print, oh my God Tommy you were so GOOD!!”
Laughing, Tommy caught Stephanie as she took a flying leap to hug him warmly. “Careful, babe, we both got sig others that might get jealous.”
“They’re not here, and Kyle knows you’re too squishy not to hug, I told him.” She laughed, drawing back to beam at him. “This calls for lunch. My treat…CPK, anyone?”
“Got my vote.” Channing agreed with a satisfied sigh as she stood to join them. “I’m starving…and I’m paying.”
“Nuh uh! I said my treat!”
“I know, sweetie, but I like to be the nice boss! Let me, will you?”
“Chaaaa-nniiiing…”
Tommy just laughed as the two women argued like sisters, stooping to grab his shoes from beside the wall as he followed them out of the studio with his dancing acolytes trailing at his heels.
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 898