#danciingduelist

[toa-diva]

"Hey! Hey, Julian!" Laslow calls, holding up his little rectangular device. "Care to help a friend out? What is this thing? And what's Snapgram? Delancey keeps talking about it."

Laslow waves around his phone. What is this thing?

Julian raises an eyebrow, “Huh? You’re joking, right? That’s a phone...” Is this guy for real? “You can not have gotten this far in life without hearing about the Kiwi phone.”

[carefreemonk]

Send 🎮 to play a round of Crash Bros. against my muse

"That was beginner's luck, Azama," Laslow says sourly, already starting up another game. "I swear I've got the hang of this thing!"

Azama smiles devilishly.

"Sure, sure." Beginner's luck, he says. They're all beginners, though. That aside... "Care to put your money where your mouth is, then?"

He waves his controller slightly.

"Loser does the other's dishes the next three days. Yeah?"

[amitieos]

Bad form not to greet the newest staff member, no?

Laslow always liked the Crimean Queen--she is kind, softspoken, and incredibly talented with a blade. Strange how they were once students together, a mere month or so ago in Fodlan time. Now, while years have passed for him, here they are as teachers.

It makes his head hurt just thinking about it.

So naturally, instead of pondering the flow of time, he purchases a large bouquet of yellow roses in town. (If one or two end up in a maiden's hands before he's soundly rejected and tossed out of the shop, Elincia doesn't need to know!)

"Hel-lo, Elincia! My, you're looking lovely today!" Laslow grins behind his bouquet. "A welcome gift for you. They brighten the space, though I must say your smile brightens it all the more," he continues, setting the vase down on a nearby table.

Gloved fingers reach for her hand, daring to kiss the back of it. "I look forward to working with you, my darling!"

Opening her door to another familiar face brings a bright, cheerful smile to Elincia's face. They had gotten along well as students, in these very same classrooms. Mere months ago. The sands of time however continue to flow in full force, leaving no time for either of them to stand still.

"Good morning, Ini- Laslow! What a wonderful surprise," she accepts the bright yellow blooms gratefully. Such a shower of sunlight on an otherwise ordinary day. Grand displays of affection like this are a rarity in her day to day life. She has seen countless examples and attempts at Crimea's royal court of course, but each one had been insincere and shallow. A power grab, rather than genuine affection. "They're beautiful, thank you so much. I'm sure they'll lift my student's spirits just as much."

Yellow roses - a symbol of joy and friendship. Cheerful and heartwarming, each golden petal honest in it's affection.

Laslow might kiss her hand and call her darling but Elincia sees his words for what they are. A kindness. A hand extended in friendship, one she takes with a smile. Understands as heartfelt camraderie.

"You flatter me, Laslow. More than I deserve," she leans in, hovering on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for coming to welcome me. I look forward to working with you, too."

[damegalantea]

Send 🎤 for a karaoke battle with my muse

He's finally managed to figure out all the buttons and wires on the karaoke machine when Ingrid chances by. "Hey, Ingrid! No better way to practice, eh?"

Send 🎤 for a karaoke battle

Ingrid had at first been, well not afraid but hesitant around this device by the name of "karaoke" - especially, after Delancey had mentioned there were larger, room-sized ones.

But it turned out to only be a singing box. And one with several tunes she recognized from the operas popular in Fhirdiad when she was a girl, albeit with some changes to them.

"It would be nice to sing something with a bit more substance than what we need to for Fiery Emblems," she says, nodding in time with the professor.

"Oh this is an adaptation of the duet from The Secret Tomb where the gentleman thief finally comes clean to his patroness! Would you like to try it with me, professor?"

[carefreemonk]

Azama sees Laslow's pointed stare.

Azama ignores Laslow's pointed stare.

"Isn't that a kiddie group? Didn't know our target audience was a bunch of juveniles."

He sighs dramatically and crosses his arms over his chest. Mayhap he'll be agreeable this once.

"Be that as it may... I can't say I've much else to volunteer. We can go with them so long as their choreography is better than their songs."

He shrugs, ever the essence of nonchalance.

