[Deleted]

With the first class behind her. Kiva was making plans for the next one, since unforms still would not be acquired yet. she thought maybe having some fun would change minds about class. Sending a notice ahead of class, students would be allowed to wear clothing that was comfortable enough for a ballet class and to wear clean non marring footwear.

At the time of class students could do any kind of stretches or warm up they pleased.

Kiva would ask the students to sit in one corner of the classroom and each was given a three minuet time to do whatever kind of dance they wanted, minding that they would do their dances without music. Students sitting in the corner would be silent and not comment on any of the dances.

At the end of the dances Madam Tia would asked them to give each other a hand and she started clapping. "Well done!" With that she allowed the students to whisper among themselves with one rule, no 'dissing' anyone's dance!

[Melody Newton]

[attr="class","nikki98"]

[attr="class","nikki99"]

I NEED TO COME DOWN

[attr="class","nikki100"]

[attr="class","nikki101"]SEEMS LIKE THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD WENT AND LOST ITS MIND

[attr="class","nikki102"]AND ALL MY CHILDHOOD HEROES HAVE FALLEN OFF OR DIED

[attr="class","nikki109"]Once again, Melody had not read the notice. This meant that she arrived in exactly the clothes she had already been wearing for the day. Skinny jeans, converse, and a top. Much to her annoyance, her outfit was not noticeably different to that of most of the other students present in the studio. Obviously there had been a memo that she had missed.

She sat against the mirrors leaning back and scowling at the students who were taking the class seriously enough to actually start stretching and warming up. She was half tempted to pull out her phone, and was halfway towards doing that when Miss Christon spoke, asking the students to move to a corner of the classroom. Slowly and resentfully, as though what Miss Christon asked was the most unreasonable thing in the world, Melody obeyed, slumping down at the back of the group with her back against the wall.

Her eyes widened in surprise that she couldn't conceal as the teacher told the class that they would each be getting up to perform a dance in front of the whole class. Was that a piece of homework that she'd missed in the last class? After a moment it became clear that it wasn't homework that she'd failed to do, but that the teacher expected each of them to come up with a dance on the spot. She scoffed at the thought, the sound covered up by the muttering that crossed the class, some, like Ivy, excited at the opportunity, others worried.

She muttered herself, leaning towards Ed, who had sat down nearby.

"No way I'm getting up there."

[attr="class","nikki103"]271

[attr="class","nikki103"]Ed Reynolds

[attr="class","nikki103"]@kivachriston

NOTES

Do I look like a dancer?

PHARAOH LEAP.

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[Ed Reynolds]

| @kivachriston | 443 words |

[attr="class","edreynolds"]A notice had been set out with fantastic news – ballet uniforms wouldn’t be ready yet for the next close, so they could wear what they wanted. Well, technically, it said they should wear comfortable and appropriate clothing for ballet class, but who cared about technicalities? Anyway, besides his pyjama bottoms, Ed didn’t quite have any trousers that fit Madam Kia’s bill, so he just selected his comfiest and most moveable pair of jeans. They were black so they could almost be mistaken for appropriate attire, if you were squinting.

Ed wasn’t exactly thinking about what footwear would be appropriate to dance in but, remembering Keke’s chunky boots from the last class with a wry smile, he’d selected his own pair of mildly battered Dr Martens. In his defence, he was so used to wearing them that they were both comfy and easy to move in, but maybe not quite what his teacher had had in mind when she stipulated “clean non-marring footwear”.

Oh well.

He made half-hearted attempts to warm up for the class whenever Madam Kia looked his way, mostly focusing all his efforts on making his closest peers laugh at whatever weird pose he could come up with next to pass off as a “stretch”. He was never going to be on Ivy’s level – none of them were – so he might as well have a bit of fun with it.

If Ivy could see his attempts, he was sure she’d be laughing. She’d witnessed his attempts at a backbend, after all. He could only hope that her roommate was also laughing – with, not at, him.

They were then sent to the corner of the room – Melody managing to pull herself away from slumping against one wall to slump against another – to watch each other dance. Without music? What? Ed quickly followed Melody’s lead in hiding at the back of the group.

She leaned towards him, echoing his thoughts in a low murmur. “Does she really expect us to just dance randomly with no music or training?” he hissed back incredulously. Ed shook his head at the whole situation, wondering where their teacher’s high expectations had come from. “She did say ‘whatever dance we want’, what happens if what I want is nothing? Can I sit out?”

