Tristran Thorn

"Well, there isn't really much of a rest to it," she admits. "Unless you want our story and I'm somehow certain that you've all weaseled most of that out of someone already."

She pauses for a moment and laughs when she receives no contradictions.

"In short, all we have so far is wandering and witches and silver chains - and if any one of you mentions bondage -" her eyes roll at the guilty cough from somewhere to her left. "I will challenge you personally. I may not be any good at it but I have no reservations about cheating, unlike Prince Charming over there."

From:

"Well, that was a fine story, Lady," Meggot says, putting her hands together in light applause.

Several others follow.

"Aye, that it was," Alberic says with a knowing smile. A short moment later, Tobias stands and begins collecting plates, mugs and other utensils lying about the table.

"And now I say we dance," the captain continues, getting to his feet. "Come, lads, ladies, let us adjourn to the decks."

From:

"D-dancing?" Tristran says, nervously looking up. Again? He remembers the last time he went a-dancing.

It was an embarrassing sort of event. Something he should have hoped never to repeat again. He had turned far too red, and became far too...fumbly.

He sneaks a glance in Yvaine's direction.

From:

Yvaine meets his gaze and mouths a silent 'Again?' - rolling her eyes and pointedly ignoring the light flush that makes its way across her cheeks. Well, at least they can't be as awkward about it as they were last time.

One hopes.

From:

There's several voices speaking at once again, comments flying and quips quick to answer, silverware disappearing and a flurry of motion toward the galley doors:

"We don't have enough ladies!"

"You're enough of a lady, you great arse!"

"Yer steppin' on me ye great lummox - get moving! Outside!"

From:

Soon, the only ones left in the room are Tristran, Yvaine.

Slowly, he begins to stand, swallowing as he makes his way towards the doors, wishing something would strike him down. Not enough to kill him, but to perhaps...maim his leg to the point of ... not being able to dance! Right.

"Are you -- ready?" he asks her.

From:

"Are you?" she asks with a laugh, pausing at the doorway for a moment and glancing up at him with an almost hopeful sort of wondering.

"I'm supposing they won't believe us if we both claim to be very suddenly and very violently ill?"

From:

He shakes his head.

"I doubt they will," Tristran says, laughing too. "And they certainly wouldn't believe us if we told them we went to a midsummer's party at the end of the universe and had a dance already, either."

Yep. They're doomed.

From:

"Ah, but then they might actually think that we were ill - it might not be the kind I was going for, but that's alright."

She hooks her arm through his and straightens her shoulders with all the solemnness of a soldier marching off to battle. Or certain doom. Whichever.

"Shall we then?"

From:

"Yes." He nods, taking a deep breath. He pats her hand.

"Let us bravely face our doom, then."

From:

"I warn you now that Tobias will likely tease you about my virtue," she quips - rather cheerfully, all things considered - before tugging him easily through the door and out onto the deck amid the renewed sound of voices and the light strains of music coming from Oddness and a rather strange looking instrument with far too many strings.

From:

Tristran merely raises both eyebrows at that, letting her tug him along to the deck and the music.

Alberic and Meggot are already dancing, and a group of the crew are standing at the sidelines, clapping in time to the music.

It's overall a pleasant atmosphere; he's just not looking forward to the actual dancing part.

From:

It's a bit more comfortable, all things considered. She knows them - has had her feathers snatched, has been carted around, has be teased, poked and prodded by them for the past two weeks - so she's more at ease with these particular eyes than any other ones.

"Okay," she replies, coming to a stop and turning herself around to face him. "At least we've had practice, yes?"

From:

"If you want to call it that," Tristran mumbles, getting himself into position. This should not feel like torture. It really shouldn't.

As soon as his skin comes in contact with hers, there's that familiar not entirely unpleasant tingling, and then there's the closeness as he brings his arm around her waist again -- all of it adds up to the familiar feeling of stupid awkwardness.

From:

Alberic laughs, as he turns his head mid-step, to see them.

"There you are!" he booms cheerfully. "We were beginning to wonder whether you'd run off!"

He jerks his head towards the 'band', and shouts, "Another song, Oddness! Something -- waltzy!"

From:

"Rather wish we had run off," she mutters, low enough for only Tristran to hear, hand winding lightly behind his neck - closer this time and she's not precisely certain why.

A bit louder, head tilting slightly to glance over her shoulder at the Captain's wide grin.

"Don't try to get all fancy on us."

From:

The music changes accordingly, Oddness' wings fluttering for an impatient moment before a particular tune catches his fancy.

"Ah!" the Captain's smile widens. "There we go!"

From:

Tristran smirks.

Oh, yes. He completely concurs with that -- running off now might seem a little strange, though; they've officially lost any and all chances of running off now.

The song that Oddness and several of the crew play is a softer song, almost a lullaby-like tune that likely requires less stumbling, and more smooth, swaying movements.

This is not a good thing, as Tristran can hardly move without jerking, let alone sway.

"Well, this is all rather familiar." Including his burning face.

From:

"I'm not going to have to cover your eyes again, am I?" the star teases then sobers, smile soft. "This one is easy, I promise."

She narrows her eyes thoughtfully for a moment, waiting for the music to catch up with her properly.

"It's a bit like a mirror. You step forward," she instructs, waiting. "And I step backward."

From:

Tristran's face burns further as he tries desperately to avoid being greatly affected by her smile -- so different from her usual sarcastic and snarky demeanor.

Why, oh, why, does it have to affect him so much all of a sudden?

He nods nervously, eyes cast down to their feet. He takes the appropriate step forward with one foot, as instructed, swallowing.

From:

Her heart pounds strangely when he looks away, and catching a quick glance of Tobias' exceedingly smug face only serves to pain her face brighter to match.

This whole dancing business is utterly wretched.

"And now opposite. I step forward and you step backward," she mumbles self-consciously, stumbling a little sloppily as her bad leg takes the weight of her, grip tightening as she rights herself. "We will not worry so much about turning, I do not think."

From:

Another nod, eyes still focused on their feet, and Tristran moves backward one step. His feet are positioned more or less in the same spot as they were when he began.

"...Like that?" he asks quietly.

This really will not do. He has to have confidence. And yet he'd rather battle dragons and witches and lions than dance any longer, only because it serves to show the world just how moronic (as Yvaine would say) he really feels.

From:

It's the sudden, utterly uncertain quiet of his voice that snaps her eyes up - and it's the need to escape that makes her wince, then smile widely stepping back a bit and curtsying properly.

"I'm - I'll just -" she stutters then turns, voice raising to an overly cocky drawl, one hand braced on her hip. "You going to dance with me at all, old man?"

From:

The Captain's amused laugh rumbles across the deck like a wave of thunder.

"Far be it to say that I have turned down an invitation from a Lady," he booms in return, bowing respectfully to his red-headed partner and turning quickly to snatch the star's hand. "Especially from one so fine."

From: