[ OPEN ] And I'm on tonight you know my hips don't lie and I'm starting to feel it's right

[ombranera]

WHO: Zevran, His Kestrels, and You
WHAT: Music, Dance, Shenanigans
WHEN: Current
WHERE: The Herald's Rest
NOTES: It's Zev and dancing. There might end up being shiftlessness, seductions, and intoxication.

[ The Learning ]

It wasn't an intentional lesson, this. There was music, there was wine, there was talk of dancing in the small cleared space between tables. Tossing about ideas of what to play, how to dance, when Zevran made mention of a method of training oneself to isolate movement that was more or less a dance and the younger Kestrels (all but Settimo) expressed their interest. He sent Vitta to gather a few coin covered scarves and belts in all manner of colors from his room and gathered the rest to walk them through it.

Anyone else that was curious might join in, Zevran was something of a hands on teacher, adjusting posture with a hand to the plane of a back, the curve of a hip, showing with his own demonstrations as much as by moving his students by feel so they knew how it was to stand, to move, to roll. Little things, hip rolls, undulating like a snake, how to pop one's hip or hold one's shoulders still while the legs and hips do their work- these he went through as best he could before Vita returned and he offered a proper demonstration.


[ The Dancing ]

After a quick duet, all rolling hips and wide, flirtatious smiles, the Kestrels took turns dancing either on their own or with someone else that had expressed interest. Zevran, likewise, was content to either offer pointers here and there or dance alongside- or against- anyone that would have him. There was wine, there was music, there was warmth in the building and he could think of no better reason than to attempt to have a good time. The show seemed more than enough for those that didn't wish to participate on their own- apparently anything was a good change of pace from Maryden's ballads now and then.


[ The Mending / The Resting ]

Learning to bend oneself in new and exciting ways, to move or not move as one willed- it could create soreness or the occasional sprain if one was not careful. Teresa took time away from the dancing and the drinking to tend to any that might have twisted something they should not, had slipped and fallen or overextended a limb in an attempt to learn this manner of dancing. Or, more often, to offer glasses of either watered down ale or water proper to those taking a break from all the dancing. Zevran himself would flop down on a chair time to time, shirtless and sweating, watching the group with a crackle of laughter. Now this? This was living.

Comments

The Mending / The Resting

[universal_charm]

Kirk was one of those who was content to watch the show, intrigued when it had begun and calling out our encouragement to the students and a few wolf whistles for the teacher. He joined in with his claps to create a beat, finding himself truly smilingng for what felt like the first time since he'd arrived in this strange world. But watching the way some of the dancers moved their hips, how could one not smile? He took it as a sign some of his luck might be returning that he was in the right place at the right time to witness the impromptu lesson-performance.

He waited for the apparent leader to take a seat before rising with a mug of moderately pleasing ale - the best he could afford anyways and that made "pleasing" a suspect term - and made his way over. He wasn't sure if this was appropriate, but he had never been one to give to much concern to such things anyways. He merely felt he should express gratitude, and so he would. Hopefully that didn't set off a bar fight, but with his past reputation it was as likely as anything. Not that that stopped him, or had ever stopped him before.

"A thanks, for brightening the evening," Kirk smiled with all his natural charm at the handsome lead dancer and held out the mug.

[ombranera]

"More hip, Vita!" With elves there wasn't much hip to begin with and it meant more effort on their part to get anything resembling the usual curvature a human dancer might have naturally. But Vita seemed game enough and rolled through the next set with more hip as requested, earning a handful of applause from her fellow Kestrels. Not the typical lesson- but a good one.

Not what he'd planned for the night in the slightest- a few songs, a few stories, perhaps a round of cards but this? Was better. Certainly a great deal more exciting than going over 'no you need to have tells it won't get you hit for twitching when you look at your cards' for the fifth time this week.

"Mmm?" Zevran turned his head to quirk a brow at the man and the mug, considering both for a moment before accepting. "Well it was this or another rousing round of 'Sera Was Never'. I think I prefer this."