Certainly there was no way he could come up with something for a whole three minutes but – if forced – Ed was just going to spin around in circles for a bit with his arms stretched wide and the most serious expression he could manage. Maybe he’d even start flying for good measure.

He waited with interest to see who the first victi- volunteer would be.

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[Deleted]

There had been a more than logical reason that Ozma had missed the first class; granted she didn't really want to go in the first place. Loath as she was to admit, wearing tights was going to be problematic in the long run. Much less the fact that she had to endure the whole "leotard and white hose" combo that was so popular for females in dance. Just thinking about it sent Ozma into a spiral of self doubt and anxiety strong enough to freeze her in her steps; and it wasn't like she could just stop thinking about it. For one, her mind simply didn't work that way, and beyond that there was a the whole human condition of being conscious about one's own appearance versus the other that she doubted anyone could escape even if they really wanted too. There was thousands of years of humans being a pattern recognizing species on top of them being a social species doomed Ozma's brain to latch onto the absolute stupidity that was her in tights.

The saddest part of all that was that she would absolutely love to wear a leotard and tights and frolic around becoming a competent ballerina, there was a secret side of her that just wanted to explore all those girly stereotypes and try to embrace them in order to find her own female identity. It was the other students that were the problem, the variable that she couldn't control if she were to strap into any tight fitting clothing. It would be one thing if it was just a regular body image issue, but the fact of the matter was that she didn't have a regular body.

Fortunately however, this class wasn't one that required tights; at least for this one. It allowed Ozma to at least seem like she was interested in showing up to class on time and thus not land herself in hot water with the administration. It seemed a lot of the other students were having issues of their own with the class, in various states of being embarrassed or not wanting to participate for one reason or another. Not that it really mattered what they were going through, she couldn't really help them with their problems when she was pressed down by her own anxieties.

Ironically given her general thoughts on the class, Ozma was actually wearing a thick pair of form fitting black leggings with a pair of knee highs under it to pad out her black flats. The saving grace was that she was also wearing a long t-shirt with a candy skull design on the front with it's hem ending at her lower thigh. Beyond that she also had a flannel blouse completely unbuttoned, and a leather jacket. But those would come off as she got ready to stretch before the class, something she was pretty competent at having run a couple of marathons in the past. Stretching her muscles out carefully so that she didn't put herself under any undue strain if she were to try to dance. After stretching they unceremoniously sat against the wall and most everyone seemed to want to put themselves as far into the corner as they absolutely could.

Truth be told, the quiet girl that always had her nose in a book wanted to do much the same. But the fact that the majority of people int he class were shying away from it was enough to fuel her with some amount of bravery.

"If no one else is going to go then I'll go." Ozma spoke up finally, standing up.

[Melody Newton]

[attr="class","nikki98"]

[attr="class","nikki99"]

I NEED TO COME DOWN

[attr="class","nikki100"]

[attr="class","nikki101"]SEEMS LIKE THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD WENT AND LOST ITS MIND

[attr="class","nikki102"]AND ALL MY CHILDHOOD HEROES HAVE FALLEN OFF OR DIED

[attr="class","nikki109"]"That's what it sounds like."

Melody whispered back to Ed, "I shall name my piece, 'My Favourite Thing to Do in Class."

Melody glanced around at the rest of class, certainly no one seemed eager to volunteer for the task that would involve them getting up in front of the class to make a fool of themselves. It wasn't that surprising, they were stuck on this campus for the foreseeable future, with the same group of people. No one wanted to be the loser.

Even Ivy, Keke's exhaustingly enthusiastic roommate hadn't jumped up yet. Maybe she was just planning out her dance. That seemed about right. The girl obviously took her dancing seriously, maybe the thought of having to improvise it had finally given her pause.

The silence stretched, getting longer and longer until Melody was convinced that the teacher was going to call off the whole thing and pretend it was a prank. It wouldn't be the first time Melody had seen a teacher do that, or attempt to bribe someone to actually get up and take part. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall, having wedged herself most of the way into the corner.

Finally the long silence was broken, but not by Miss Christon. A tall, gangly, awkward looking individual had pulled themselves to their feet. Melody didn't recognise her. Not that it was unusual. There were a lot of students at EMBA now, and more arriving every week. Maybe this girl was one of the newcomers. Or maybe she simply hadn't stood out in any lessons yet.

