goggles. /// yi-dashi.
Dance was notunknown to Yi, which was perhaps why he’d been drawn to the performance in the first place.Plenty of his people had been dancers, and in Rakan he found some form of nostalgia. When the people of Wuju could not apply their sword-crafts to battle or contests, their grace became art. To the beat of drums, a curated form of swordplay hadcome alive in performance. Back then, Yihad ignored any mentors of the arts, preferring swords for their edges ratherthan aesthetics. There were many more important things to be done, he told them all. Whywould he need to remember every single Wuju play?
That thinkinghad got him to the present, standing before the other with flurries of compliments. Butthe nostalgia grew bitter the longer he pondered it. How much had he forgotten?
“… What isnew?” He offered, after shaking off his simmering malaise. The other’s bravado was much more captivating than thoughts of the past, “Acknowledgement of workwell done? Surely, I would hope you are given more credit for the performance youprovide? You speak as if you are aware of your own skill, and I suppose they would not host you here if not for the skill of it. Thepractice is apparent, and I am hope you are not the only one telling yourself this.”
Stroking athis beard, the Bladesman’s lenses clunked back into theircasings suddenly. Behind them, the man found himself wincing as hebecame aware of a missed introduction. That, and the name ‘Goggles,’ which seemed to slap him for his missed formality. Not very palatable to his ears certainly, and his first instinct was to scold the Vastayan for it. But be polite, Yi. Thatwas the least he could offer. Let it go once, and make sure he has no reason to call you it again.
He steadiedhis expression, and his goggles along with it, as he continued with his measured tone, “Ah, I think I have gotten ahead of myself. Please forgive me Rakan, I have not thought to announce myself. It is not Goggles, as yousay. I am known as Master Yi. I travel widely, and I was not expecting to spendmy time here this day. So, if you have things you must attend to, please do notlet this man keep you. If you would tell me more of your dances however, I would surely be interested in hearing it.”
At least that gave him an exit, if he’d truly managed to offend.
such a new song to settle upon his ears, appealing to some base desire that yearns for praise & attention ( oh, how it dwells in his heart ! ), rekindling the passionate fire of his heart that continuously reminds him of this skill's benefits : the endless praise from others, their attention, & their inevitable admiration held for none but rakan, rakan, rakan. hah, to stroke massive ego could be considered folly to some, albeit rakan feels differently. this praise is divine, it is a pleasure he indulges himself in, caring not for the scorn directed towards him through malevolent gazes ——— envy, repulsive sentiment he understands all too well ——— but beauty's irresistible grace allows him to persevere, to continue his performance without worry of what others thought.
❛ you'd be surprised, goggles ! ❜ again with the nickname, escaping past lips naturally, at a smooth ease the world could not compete with. coolness itself, is rakan in that moment. 'till he recognizes own blunder / stranger had been naught but kind to him ( but within lies an expectation of kindness from all !! ) hah, only a fool would believe that. it is only luck that he's not being chased down by yet another angry guard with hopes of capturing for his feathers, or perhaps his head. ❛ sorry, sorry, that was my bad. master yi, right ? ❜ took a moment, certainly, but he's quick to correct himself, purely out of courtesy ( that, & he'd like to try to remember this guy's name. ) ❛ i just don't get that sort of praise often, really. lot of clapping, cheering, & staring, but who can blame 'em ? either way, it feels nice to have someone know i work pretty damn hard on each dance ! ❜
oh, but don't let him speak of those countless nights where spirit of song & dance resonate within him, indulging himself in that selfish pleasure of dance, song !! the true passion that feels like his calling, that feels right down to every sweet melody. it matters not if it's from dusk to dawn, it is the happiness conjured from each second that mattered !
❛ aaaaaaaanyway, ❜ after brief pause, voice fills the air again, waiting's too boring & leaving honored guest without answer to query is way too rude. abandoning the routinely, rather lonesome evening after a festival sounds pleasing. a taste of something new surely was needed, even if it wasn't a sweet, chocolatey delicacy. ❛ if you wanna hear all about my dancing, then i could tell you all about 'em ! maybe even show you some, too. consider yourself my guest of honor !! err, though i don't exactly have a place. i just wander around. ❜
goggles. /// yi-dashi.
Starter for @feyquil
Yi lurked at subtle distance from Rakan, only half aware that he was staring. Normally he didn’t care for incidental places passed along his way, or the celebrations they hosted. Normally, however, festivities weren’t accented by the flurry of dance, and the richness of Vastayan magic. His goggles had been caught, and there they remained to watch. Now, when all was done, he just had to think of something to say that would justify his prolonged gaze.
“… You certainly have the spirit of performance in you.” Yi commented eventually, when he found the right moment to approach. His lenses rolled with micro-adjustments, invisible candles seeming to flutter behind the fixtures as he grasped for his beard, “In a literal sense, perhaps? I could not say much to that, though this much I can say: You must dedicate a lot of time to your craft, yes? If not, then you are a raw talent the likes of which I have yet to see. I do not suspect that is so, however. I stand intrigued and impressed by any sort of dedication to a skill.”
The Bladesman offered a swift dip of his back with the last thought, hoping no awkward silences would find him when he rose again.
dance is an art that must not be underestimated. some may view it with scorn, they may perceive each move futile, fruitless, & as naught but hedonistic movements whose only purpose is to serve one's own sense of pleasure & enjoyment. but, oh, it's more than that !! far, far more than just that —— these festivals granted dance its opportunity to shine in the spotlight. under that beauteous, setting sun, there is rakan at the center of these festivals, allowed a moment for his song & dance to captivate an audience, for their eyes to remain on him ( oh, how the rekindled fire in their eyes sated him ), for their cheers & jubilant grins to be for him, caused all by him. dance's intricacies are understood by he, lhotlan vastaya whose dance continues eliciting the elated claps, he is their beacon, the epitome of being carefree, to simply enjoy each moment. his dance is as invigorating as it is inspiring. a breath of life bestowed onto them by this art he's meticulously perfected to his standards.
as his dance comes to a close, a singular limb is brought up, graceful & unbothered in its movement as it dramatically remains above his head. held in place for a few moments, as if to prolong their praise, only to then transition into a theatrical final bow. the crowd that once gazed & cheered for him begin dispersing, their smiles a reminder to rakan : god damn is he good at what he does. once he's no longer the center of attention, it's his cue to leave, to find the human's delicate sweet, the chocolate he's long since craved. such is the plan, until he's approached by a man from the audience earlier. huh, he looks pretty cool.
❛ wow, that's a new one. ❜ chuckle emits from his throat, pearly whites visible with the oncoming grin. praise isn't uncommon, it's welcomed at all times, but to this degree ? he's rather flattered, perhaps not only because he was mentioned to have the spirit of performance, but the simple acknowledgement of his hard work ... he kinda likes it ! ❛ thanks ! what can i say ? i put a lot of practice into my dance, gotta make sure it's beautiful & perfect, just like me. i can't settle for less. ❜ it's his source of pride, one of many sides to his vanity. ❛ name's rakan by the way, goggles ! but, you knew that already. at least, i think you did. ❜