Demimonde

Elijah

"There's a ballet," Elijah had told Jenn.

It didn't take much for her to be dawning a pants suit and covering up her tattoos and looking almost like a respectable, non-covered-in-pictures artist when hey got the to performing arts center. There was a ballet, Elijah had said. While there were a number of things weighing on his mind- the incident in the park, the girl in white who was insistent that she was going to die on her twenty first birthday to house a goddess, the fact that he could never quite stay in his mentor's good graces, there was a ballet.

There was a ballet and this was a chance to see Ian in his element.

"Should we bring flowers?" Jenn asked.

"I don't think we should?" Elijah said as he made his way through one of the rows, "plus we're already here, it's a little late now."

"True story."

And there they were. They were comfortable enough, familiar enough, matched enough that they could have been a couple had they intended. There were seats, there were people, and the effortless way Elijah moved around Jenn, the casual way both of them seemed to fluidly move between each other's spaces was familiar in ways most friends were not. Not quite familial, but certainly fond. Certainly nice enough. Elijah had on slacks and a button up shirt, coupled with a vest, because he always had a vest on. Always, except if he was running or doing something physical, Elijah always seemed to be just a tad dressed up and his hair was tousled but generally reasonable.

He and Jenn took their seats. They were on the aisle, but not terribly far from the stage.

Ian

Ian knew that Jenn and Elijah were likely to be in the audience that night. He'd been the one to provide them with their tickets. And while he didn't waste too much thought on their presence (he had to focus on warming up,) he did at one point take a quick glance at the audience from behind the backstage curtains. The house wasn't as full as it had been on Friday and Saturday, but there was still a reasonable crowd by the time Jenn and Elijah took their seats. These types of shows tended to attract an artsy crowd: people who were already well-versed in theater etiquette. By the time the show was ready to start, most of them had their cell phones silenced and put away, and were either reading the program or murmuring quietly to the person next to them.

If Elijah or Jenn happened to flip through their own programs (which were, for this show, fairly light,) they'd find names and a brief bio for each of the four dancers: Ian Lai, Emma Lakshmi, Benji Cunningham and Shannon Clark. A long-time veteran of the Colorado Ballet and former principal dancer, Shannon was the company's big draw. But the others weren't exactly amateurs.

The show was titled: Demimonde. Listed on the first page of the program was the following:

Demimonde - a definition:

• a group of people considered to be on the fringes of respectable society.
• a distinct circle or world that is often an isolated part of a larger world; a half-world

This is a story of the intersection between love and loneliness.

On the back of program was a quote from David Foster Wallace.

"Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." 

Elijah

This is a story of the intersection between love and loneliness.

There was something that made Elijah's stomach turn when eh read that. Something that made him glance sidelong at Jenn, feel like he was on an island, and he wondered, briefly, what it was that he was going to be seeing tonight. What it was that he was going to be privy to and what was going to happen on stage. What truth were they going to see, because there was truth in art. THere was always truth in art, because if there was nothing but artifice the audience couldn't connect. Couldn't relate. Couldn't be themselves, see themselves, connect in a way that was pure and the work would not inspire.

Not the way something that was inspired by truth could inspire.

He did not think himself the type to consume art, to be an avid consumer of art, and when he looked side long he could see the spark in Jenn's dark eyes, the lingering anticipatory smile that was on her face as she eagerly awaited the curtain's rise.

Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it.

Ian

The house lights dimmed, then went dark. All around the theater was silence. And then... the curtain came up.

The stage was dark, apart from spotlights shown on the four dancers, each of whom were placed separately on the stage, spaced and lit as though to indicate isolation. The costuming was simple: bare feet and basic dance clothes. (Neither of the women were on point.) Ian was in all black: capri-length pants and a fitted tank top. The impression was as much modern dance as it was ballet, and soon enough, as the music began and the dancers started to move, that impression grew clearer.

