Closed An Unexpected Pupil

Who would have guessed? [Matthew]

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Center of scholarly knowledge and shipwrighting, Zeltiva is a port city unlike any other in Mizahar. [Lore]

An Unexpected Pupil

Postby Oriah on December 30th, 2013, 7:00 am

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Spring, Day 12, 511AV

A quiet hush fell over the tavern as the dancer appeared, a dark veil covering her arms, nose, and lips. There were no announcements, no advertisements prior to that moment. She simply walked over the freshly swept floors with slow, deliberate grace, turning once she was at the center of the room to face the musicians.

Oriah was nervous. It was always risky, performing traditional Benshira dance outside of the deserts themselves, where musicians of her people were scarce if not impossible to find, and few knew what to expect or appreciate. But, for these very same reasons, the dancer felt a thrill of determination and pride. Every success, every performance followed through in such foreign lands was a feat on its own. She felt as though she was a traveling teacher in some ways, except instead of books, stories, or songs, she taught with the curves of her body, the patterns of her feet, and the swirling of her veil.

To bring greater understanding of her own culture while obtaining that of others--there were fewer things more noble in the Benshira's mind.

As luck would have it, that night at World's End Grotto, Yahal had seemingly brought together two of his followers to perform his will. Ramid had not even been playing when Oriah had caught sight of him, sitting by himself, his drum kept snugly in its case as it say by his sandaled feet.

When the girl slid from her seat and joined him at his table, introducing herself as Oriah, from the tents of Alachi, of the sons of Malech, the joy in Ramid's crystalline eyes mirrored her own. For a long time, they simply chatted in their native tongue, reveling in the immense pleasure of its familiarity.

And then, when she explained that she earned her bread and shelter through dancing, he got up without another word and went to speak with the trio musicians playing for the night at the tavern. A few chimes later, he was back, a warm smile on his weathered face. He told her that these musicians, who were his friends, would be honored if they could accompany her in a traditional dance. They knew a little of Benshira melodies, courtesy of their friendship with Ramid, and would have no trouble following her.

Gods above, how Oriah had nearly lost her composure right then and there. The next thing she knew, she was emerging from her temporary room with her dress and veil, the coins jingling faintly as she descended the stairs. Her outlandish garb had instantly attracted the attention of the other customers. The girl's heart was beating so fast she almost turned tail to run, but Ramid's encouraging smile reassured her.

As she glided past, the other musicians nodded to her in respectful acknowledgement. One was a woman on fiddle, another on the lute, and a third with a tambourine. And, last but not least, was Ramid, sitting on a wooden chair, his drum held comfortably between his left thigh and arm.

When they began to play, all of her fears and worries melted away. Her mind was transported thousands of miles back to the hot sands stretching infinitely in all directions, to nights of open fires and vibrant mashas.

The fiddler was drawing out long, luxurious on her lower strings, following Oriah's languid movements as she twisted the veil through the air, keeping most of her face and body hidden from view. The silky cloth moved like water as it rippled with her movements, allowing only a peek here and there of the dancer. Then she tossed it in a straight line and spun, guiding the veil into a quick spiral that wrapped around her entire form, round and round until it touched the floor. Oriah flicked it up and over her head one last time. Her fingers released the edge of the cloth and it fluttered away behind her to fall into a limp heap.

A moment of silence held as she kept perfectly still, her arms framing her face as she leaned backwards in a graceful arch.

And then the music burst to life with a fast paced drum solo. Ramid held nothing back as he displayed his incredible mastery of his instrument and Oriah followed suit. Every pop, every tek, every doum was met with a rhythmic lift of the chest, bump of the hips, and jerk of the shoulders. When the solo slowed, she slowed with it, her belly undulating, her head tilting up or to the side along with each accent of the beat.

As the drum solo neared its end, Ramid's hands pushing the beat faster and faster, she began to shimmy, the coins on her dress matching in rhythm to the tambourine. When the drummer then transitioned into a serious of impossibly flawless rolls, Oriah threw her body into a spinning blur, going faster and faster, her arms rising high above her head.