"What say you, Yuri? You still need to follow me on To Witter, by the by. You can find me at AzamatheProphet."

He flashes a winning smile that by coincidence happens to be pointed at one of those strange roving machines overhead. The way they keep vigil over everyone... One wonders if there's someone on the other side.

@aubins

Practice Makes Better!

Nothing wrong with a little friendly competition, eh? Though the way Julian and Delancey are acting both around and away from each other, there’s clearly something way deeper than just some contest. There’s got to be a story there. 

Regardless. Laslow can’t very well call himself the son of a dancer if he fails even the practice portion of Stairway to Stardom. Nerves are shoved deep, deep down inside him; nearly being strangled to death will do that to a person. He’s starting to get comfortable in this “studio.” All the mirrors lining one wall are such a help. As strange as this world is, their dedication to the arts is a huge upgrade from dancing in a wooded clearing. 

He’s a little less confident in his ability to compete with his voice. Mom taught him some things, and he occasionally finds himself singing a verse or two here and there.

“Alright,” Laslow begins, hands on his hips. “We should first agree on a song.” Eyes land directly on Azama. Now is not the time to be argumentative. 

“Everyone seems to love this group called BZS. Singing one of their songs might help us in the popularity rankings!” Hopefully. 

> starter for: @aubins @carefreemonk

[theofficersacademy]

(muffled crying) I'd like to change Laslow's url to, well, Laslow! Thank you!!

Laslow’s URL danciingduelist has been changed to laslow!

- Mod Key

[diryrja]

AW BEANS.

Letizia has always prided herself on her sharp, analytic mind.

          Though she despises contingencies, she could navigate through them with relative ease. The path to survival is not always straight, and she must be prepared to walk the crooked road. But this? Being dropped into a world devoid of things she knows and full of unknowns is disorienting, alarmingly so. So many words are spoken at her, and yet she does understand a single syllable. She cannot even fathom how such a thing is possible.

         The ‘ performance ’ ends without much fanfare, and the women are escorted into a vehicle unlike any other Letizia has ever seen. They are then transported — rather quickly, Letizia marvels — to a similar-looking setting in a different area. An unfortunately familiar sight of bright, glaring lights and strange, looming machines meets her as Letizia steps onto the ‘ set, ’ where she is then arranged into a single-file line alongside her temporary allies and that Delancey girl.  Even more words Letizia cannot possibly comprehend in the time it is presented to her are spoken at her, before the group breaks off to … wherever.

         Her head aches, but Letizia fights off a scowl for the time being. There is one thing she knows for certain: they are being watched. By who, Letizia hasn’t the faintest idea, but the way those manuerving those strange, lensed machines follow their every move… Letizia cannot shake the feeling she is being surveyed. Though she does not know who is watching her, maintaining a spotless image is now more imperative than it has ever been. Whoever is watching, she wants them on her side. 

         But before she can worry about her image, she must first worry about the matter of the rules of this new world. She already senses she cannot cast here, a fact she cannot deny makes her feel a pinch antsy. They do not seem to be in any immediate danger at the moment, and it makes Letizia wonder if they can even be hurt here. After all, this is some sort of pretend-fairy tale-performing arts fantasy, right? There would be no need for matters of life and death in such a story. But just to make sure…

         “Laslow, isn’t it?” Letizia calls, approaching the Blue Lions Professor. She has wiped off her heavy black liner and lipstick, opting for a fresher, more girlish kind of look. It is easier to lure others in this way. “...I apologize if this seems rather forward, but there has been something on my mind ever since we arrived. Would you mind coming somewhere more… private to speak? Away from these people… don’t you find them so unsettling?”

@danciingduelist

[toa-diva]

"Hey, Julian!" Laslow greets, a box of crackers in hand. "Say, you got a minute?"

He offers his teammate the open box, hoping to break the ice. Eyes dart to the camera casually resting in one ceiling corner. Being constantly watched grates on his nerves. Still, he's grateful there will be witnesses this time around. It wouldn't do to ruin his singing voice by being strangled again. (Ah, the things he does for love!)