Melody forced a sneer onto her face. Who was this girl who thought she was better than the rest of them? She called out sarcastically "Sure, break a leg!"

[attr="class","nikki103"]293

[attr="class","nikki103"]@ghosty

[attr="class","nikki103"]Eau de Resistance

NOTES

Trying so hard to be cool...

PHARAOH LEAP.

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[Keaira Matthews]

You should know you're beautiful, just the way you are

Keaira was late. Later than she'd ever been to anything in the course of her adolescent life. Keke had overslept, a consequence of her poor decision to partake of an additional cup of chamomile tea instead of her single nightly one. While the brunette was vaguely aware of the existence of a memo regarding ballet class, because Madam Tia really did love her memos, there hadn't been enough time to read it before leaving for class. Keaira had selected a forest green camouflage print crop top with solid green capri pants and a pair of brown combat boots. She'd drawn her dark tresses back into a rather loose French braid before grabbing her duffel from the bed and darting out the door. 

As the technopath dashed down the corridor, Keaira briefly considered delaying the final bell to give her more time but immediately decided against it as she figured that if the order of this class was in anyway similar to the last one then most likely they would still only be doing stretches. Which the sixteen year old felt to be a moot point for herself as her leg muscles felt fairly stretched after having practically ran all the way to class from her dorm room. The teenager took a few minutes to catch her breath before entering the ballet studio.  Much to her surprise, the class seemed to be gathered in one corner of the room with most of the students looking extraordinarily uncomfortable.

So much for sneaking in the back, Keaira thought to herself as her dark orbs scanned the crowd seeking familiar faces. Locating Ed and Melody tucked snugly into the corner seemingly with no intention of moving on their accord, Keke shuffled over to them. With her facial expression being the very definition of perplexity, the brunette inquired " Hey guys. So, what's going on here?" However, before Keaira could receive her answer, a lanky girl whom to Keke's mind seemed to be awkwardness personified, spoke out indicating that she was willing to go first. Go first in doing what, the brunette wondered. What the hell had she just walked into?

Keaira's gaze shifted from Ed's face to Melody's whose bright orbs seemed to gleam with mischief even while her voice dripped with sarcasm as she wished the girl. Keaira shot Melody a look that seemed to say "Seriously, Mel?" Keke's gaze drifted over to the volunteer as she offered her what she hoped to be both a friendly and encouraging smile. Wordlessly, the teen was doing her best to communicate to the newcomer that she was rooting for her to do well, in.... well whatever it was that they were supposed to be doing up there.

template by punki of adoxography - beware hidden scroll bar

[Deleted]

Contrary to what most students would have probably done, Robb was early for ballet class--one of the first to come in, actually. He had his reasons, too--being early meant he didn't have to run because he was late, which was a good thing because in his experience, running always led to disasters. Some years ago he would've also added the fact that he loved dancing (ballet, by extension) as a reason, but even that wasn't possible anymore, and that left him hating ballet--or rather, hating the fact that he couldn't do ballet without looking like some overgrown turtle in the middle of class.

Which, unfortunately, seemed likely to happen today.

The young speedster sat in a cross-legged position, an elbow resting on his knees while his head rested on his palm as he listened to Madam...Tia? Kia?...Madam Whatever-Her-Real-Name-Is. He'd been to the first ballet class, of course, but he'd been too worried about what accidents could happen to even actually listen to anyone and anything.

But ah, that had to be remedied.

This time, despite not being evident, Robb did listen, although he immediately wished he hadn't. Improvised dances? One side of his brain belted out a big 'YES!' but it was quickly overshadowed by another one saying 'No. Just...no.' But he couldn't possibly say 'no', could he? Not when everyone would be watching, and he didn't want to be branded as the type to chicken out of such things.

Then again, he also didn't want to be branded as a complete doofus. Everyone would still be watching as he made a fool of himself in ballet. Decidedly, Robb ended up trying to think of one of the many dance moves he knew. Tumbling? Too fast. Moonwalking? Still too fast. Headstanding? Toofasttoofasttoofasttoofast...

Sh-bleep.

"Dance class is harder than I thought," he remarked, scooting a bit closer to a familiar face--Ed, his comedian of a roommate. "I mean, we're not even dancing yet but half the faces look...problematic, to say the least. Including me.. What're you going to dance, Ed?"

