[ 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

[ombranera]

"Given enough cause and coin? I just might." There had been no room for error at the Soiree, else he might have then. But this is how he enjoys the dance far more. With wine, with warmth, with music. None of the weighted expectation or assumption that came with someone watching his hips and wondering at how else he might roll or writhe.

Normally it is not something he minds but- tonight? He is not precisely in the mood.

"Mmm. We have minstrels in Antiva, wandering singers that dance and play for the noble houses. As there is no Grand game and all spying is done through assassin houses- it is a fair deal more safe."

[arlathvhen]

"Maybe I'll start saving up." A pause as she looked over her shoulder. "That's a joke. I'm sure there are ways to scandalize nobles without having to shake your hips in front of them." She shifts position again, trying to speed the pace of her rolling hips once she feels like the motion is solid. "I hear that they really hate it when people climb around on furniture. Tables and whatnot. Although...I think most humans don't like that."

She muses on what he has to say. Minstrels, no. She likes music well enough, but that's not the reason she became a bard, it went with the territory. "I suppose I would do a worse job in Antiva, in that case. That's kind of odd, isn't it? But I'm better at being two-faced than I am at killing people."

[ombranera]

"Oh, they really do not like that. Especially if you are dancing on the table. Or ravishing someone on the table. Or dueling them. Tables are for eating, not for a quick escape." Which he has done many a time, truly.

Zevran's hand slips out to nudge Beleth's shoulder into a straighter line- she'd slipped a bit when increasing her speed. But she is getting the hang of it. "You make a better spy than assassin, yes. It is one thing to mold oneself to listen and observe and make use of it, another thing entirely to empty your heart and hollow your soul for the blood you will be spilling."

After a moment he hooks an arm around her waist to pull her into a quick hug. "I like you better this way."

[arlathvhen]

"Are you assuming they don't like all of those, or have you tried them?" Beleth smirks at Zevran. "Particularly dueling the table. That sounds dramatic." She knew what he meant, but she wasn't about to let that stop her. She does try to straighten at Zevran's touch, though. She slowly, and then stops entirely when she's hugged, because she was just as quick to return his hug, and hugging someone while wiggling your hips around is just kinda weird.

"...Thank you, Zevran." She gives him one more quick squeeze before she pulls back. "You always manage to reframe things for me. And reframe it in a way that makes me feel better. I...really do appreciate that, you know." He doesn't just write off the things she says about herself, he shows her why they aren't true, or aren't bad. It helps. A lot.

But that's not bellydancing and this isn't the place to be having a deep, heartfelt conversation. "So you can hire assassins to spy? And just spy? Even if you don't want the other person dead?"

[ombranera]

"I know from experience." Zevran offers, proud of himself. His many missions and many moments of sheer improvisation has led to more than a few strange tales that most of his fellow Crows never quite believed- up until the moment they saw it for themselves. After a few years Taliesin and Rinna learned to expect a strange tale or two, or a spectacular escape among fireworks or jewels on occasion.

Whichever would get the job done best, honestly.

Stopping the dance for the embrace? Is easy and far more appropriate. Beleth is...more than a friend, less than a sibling. In the back of his mind old tales of fey god parents that would offer advice and outfits in fairy stories come to mind. He supposes that is what he is to Beleth- with less of the outfiting and more of the advice. "It is something I never truly had, and as such I am happy to offer it to you. Especially to help you avoid some of the mistakes I have made."

Most of them.

"You hire spies to spy and assassins to assassinate. Some assassins are spies but not all spies are assassins."