[universal_charm]

"Considering I have no idea what 'Sera Was Never' is, I'll take your word for it," he chuckled, glad the man had accepted and motioned to the chair beside Zevran for permission to sit. Normally he might be more brazen, but he was taking a measure of caution around Skyhold given his status as a Rifter.

"But I can definitely say this is the best thing I've seen since I got here, by far," he threw in a wink and another smile for good measure, glancing briefly to the group still moving on the floor.

[ombranera]

"A charming ballad written for one of the members of the Inquisition." Almost a love ballad at that, which is not at all odd in Zevran's mind. Not in the slightest. Not even a little. Such things were- no that was a lie, it was terribly odd and he was glad to not have to sit through another night of it and longing eyes up to where Sera used to sleep. This? was better.

Zevran lifted his mug in thanks and took a deep drink, pulling back with a faint wince. It was no brandy- but it was not Dwarven Ale either. "You should see them on the flying silks, then, if that is what you fancy. A great deal less fumbling, and more danger."

[fightingale]

( ota. )
She is not the friendliest presence in the bar. She is hardly even the most obvious presence. It is more as though one moment there was simply an empty corner occupied only by shadow, and the next there was the Nightingale. Not alone - she had a nug with her, Boulette, wearing some armour. Still, the expression on her face is not entirely cold or distant, and she watches the dancing for a few moments. Spymasters always have some business to attend to, and they cannot be shirked in the name of of such merriment, for better or worse.


( zevran. )
A strange coincidence, that today of all days he had the parcel delivered and started these lessons. She remembers when he had taught her during the Blight, and she had taught him court dances, and they'd looked ridiculous at the campfire. Nostalgia is a cruel friend, often inclined to turn the knife. Perhaps, she supposed, the same could be said of assassins and bards.

She waits until he is available, lurking in her corner, and her move to speak with him is pre-empted by Boulette (in her new armour) trotting over, ears swivelled towards Zevran.

[ombranera]

If he told her he hadn't planned it like this- she wouldn't believe him. And he wouldn't blame her for it. That things fell into place so neatly is a happy enough accident. Moments by the campfire when they were younger, when they were brighter- when all they had to do was save the world and that can't be so hard now, can it? Now they know the weight of that burden better.

Now it drags them down if they let it.

Boulette (he thinks it's Boulette, at least) gathers his attention easily enough. Zevran drops to a knee to admire her and the fit, cooing softly under his breath. "Well now I had hoped to have managed the measurements properly. Look at you, mm? A fearsome little nug warrioress. I bet your mother is quite proud!"

[fightingale]

Boulette is one of the smaller of the nuglettes, so named because she curls up in a snug little ball to sleep. She snuffles at Zevran's hand quite happily, resting her tiny nug-hands on his leg so she can lean up to snuffle at him more effectively. Does the man have treats? She does like treats.

"Behave, Boulette," comes a quiet voice, Leliana approaching steadily, but with no real haste. It seems... unfitting for her to be here, the Nightingale in a place of such merriment when she should probably be working. The nug, for her part, looks at Leliana and makes one of those strange, squeaky little nug sounds.

After a little pause, and slightly wryly, "She is a troublemaker, this one. Her armour seems to make her think she is all the bigger and stronger."

Learning (open?? if anyone else wants in)

[arlathvhen]

It's certainly nothing Beleth has seen before, and she watches Zevran move with interest. She'd never known it was even possible to move your hips like that, or do that...thing, with your stomach. When he starts showing other people, she hesitates--because this is a crowded tavern, and the idea of strangers watching her try to move her hips like that is a bit nerve-wracking, she decides to give it a try. Life has been unduly stressful, and a little bit of fun--even in the form of training--would be a nice break from it. So she steps over and volunteers herself.

"You know, Zevran, I suspect if you managed to do this at an Orlesian ball," Beleth muses, while trying to roll her hips and not move her shoulders, "You would progress far enough in the Game to rule all of Orlais. You possess a dangerous weapon."

[ombranera]

"Hardly." Zevran crackles a soft laugh, resting a hand between her shoulder-blades as she works through the next roll. "It is considered peasant dancing for one, and I am an elf for another. It'd be a little like watching a lovely sculpture move in a vulgar way; but it would give me no true influence. In Antiva now..."