Eventually, the time came for the performances and there were zero people eager to stand up and be the first. Or the second. Or the third. Robb almost sighed in relief, realizing he wasn't the only one. Not that he thought he was the only one. Time went on for quite a long bit but still no one stood up to do the honors--it almost compelled Robb to volunteer as tribute. His legs twitched in anticipation as he slowly began to stand up.

"If no one else is going to go then I'll go."

Correction: He almost began to stand up, before a girl--one brave soul--managed to speak up and beat him to it. Robb wasn't sure if he should sigh in relief, because now his mind had decided that to get this dilemma done quickly, he was going to have to go in second. After the girl, he was going to go and make a fool of himself (preferably not) so he wouldn't have to spend the rest of the class worrying.

The subsequent snark of someone close by prompted Robb to whip his head around, seeing a bright-eyed girl. "D'you know her? Is she always like that?" he whispered to Ed, low enough so that only the recipient could hear.

[Kenzi Nadir]

”I’m laaaaaaaaaate!” Kenzi sang as she burst into the room, a wide smile on her face, a streak of white acrylic on her cheek. Ballet seemed like an interesting class. She didn’t like the whole dress code thing, but there wasn’t a dress code today, so she figured she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Today she was wear a form-fitting neon blue t-shirt covered in a mostly even layer of her DIY glitter and a pair of white jeans splattered with streaks of paint and pastel. She didn’t really care if it was comfortable enough to dance in, it made her look damn good, at least in her opinion.

It seemed like a weird thing to offer at a metahuman academy. They didn’t have anything like it at her old school. There was a dance class but that was mostly for the cheerleaders and the dance crew, people who were serious and could bear to listen to the garbage excuse for music they danced to. Kenzi had chosen to actually try in ballet in the spirit of her brother. He’d gotten into dance for a while back when he was doing musicals. He’d taught her a few moves when she was little. She’d mostly forgotten them, but she still had fond memories of a twelve year old Rob guiding a four year old Kenzi along in a little twirl, or her little feet standing on his as he lead her in a waltz. She missed him, this seemed like a nice way to connect to him while they were half a country apart.

She had no qualms about being late. She wanted to make a good introduction, and pronounced and announced lateness seemed the perfect way to let everyone know who she was, and furthermore, make sure everyone was paying attention to her. Sure, she could use her powers, but this method had always worked in the past, and if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

She waltzed over to the largest conglomerate of people. She recognized Keke from her math class, but she didn’t know the rest. ”Hey wassup? I’m Kenzi!” She asked, plopping herself down in front of them. ”Oh man, I like your eyes.” She told the girl with the heterochromia. ”Is that natural or is that part of your powers?” She asked. ”What are we doing, what did I miss?” She looked over at the girl standing up. ”What is she doing? Hey, what are you doing!?” She asked the girl. ”Are we supposed to be dancing?” She asked the room in general.

[Deleted]

people can lose their lives in libraries they ought to be warned

350 ♦ F'in Everyone

It seemed like the only thing required to illicit response from the others was for her to stand up and take the lead. She'd like to think that they were being silly but she tended to think that it took a foolish person to lead in the first place. Which in this case would make her the fool, as if there wasn't already enough activity vying for awakening her anxiety as she tried her best to keep it down.

Honestly it froze her in her tracks, Ozma only a passenger in her own body as she watched all the others take notice of her. What did they think of her? Were they really looking closely at her at all? If they were was it going to tint their opinion of her? All those questions and a thousand more flooded into her conciousness completely paralyzing. It was as if time in her immediate area froze while outside of that area it seemed to speed up, baraging her with all these looks and statements. Her body became tight and rigid and it was all that she could do to keep herself from fleeing the scene entirely.

"Okay I can do this..." Ozma breathed to herself, she doubted anyone could hear her mumble that.

With that breath she put on her persona, eyes reflecting the lazy apathy that she held as a defense mechanism, body seeming to be barely on the brink of just slumping over. She turned her gaze to the girl who had made the smart aleck remark to her, giving a faint but distant smirk.

"If I do I'll make sure to fall on top of you, then we could both be broken bone buddies."

Ozma crossed her arms and looked over to the girl who had practically bound into the classroom, a ball of energy like that was likely to want to dance as soon as possible. "If you'd been on time you'd know that Madam Kia over there is going to have us do improv dance for whatever reason. I was about to take my turn."

