Post by Deleted on Oct 16, 2015 9:05:02 GMT
"Seems like as good a place as any." The air was pleasant and fresh as it gently breezed through the street, a dispersed crowd spreading out and moving about the footpaths aimlessly, making the area seem more populated than it actually was. The sun was fairly high in the sky, signaling it was almost noon, which also meant the street was decently illuminated, the shadows of the overgrown buildings nearby being kept at bay. Dorian had spent all morning searching for somewhere to start, and though the audience wasn't as small as he'd have liked, the location was as good as he was going to get. Besides, more people meant more gold. How was he getting this gold, you ask? "Time to get to work," Dorian mumbled, his eyes drifting to look at the measly 1 that lit up on his interface beside his subclass label 'Dancer'.
Finding a suitable spot on the footpath, positioned directly in front of one of the overgrown buildings to set it up as a backdrop, Dorian began preparing himself, unlatching the leather of the strap that wrapped around his torso, holding up the scabbard on his back. Once he had neatly propped the equipment up against the building's wall, he stood firm and rigid in front of the building, taking in his surroundings. As he looked back and forth along the street in front of him, he began to do some gentle stretches, waking up the muscles in his arms by pressing them together in a perpendicular pose, moving from one side to the other to put the same pressure on both of his limbs. Once he was done with his arms, he bent forward completely, keeping his knees straight as he stretched down to touch his toes. Drawing himself back up, he dusted his attire off with his palms, removing any creases and crinkles in the fabric of his 'cloth armour'.
Normally, he'd prefer to dance to music, but unfortunately, supplies were limited at this time, so Dorian had to make do. Maybe in the future he could bring a Bard with him, but for now, he searched his mind for a song to produce to himself telepathically, picking out a fast-paced ditty. Taking in a slow breath of air, he gave the area one last glance before throwing his arms outwards in a sudden flash of motion, and releasing the air from his lungs outwards. "Showtime," he muttered to himself quietly.
Beginning his dance, he turned himself towards the side, bending his knees to lower his arm toward the floor and bring it upwards in a long, drawn out, fluid motion, cresting just above his head as the music began to pick up. Turning suddenly to the front, he split his feet apart, throwing his hands out to his left and reeling them in together as if pulling on a rope. Repeating this once more, he then moved to put his right arm out toward his side, keeping in time with the music as he began swinging his outer leg back and forth, toward his front, then toward his back, his other arm beating swinging across his body as if swirling around a whip, beating on invisible drums either side of his form. Moving into the last bit of the first pick up, he face the front once more, swishing his arms in front of him flamboyantly with his upper torso bent downwards, his feet shuffling from side to side with the motion. Before long, he moved back into the position before, leaning back on his right arm as he swung his leg and fist back and forth and from side to side respectively.
Picking up a second time, he shifted forward, moving fluidly into a horse stance with his feet, his knees bent as he began throwing his palms outwards in quick motions; left, right, left, left... right, left, right, right... left, right, left, left... Between each repeat of these three palm motions, he would spin his upper body around, his lower half remaining rigid in its place as he threw his hands out to add to the momentum, before returning to the palmed motions once more. Moving into the next, slower paced part of the song, his threw both arms downwards along his thighs, slowly bringing them upwards into a spread out eagle formation, before bringing them down over his head and balling his hands into fists to grind gently against the air. Hopefully that dance move wasn't too provocative for the Landers tastes that had begun encircling him since he began.
With a few more slow tugs upon the imaginary rope to his right, the beat once again picked up drawing him into a new dance move. Swapping his feet behind each other back and forth, side to side, he pumped his palms downward towards the floor, keeping both motions in time with each other, as well as the music he had in his brain. Despite the fact he would probably look rather stupid without music, he was in his own little world now, enjoying the chance to let his body do the work. Once again moving into the rope tugging, he pulled himself up with the momentum to turn on the spot, his side facing the crowd as he flexed his arms by his sides, waving the rest of his body in its place like a wave was moving from his feet to his head.
The music picking up quickly, he began to move into more jerky movements, leaping off the ground to throw his fist twice over towards the footpath below, as if firing laser beams from his hands. Hopping on one foot, he threw his hands up behind him in a double motion, as if shaking a basket over his head. He repeated these two motions a second time - fist thrown, basket shaken - as the music moved into a faster tempo, bringing him to begin swiping his hands, one after the other, across his front, in a wild show, a flamboyant display. Stepping out, he began walking in a tight circle on the spot, throwing his arms gently and fluidly upwards, one after the other, either side of his body. By now, he was beginning to overexert himself, his breathing becoming heavy as the dancing moved on. Spotting the time to finish, he stepped forward towards the crowd, throwing his arms up and down like a sharks jaw opening and closing, before spinning them around and throwing them back out from his sides. With his arms out wide, he gave a gentle bow, his form slumping backwards to rest up against the building behind him as the crowd applauded. "Not bad, Dorian. Not bad."