Ah, the rewards this trick has lent him. "I've gained quite a bit of notoriety for such things. A little less leg, a little more hip. You are rolling, not bouncing."

[arlathvhen]

"I suppose that's true. I'd still love to see the noble's faces, if you ever did that." She adjusts her stance, putting a hand on her leg to hold it still as she tried to carefully roll her hip. She's a bendy person by nature, and spends plenty of time stretching to maintain that limberness, but she's still fairly sure that Zevran had managed to learn how to dislocate pieces of his body to move like that.

"Antiva must be funner than Orlais. I wonder if I'd do a better job being a bard in Antiva." She paused as she switched to her other hip, straightening her back. "I mean, I heard bards are mostly Orlesian, but I'd suppose they have something similar? At least ways to progress in society."

The Dancing

[samahl]

Honestly, there was no way that Cyril was going to miss this. It's just too wonderful and relaxing, just what he needed given everything else. He ends up joining any of the boys who want to dance with him, some of the women too.

Most of the night, though, he watches Zevran and just enjoys the way that he looks moving this way. It's when Zevran has time for him that he grins the most.

"This is fun. Maybe I should try to learn more too." It's far more graceful and artistic than the rutting he did against Zevran to win his crown. A crown he happens to be wearing now.

[ombranera]

"I would be happy to teach you." The patch is gone for tonight- it is gone most days. After the Soiree it seemed less important. He could feel most of what was going on with his blind side anyway and no one caused much fuss over the milky white film. He was just as attractive (or so bull said) and just as charming (so Alistair said) and just as dangerous (so Dorian implied). What more can he ask for?

Zevran extends a hand to Cyril to pull him in, tucking his chin over the other elf's shoulder. "It is all in the hips, yes?"

[samahl]

Cyril would agree with all three of them as well. When he looks at Zevran he doesn't focus on the eye, he just looks at Zevran with the same pleased expression he had before. If anything, he's just so pleased to see how well Zevran is now.

"At least I have practice moving those," Cyril responds. He easily lets Zevran pull him close, enjoying everything about their bodies touching.

The Learning [Thread hopping welcome]

[el_tybs]

Sam had only been there to enjoy something warm to drink, smiling mostly to himself as he watched and listened to Zevran's group chatter among themselves about dancing. When he actually started to teach his Kestrels - that was the word he had called them, yes? - Sam found himself a bit mesmerized. Whatever Zevran was doing it was not like any of the other dances Sam has seen so far.

Some of the movements have him tilting his head to try and see it better, as if the new angle would help him understand how it worked. A couple times he notices that he's caught watching, which has him blushing slightly, but no less interested in watching.

After a time though Sam gets up to move closer so he can watch better. "How... does that even work?"

[ombranera]

"With a good deal of practice and an awareness of one's muscles. The entirety of it is built around isolated movement. Hold the rest of yourself still and move but the one thing, yes? Hips, abdomen, thighs-" Zevran gave a roll from the ribs downward- shoulders and head remaining perfectly still.

"And so on. Almost anyone can learn the basics easily enough."

[el_tybs]

"Isolated movement," he repeats, bringing up his mug to take a drink as he listens, but clearly getting distracted by the demonstration. That was seriously unfair.

"That seems a lot more complicated than how you're explaining it... or showing it."

The Learning

[justice_is_blond]

He hangs at the very edges of the group, near to the wall, trying to not draw too many eyes. If he's not attacked again, everyone is safe. If he is... But he can't live like that, no matter how tight his chest feels whenever his fear spikes.

A few of the steps seem easy enough, but many of them are unfamiliar and it's a comfortable strangeness, one he can wrap his mind around and let it go blank with. Step, fail to sway right, step, sway better, he might not quite have it, but it's not too bad.

When Zevran comes close, he gets a slightly distant look without much in the way of recognition for a moment there before Anders blinks.

"It's... quite the class."

[ombranera]

"We are taught similar things for self control and contortion in the Crows. Making it a dance? Removes that shadow from the skill. Makes it less about killing and more about enjoyment." Zevran doesn't bother explaining that much to many but- Anders had seen what they'd done to him, had seen the fledglings flee. Had spoken on their behalf, or so Vita said.