"You know Delancey far better than I. Does she like tea? Just because we're competing doesn't mean I can't spend some quality time with her!" Eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins. "I even thought of the perfect pick-up line. I wish half of the stars in the sky would shine as brightly as your eyes."

One shoulder bumps into Julian's. "Not bad, eh?"

Julian silently glares at Laslow for as long as he can bear, beyond a comfortable amount of time. "Seriously, man...?" This one is my least favorite.

-

"No, not too bad." Delancey would never ignore a conversation with her name in it, and so she makes her entrance into the dining room, grinning at the sight of Laslow's grand smile and Julian's pouty-face. "A little dated i-m-o, but I have a soft spot for old souls."

She tilts her head at the two of them, feeling somewhat drawn towards them. Well, one of them... With a sidelong glance at Julian, Delancey inserts herself into their little conversation. "Ooh, I love those crackers! De-lish~, I can never get enough of them." She looks expectantly at Laslow. "They're not blue-team exclusive crackers, are they? A pretty poor way to treat a girl if so."

[carefreemonk]

[10:44PM] LOL you got me! Guilty as charged! (LOL is short for Laughing Out Loud if you didn't know).

What a marvelous little device...

... and yet, azama is nowhere to be found...?

Dancer turns his head, gaze intent in the mirror. Is that....pink in his hair? A tiny thread of it running just above the left ear, normally covered by the other layers of silver.

Naga, he's missed his normal color, though the shock of seeing a different appearance greet him every time he caught his reflection eventually wore off.

Huh. He'll have to ask Owain and Sev if they've noticed any changes since leaving Nohr, once they all return from their ink and paper worlds.

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

Laslow jumps. Hands fly from his hair, covering his one pink strand as he reaches for a weapon no longer attached to his hip. (Old habits and all.) Another moment passes before he realizes it's the...smartphone in his back pocket. The more he learns about this device, the odder it gets.

Fingers fumble with the screen, trying to remember which little icon does what before he finds the one for text messages.

Huh? Oh, no. Did Azama see him practicing his dance routine?

[10:43 PM] What do you mean?

[10:43 PM] Wait. You're just lying again to get attention.

Laslow puts the phone down on the counter, determined to ignore Azama for as long as he can.

[theofficersacademy]

"Hello, mods!" It has been a fantastic almost three years writing Inigo, and I believe it's time for a change in the winds as it were. I'd like to switch to writing Laslow instead! For ease of separation, I did create a new blog, @danciingduelist. Thank you!!

Inigo is now Laslow and has changed URLs to danciingduelist. Please follow this new blog.

- Mod Ree

[zesevral]

Lights, Camera, Disaster!

danciingduelist​:​​

Had he seen Shez moving, he would have stopped it. First rule of charming your way back into a pretty girl’s good graces: do not piss them off further. As it stands, he can only watch his fellow Blue Lion tumble gracelessly to the floor.

Julian comes to their rescue, his rising annoyance rolling off him in waves. This is turning sour, fast, and Laslow gets the distinct feeling they are being watched by more than just the people currently in the room. All those odd looking machines–they remind of of that picture box from the ball, now that he thinks about it–do little to ease his nerves. 

An embarrassed flush threatens to bloom along his cheeks. Laslow unconsciously reaches for his earring, seeking the familiar curve of metal to soothe frazzled nerves. He’s meet with a bar instead; brows twitch in confusion. Fingers continue to feel out the new shape of the earring while doing his best to remain relaxed. A small cross hangs off a delicate metal chain. Strange; his hand drops back into his lap. 

Any further attempts at trying and utterly failing to not make fools of themselves are cut off by the arrival of who Laslow assumes is their host. 

A man struts back onstage: with flowing magenta locks, an immaculate white suit, and a rainbow bowtie, the crowd goes absolutely wild when he appears. "RYAN! RYAN! RYAN! OHHHHHH!!!!" 

He sits in the big chair opposite yours with a wide smile on his face. "Welcome back to the Kinda-Late Show! now, if you’re just tuning in, I have the boys from Team Tschirnhaus here with me today to promote the new season of Stairway to Stardom—premiering next Thursday here on MMC. Now, let’s get going with what we’ve all been waiting for, Never Have I Ever!”

