(Untitled)

[fakejaded]

Britta waits until no one's around before she makes her way into the dance studio. At mid-afternoon on a Friday, she has the room free, the place empty until the evening class unless someone turns up to practice, and she prefers it that way for now. While she's been getting steadily better under River's tutelage (that girl is one intense taskmaster

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[apoorupbringing]

Chase had been heading out to find someone to hit- preferably Sirius, because the guy had the right equipment (a thought he had to re-examine the wording of, then figured he'd been spending too much time with Manwitch)- when he saw a blond girl in the doorway of what he was like at least seventy percent sure was the dance studio.

Not that he would ever have had an actual reason to go into it or know what it was, but you could only live on an island that small for that long before you just knew. Freaking everyone. Except this chick. He had his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned and his hands his shoved in his cargo shorts, looking for all the world like he'd just spent a few hours doing something typically beachy. This was because he'd been surfing. So clearly, he chose her own attire to comment on.

"Nice spandex," he told her.

[fakejaded]

Britta scoffed, brow arching, though he didn't seem to mean it too harshly. "Thanks," she said wryly. "Nice hair." Salt water could really do a number on hair. Some guys wore it well. This one - well, he looked like Zac Efron and that point only worked in his favor for Annie. At least he looked like he belonged around here, though; he had that on his side. Lucky him. In spandex or her usual attire, she never quite fit in.

[apoorupbringing]

"Thanks, I grew it myself," Chase replied. He ambled over and stuck his head through the door, past her.

"You're a dancer?"

[fakejaded]

"I am," Britta said, nodding. That was probably a stretch, admittedly, since she knew she was absolutely an amateur, but whatever, she danced, she had been dancing, she was a dancer. Not making a crack about high school musicals was incredibly difficult right now but she was trying really hard to be sensitive to the fictional population of the island. "Ballet. It's something to do."

[jdick]

Joe had been playing his guitar on the beach -- something he did more and more often these days, when he didn't have a hell of a lot else to fill his time -- and he was heading home, guitar slung across his back, when he saw someone in door of the dance studio.

"Hey," he said, because it was fucking rude to not at least say hi to someone, especially when he was passing so damn close. "Good class?" Maybe she wasn't taking a class, but he didn't fucking know.

[fakejaded]

"Oh, there's no class now," Britta said, but she nodded anyway. "It's a good class, though, yeah. Nice guitar." She'd always liked musicians - dating them, mostly, since she still wasn't really equipped to play anything herself. That was something she needed to change if they were ever gonna get this band off the ground.

[jdick]

"Great guitar," Joe corrected with a smirk, because if there was anything on this island he loved more than the people, it was his guitar. There were a few in his hut now, collected from people who'd disappeared, but none of them were as good as his own. "Old fucking guitar, too, I'm surprised it hasn't fallen apart in the heat yet."

It had been here for five years, but he took good care of it, making sure the humidity didn't get too bad.

[fakejaded]

"Yeah, I bet," Britta said, pushing off the doorway to walk closer. "Jeez, you must take great care of it. I don't even play and I can't imagine - in this humidity?" She shook her head. It would have been nice to know how - there was something she really liked about the guitar - but even with the plans for the band in place, she wasn't sure she was cut out to actually play anything, so much as just go to concerts.

[scotsfriction]

Most of the time, Amy spent her days sort of messing about. There was nothing wrong with that per se, it just had a habit of being a bit boring. That was why she had started coming up with ways (most of them of the exceptionally odd variety) to keep herself busy. One of those ways meant strolling about the island, seeing what she could stumble upon. Moving helped a lot because even if she couldn't leave the pair of islands then she could at least be about and about doing something.

Spotting the blonde in the doorway of what she was fairly certain was the dance studio, Amy lifted her hand and waved. It would make sense that it was, given how the girl was dressed though one couldn't be certain. Some people wore the strangest things.

"Hullo there. Going to bust a move or something?" she asked with a laugh.

