reverie overflow.

[vecna]

i still haven't put something less stupid here

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[velluminous]

We will see.

[ after a strange beat, she straightens her posture and assumes—a leading stance? ]

[vecna]

[A leading stance? Well, if that’s her preference, this is not the time in which Henry will try to convince her otherwise.

So, he straightens, as well, except he seems to fall into the stance of following with much more nonchalance. Hand in hers; other hand slipping around her back.

Looks down at her expectantly, waiting for a new measure of music and... for her to get them started.]

[velluminous]

[ straightening even more when his hand moves around her back. rather than meet that expectant gaze, she glances aside at their joined hands, assessing. a lich... she is truly insane. ]

Follow my lead.

[ murmured unnecessarily; he clearly does know this. but the song trails out, seaming into a new track, and she begins to pull him around the room. it is so cramped that it leaves very little room to dance, but fortunately, she isn't leading them in anything high-energy or complicated. ]

[vecna]

[His touch is warm today; his fingers are long, slender, and pale, such a stark contrast against the hue of her own skin where they meet. Henry’s grip is neither overly tight nor loose with disinterest, but simply committed to letting her lead as they move about the room to a new song.

It’s hardly a ballroom, there’s barely much clearance to take a full turn around the room, but thankfully this is not a blistering waltz. Just a basic slow dance, in which he is able to follow without issue. Not a single stumble yet.

Tries to catch her look with his own, curious.]

Your impression so far?

/2

[velluminous]

[ fuuuuuck but she has a thing about hands ]

[velluminous]

[ she takes him to the curve of the telescope window, then turns them back towards the gramophone for another spin. ]

I am wondering how man who claims to have missed so much in life came to familiarity with ballroom dancing.

[vecna]

[Well. His hands are very nice.

Back towards the gramophone they go, its needle sometimes crackling gently in the wax.]

I wouldn't call this ballroom dancing.

[This is what teenagers manage in the gym of their school, dressed up for thematic dances that seem so very droll to him.]

Put me into a competition, and I'd fumble. But I was taught a little when I was younger.

[It's not false; he just never took to it, and it's not where he draws this skill from now. But Alice, she loved spinning about to slow songs, sweeping across the floor with an invisible partner. A silly, silly girl.]

Enough to impress you, I hope?

[velluminous]

Let us call it... satisfied.

[ she can't ascribe much better, being a woman weaned on soirees and parties and the many, many, many dances therein. she has real poise, even if their movements now are so simple; for a small woman, she still seems to command the room (though that's namely because Henry is allowing this), and where she oftentimes walks around with a hunch, she's straight-backed and prim now.

after a few more turns, she even dares to move to dip him. just to show off that she can. ]

[vecna]

Coming from you, I’ll take “satisfied”.

[And it’s clear from her own dancing that this is no effort for her. She has poise in the minute movements, the turns, where he does not — something garnered through what must be years of practice. He is led around the room as easily as though he were a shadow, she may as well command the music to her flow.

Henry even makes the mistake of opening his mouth to ply another remark, when it’s cut off—]

How long have you been da—

[—mid-dip, the height difference between them making it a very dynamic move, his blond hair sweeping back and his gaze nearly upside-down to view the observatory at large.

God, she is bold when she wants to be.]

I might need a drink after this.

[velluminous]

[ her dark, dark eyes are on him, making sure he doesn't look too displeased. she has her tail around his back to help support him, though her grip is sure and it doesn't appear to strain her much besides the sheer disparity in height meaning she has to hold him quite close.

that is still something of a discomfort ]

It is not that unpleasant.

[vecna]

[He doesn't look displeased at all, though perhaps vaguely caught off-guard, which might be something of a rarity for Henry who has done nothing but try to appear as put-together as humanly possible.

She is quite close, though, which means she should be able to catch his own two-toned gaze, both colors sharply bright.]

Who said anything about unpleasant?

[What an angle to be caught in; and yet he doesn't feel as though he will fall, held up sturdily by her own strength.]

Maybe I just need something to take the edge off the excitement.

[velluminous]

[ Mammon, they really are... captivating. it's barely human.

tugs him back upright, after an elongated beat of simply holding him like that. ]

Then, at your leisure. Song is nearly over.

[vecna]

[Tugged right back up, his perfectly coiffed hair is now looking a little windswept (dance swept?), though he pays it no mind. Arches a brow.]

In that case, let me lead until the song's over. One more turn about the room.

[velluminous]

[ it's not that nearly over, and she visibly hesitates. ]

I suppose I can allow this.

[ gently moves ... her hand, her pose ]

[vecna]

[Adjusts accordingly, as well— and when the tempo resets itself, it’s Henry’s turn to take the lead.]

I was going to ask — how long have you been dancing?

[Perhaps he lacks the same poise, but he guides them confidently around the small space.]

[velluminous]

My lifetime, more or less. Soirees and high tea, remember?

[ she is a little less poised when he's leading; she clearly is not as accustomed to following... or else it's Henry himself that's the cause ]

[vecna]

And did you learn because you enjoyed it, or because it was a necessity?

[Near the desk they go, taking a turn back towards the center of the room. He does not mind leading — though perhaps this is no surprise — but Henry does not seem overtly hasty one way or another.]

For all those soirées.

[velluminous]

I would have rather been playing outside, I suspect.

[vecna]

In that case, I hope I’m not continuing the trend of you being forced to dance with people you’d rather avoid.

[velluminous]

...no.

[ the most reluctant mutter as he continues to turn her about the room ]

[vecna]

…Good. [He admits, simply, with a small smile, and though he could wheedle even more, Henry chooses not to.

One more turn about the room, nearing the window with the telescope and its grand display of the city, the moon with its tears.

Here, the song swells to a crescendo, which must certainly mean it’s ending — and where she had been bold enough to dip him, he extends his hand that remains clasped against hers, guiding her into a neat little twirl.]

[velluminous]

[ oh, she's being twirled. if this were really what it seemed, her skirts would flare out around her legs, but the reality is, she's in her prison uniform, and so is he. the gesture itself still carries through, though; it makes her chest twinge with the strangest feelings of nostalgia and frustration. why is this one of the better dances she's ever had. ]

[vecna]

[They’re hardly dressed for the occasion, are they? Even within a memory, their prison garb reminds them of their situation, but at least the observatory, paired with its gramophone song, is distraction enough to enjoy the final touches of a dance.

The tune plays its last note, and he releases his grip, amused as the momentum of her twirl comes to a stop almost exactly timed with the end of the song.

Gestures at her, eyes approving.]

Perfect.

[velluminous]

[ ACTUALLY BLUSHES, and scoffs, waving off the approval as she skulks past him to fetch her wine. ]

It would suffice, yes.

[vecna]

[Turns on his heel to follow her, but not quite as hastily.]

It could have been worse. I could have stepped on your toes.

[Oh, did he embarrass her?]