 The crowd goes wild. “Pass these down,” Ryan tells Julian, and your new teammate passes over a stack of circlular signs with handles, one for each of you. One side shows “I HAVE” in blue letters on a white background. The other shows “I HAVEN’T” in white letters on a blue background.

 "We all know how this works, right? I’ll ask you guys a question and you’ll have to answer with ‘I have’ if you did,“ the host demonstrates with his own sign, "or 'I’ve haven’t if you’ve never” He flips the sign to the other side. “Simple enough, right? Complete honesty now, we’ll know if you’re lying!” The crowd loves that. “Alrighty! First question…. Never have I ever drunk-dialed an ex.”

Team huh? Sounds like something Odin would come up with, though Tsch-whatever sounds more like a sneeze than an actual name. Laslow risks a glance at his companions, who are all equally bewildered. 

Is this the quiz show Julian was grumbling about earlier? Whew, at least they’re not having to answer questions about whatever Stairway to Stardom is. He idly twirls the sign in his hand while their host talks. 

Dialed? What does that mean? He can’t say he’s done that before, though the meaning is clear enough. Does crying over an ex count? It’s certainly happened before. 

Dancer shrugs a little, turning his full attention on the crowd behind those strange machines. They seem to be eager for a show–Laslow tosses them one of his signature smiles, holding up the blue and white “I HAVEN’T” sign. 

>baton pass: @zesevral​

From his position on the floor, Shez can see the rest of the party staring down at him with expressions ranging from shock to outright amusement. He can feel the tips of his ears start to burn and hopes his face isn't turning red to match. Before he can move an inch to help himself, he feels a pair of hands roughly grab him by his upper arm and yank him back onto the sofa.

Julian hurries over and pulls Shez's ass back to the seat, hissing "Are you serious? What's with you?? Trying to sabotage us or what?"

"No" Shez mumbles once back in his seat. "It was an accident, just wanted to stretch my legs" In hindsight this had been a stupid thing to attempt especially based on the look that managerial type lady had given Laslow when he tried a similar thing. Now he had pissed off the already grumpy addition to thier crew even more.

Luckily, any further interactions and embarrassments were cut short by the arrival of their flamboyant host Ryan and the start of whatever 'show' they were taking part in. It seemed like a quiz show with bright signs flashing based on their answer. Shez gave Laslow a curious look at his answer to the question trying to use their answer to understand what the context of the question meant. Not that it offered many clues.

Shez became aware of Ryan looking to him expectantly. Damn, it was his turn. From the others he guessed an 'EX' was a past lover or similar. Well that made his response easier. Holding up the corresponding sign, Shez confidently stated "I haven't". The part he neglected to mention was the fact that he'd never even had a lover so there was no EX to 'dial'. Minor details.

Checking the others for any responses, he saw blank almost bored expressions. He'd gotten away with no further questions on his answer. Once others had given their replies, Ryan gave them all another overly bright smile. All teeth.

"Alright, next question... Never have I ever spent a night in jail." Julian's flips to "I haven't"

At least he clearly understood this question. Sighing Shez reluctantly flipped his sign to say 'I HAVE'. "Multiple nights" He added. It wasn't his fault when these event had occurred. Absolutely not, they'd all just been misunderstandings on their part. He couldn't be expected to memorise every rule out there to ensure he was abiding by them all the time. Granted, arguing back probably did more to earn him a night in a cell than simply acting contrite but that would unjust. And Shez disliked that. Most of the charges were related to breaking and entering so nothing too extreme. Those 'NO ENTRY' signs could be hard to spot.

Julian looks surprised. Ryan ohohos, "Multiple nights! He's a troublemaker, ladies." More laughter from the audience. "What did you get arrested for?"

Of course Ryan would ask for new details. "Just a few misunderstandings on the part of the law officers" He insisted, feeling the need to defend himself. "Found my way into a few places I shouldn't have"

"What sort of places?"

"Places places" Shez replies flippantly. "Mostly abandoned or at least I thought they were"

Julian butts in this time, leaning in with genuine interest, "Oh! Are you like those guys that explore abandoned amusement parks?"