And then Ramid signaled the end with three final notes, and on the last she came to a dead stop, her finishing pose immaculate. The tavern burst into thunderous applause, most of the audience having never seen such a performance.

Oriah bowed, moving to the side and extending an arm to allow the fabulous musicians a chance to shine as well. Then the quartet struck up the melody once more for her final exit. She bounced back to her feet, throwing a few more moves for the cheering crowd, and picked up her veil as she danced on tip toe until she was completely out of the room.

In the dark of the stairway, Oriah let her back sink against the wall as she panted from exertion. She felt as though nothing could exceed that moment in happiness.

"Thank you," she offered up to the air.


Last edited by Oriah on January 4th, 2014, 6:45 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Double Trouble

Postby Matthew on December 30th, 2013, 3:33 pm



He wasn't supposed to be here, not really. He hadn't specifically came here because of that, as he wasn't the rebellious sort. It was more of a curiosity that plagued him, and he had to cure it. The Grotto had recently started advertising a "dance night", which was a place of alchohol and men, neither of which he mixed very well with. The only women were the servers and the dancers, and some of the higher-ups in Zeltiva (his parents included) whispered about how shameful it was to go and see them. He had seen a playful sparkle in his father's eyes though, which had recieved a glare from his mother. They had embraced soon after. He really didn't understand how their affection for each other operated. Whatever the case, it was obvious that this night was somewhat taboo. Why though? The owner of the place, Miss Serra, cast Matthew an amused grin as she saw the young man sitting at attention on the front row. He ignored her, praying she wouldn't come and tease him.

Matthew had come here to study though, and study he would, regardless of any teasing. He was certainly a bit out of place. He sat in his front-row seat with an intense stare plastered on his handsome face, blue eyes sharp and studious. He had dressed up for the occassion, a black jacket well-fitted above a red button-up shirt underneath, and a nice set of slacks to complete the look. He appeared as if he was going to some sort of formal event, not as if he was at the Grotto to enjoy a drink. His "drink" was just a tall glass of water, labeled "beer" with a piece of chalk. Another little joke by Serra, who found it forever funny that Matthew only indulged in water. Whenever he told her to hold the ice, she only ever burst out into more giggles.

He wasn't even here to see Serra, and past memories of her were already starting to aggrivate him.

The next dancer yanked Matthew out of his thoughts, his steady stare broken by a single blink. The woman was barely dressed. He supposed that made sense. A lack of clothing would allow for a bit more movement, would it not? His sharp gaze studied her carefully as she moved to the front of the audience, noticing the grace at which she walked. It was more of a "flow" than a normal walk. Then there was the dark veil, the dress, and then there were some coins dangling around her face... his eyes narrowed, the young man trying to figure out the purpose of the unique garb. The coins were making soft jingling sounds, so perhaps the noise was part of the dance? Seeking more information, he tuned in to some of the other men around him.

"Heeeeey, this is the kind of dance I think we should have more of."

"Yep, she's a pretty lass, isn't she? Doesn't appear to be from around here. Exotic. Exotic is always alluring."

Matthew tuned them back out. Completely useless information. Well, besides the fact that she was a foreigner. Now that it had been brought up, he could see the differences. Her skin tone, the general shape of her body, the faded and shadowed outline of her face underneath the veil. It was fairly hard to see her fully though, because of the outfit she wore. Was that the whole point? Matthew leaned forward as she began the dance, lifting a single hand to brush his black bangs aside. The young man was carefully groomed, soft features and styled hair giving him something of a feminine beauty. That, along with the steady analyzing stare made him stick out like even more of a sore thumb. His eyes flicked to the fiddler, and then back to the dancer, trying to put all the pieces together. The song was slow and only included one instrument, and the dancer was moving slowly as well. She was skilled with the cloth though, and Matthew noted how she was using it in an almost teasing manner. Interesting. He made a mental note, having quite the curiosity on different methods of sultry teasing. Would it work just as well with a man?