It feels fair for him to know the how, the why.

"If I may?" He steps in close, painting himself along Anders' back, hands resting on Anders' hips. "Roll thusly."

[justice_is_blond]

Flexibility, focus, the dancing makes more sense when described like that, and Anders looks around the room with the new perspective.

He relaxes some as Zevran touches him, copying the movements and getting closer. "Are they healing? Losing some of the shadow?" The two of them have gone too far to ever be clear of it, no matter how Anders has moments he thinks he can break free. The younger ones still have a chance. Especially under Zevran's eye.

A second try, a third, and he's fairly certain he now has that motion, at least. "Better?"

The Learning / Moving into dancing?

[unharrowed]

Wine was an indulgence Vasran was still getting used to in several ways. For one thing, there hadn't been many opportunities to drink back in the Circle, and especially not since the start of the rebellion. For another, she had never in her life had an allowance of her own, before now.

On an evening before this one, she had managed to drink herself silly, and while she hadn't gotten sick, she'd woken up feeling embarrassed of herself. On this night, she was being more cautious, although the sight of what those dancers were doing was bringing heat to her face almost faster than the wine.

She never had been one to remain on the sidelines when she could afford otherwise - and she hardly needed wine to make her bold.

"Like this?" she asked, inserting herself right into the midst of things, addressing the apparent leader of the group. She held up one arm lengthwise, attempting to pop the shoulder in the way he had demonstrated.

[ombranera]

"Yes, exactly that!" Shyness did not last long when curiosity could overcome it- provided something with enough weight to make one curious? He didnot anticipate those hanging about the edges and straddling the fence on whether or not to join them to last long before winding their way into the center. Zevran shifted his attention from Vita to the newcomer, repeating the gesture so she might observe. "Try it again with your other arm."

[unharrowed]

Vasran felt a small grin tug at her lips, and tried to keep it from getting too broad. Oh, but he was just as pretty up close — it was almost a pity about the eyepatch, but he made it look dashing. She had only so many instincts when it came to flirting, and nearly no practice, but something in her said she shouldn't appear too overeager.

With her other arm, then. She was no dancer, nor a fighter, but there was some amount of grace required in spellcasting. So she was quite confident in mirroring the gesture before turning it into a shoulder shimmy. By the end of it, she was smiling wide despite herself.

"Well, they never taught this in the Circle."

The learning? More like the watching.

[disgracedchampion]

This was merely a break between rigorous training sessions. A few moments to rest, to drink water (for he drank alcohol only on certain occasions), to recharge. He had not come for the dancing, it was just a coincidence that he was here...okay perhaps most of this was coincidental, but it truly was on his part.

Could he dance? Like a prince. He spent hours learning various Orlesian waltzes and he was satisfied that he'd reached his dancing criteria. He figured that there might be a handful of remarkable instance where he would even use this particular skillset, on of those occurring rather recently. He'd been bold on that particular night, but his natural disposition was shy, more subdued about such things.

No. He was comfortable off to the side watching and, as it turned out, he was just as capable of learning through observations as he was by simply doing. So satisfaction would simply have to be taken from this.

[ombranera]

Much as he had for the last performance of a sort he'd made in the Tavern- Zevran wound around back to where Michel sat with his water. Both sober and warm and he far less likely to simply slip out and abandon his fledglings to the crowd; but the situation was familiar enough for him to think nothing at all of settling into Michel's lap, nuzzling the side of his throat.

"Enjoying the show, Soleil?" Had it not started thus months ago?

[disgracedchampion]

It was certainly very familiar, this--the dancing, the Herald's Rest, the atmosphere...and Zevran sliding comfortably into his lap. He was also well aware of what this led the last time they had a conversation under similar circumstances. He pushed it to the back of his mind, in spite of the fact that Zevran was compact and warm in his lap and it was tempting to follow that same path again.

"I wasn't...not that it...it is enjoyable," but how was it that Zevran managed to suss him out each and every time? Shaking off the way it flustered him, he rerouted his thoughts, "lines...have you ever thought about painting lines on your body?"