Notes: N/A
Words: 1118
Tags: N/A
Dance Music: Spontaneous Me
Finding a suitable spot on the footpath, positioned directly in front of one of the overgrown buildings to set it up as a backdrop, Dorian began preparing himself, unlatching the leather of the strap that wrapped around his torso, holding up the scabbard on his back. Once he had neatly propped the equipment up against the building's wall, he stood firm and rigid in front of the building, taking in his surroundings. As he looked back and forth along the street in front of him, he began to do some gentle stretches, waking up the muscles in his arms by pressing them together in a perpendicular pose, moving from one side to the other to put the same pressure on both of his limbs. Once he was done with his arms, he bent forward completely, keeping his knees straight as he stretched down to touch his toes. Drawing himself back up, he dusted his attire off with his palms, removing any creases and crinkles in the fabric of his 'cloth armour'.
Normally, he'd prefer to dance to music, but unfortunately, supplies were limited at this time, so Dorian had to make do. Maybe in the future he could bring a Bard with him, but for now, he searched his mind for a song to produce to himself telepathically, picking out a fast-paced ditty. Taking in a slow breath of air, he gave the area one last glance before throwing his arms outwards in a sudden flash of motion, and releasing the air from his lungs outwards. "Showtime," he muttered to himself quietly.
Beginning his dance, he turned himself towards the side, bending his knees to lower his arm toward the floor and bring it upwards in a long, drawn out, fluid motion, cresting just above his head as the music began to pick up. Turning suddenly to the front, he split his feet apart, throwing his hands out to his left and reeling them in together as if pulling on a rope. Repeating this once more, he then moved to put his right arm out toward his side, keeping in time with the music as he began swinging his outer leg back and forth, toward his front, then toward his back, his other arm beating swinging across his body as if swirling around a whip, beating on invisible drums either side of his form. Moving into the last bit of the first pick up, he face the front once more, swishing his arms in front of him flamboyantly with his upper torso bent downwards, his feet shuffling from side to side with the motion. Before long, he moved back into the position before, leaning back on his right arm as he swung his leg and fist back and forth and from side to side respectively.
Picking up a second time, he shifted forward, moving fluidly into a horse stance with his feet, his knees bent as he began throwing his palms outwards in quick motions; left, right, left, left... right, left, right, right... left, right, left, left... Between each repeat of these three palm motions, he would spin his upper body around, his lower half remaining rigid in its place as he threw his hands out to add to the momentum, before returning to the palmed motions once more. Moving into the next, slower paced part of the song, his threw both arms downwards along his thighs, slowly bringing them upwards into a spread out eagle formation, before bringing them down over his head and balling his hands into fists to grind gently against the air. Hopefully that dance move wasn't too provocative for the Landers tastes that had begun encircling him since he began.
With a few more slow tugs upon the imaginary rope to his right, the beat once again picked up drawing him into a new dance move. Swapping his feet behind each other back and forth, side to side, he pumped his palms downward towards the floor, keeping both motions in time with each other, as well as the music he had in his brain. Despite the fact he would probably look rather stupid without music, he was in his own little world now, enjoying the chance to let his body do the work. Once again moving into the rope tugging, he pulled himself up with the momentum to turn on the spot, his side facing the crowd as he flexed his arms by his sides, waving the rest of his body in its place like a wave was moving from his feet to his head.
The music picking up quickly, he began to move into more jerky movements, leaping off the ground to throw his fist twice over towards the footpath below, as if firing laser beams from his hands. Hopping on one foot, he threw his hands up behind him in a double motion, as if shaking a basket over his head. He repeated these two motions a second time - fist thrown, basket shaken - as the music moved into a faster tempo, bringing him to begin swiping his hands, one after the other, across his front, in a wild show, a flamboyant display. Stepping out, he began walking in a tight circle on the spot, throwing his arms gently and fluidly upwards, one after the other, either side of his body. By now, he was beginning to overexert himself, his breathing becoming heavy as the dancing moved on. Spotting the time to finish, he stepped forward towards the crowd, throwing his arms up and down like a sharks jaw opening and closing, before spinning them around and throwing them back out from his sides. With his arms out wide, he gave a gentle bow, his form slumping backwards to rest up against the building behind him as the crowd applauded. "Not bad, Dorian. Not bad."
Notes: N/A
Words: 1118
Tags: N/A
Dance Music: Spontaneous Me