"Maybe" Shez said in a deliberately vague and mysterious tone. In all honesty, the breaking and entering was the least of the reasons for his stays in jail cells but it was a given that tales of assault and resisting arrest, maybe some light thievery would not go down well. Well it might with Julian and Ryan.

Shez looked towards Merric and Laslow, hoping one of the them could bail him out of this conversation.

@windsheedme @danciingduelist

[carefreemonk]

"If you say so," he agrees to disagree with a shrug. Regardless, it's a studious mien Azama sports as he stands next to Laslow and watches the screen play out his picks. (Let none say he can't be a team player... when and if he feels like it.) Brows furrow at the first, but lift at the second.

"That one. We should do that one. The first barely had any actual dancing to choreograph," he says with a grin and a teasing scowl, lightly bopping Laslow on the shoulder.

"But this one... 'Bloom Bloom'? ... It's got a decent rhythm and something we could actually adapt for a live audience methinks. Check it."

And so he goes, taking a fanciful couple of steps away, and attempts an imitation of what they'd just seen.

... Is it that he's trolling, that he sucks, or that he's simply not had enough practice with it yet?

Yes.

@aubins

Practice Makes Better!

aubins:

Yuri, for their part, is content to let the pair bicker and play audience to it before Azama calls their name. A hand flaps idly in their direction as they kick off from where they lean against the wall, strolling over to join them. “I’m not picky. Do whatever you please.” Then, lilac eyes drag to settle upon Azama, brow arching. He says it like it’s a given that they should. It’s not. “Maybe if you earn it, friend.”

Though silver tongue is sharp as ever, the mockingbird’s feathers are uncharacteristically drooped and their words twice as curt than necessary. Their faint veneer of pleasantries continues to slip the longer they idle away, waiting for a song to be chosen, the restless tapping of their fingers against a leg their only distraction.

Choose: play the pretty little songbird once more to be leered at, or risk being thrust into a world they barely understand alone? And that Yuri, ever loathe to acknowledge that there is something they do not know, even considers the second option for a heartbeat speaks more to the bile that rises in their throat at the first than words ever could.

They are thirteen again, smiling and whispering pretty nothings into some disgusting noble’s ear. Hair always longer than they want it to be, memory always straining to remember the lyrics to the songs in that evening’s opera, body always bruised, always battered, always not theirs. They crawl out of their own skin and watch and remind themself that this is what they must do to survive.

Yuri would do it again. Unthinkingly and unflinchingly, they would do it again. But they say nothing of the sort, only smiling to match the one that Azama flashes to a camera overhead, and turn to Laslow. “Well then? What’s on the playlist for today?”

TAG !   @danciingduelist

“It’s not a kiddie group, they just look young.” Laslow scoffs, arms crossing. “And their choreography is amazing. The precision of their timing alone must take weeks to perfect, not to mention how clean everything looks. Do you know how hard it is to make your moves look so effortless? And they do it all in perfect sync–” 

Cheeks bloom red as he cuts himself off. “W-well, we can discuss choreography later. I put some stuff together on Kiwi Music last night.” With a lot of trial and error on his end–the phone’s surface is so sensitive! Lightly tap the wrong thing on accident and you end up giving a song a thumbs down when all you really wanted to do was go back and find the one song you actually did like. 

Laslow fishes his phone out of a back pocket, quiet as he pulls up the music. “This one’s called Hello.” For effect, he looks up, waving at their ever-present camera. He presses pause once the first chorus ends. “Or, I really liked this one, Bloom Bloom.” Bright electric pop begins to play. Fingers unconsciously tap along; this song was made to be danced to. 

“I have others,” he says, once the last note fades. “I want to hear your opinions, first.” 

baton pass: @carefreemonk​ !

[zesevral]

Lights, Camera, Disaster!

danciingduelist​:

Well. This is certainly new. 

Laslow was sure he’d seen it all when it comes to magical-and-or-draconic interference, but this takes the cake. Damn, what he wouldn’t give for some lemon cake with chocolate frosting to settle his nerves. 