The sudden drum solo jolted Matthew, and much to the amusement of Ramid, Matthew jerked back with a brief look of surprise on his face. The dancer seemed to be anticipating it, and Matthew watched as she moved her body in quite the variety of ways. First there was the lift of the chest, then the hips, then her shoulders. Parts of her body seemed to move and jerk independantly, and Matthew discreetly tried to copy the jerk of her chest with a slight jerk of his own. He failed miserably, merely managing to shimmy from the waist up. Gnawing on his lower lip, he made another mental note in the back of his head. He'd have to practice that one a bit further. The purpose of the coins finally became clear as their beat joined the rest of the song, and then with a few blurred spins, the dance was suddenly over. The crowd went wild, but Matthew just sat still, eyes now focused on the woman. As she bowed her way out of the room, the young man stood, moving after her. He noticed one other man moving towards where she has vanished as well, and Matthew quietly summoned a quick swirl of his magic and directed it into a brief moment of eye contact with his competitor. A single thought injected into the man's mind, and a somewhat harsh one at that. ...I should wait until this feminine fellow has had his go. Then I'll know if she wants a real man or not. Matthew had directed an insult towards himself into the man's mind, but it was the correct one to insert. He had noticed men often reacted with a somewhat dominant air when it came to women. The man had came up with quite the masculine excuse for letting Matthew talk to Oriah first, even if it was only an excuse to cover up his own insecurity.

Matthew entered the dark stairwell, his soft voice echoing out to respond to the two words he just barely managed to catch. "You are welcome. The audience certainly enjoyed your show. We have never seen anything like it before." His tall and slim form moved closer, offering her a polite handshake, blue eyes locked on her own. "I am Matthew, it is a pleasure to meet you. I have a dance to attend here in a few nights, and I'd like you to teach me how to dance, and then come along as my date." His eyes stared, unblinking. He was bold and forward with his approach, without a hint of shame or hesitation. She was perfect for an idea that had just now hatched, and he would be persistant in trying to get her involved.

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Double Trouble

Postby Oriah on December 31st, 2013, 10:05 pm

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The coins on her dress clinked suddenly as Oriah jumped at the unexpected response. For the briefest of moments, she thought perhaps Yahal himself had whispered the words "you are welcome" into her ears. But, then the true speaker went on to compliment her for the performance and such a ridiculous assumption was quickly abandoned, her senses gradually returning.

"Th-thank you," she managed to stutter in Common. Turning, Oriah could see that the opening to the stairwell was now partially blocked by the tall, slim frame of a young man. Even in the dimness, she could see his eyes were blue and features alluring. He had a beauty about him that she seldom saw, one that inspired thoughts of supple roses and fine wine, rather than sweaty brawls and unwashed hair, the latter of which she was more accustomed to when it came to men.

The young man offered a polite hand, introducing himself as Matthew. Oriah returned his gesture with a firm shake and replied, "Oriah, and likewise," secretly marveling at how smooth his palms felt compared to hers.

Then he laid down his proposal right then and there, and she almost choked on her own surprise.

The dancer took a moment to collect her wits. "So you are saying...you would like for me to be your teacher?" She wasn't entirely sure what a "date" was, other than being a fruit one could eat, but it was safe to assume Matthew wanted her to accompany him to this event. Though, as a guest, a teacher, a friend, or something else, she could only leave to speculation.

Would he pay? He certainly looked as though he could, dressed as finely as he was. Oriah, however, was less concerned with issues of coin and moreso on whether she was truly the sort of instructor he was looking for.

Matthew's image, though dashing, practically oozed wealth and respectability. And while Oriah wasn't exactly a barbarian, she wasn't nobility either. For one, she was foreign. A Benshira no less, hardened by desert sands and turbulent travels. For another, she had no finery whatsoever to speak of. She couldn't very well show up at a formal gathering in her travel garb or, Yahal forbid, her dance wear. It was fitting for her art, but not amongst the upper crust of Zeltiva's elites.