► kaigra ◄

[Deleted]

Ivy was early as usual. Ivy had done her stretches while the other students filtered in and then Madam Tia had given a rather easy assignment to get up and dance whatever they wanted, with out music for 3 minuets. Ivy didn't want to be first because she did not want to give the others the impression that she was better then them. Even if she could dance circles around the others. Ivy was considerate to the others even though some seemed to be lazy and didn't even want to try to do the simple class assignment.

When the late student came in and after Ozma danced, Ivy got up and she did one of her performances that she does for events. Bending her body over and over , handstands and splits, twirts and abit of walking on her hands and at the end of her three minuets she did some ballet.

Once done she sat in the group of students and whispered to them "Just be yourself and let yourself go, easy."

[Madison Ardnell]

Ballet class. To tell the truth, Madison wasn't a fan, but he kept his face carefully composed into a light smile as he entered. No point in giving the teacher a reason to dislike you.

He surveyed the room, sizing up the competition. Melody was here and he gave her a nod as he came in. He had pegged her as the sort of girl whose desire to be independent sent her headlong into the arms of the nearest bad boy. He'd be sure to offer her a cigarette later.

It was freestyle ballet, an obvious attempt to get the students engaged through freedom that would only result in more of them thinking the class was stupid. He almost pittied the teacher her task of stirring up interest. Almost. If it didn't promise to be so entertaining.

The dances went one by one. Ivy went up and did her bit, a gymnastics-like routine that Madison had to admit was pretty impressive. That sort of flexibility would sure come in handy in bed.

She finished and sat down with a cliched admonition to just be themselves. Madison almost rolled his eyes. "Sure," he said, much louder than Ivy had. "Be yourself. But what if you suck?"

He cast a glance in Ozma's direction as he said it.

[Maia Morales]

Maia Morales

THEY CALL ME DEVIL, AND YOU SHOULD BE AFRAID

For the first time in a long time, Maia was nervous. Although she realized that it was rather silly for her to be. After all, it wasn't like she'd never been to school before. Of course it had been several years since the brunette had set foot in an actual classroom but that was neither here nor there, she supposed. Positive vibes, Mai. Positive vibes, the teen encouraged herself. Of course her team thought that she was suffering from some form of mental breakdown when she informed them that she planned to cut the rest of her tour so that she could enroll in EMBA, but her mind was made up. It would do the pop star some good to be around other teenagers doing normal teenaged things, as if she even knew what that meant anymore. Perhaps one of the many downsides of being in the spotlight so much was the belief pattern that developed that the world revolved around you.

In truth, people always waited for her to arrive before anything began, regardless of how long it took her to get there. While Maia never deliberately kept people waiting, she'd never bothered too much with rushing herself either. After all, the brunette wanted to make a good first impression. Finding something suitable to wear to a ballet class had proven to be more of a challenge than the singer had expected as most of the clothing she wore during rehearsals hardly seemed appropriate. After much consideration, Maia finally settled on a light weight multi colored zippered crop jacket with a peach tank top and a pair of white shorts. Uncertain of what non-marring footwear meant, Maia had simply chosen a pair of white sneakers to complete the ensemble. Having missed the first class entirely, Maia had no idea what to expect from this one and had pulled her hair back from her face just in case.

Well aware that by this point, she was so late that she may as well not have shown up at all, Maia still made no effort to hasten. If asked, she could surely use the fact that she was a new student and unfamiliar with the layout of the school to avoid being marked as tardy. Much to her surprise, as she arrived class appeared to be in full swing with a group of students gathered in one corner of the ballet studio. There was much to be gathered from the emotional climate of the room as she sensed reluctance, bashfulness, and outright defiance from some students. However, there was also confidence emanating from both a redhead as well as a rather boisterous dark haired girl whose boundless energy was a bit infectious. whom had leaped up from where she'd been sitting and launched into a dance routine that had seemed way too familiar to her to be impromptu.

Admittedly, the girl had some skill and definitely flexibility worth boasting about, but somehow Maia doubted she'd make too many friends if she kept showing off that way. Having observed enough, Maia started across the room towards the others well aware that with the way her pheromones manifested, her presence was most likely to be felt far before she cane into view. A bashful smile lit the brunette's face as she shifted her gaze to Madam Tia stating " Sorry, I'm late. Still learning my way around. I didn't expect this place to be so huge." Maia's gaze swept the room settling on a boy whom had made a rather nasty comment towards the dark haired girl whom had performed prior to the redhead. He was practically radiating arrogance, Maia noted. 