Intro: Hope Valley Hill - Helios

The music was soft and instrumental, and as the dancers moved the dark stage began slowly to grow lighter. Like the approach of dawn. The dance was slow and elegant, lonely and beautiful and touched with both hope and sadness. It wasn't until the end when two of the dancers, Ian and Shannon, began to wind their way toward each other. And just at the end, they reached out and touched hands only in passing.

The music went quiet, and the other two dancers left the stage.

Just a Habit - Low Roar

As the new song faded in, Ian and Shannon began to circle around each other. Dancing together, but separately. Not precisely in sync. Every now and then their paths merged and they came together, offering small moments of contact. Briefly, they held each other. And near the end: a lingering kiss. But the lighting was all winter and cool tones, and everything about the dance felt lonely and distant. A familiar couple who, try as they might, could not form the connections that ought to have been there. Apart, they were beautiful, but together... there was only frost.

And then, just at the end of the song, when the eerie notes of the music hung in the air, Ian drifted off toward the side of the stage, and his lights went black. In the silence that followed, Shannon realized that he was gone and grew panicked. She looked, and looked...

But found nothing.

Drive - Marissa Nadler

This piece was a solo performance for Shannon. The music was acoustic and melancholy and steeped in regret. The lighting was reminiscent of sunset on a wide open road. Shannon's performance was heavy with emotion, and the dance was a loose, flowing bit of choreography. Deceptively natural, but technically difficult.

This was mourning for something lost.

Juice and June - Kris Delmhorst

There was a long period of silence before the music began. Shannon was joined on stage by Benji. As the music came in, the atmosphere changed. The lighting grew softer. Warmer. Romantic, almost. The two dancers spotted each other from across the stage, and began to dance slowly, inexorably toward each other. Shannon's motions were slightly tipsy, and her eyes glittered as the two met and began to dance together. Their bodies intertwined, but as they passed stage left a third dancer (Ian) appeared and took Benji's place in a fluid motion. Shannon didn't seem to notice, and Benji faded quietly into the background, only to reappear moments later and retake his spot. This happened twice more, with the two men switching places as though playing the same character.

(Or perhaps that was merely how Shannon saw them. Perhaps Ian was never really there.)

At the end, it was Benji and Shannon alone, and he lifted her high into the air as they gave a slow, dizzy spin. On the way down, Shannon's lips met his, and they kissed for a long time.

Better Times - Beach House

As the music changed, they began to dance a lovely, bittersweet waltz. The lights shifted to night. Cool tones and glittering stars. There was chemistry between them, but also uncertainty on Shannon's part. Already she was starting to pull away. As the song progressed, she broke contact and spun off to dance alone, but he followed, catching her in a kiss. She lingered then, but only with reluctance. A sad weight seemed to hang heavy on her shoulders. Finally she broke away again.

No One's Gonna Love You - Band of Horses

But Benji wasn't going to let her drift away. The song changed to something sweet and uplifting, shifting focus to his perspective. And they danced again, the choreography changing to something sweeping and spinning, all dreamy romanticism. And for a while, Shannon found herself caught up in it, and she seemed happy. But then, suddenly, she pushed him away... and ran off the stage.

Benji stood there, still and silent, his expression heartbroken. When the lights went black, he left the stage.

Are We Arc? - Trust

There was another longer pause between songs. After a few beats, the lights came back up again. This time the tones and pattern were sleek and modern. Reminiscent of a night-club, with the stage bathed in deep blue and the moving shadows of other dancers behind the backdrop.

Shannon was on stage again, lost in her own world as she danced. But soon she was joined by another: Emma. Both wore glittery makeup on their skin. It shimmered in the light as they spun toward each other. The music started slow, but gradually it picked up as Emma spotted Shannon. And the two danced around each other coyly. Emma's dance was bold and heady, seductive and powerful. Gradually Shannon's dancing shifted to match her, and as the music gave a sudden turn - became quick and passionate - Emma grasped Shannon about the waist and the two went spinning off into a series of high-flying turns.