"I am always happy to teach another the joys of dancing," she continued her answer, choosing her words carefully, "but, I must question if I'm the right choice. You seem...respectable, and I am but a humble traveler with not a jewel or fine dress to her name. Are you sure it is me you would like to learn from?"

Oriah rubbed her arm absently, unsure of how her words had come across. A part of her had gushed at the very chance to attend something so mysterious and privileged. She had occasionally caught glimpses of such events taking place, with attendants arriving in all manners of dazzling ensembles. It would be a fantastic experience to be part of something so grand, so mesmerizing.

But, could she truly play the part?


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Double Trouble

Postby Matthew on December 31st, 2013, 11:20 pm



She seemed slightly surprised by his proposal, as well as slightly confused by some part of it. He wasn't so sure which emotion went with which part of his offer, but she seemed to gather her wits about her quite well, which he appreciated. People often seemed put off by his straight-forward attitude, which confused him. Why not say what you wanted, or phrase what you were thinking? It was the quickest and most effective way. It was common sense to Matthew, but to alot of other people it seemed to be... different. They would rather be confusing and sly. He supposed he could understand it, somewhat. He wasn't offended by it or opposed to it, the whole idea just seemed odd to him.

Dragging his attention back to the conversation, he gave a short and quick nod at her offered name. "That is a pretty name." It was obvious that the comment was merely a polite one, as the lack of emotion put into it was easy to hear. A small smile accompanied the compliment at least, showing that his intention were good.

At her question, he just gave a slow nod, blue eyes steadily holding her own. At her next question, he narrowed his eyes, briefly looking confused and then quietly explaining himself. "Yes, I am absolutely sure. For one of many reasons." He lifted a hand in the dim light, a single finger extending to point at different parts of her as he explained slowly and clearly. Even his words seemed all proper, pronounced carefully and without any sort of accent to them. "Your height is somewhere around... 5'7?" His eyes began to flick over her, scanning every little bit of her in this very analytical way, soaking in every single bit of her. It was almost the way men looked at her sometimes, but without the odd glow in their eyes. He seemed to just be studying, as if she was something he was committing to memory. His eyes certainly weren't shy about it.

"You seem to be the perfect height for a dance partner. You are attractive, with a fit and curvy body. You are well-groomed, and seem to enjoy showing off these assets. You had a certain joy about your face, both because of the dancing, and perhaps because of the audience? I think you would like to show off in a large and fancy dance, and quite honestly, I would like that too." He lifted his arms, crossing them over the other, tilting his head as he finished his study of her and glanced back into her eyes. "I am supposed to bring a girl that I am attracted to, but most of the girls I should be attracted to... well, the whole thing just isn't something I enjoy, but I have to go. So why not find someone who I don't know at all, who no one else knows, and try to learn something from it? At least it won't be boring that way."

Quite a mouthful. It had been simplier in his head. He was very forward and open with all of his compliments, pointing out each of her perks like he was describing details on a intricant piece of clothing. Leaning a broad shoulder against the wall, he paused long enough to let her process, and then continued on. "So, in short, I would like you to be the girl that I am attracted to. I think your dance outfit would be fine, but it may not go over well. If you like, we could go dress shopping. I insist on something you like, though. The whole point of this is to take you dancing, not something boring."

He glanced down to her hips, and for a brief moment, there was a spark in his eyes. A curious spark. It was noticable amongst the normally calm exterior he wore, and the reason for the shift in expression soon became apparent. His voice was notably more eager as he hesistantly spoke the rest of what he had to say. "More importantly to me, I would like to learn how you danced like that. How did you move your chest and stomach? I am studying medicine, but eventually look to become a prostitute. Your movements were seductive, but I can't seem to match them. Do you think women would even find such a thing attractive?" The conversation took a sudden sharp turn, but Matthew didn't even seem to notice. He actually sounded enthusiastic. "This is a secret of course, my family would despise me. But anyways. Look, see?" He stood straight and motioned down to his hips, hugged rather well by his slacks. He gave a soft jerk of his waist, trying to lift his hips in the sharp and sultry motion that she had, but only managed to wiggle sharply in place. He looked at her helplessly, frustration apparent. For whatever reason, he wanted to learn how to dance like a Benshira woman. Matthew himself wasn't aware of the absurdity of it all.