Ever since he opened his eyes, everything has been an assault on the senses. The garish lights overhead, the discomfort of his (thankfully) slate blue suit. Nothing like the utter horror of Azama’s outfit, though knowing him, he probably wanted it that way. 

Dancer rubs his eyes. He shifts a little in his seat, desperate for some cool air. Oh, Naga. Attention lands on the gigantic…projection of their pictures behind their row of chairs. Their names glow cheerily below a picture Laslow does not remember taking—at least they got his good side! 

Voices pull him away from his examination. Azama, as usual, running his mouth. So there was a disaster, huh? Not surprising, given that they quite literally blinked and were transported to…wherever they are. Laslow tunes out the current conversation, again risking a glance around to find an incredibly irritated woman behind the stage. That won’t do at all! 

Dazzling smile in place, he plants his hands on the armrests, leather creaking at the motion. He begins to stand, and as if he’d triggered some kind of trap, the woman snaps her head up. A glare to end all glares sets her considerably lovely features into stone. Chastised from ten feet away, Laslow settles back into his seat. 

“Tough crowd, eh?” He leans over, whispering to Merric. 

>baton pass! @windsheedme , @zesevral

Shez blinked under the bright lights shinning down on them. Ridding his vision of lens flares, he was able to make out some of his compatriots squashed on this rather uncomfortable sofa beside him. They all appeared to be wearing tight fitting suits in ostentatious colours. (Especially Azama) A quick glance down confirmed that he too was dressed in similar fashion. At least it was purple (his favourite) and not too outlandish if a but confining. 

Turning his head at the sound of voices, Shez begun trying to piece together what had led up to this moment. There wasn’t much to go on other than a composed person at the other end of the couch muttering about disasters whilst being harassed by Azama. He spots Laslow next to him begin to rise from his seat before sinking back again. Following his gaze, he spots a woman glaring at them with a glower which a gorgon would be proud of. 

Shez was feeling a bit restless, shifting on the sofa, uncomfortable under the lights and projectors pointed at him. Only offering the briefest nod to his life choices, Shez rises from his seat intending to stretch his legs for a bit. He was assuming they weren’t in the middle of anything given the conversations around him. 

He could feel the woman’s glare intensify as he moved but decided to ignore it. This worked . . . for all of 30 seconds before he found himself on the floor with an almighty CRASH! 

Tripping over his own feet, unused to the smart shoes they had on, Shez now lay sprawled out on the floor looking up at the rest of the party on the sofa. The back of his neck was burning with the look the woman off stage was giving him. He didn’t need to look to realise she would likely be spitting fire. 

“Errr. . .  not my smartest move”  He said with an apprehensive grin at Merric and Laslow.  

@windsheedme​ @danciingduelist​

Lights, Camera, Disaster!

Well. This is certainly new. 

Laslow was sure he’d seen it all when it comes to magical-and-or-draconic interference, but this takes the cake. Damn, what he wouldn’t give for some lemon cake with chocolate frosting to settle his nerves. 

Ever since he opened his eyes, everything has been an assault on the senses. The garish lights overhead, the discomfort of his (thankfully) slate blue suit. Nothing like the utter horror of Azama’s outfit, though knowing him, he probably wanted it that way. 

Dancer rubs his eyes. He shifts a little in his seat, desperate for some cool air. Oh, Naga. Attention lands on the gigantic…projection of their pictures behind their row of chairs. Their names glow cheerily below a picture Laslow does not remember taking—at least they got his good side! 

Voices pull him away from his examination. Azama, as usual, running his mouth. So there was a disaster, huh? Not surprising, given that they quite literally blinked and were transported to…wherever they are. Laslow tunes out the current conversation, again risking a glance around to find an incredibly irritated woman behind the stage. That won’t do at all! 

Dazzling smile in place, he plants his hands on the armrests, leather creaking at the motion. He begins to stand, and as if he’d triggered some kind of trap, the woman snaps her head up. A glare to end all glares sets her considerably lovely features into stone. Chastised from ten feet away, Laslow settles back into his seat. 

“Tough crowd, eh?” He leans over, whispering to Merric. 

>baton pass! @windsheedme , @zesevral