Celephai nodded slowly, closing her eyes. It was a memory she'd managed to make peace with, even if she would give anything to have her place back...
"I was. Formerly. I'm nothing compared to what I was before."
Hardly even a shadow of what those entities were, of color and light impossible. Men would break down in tears at their beauty, enraptured by such grace, precision, and their endless flow of movements. Yes, she'd give quite a lot to have that back.
Cel waved a hand dismissively, a gesture that either meant: "I don't want to talk about it because you creatures wouldn't UNDERSTAND," or "It's nothing to worry about." In this case, it meant neither.
"Not nearly as good as I was. I'm a little beyond 'out of practice', if you catch my meaning."
It was likely he wouldn't, as she was intentionally vague on details.
Celephai rolled over on the mattress, uncertain of what to make of it. Sure, there were times when she felt like she could, with some practice, get back to her former state of excellence, but more often than not, it felt like an impossible battle.
"...Well, dancing tends to be something you're built for. I know I was, but you look like you're more suited to slaying dragons than pirouettes."
"Like I said, you have no inclination do learn, so there's no point in me trying to teach you. Unless your attitude can change, then I think you'll be forever incapable."
Grayell shrugged. He then breathed deep and shifted his feet a little, his hands slack. He looked at her, thought for a moment and then nodded.
I ah.... well geez. I don't dance. But I move. You know... shit how to explain that. Here.
Grayell turned to his side and then lifted his left leg slowly until his knee was level with his waist. His arms floated forward and his fingers rolled, pulling hands in as he leg now shifted, his hips turned and he stepped back. One arm swept low with fluid motion and traced a finger across the dirt, the other came to his hip.
The rear hand came over and then joined the other, him then leaning forward slowly, breath slowly pushing out, hands turning like a flower and then pressing palms outward. With a sudden flick, his rear leg lifted and quickly but gently brought him upright, his foot snapping in the air. He held it there, standing on his one leg and leaned his upper body back, til his torso were parallel with the floor. His hands closed as in prayer and he stood there, straight as a plank with his eyes closed for a moment... before he brought his foot down and stood once more.
He shrugged, rubbing the back of his head and looking sheepishly at the floor.
It's odd ya know? I mean... sped up it translates to killing someone but when done like this, with an internal focus... I enjoy it. That's the only dancing I know.
Last Edit: Sept 15, 2011 13:59:18 GMT -5 by Grayell
Celephai eyed his muscles carefully, watching each twitch and tug of tendon and ligament in his large frame. She'd seen that before, but it didn't occur to her when or where.
"I once saw a group of monks doing something similar. Admittedly, they did it standing on hot coals, but I suppose not everyone likes to torment themselves in such ways. Where did you learn such movements?"
Was Grayell a monk in a past life as well? He had quite the interesting background, after all...
Grayell was looking somewhat sheepish and simply shrugged.
I ah... spent some time far east. The people, the culture... everything there is quite different. It's a form of meditation actually, but I don't practice nearly as much as I should do.
"Not a leader? You marched into town and demanded that law be brought to this backwater wasteland, and then had several leaders elected from the lot. Following that, you posted up several laws -all of which I had read to me- and you created a Town Guard to enforce it. I would call those the actions of a leader."