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Double Trouble

Postby Oriah on January 1st, 2014, 3:17 am

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There was something unsettling about Matthew. Not, Oriah thought, in an eerie sort of way, just an alien one. He was so...calculating. Logical. Practical. Nothing about him, from they way he dressed to the way he spoke, was frivolous or in excess. He did and said exactly what he wanted or needed, no more and no less.

As Oriah stood there, slightly dumbstruck, the man rattled off just about every attribute she possessed that fit his bill. She spoke once in the beginning to correct him on her height. "Eight, not seven." And then she remained silent, utterly stunned by his straightforwardness.

Once he was done, the Benshira folded her arms and squinted at him. She wasn't sure what she should be feeling now, but he certainly had her attention. "I am more inclined to humility, but in a sense, yes, you are right. I do like to deliver a good presentation, and looking the part goes without saying."

It was a little unnerving, the way he had stared at her as though she were a well preserved animal pinned to the wall. She'd seen one of those before at some hospital or other. It was downright bizarre.

But, on some strange, infrequently visited level, she understood him. Understood his brashness and his determination to achieve his personal ends by the quickest and most efficient means. Life was certainly easier that way, even if such an approach earned you an endless share of odd looks and occasional reproach. At least he wasn't amoral, or rude. There was nothing unsavory about his requests. In fact, the girl had to admit it was rather exciting to receive such an outlandish request.

"I...like that idea," she answered with hesitance, as if she didn't quite believe her own words. Not right away, at least. She struggled to think of how to address the other issues when Matthew came unexpectedly to her aid.

Oriah felt as though she'd been struck by mild lightning at his next words. Though he covered a number of subjects, only one word really stuck in her mind.

Shopping.

"Yes," she murmured. Then, louder, "Yes. I'll do it."

Matthew may or may not have heard her, as he was now speaking again, this time quite eagerly. If it hadn't been for all of his surprises before, Oriah's jaw would have dropped at his mention of becoming a prostitute. She could think of a hundred and one reasons why that ought to offend her sensibilities, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to dislike him. Instead, she listened.

Then he jerked his waist in an attempt to mimic what Oriah had done only moments before. She couldn't help it. She burst out laughing.

"You will be, I think," she mused through fits of mirth, "My most interesting pupil yet. Come, the stairs are a poor place to practice. I've rented a room here. We can practice what you want to learn there."

With that, she took Matthew by the hand and led him up the dark stairwell.


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Double Trouble

Postby Matthew on January 2nd, 2014, 9:31 pm



"Eight, right, of course. I apologize." Oddly enough, out of everything Matthew had just said, his apology on getting her height wrong seemed to be the one most genuine. But when the woman picked a single word out of all he threw out at her, he actually felt a bit of amusement bubbling deep inside of him. The amusement only deepened when she laughed at his dance attempt. He had no doubt he looked funny, but it was definitely nice that it was his awful attempt at dancing that had caught her eye. He couldn't help feel slightly... refreshed that she had taken his ideal profession in stride, without the slightest bit of judgement. For the briefest of moments, the smallest of actual smiles lifted the corners of his full lips.

Then they were going up the stairs, and suddenly he was a pupil. Emotion once again bubbled in the pit of his stomach, this time in the form of excitement. He was quick to gain control over it, but still was looking forward to learning this new skill. Learning was one of the very few things that made genuine excitement well up inside of him. He wanted to learn as much as he could about everything, and Dance was something that would even help out his current interests in prostitution and seduction. Quietly, a few words leaked out of his mouth, soft and polite. "Thank you for taking the time to help me." Once again, it stuck out by sounding quite genuine. Shows of emotion were easier to notice with the soon-to-be harlot, especially since they were so rare to see on his face. He certainly wasn't emotionless, he just chose to hold it down most of the time. Emotion scared him, as silly as that would sound to someone else. He didn't like the unpredictability of his own self when under the control of emotion.