Ian

Beginning to Blue - Still Corners

The music changed, and Emma and Shannon danced together. The choreography was different than Shannon and Benji's dances, but no less romantic. The spark of chemistry between them had a headier, more sexual edge. They touched each other with more insistence, winding hands beneath the edge of their clothes as they danced.

But then the music faded out, and the stage went black, and Shannon found herself alone again with a single spotlight. She stood there, breathing in the silence and gazing off into the distance.

Yet Again - Grizzly Bear

In the beats of silence, a second spotlight appeared on stage where Ian was standing. The cool light made the glitter in his makeup shimmer. There were small details in his look that differed from the others. Hints of something otherworldly. It hadn't been visible earlier, but now it came out. He looked pale and unearthly and beautiful (unreachable.)

The spotlights came together, and the two danced, spinning around in a dizzy display. Drawn together by instinct and memory. (Even in death, love holds on.)

The song changed as they were still dancing.

Half Gate - Grizzly Bear

The lights came up as Emma and Benji appeared on stage, and all four of them danced as Shannon drifted from one to another. At first the change was slow, but as the song sped up, the choreography grew intense and chaotic, until finally she fell to the ground, breathing hard.

Ian drifted away, but Emma and Benji stayed with her.

You Want Everything - Snowmine

The lights grew warmer again as Emma and Benji lifted Shannon from the ground, and when the next song came in the tone shifted. They danced now - not as though in a dream - but with clarity and open eyes. Emma and Benji's interactions were stilted and uncertain. Initially wary of each other, the back-and-forth between them became more of an even flow, and Shannon's exhaustion lifted to something sad but tentatively hopeful.

Wild - Beach House

The lights dimmed as the song changed, and slowly the stage became a forested landscape beneath a starlit sky. Silver and blue with hints of green. And the song was a sultry drone as the trio's dance went from hopeful to passionate. And here for the first time the choreography allowed the dancers to linger on each other's bodies. They kissed and caressed each other, winding in around each other's forms until you could scarcely tell them apart. As the song progressed, the lights shifted so that the dancers were lit in silhouette. And there was something almost triumphant in Shannon then, in the way she allowed these two lovers to bring her back to earth and remind her that she was alive.

Fish - Wye Oak

There was a long break of silence afterwards. The lights dimmed, and Benji and Emma left the stage. Seconds passed, and stage-hands rolled out long blue and white silks across the floor. When the lights came up again, wind blew gently across the stage, sending waves of motion through the silk - like rippling water.

Shannon began to dance as Ian appeared. It was a sad piece. Poignant and melancholy as the music itself, but also touched with this quiet, desperate hope. Every time the dancers neared, they reached out to each other, but could never quite touch. Silk billowed around them as they disappeared and reappeared. Shannon desperately tried to make contact, but Ian drifted further away, and finally she seemed to accept the distance. Ian's dance was elegant and heartbreaking and incredibly nuanced.

In the end, the lights dimmed, and Ian faded into the darkness, leaving Shannon alone. Something about it felt final.

Gone gone gone - you were never alone.

They who made you, they made me too. I say they can make us again.

Epilogue: Nothing it Can - Helios

Shannon was alone on stage as the final song came up. It was another instrumental piece, simple and pretty. Quietly hopeful. Shannon danced alone, bathed in white light from above. Despite being alone, she didn't feel lonely. Her dance had a kind of subtle joy to it. Still tinged with sadness, but moving toward something new. Benji and Emma came out, and each danced alone beside her. Shannon kissed them, one at a time, and as she did so they left.

And then it was just her. And the lights and the music faded.

Elijah

It stuck with him.

Shannon. He couldn't help but look at her, he couldn't help but watch her as she found herself alone again and again. He couldn't help but feel connected to her as she moved in a whirlwind, as she intersected at those lovely, beautiful moments. How she had been alone, even when she was with Ian. They should have had chemistry. THey should have had a connection, and that was beautiful and enthralling, but the connection… they just… couldn't be together. There was nothing but frost.

