((Last fill of the round for me! ... ugh, I'm sorry.))
Feferi has alwaves wanted to be a ballerina, ever since she came upon the ‘strange human concept’ that was so unlike the Alternian comballet. She was quite skilled at the dancing fights of comballet, and she was a princess, so naturally (anything a human could do she could do) she should be good at this, right? Of course right.
It’s true, too, that she’s a beautiful dancer. All graceful and elegant, a vision clad in a tight leotard-skirt combination of tyrian purple, she spins across the dance floor in the beautifully vicious moves of one of the comballet forms. She spins and spins and spins, wildly exuberantly gleeful, and Rose watches dispassionately all the while, that little smile on her face. She likes seeing her matesprit so happy, for with all the burdens of a princess, these little moments where she really truly smiles are getting fewer and further between.
Only that smile falters as her feet begin to blister in the pretty little dancing shoes. And when she tries to stop dancing, she can’t—Rose watches all the while, smiling her little smile, even as Feferi’s legs begin to swell, the friction catching the hem of her dress on fire. The spinning isn’t gleeful now. It’s horrified.
“Rose! What have you DON--E?” The e set apart, characteristic for her speech when she gets too agitated.
“You said you wanted to be a ballerina,” comes the reply from the grey-skinned girl with the shadowy aura that smiles so prettily up at her with dangerous white teeth. “Now you can dance forever.”
FILL: TEAM Eridan <3< Vriska
Feferi has alwaves wanted to be a ballerina, ever since she came upon the ‘strange human concept’ that was so unlike the Alternian comballet. She was quite skilled at the dancing fights of comballet, and she was a princess, so naturally (anything a human could do she could do) she should be good at this, right? Of course right.
It’s true, too, that she’s a beautiful dancer. All graceful and elegant, a vision clad in a tight leotard-skirt combination of tyrian purple, she spins across the dance floor in the beautifully vicious moves of one of the comballet forms. She spins and spins and spins, wildly exuberantly gleeful, and Rose watches dispassionately all the while, that little smile on her face. She likes seeing her matesprit so happy, for with all the burdens of a princess, these little moments where she really truly smiles are getting fewer and further between.
Only that smile falters as her feet begin to blister in the pretty little dancing shoes. And when she tries to stop dancing, she can’t—Rose watches all the while, smiling her little smile, even as Feferi’s legs begin to swell, the friction catching the hem of her dress on fire. The spinning isn’t gleeful now. It’s horrified.
“Rose! What have you DON--E?” The e set apart, characteristic for her speech when she gets too agitated.
“You said you wanted to be a ballerina,” comes the reply from the grey-skinned girl with the shadowy aura that smiles so prettily up at her with dangerous white teeth. “Now you can dance forever.”