When they reached the top of the stairs and the door of her room, he reached out and opened it himself (if it was unlocked), holding it for her and extending a hand to usher her in. For a very brief moment, his demeanor changed. There was this slight sway to his hips, this look to his eye, this brief feel of utter confidence about him. It was only a second, and then it vanished, replaced once again by the professional young man. "Have you taught people before? And for future reference, what sort of dresses do you tend to enjoy wearing?" He would follow her in at a safe distance, even more polite in subtle little ways now that he was within her bedroom. He kept a safe distance (as safe as he could with his soft hand in hers), and remained standing even if she sat down somewhere nearby. If she made like she was going to change out of her current outfit, he would quickly turn without even a glance in his direction needed, and remain turned until he was given the okay to turn back around. He felt a proper harlot should have proper manners, and had painstakingly researched such things. Hopefully the mannerisms would be accepted by someone exotic like Oriah.

Something she said earlier sprang back up in his mind, and his voice would suddenly slip out. "Humility? You shouldn't. Part of being good at something is being confident that you are good in it, in my opinion. I suppose confidence and pride are two different things though." He pondered for a moment, wondering if he should have humility. Was he cocky when he came to his skills? Arrogant, even? He wasn't sure. He'd have to ask someone.

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Double Trouble

Postby Oriah on January 3rd, 2014, 3:13 am

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Oriah looked back in surprise as they ascended the stairs, each careful not to take any missteps in the poorly lit space. "Of course," she responded to his words of gratitude, "I could hardly turn down such an enticing offer."

She grinned, then stopped as they arrived in front of her door. Oriah reached for the knob, which she had forgotten to lock in her haste to rush down the stairs and begin her performance, but Matthew beat her to the punch. Ah, a scholar, a prostitute in training, and a gentleman. What a strange mix, this one was.

The girl was just about to say as much, opting for a playful tone to help break the ice before their first lesson, when she glanced at Matthew on her way through the door and her words promptly died in her throat.

For the briefest of ticks, the man who extended a courteous arm as he held open the door was not the same man who had bluntly approached her in the stairwell and intrigued her with his objectivity. This new Matthew was, for a lack of a better word, confident, but in a wholly different sense of the word than a few chimes ago. There was a sway to his hips and look in his eyes that suggested...things.

Oriah found herself utterly bewildered as she crossed the threshold of her door. Then, just like that, he was back to his old self again, getting straight to business and wasting not a single drop of his time.

"Somewhat," she answered, letting go of his hand so she could turn to face him. "Mostly children, and sometimes adults when they're drunk enough. But nothing serious, I suppose. You shall be my first, true pupil."

At his next question, the Benshira's eyes positively gleamed with fanciful possibilities. "Ohh, that is a difficult question...and only because I never wear the local styles, since dresses are a little impractical for travel."

She thought for a moment, chewing her lip, then added, "I suppose, as far as color goes, it should match with what you choose to wear, no? For the style...not too scandalous, I hope, but a type of dress that will also allow me the freedom to dance without having to worry about tripping or something slipping..."

Oriah stopped, watching Matthew as his curious behavior captivated her once more. Goodness, what was he doing now? Before she could properly discern why he had just completely turned around, the young man spoke again, this time concerning the issue of humility.

She laughed, placing her hands on his broad shoulders to turn him gently around. "No need to worry about modesty, I'll be keeping the dress on. You'll need to see exactly what it is I do, after all. And you're right, sometimes they are different things. I simply choose to remind myself of my humility in the face of my god. It is Yahal, after all, who saved me from death so that I could be here now, teaching my fine, new pupil."

"Now," she announced, clapping her hands together, "let's start with the basics, then shall we?"

For the next bell or so, they worked on everything from posture to proper usage of certain muscles. Only after Matthew managed to grasp how to keep his knees unlocked, his spine straight, and his arms creating the proper shape at all times, did they move on to hip movements.

