Lars (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mossbuds) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
noicemagazine2017-01-16 08:22 pm
mossbuds) wrote in noicemagazine2017-01-16 08:22 pm
(no subject)
It's been a month or so since Lars started to practice performance dancing. For the month previous, he'd been building up a routine of fire breathing and fire eating—as well as some contortionism, with mixed results (and injuries) in private. And that's been fun, but through various shenanigans, Lars has been drawn out of solo performances.
He has rhythm, but lacks coordination with his long, young and clumsy limbs. He's been steadily improving, though, actually working surprisingly hard at it. Lars has long been the type of person who sees himself as someone unskilled, and without talent—but it's more that he's been too afraid of exploring his own potential, out of fear of failure. But he's had some pretty (honestly annoyingly) supportive friends to coax him into something positive, and he's actually been blossoming under that influence. Albeit as discreetly as he can manage. The encouragement has rewarded Lars with surprising endurance and forward momentum. Plus, the exercise is really good at blowing off his endless well of stress, as well as some other stuff. Lately, suffeciently worn out by the end of the day, Lars has even been sleeping on a sort of regular schedule, for long, restful hours.
Of course, that might have something to do with some of that actual emotional fulfillment he's getting, but whatever. It's not like even as well as he's been doing that he's even let Steven or Lapis get incredibly close to him, emotionally speaking. Not yet. It's difficult for Lars to open up, but he's been getting there; his smiles and laughter are pretty genuine when they're all doing their routines, whether it be warm up or rehearsal. And he's been impish and annoying, which is another good sign.
And today, he's been practicing with Lapis. They aren't actually doing any particular routine, though—sometimes, they kind of just do whatever. Lapis used to lead Lars a lot more, but he's been a lot better lately with creating a narrative path in their foot falls. She's slender, like him, and easy to meld and catch. She's fluid as she twirls in his palms, unnaturally smooth and poreless, with no temperature to be read by his flesh. Normally, she's cool to the touch, but he's handled her enough to get her a little warmer. Her eyes are always dark and moody, and Lars finds himself often captivated by them as he searches for leads in her face; there's a story there that he doesn't understand, but it guides him by his curiosity. It's a darkness that draws him in.
This sort of dancing is honestly what's taught Lars the most natural rhythm, and most importantly, chemistry. Not even necessarily of the sexual variety, though that tension is certainly there, for Lars—he can't help it, being a teenaged boy, dancing in intimate proximity with a beautiful, ethereal woman. It was strange, because he hadn't been attracted to her before, even if he felt like she fell well into the type of beautiful he was always told to fall in love with—but he supposes if you get to know anyone well enough, especially in dance, it can happen. But similarly, as a teenager, Lars is used to suppressing those feelings because they're fucking always there.
He pulls her in by twirling her as they dance, musicless, on the dusty, dark stage of the big top. There's some light from some torches nearby that Lars had lit much earlier near the edge of the stage, but that's about it. He feels her back into him weightlessly, and his other hand is resting on her waist before he spins her back out, trying to flare out the layered, thin chifon plates of her skirt dramatically as he holds onto her paw-like hand.
He has rhythm, but lacks coordination with his long, young and clumsy limbs. He's been steadily improving, though, actually working surprisingly hard at it. Lars has long been the type of person who sees himself as someone unskilled, and without talent—but it's more that he's been too afraid of exploring his own potential, out of fear of failure. But he's had some pretty (honestly annoyingly) supportive friends to coax him into something positive, and he's actually been blossoming under that influence. Albeit as discreetly as he can manage. The encouragement has rewarded Lars with surprising endurance and forward momentum. Plus, the exercise is really good at blowing off his endless well of stress, as well as some other stuff. Lately, suffeciently worn out by the end of the day, Lars has even been sleeping on a sort of regular schedule, for long, restful hours.
Of course, that might have something to do with some of that actual emotional fulfillment he's getting, but whatever. It's not like even as well as he's been doing that he's even let Steven or Lapis get incredibly close to him, emotionally speaking. Not yet. It's difficult for Lars to open up, but he's been getting there; his smiles and laughter are pretty genuine when they're all doing their routines, whether it be warm up or rehearsal. And he's been impish and annoying, which is another good sign.
And today, he's been practicing with Lapis. They aren't actually doing any particular routine, though—sometimes, they kind of just do whatever. Lapis used to lead Lars a lot more, but he's been a lot better lately with creating a narrative path in their foot falls. She's slender, like him, and easy to meld and catch. She's fluid as she twirls in his palms, unnaturally smooth and poreless, with no temperature to be read by his flesh. Normally, she's cool to the touch, but he's handled her enough to get her a little warmer. Her eyes are always dark and moody, and Lars finds himself often captivated by them as he searches for leads in her face; there's a story there that he doesn't understand, but it guides him by his curiosity. It's a darkness that draws him in.
This sort of dancing is honestly what's taught Lars the most natural rhythm, and most importantly, chemistry. Not even necessarily of the sexual variety, though that tension is certainly there, for Lars—he can't help it, being a teenaged boy, dancing in intimate proximity with a beautiful, ethereal woman. It was strange, because he hadn't been attracted to her before, even if he felt like she fell well into the type of beautiful he was always told to fall in love with—but he supposes if you get to know anyone well enough, especially in dance, it can happen. But similarly, as a teenager, Lars is used to suppressing those feelings because they're fucking always there.
He pulls her in by twirling her as they dance, musicless, on the dusty, dark stage of the big top. There's some light from some torches nearby that Lars had lit much earlier near the edge of the stage, but that's about it. He feels her back into him weightlessly, and his other hand is resting on her waist before he spins her back out, trying to flare out the layered, thin chifon plates of her skirt dramatically as he holds onto her paw-like hand.