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<blockquote data-quote="Demetrious" data-source="post: 2562770"><p>Demetrious smiles gamely and replies "I would be obliged if we could split the cost, but any way we do it my purse is to be allowed to contribute." </p><p></p><p>He pauses.</p><p></p><p>"In my childhood I learned how to dance from my elders. I stayed long into the night with them long after all others my age had long sense drifted away to other pursuits."</p><p></p><p>Demetrious's gaze has shifted to a far off point, but they abruptly refocus on Eriwoj. </p><p></p><p>"Yes, I will show you how I dance. Just, half a moment, if you will."</p><p></p><p>He rises, after removing his leathern armor with Eriwoj's help, and weaves his way through the revelers towards Stardust. He waits for the elf to finish taking a draught from his glass before tapping him on the shoulder and leaning over to his ear. </p><p></p><p>"I agree wholeheartedly. Eriwoj may be getting to his point soon, from what he just said to me. I hope he is- jumping at every shadow is tearing my nerves apart."</p><p></p><p>Demetrious moves to the center of the floor, beaming at the young halfling with the harmonica. He points him to the few other musicians in the room, a old man with a beautiful darkwood viola and two bards who have just arrived and are eagerly pulling out a variety of instruments. He requests that the young halfling play a simple lick to support the musicians in whatever they play, and the halfling eagerly runs over to the table where they are standing.</p><p></p><p>Announcing the dance, Demetrious waits for others in the room to prepare to participate. He then holds his arms at his sides and closes his eyes, staying that way for a good minute and a half. </p><p></p><p>The music starts.</p><p></p><p>A more difficult, but common dance is being played by the mucisians on the nearby table. The young man is awkward at the very start, but soon begins to flow into the forms of the old country dance. Smoothly, but with energy, flitting through the movements with only a moments hesitation. A fast part begins. </p><p></p><p>Demetrious changes.</p><p></p><p>His movements are still smooth, but with more energy, almost <em>too</em> much energy. The forms and motions are still correct, but they have lost the unhurried beauty of before. His dancing is faster now, and still keeping the flowing dance, almost <em>violent.</em> </p><p>The musicians increace their tempo to match the dancer, and the rest of the revelers take note, trying to keep up. But before long, the rest move back, warily eyeing Demetrious as his dance becomes even more energised. </p><p></p><p>The fine polish, the fluidity of the movement is just now starting to disappear, the young mans movements now to violent and swift to continue dancing as before. His movements convey anger. Frustration. Anger. ANGER. </p><p></p><p>The mucicians have stopped. The revelers have stopped. The musicians begin to strike up another tune but it falters and dies. The revelers cheers and encouragement, however, continue. </p><p></p><p>There is nothing gracefull about Demetrious's movements now. They are simply violent, lashing about carelessly. He finally seems to reach a climax, a series of spinning manuvers mixed with kicks and leaps. His exausted panting can now be heard over the supporting crowd.</p><p></p><p>And suddenly, a noise tears from his throat and his entire body seems to lunge forward. </p><p></p><p><em>"ANGA-PAUR!"</em> </p><p></p><p>And then he is panting, lieing on the floor, and patrons of the tavern are picking up peices of what was once a chair off the floor and nearby tabletops. The crowd goes silent with amazement. The taverns owner rushes over to lift the young man off the floor. His chest is still heaving, but he manages "Chair... my purse.... pay for the chair...."</p><p></p><p>The owner laughs as he nods his head in the direction of the door, where even more townsfolk are coming in to sate their curiousity. "If buisness was this good every night, I should pay <em>you!</em> "</p><p></p><p>As they prop him up in a chair, complementing his dancing and speculating on whether or not they can match it, only one thing is running through Demetrious's mind...</p><p></p><p><em>My stupid mouth... oh, not one elf, but TWO! Did they... of COURSE they did... so stupid... so stupid.... </em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Demetrious, post: 2562770"] Demetrious smiles gamely and replies "I would be obliged if we could split the cost, but any way we do it my purse is to be allowed to contribute." He pauses. "In my childhood I learned how to dance from my elders. I stayed long into the night with them long after all others my age had long sense drifted away to other pursuits." Demetrious's gaze has shifted to a far off point, but they abruptly refocus on Eriwoj. "Yes, I will show you how I dance. Just, half a moment, if you will." He rises, after removing his leathern armor with Eriwoj's help, and weaves his way through the revelers towards Stardust. He waits for the elf to finish taking a draught from his glass before tapping him on the shoulder and leaning over to his ear. "I agree wholeheartedly. Eriwoj may be getting to his point soon, from what he just said to me. I hope he is- jumping at every shadow is tearing my nerves apart." Demetrious moves to the center of the floor, beaming at the young halfling with the harmonica. He points him to the few other musicians in the room, a old man with a beautiful darkwood viola and two bards who have just arrived and are eagerly pulling out a variety of instruments. He requests that the young halfling play a simple lick to support the musicians in whatever they play, and the halfling eagerly runs over to the table where they are standing. Announcing the dance, Demetrious waits for others in the room to prepare to participate. He then holds his arms at his sides and closes his eyes, staying that way for a good minute and a half. The music starts. A more difficult, but common dance is being played by the mucisians on the nearby table. The young man is awkward at the very start, but soon begins to flow into the forms of the old country dance. Smoothly, but with energy, flitting through the movements with only a moments hesitation. A fast part begins. Demetrious changes. His movements are still smooth, but with more energy, almost [I]too[/I] much energy. The forms and motions are still correct, but they have lost the unhurried beauty of before. His dancing is faster now, and still keeping the flowing dance, almost [I]violent.[/I] The musicians increace their tempo to match the dancer, and the rest of the revelers take note, trying to keep up. But before long, the rest move back, warily eyeing Demetrious as his dance becomes even more energised. The fine polish, the fluidity of the movement is just now starting to disappear, the young mans movements now to violent and swift to continue dancing as before. His movements convey anger. Frustration. Anger. ANGER. The mucicians have stopped. The revelers have stopped. The musicians begin to strike up another tune but it falters and dies. The revelers cheers and encouragement, however, continue. There is nothing gracefull about Demetrious's movements now. They are simply violent, lashing about carelessly. He finally seems to reach a climax, a series of spinning manuvers mixed with kicks and leaps. His exausted panting can now be heard over the supporting crowd. And suddenly, a noise tears from his throat and his entire body seems to lunge forward. [I]"ANGA-PAUR!"[/I] And then he is panting, lieing on the floor, and patrons of the tavern are picking up peices of what was once a chair off the floor and nearby tabletops. The crowd goes silent with amazement. The taverns owner rushes over to lift the young man off the floor. His chest is still heaving, but he manages "Chair... my purse.... pay for the chair...." The owner laughs as he nods his head in the direction of the door, where even more townsfolk are coming in to sate their curiousity. "If buisness was this good every night, I should pay [I]you![/I] " As they prop him up in a chair, complementing his dancing and speculating on whether or not they can match it, only one thing is running through Demetrious's mind... [I]My stupid mouth... oh, not one elf, but TWO! Did they... of COURSE they did... so stupid... so stupid.... [/I] [/QUOTE]
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