Author, Teri, Kit, Stana
Date 12/19/99
Title The Dance
Quotable quote from Stana: "SOMEONE STOP THE WORLD-I WANNA GET OFF!"

Teri bit her lip around a grin as she took Audion's hand. There wasn't any
music- this was going to be a bit strange. Not to mention that the fluid
grace he demonstrated simply in getting up from the tavern chair was enough
to make her regret leaving her own seat. When she had wanted to dance- she
had been thinking a bit of R & B, maybe a bit of that bass-heavy inner city
pop that she didn't really understand except that the thudding of the bass in
her breast made it easy to follow the rhythm...

Audion's eyes glimmered with the Chosen's acceptance. Perhaps there may be
hope for information, or at the very least total distraction. He hadn't
danced in so long...the last time had been at his sixteenth year's banquet.
Still, airs were as natural to him as the ocean to the islands. Audion gently
hummed a tune from his homeland, his deceptively low singing voice resonating
enchantingly in his thin throat.

He was placing his hand on her waist in what looked like a complicated
manner. Teri laughed. Normally this would embarrass her enough that she would
have remained in her seat, chatting about nothing in particular... but here
she was, unsteady on her feet, smiling and letting this odd, fey stranger
lead her through the common room tables. She was reminded of the winter
semi-formal back home- she had been equally tipsy then, dressed up and on the
prowl... and to her dismay, there had only been a jazz band playing. she
liked jazz- but she couldn't dance swing. Or anything remotely ballroom. And
she doubted that Audion wanted to do a Pas De Deux.

"I don't know," she was saying, the room blurring slightly as tired, drunken
eyes watched her moving across the floor. "Once there was fire... I remember
that much, but I passed out.. It was before I was named Chosen. All I
remember was being consumed by anger, and hate... and suddenly it was hot all
around.." Hot. she was feeling very hot. It was a strange hot... a hot she
felt settling around the inn's patrons like an embrace. "But other than
that," she found herself continuing, almost unaware of her words as her
attention was focused more on the waving, musky threads glowing from around
the room... "I think it's just.. what you call 'psychic' powers. But mine
aren't 'psychic'. Estela's maybe..."

"Estela?" Audion urged when Teri's voice faltered. She turned a dazed face
towards him.

"Hmm? the water chosen," she said softly, and smiled. The smile lingered as
she continued, a bit distracted by the play of green firelight against the
planes of his pale face. Had she thought him feminine a few hours ago? She
couldn't remember why... She licked dry lips and went on, "It's not about the
mind, really. It's more from within... all around and within. I can feel it
all along me, if I try. The colors, I mean..." She laughed a bit. She didn't
think she was making much sense.

She felt a twinge at his touch- the chilly touch of his fingers mingling with
the dark and storming colors clinging around his form. Amused and raw
reserve- and something else. She felt a hot thrill calling to her, an echo as
he took her hand and swung her around in the beginnings of a foreign dance.

**
"Shinji, I said hand me that bowl." Alissa said testily. It was her turn to
cook, and she wasn't at all happy about it. Especially because Shinji was
slumped against the wall with a vague and silly look on his face.

Shinji handed the bowl to the girl without looking. He had been holding it in
his hands for sometime since she'd first asked him- not purposely to goad
her, as he would have normally done, but rather because he was preoccupied.
He didn't feel so well.

The cavern, he was noticing, was spinning.  He wondered if he should say
something- maybe it was the last meal he had eaten, not agreeing with his
stomach. Then he realized that he had been the last one to cook, and his
pride stayed his tongue.

Still, the walls were dancing, and his head felt heavy. He sat up a bit,
rubbing the bridge of his nose. There was a thick and sour taste in his mouth
that made him thirsty as he tried to place it.  His mind was wandering. He
felt warmth spreading through his limbs. He licked his lips unconsciously.
*****

Clip fretted uneasily. The mortal that he was conferring with was incoherent,
babbling nothings which made less sense than normal to him.

The world was unsteady under his feet, and there was a dim pounding behind
his temples. Putting a hand there momentarily, he tried once more to excuse
himself. Only to find the mans arm thrown around his shoulders.

Clip stiffened, hautuer placing itself firmly in his expression. But even
that was muddled, as were the features of the mortal. For never having known
real sickness, Clip knew that he was feeling decidedly ill. But strangely
uncaring about it.

Giving himself up for comraderie, he began to be drawn back in the embrace,
when the world tilted out of control.  A white strobe stabbed behind his eyes
and he nearly collapsed, the arm a welcome stay. The ground underneath his
feet actually ripple, as if losing cohesion. For a moment, Clip had the
sensation that none of them were truly standing on dirt, but over an abyss.

Then the feeling was gone, and he was reeling from the clutching arm, heading
for the stairs, heedful of a scream noone else was hearing.