"You are going to bend your right knee while leaning on your left," Oriah explained, "and then roll your hip up and outwards. Your weight will transfer to your right leg, and then we repeat this process for your left side. In theory, your hips should create a figure eight, like this."

She demonstrated the movements for him, rolling her hips and shifting her weight from one leg to the next, creating a fluid, rather mesmerizing display.

"Alright, now you try."


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Double Trouble

Postby Matthew on January 3rd, 2014, 9:31 pm



"Is drinking required to dance well?" The comment about drunk adults was probably intended as a joke, but as Matthew's steady blue stare betrayed, he had completely missed that. Instead, he was actually feeling a very brief moment of worry welling up inside of his stomach. He was not at all the sort to drink, and especially not get drunk. Now that he thought back to a few of the parties had been forced to attend so far, he definitely remembered that quite a few of the guests had been under the influence of some sort of drink before heading out to the dance floor. How had he not made the mental connection until now? Would he be willing to drink some of the foul-tasting liquid in order to learn what he wanted to know about dance? He wasn't sure. He supposed that he would end up finding out before too long.

The gleam in her eye at the mention of a dress was noted, and a small mental mark made. She seemed to have a thing for shopping. She also seemed to have a thing for style. While most would consider the simple concept of matching outfits to be common knowledge, Matthew had been totally unaware of it by now. He nodded and nodded some more as she continued to give information, bright blue eyes never wavering as he soaked it up. He did turn when he felt it was about the right time, but she was quick to correct his behavior. "Ah, Yahal. I am familiar with him." A good idea to show her the mark on his hips? He realized it could be taken as a show of disrespect, which wasn't the intention behind it. He'd keep it covered for now, and bring it up when they were a bit more familar with each other.

The lesson finally started, and Matthew (perhaps predictably) turned into the model student. He was quiet unless he had a revelant question, and copied every single little move that she showed him. He wasn't a particularly quick learner, but he was stubborn and didn't seem to get frustrated, even if he had to attempt what she was showing him dozens of times. The young man found it wasn't that hard to do each of the concepts she taught, but the real challenge was combining them all into a single thing as she had so skillfully done earlier. Time flew by, and in the end Matthew felt himself shimmering with just the slightest layer of sweat. She seemed satisfied when he managed to pull them all off, though it was hit or miss on if he could to it on command.

His eyes turned to her hips as she showed him a specific move. He felt a fire burn in his stomach briefly at the alluring movements, but as he had learned to do when first pursuing his profession, he quickly dampened the fire. There was no room for his own primal desires in the business he had decided upon. His brow furrowed deeply as he continued to watch her example, and soon turned to his own hips as he was commanded to attempt it himself. He took a deep breath and slowly obeyed her instructions, shifting his weight and moving his hips. Her instructions helped him discover what he had been doing incorrectly before. He had been using stomach muscles to try and manipulate his hips, when instead it was just a controlled distribution of weight. It felt very flowing, not forced. Soon he was able to do it, though much slower and with a bit of a jerk when he switched his weight. His blue eyes turned to Oriah, presenting her with the odd sight of a young man dancing like a woman. "I am impressed with your ability. It takes all my focus to do this, and you add so much more to it."

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An Unexpected Pupil

Postby Oriah on January 5th, 2014, 12:48 am

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Though male dancers were common enough amongst her people, it was still a rare opportunity to be able to teach a man such sensual moves, and Oriah found the entire process surprisingly rewarding as Matthew proved to be a model student. He was attentive, determined, and most importantly of all, unafraid to make mistakes.

At one point, as she was demonstrating a particular move, there was a strange flare in the young man's eyes. Then it was gone again, replaced once more by astute concentration. Oriah wondered briefly just how much control a single person could have over his emotions, and exactly how much Matthew kept locked away behind his rationality. It was equally perturbing as it was intriguing, though she had little time to dwell on it in the midst of their lessons.

"It's only a matter of time and practice," she responded to his compliment, dipping her head in gratitude. "At the rate you're going, you'll be astounding--or shocking--people in no time."