[fakejaded]

"Already did," Britta deadpanned. Maybe it would be best if she slipped back inside and changed, before the next person to wander past turned out to be Jeff or Annie. She wasn't just going to walk off, though. Leaning in the doorway like this, she sort of missed smoking, though she knew it was just as well she couldn't indulge that broken habit now; the last thing she needed was that particular mental image of Pierce that now accompanied the taste of tobacco. "Sorry, you totally missed the show."

[scotsfriction]

With a laugh and an easy shrug, Amy lifted her eyebrows slightly as she considered it. "Shame. Suppose there's always next time isn't there?" she joked the smile on her face easily dismissing any sort of misinterpretation of her words.

There had to be some sort of show that the dancers did and of course, Amy would likely go and see it. Yet another thing to do to combat the stir-crazy sentiment. "Do you take classes or just faff about for fun?"

[fakejaded]

"Little of both," Britta said, smiling a bit more genuinely now. It was nice to have someone display any kind of actual interest, even if the woman in question was probably ten times more beautiful and, Britta imagined, didn't need classes to look good if she danced - and if she did, guys probably just thought that was so cute. Either way, it was good not to have to be on the defensive about this. "I'm in the ballet class, but there isn't one today. I was just practicing. I... need the practice. What about you?"

[weary_head]

Dean's a long way from home, but it feels, if not good, better, breaking out of his old routines, not going home after the Clinic to an empty bed, but elsewhere. He's chosen the beach today, intent on watching the sunset, but he pauses on his way when he sees a bright blonde head ducking into a door.

"Britta?"

[fakejaded]

It should only be embarrassing with the people who knew her at Greendale, but even so, Britta's eyes widen when she turns and spots Dean. "Hi," she says, and she's thankful she at least has shorts on over the leotard as she lifts a hand in greeting. "How... 's it going?" It's just ballet, not everyone makes fun of people for dancing - it's just people like Jeff, really, right?

[weary_head]

"Hey. This your place?" Dean asks, but no, it can't be, built too differently from the other huts. Dean's passed by it many times, but he's never been inclined to look closer until now.

Britta's outfit provides him no clues, Dean too grossly removed from the world of dance to recognize the garment as anything but stretchy, and he tilts his head. "What building's this?"

[fakejaded]

"It's the dance studio," Britta says, a hint of reluctance in her tone even as she smiles, stepping back and waving inside for him to take a look. "River, she, uh, got it for Christmas one year, I think? She teaches ballet." He's not going to laugh at her, she decides. Why shouldn't she dance if she wants to?

[oscaroscaroscar]

Felix was never one to make a habit out of skipping meals, but fresh from his Cardio class, with his blood still pumping in his veins, he wasn't quite ready to pack it in for the day and head to lunch just yet. Too sore to do anything too strenuous, he figured a bit of stretching down at the dance studio would be just the thing, so after a quick change out of his fitness gear and into a bright red leotard, he headed on over, happily exclaiming when he saw that he wasn't the only one to get the dancing bug into him that day.

"Britta!" he called as he burst through the door. "Mixing it up a little today, are we?"

[fakejaded]

Britta let out a little yelp as she came to a stop, arms waving for balance. "Yes," she said, nodding, more careful than she needed to be. "Yes, I am. It's... good to experiment and get comfortable with the different moves, am I right? You, uh... planning to practice, Felix?"

There were a lot of ways he reminded her distinctly of Dean Pelton, although he was, thankfully, somewhat less creepy, as well as less likely to wear sequins.

[oscaroscaroscar]

"You can never get to much of it," Felix replied as he pulled on his shoes and made his way over to the wall to began stretching, pausing awkwardly once his leg was propped up on the beam. "Although I suppose that's not entirely true, now is it? You could always hurt yourself or develop unhealthy fixations and eating disorders as a result. But what are the odds of that happening?"

[fakejaded]

"Pretty high, actually," Britta said. "I mean, I think so anyway, if you, if you push yourself too much. But it's not like we're trying to be prima ballerinas or professionals or whatever, so I think we're safe." She enjoyed it, yeah, but she wasn't about to push herself that hard. Even if she did, she knew she'd probably just quit in a week anyway.