With a smile that suggested both bashfulness and yet a quiet confidence Maia said " I'll go next if no one else is interested."

WORDS: || TAGGED: || MUSIC || NOTES:

 Table by Nightwing™

[Melody Newton]

[attr="class","nikki98"]

[attr="class","nikki99"]

I NEED TO COME DOWN

[attr="class","nikki100"]

[attr="class","nikki101"]SEEMS LIKE THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD WENT AND LOST ITS MIND

[attr="class","nikki102"]AND ALL MY CHILDHOOD HEROES HAVE FALLEN OFF OR DIED

[attr="class","nikki109"]Seriously? Someone was this late?

If Melody wasn't careful she was going to be like everyone else strolling in ten or even twenty minutes after the lesson started. At that point it wouldn't make her seem as if she was making an impact any more, not when other people showed up so late it was a wonder they bothered turning up at all, and anyway who the fuck did this person think she-

Melody's train of thought derailed so swiftly it probably resulted in several fatalities and a years long Federal investigation.

That was Maia Morales.

Maia Morales had just walked into the room. Melody wasn't quite sure what to do, now that she was in the presence of a genuine star. Sure her dad was famous in academic circles, but they were just as much boring old farts as he was, this was someone cool and successful, who'd made it as a singer. And who, she suddenly realised, must also be a metahuman. Why else would she be here?

She barely even noticed the comment that the new boy had made, and was currently more than a little starstruck, and trying to hide it, at the fact that someone who's music she had on her phone was currently breathing the same oxygen as her.

It wasn't like she could ask for an autograph.

Wait… Could she?

Don't be stupid Melody, you've gotta act cool.

Although apparently Maia wasn't interested in acting cool, as she'd already volunteered to go next, leaving Melody in a quandary. She turned to Ed to hide her confusion, speaking in a low whisper as her eyes started to fade and change. "Dude, that's Maia Morales, she's like, famous over here."

[attr="class","nikki103"]285

[attr="class","nikki103"]Maia Morales

[attr="class","nikki103"]Ed Reynolds

NOTES

starstruck

PHARAOH LEAP.

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[Kenzi Nadir]

”Improv dance, ooh, that sounds like fun!” She said excitedly, clapping her hands together. Rob would be so excited, he always liked expressing himself with his body, that was a big part of acting. And her siblings’ interests always seemed to trickle down to her.

Instantly, she was itching to go first, but this girl had already volunteered apparently, so she supposed she’d have to wait. Unless she offered to go before her…

She opened her mouth to do so but before she could, another girl waltzed into the center of the room and delivered a truly ecstatic dance. Despite Kenzi’s wish to go first, she was enraptured by its beauty. When the girl had finished, Kenzi hollered and leapt into an enthusiastic applause. ”That was awesome!” She yelled at the girl. Still, she couldn’t help but feel jealous of all the attention the girl was getting, cheated of her chance to go first.

Kenzi let out an amused noise at the boy’s disparaging remarks. ”You only suck if you wanna suck.” She replied. ”And even then I guess you’re kinda succeeding so it’s kinda impossible to suck.” She shrugged.

Suddenly, the door to the classroom opened and another student walked in. It took Kenzi a moment to recognize her, but when she did her eyes narrowed. Maia Morales. A singer. A pop star. She felt the term in her mouth and it tasted like vomit. A fraud calling themselves an artist. It sickened her. Delivering mindless entertain, encouraging people to turn off their mind, to dismiss the melody in favor of whatever thoughtless drivel of words to put at the forefront.

Her dislike for Maia turned into hatred as she saw the look in the girl’s eyes she was trying to introduce herself to. They looked straight past her. Starstruck. Kenzi had said hi, why wasn’t she paying attention to her?

She hit the nail on the head when she announced her intention to go next. No. This was Kenzi’s stage, and she was the star.

”I’ll go!” She shouted forcefully, jumping up and running to the center of the room. She used her powers to force everyone’s attention on her. They should all be enraptured with her without even realizing why. Instantly she felt a pang in her head controlling this many people’s attention, but she ignored it. She had a dance to perform.