She held up her arms now, elbows slightly bent. "Now, how about we practice some arm movements?"

The Benshira snaked her arms up and down in slow waves, then brought them up over head before letting them fall again, her hands swirling round and round as they descended. "These are just some basic gestures you can use to embellish the rest of your body movements. The way I move my hand is first, I practice with my fingers. I clamp them down against my palm flat, then pull them up as if I'm peeling back my skin."

Oriah smiled apologetically. "Unpleasant image, I know, but it helps with the general idea. I try to keep my fingers touching touching my palm as long as possible as I pull them up. The smoother this action is, the better it will look."

She demonstrated this a few times, encouraging Matthew to practice with her. "Now, if we were to take this to the next level, we would do the peeling motion, but while our arms travel. Imagine you are gliding the back of your hand around a round door knob as you peel."

Oriah twisted her wrist as she made the peeling motion, round and round as if gently brushing the contours of a circular object. Then, as she moved higher or lower, it looked as though her whole arm was flowing like a scarf in the breeze.

"If you get tired, feel free to rest. This stuff is far more brutal than it looks, keeping your arms up for chime after chime," she grinned, remember her first lessons learning proper arm movements. It was complete Hai, to say the least.


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Double Trouble

Postby Matthew on January 6th, 2014, 1:15 pm



He felt her own stare become curious for a moment, and he resisted the urge to glance up into her eyes so he could figure out what exactly she was curious about. It if was anything he needed to concern himself with, he assumed she would voice it. Anything else would merely distract him, and if he was distracted he would be unable to absorb as much information as possible. The practice continued on, Matthew slowly and carefully trying to shift his weight back and forth, feeling the sway and flow of balance from one side of his body to another. It was an odd sensation that did take some sort of muscle, though a muscle that he couldn't put a finger on. He almost felt ashamed, having studied medicine that specifically focused on anatomy. Anatomy and muscle positioning were two different things though, right? No, that was a lazy excuse. Matthew's brow furrowed once again, and he did what he could to memorize the feeling of the muscles that he was currently putting to use, filing the information away so he could research it a bit more later.

His arms instinctively rose along with hers, mirroring her motions. His elbows bent slightly, and when he noticed that he didn't have the same exact bend as her own, he spent a few seconds making minor little adjustments that made him a near perfect clone of her position. When she began to move her arms, he found it surprisingly easy to copy the movements. He had actually practiced graceful motions on his own, but only ones that he used when he was just walking around. All he had to do was apply those concepts to different motions, and he was on his way to learning. A small shake of his head was given to discard her apology, the young man not feeling it was needed. It certainly wasn't an unpleasant example to him, and it made perfect sense. His hands lifted and swirled over his head, and then swayed back down. His hand moved independantly from his arm, mimicking the motions she had shown. It was slightly difficult to move his hand independent of his arm, but he was managing to do it. He twisted at the wrist and stroked the imaginary doorknob, feeling a burn spring to life in his arm muscles. He stubbornly pushed on though, not quite ready to let the flow of information and learning come to an end.

Matthew tried to combine the movements of his arms and hands with the movement of his hips, striking out to experiment on his own. His results were laughable, with his hands and arms instantly freezing in place the minute he started to move his hips. A look of bewilderment briefly crossed his handsome face, and then his brow furrowed yet again, the look of focus intensifying. This time his hands and arms moved, but his hips stayed completely still. It was extremely hard to combine all the different movements into one single flowing dance.

He stared down at his hips and chest for a few moments more, and then glanced over to Oriah. Holding her gaze steadily, he spoke softly, words well-pronounced as always. "When it comes to your style of dancing, is there a specific move or dance I should know that will allow me to compliment you? If possible, I would like my role to help focus attention to you, or to parts of you. Whatever you please. In an ideal world, we can make you the center of attention." For being such a professional and polite sort of guy, he was certainly a bold one. Deep in his eyes though, there was this very distant playful spark. He was sly and mischievous somewhere deep inside, even if he managed to keep it almost completely covered.

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