She stood in the center of the room and struck a pose. Starting off with something energetic that matched her mood, she played Constantinople by The Residents in her head - something that actually used lyrics effectively and had it assist the melody rather than overshadow it - and started a strange, eclectic dance, moving her body erratically, kicking her legs and thrashing her arms, jumping around and at one point rolling around on the floor. When the song had completed its course in her head, she started another one; Philip Glass’s Einstein On The Beach. She began with the frantic, second part of the opera, tapping her feet on the floor in rapid succession and moving her arms up and down. She tripped over her feet, catching herself as she landed on the floor and tried to do the worm, laughing as she failed desperately. No such thing as failure, after all, it just became part of the dance. She quickly jumped up back to her feet. Next, she moved onto the first part of the opera, moving rhythmically and robotically with each one, two, three, four and etcetera. It had been almost ten minutes and she was sweating profusely, her head was pounding as she forcefully held everyone’s attention, but she kept at it anyway. Finally, she played Andrea’s song in her head. Me Do. It gave the sense of, not simply being in a meadow, but being engulfed in it, becoming it. She swept and swayed and dashed from side to side with attempted grace to the billowing melody of the song. She was breathing heavily, her chest hurt, and her head hurt worse. She didn’t go through the entirety of the song; it lasted five hours and got quite dark as it went on, but she came to an eventual stopping point and after almost fifteen minutes of dancing, again, struck a pose, waiting for the applause, keeping everyone’s attention on her, breathing incredibly heavily, soaked through with sweat. She was seeing black spots in her vision and was feeling quite faint.

At long last, she dropped her hold on everyone’s attention and walked back to where she was sitting and plopped back down. ”So…” she asked the class, grinning, swaying, breathing heavily, her face deathly pale. ”what...what did you think?”

[Maia Morales]

Maia Morales

THEY CALL ME DEVIL, AND YOU SHOULD BE AFRAID

As she volunteered to go next, something of a hush had fallen over the other students. She'd hoped that her volunteering to go next would have inspired others to want to participate as well, but it would seem that possibly having done so had the opposite effect and had in fact made matters much worse.  The brunette took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Perhaps, showing the other teens that she was just a normal girl might be a bit more challenging than she had originally anticipated. Was it possible that her offering to go next was being viewed as showing off by the other students? She certainly hoped not, as that hadn't been her intention at all. Truthfully, it just seemed fun to finally get a chance to let go a little. To get up in front of a group of people with absolutely no idea what to do, no staging, no prepared choreography, no bright lights blinding her... it would be such a rush!

Sighing inwardly, Maia had taken a couple of steps forward when the dark-haired girl with the boundless energy volunteered to perform next in a rather adamant tone as she leaped up and ran into the center of the room. As she zoned in on the dark-haired girl, Maia could sense agitation on the other girl's part but its origin was lost on her. Has she unintentionally cut in line when she stated her intention to go next? The singer didn't have long to contemplate as the teen struck a pose and the brunette felt her attention being drawn towards the dancer. The performance was compelling in its eccentricity. The moves seemed disjointed and yet strangely on beat as if there was a melody that the dancer was listening to that the other students couldn't hear. Every eye in the room was trained on the dark-haired teen, mesmerized with her motions.

Sort of like watching a train wreck, really. Fascinating in its morbidity. The dance lasted for far longer than anyone else's had yet surprisingly Maia's attention never wavered. In fact, come to think of it... no one's attention seemed to shift for the entirety of the young girl's dance. It was kind of weird...creepy even. Once the brunette finally found herself able to tear her gaze away from the scene in front of her, Maia put her hands together into an applause that was rather lackluster. Although she had missed the first half of the class, somehow the teen suspected that the intention of this exercise wasn't to tear one another down, and yet the dancer had requested feedback. It was something of a catch 22 for the brunette, It would be rude to disregard her request and yet could also be off putting to offer a genuine critique.  How was one even supposed to critique a freestyle when she couldn't even identify what genre of dance that had been? Interpretive? Contemporary?

Truthfully, the teenager was still trying to figure out what she'd just seen.  "Well, it definitely left an impression. I would honestly hate to have to be the one to follow that," Maia started. The wors were sincere for more reasons than one. If she performed next then she was sure to steal the other girl's thunder and that wasn't what she'd come here to do. To be honest, Maia was growing weary of always being pitted against other girls. It was such a waste of energy. Besides, her most recently released single "Love Somebody" was charting at No. 1 on the billboard for the third week in a row. She didn't have anything to prove here. Smiling sweetly at the dark haired girl, Maia added "In fact, I think I will sit this one out. I think we all just need some time to digest all that awesomeness."

WORDS: || TAGGED: || MUSIC || NOTES:

 Table by Nightwing™