But it was worse when she was alone, when Ian was gone and in the silence she could not find him.

he could see her regret, he could see her mourning, and for a moment Elijah turned his head briefly to see something glimmer in Jenn's gaze. Her eyes wide, her hands clasped in front of her, her features stuck in a moment of oh no, because it was like she knew something. She knew something that was not yet told.

Elijah turned back to watch what was going on. The piece was beautiful. Watching Shannon and Benji dance and watching Benji and Ian switch places as though they were the same person, as though there was some comparison, there was some spectre living there and Shannon could not let go, she could not let go, but there was warmth in Benji's movement. But… Shannon couldn't give it up. Shannon was uncertain. And though she was truly happy, she rejected him and something twisted in Elijah's stomach. He tensed like he had been hit.

Jenn took his hand subconsciously. They both watched in silence.

Emma came. Emma came and was raw nd passionate and powerful. Left Shannon gasping for air, breathing in silence, and yet again-

Shannon was alone.

Elijah's eyes fell on Ian, on his unearthly frame and how, now in this light, he could tell that he was gone. That he was a memory, that he hadn't been there except as a looming figure, a memory, a ghost of what was. A loss. The song changed and they danced. Peoplecame, and the dance changed, and the feeling changed, and then? Then she fell. This was the part where he expected for her to be alone, again. For Emma and Benji and Ian to leave and for shannon to be alone, again.

Damned if that didn't ache with familiarity. Jenn squeezed Elijah's hand. He looked her way and her mascara was running. Instinctively, he reached over to wipe her face. When Emma and Benji didn't leave, Jenn half hiccuped and smiled. When there was something sad there, but hopeful, yes hopeful because Jenn Laurent was a sucker for being hopeful and Elijah? Elijah was too young and too naive to be anything but. When hope turned to passion, when passion turned to a reminder that people were alive, that there was something brilliant and lovely and finally, finally there was triumph inShannon.

As though her triumph was their triumph.

The ending was a sad piece, poignant. Melancholy. Something where Shannon tried desperately to make contact and Jenn shook her head, tears in her eyes again because you can't do that, she thinks. She can't do that… and the silk billowed and the air moved something about the way Ian moved was… was heartbreaking. Left that feeling in Elijah's stomach of finality and the lights dimmed.

But she was alone again.

But once it was done, her being alone felt just like being alone, not like loneliness. Not like she was less for having been alone.

Elijah sat dumbfounded, slack jawed and awed and Jenn? Jenn just had a smile on her face and quietly sobbed as though this was her triumph, too. She could never handle heartache. She couldn't handle suffering.

Ian

It was a good performance. Not perfect (nothing ever was.) Of the four dancers, Benji was the youngest and least experienced, and it showed a couple of times when his form faltered, but these were small mistakes and no one but the other dancers really paid them any mind. The kid made up for his inexperience with boundless energy and enthusiasm. Shannon was... absolutely remarkable. Emma was a force of nature. And Ian? None of the other dancers could quite match his sense of balance. There were things he could do with his body that, at times, seemed to defy the laws of gravity. That probably wasn't a surprise to anyone who knew him though. Perhaps more unexpected was the poignant and nuanced performance he'd given. Not many people thought of Ian as having an artist's temperament, but then, not many of those people had ever seen him dance.

They were all matched in this arena, the four dancers. It was part of what had made the show so powerful - a combination of skilled technique and raw emotion.

The reviews were already rating it highly. A few quibbles here and there, but over all... critics seemed to like the performance. It spoke well of the troupe's potential future and longevity.

When the curtain went down, the dancers were exhausted (Shannon especially, who had not stopped dancing once in the entire show.) But they returned to the stage and linked hands, and when the curtain rose again they bowed in unison. The applause that greeted them was a deafening echo as the audience, one by one, got to their feet. They continued to clap for many seconds after the final drop of the curtain.

Only then did Ian finally begin the long process of winding down. His muscles felt raw and overheated, but despite his exhaustion he was wired and alert, riding high on the waves of performance-adrenaline. Benji, exuberant in his enthusiasm, leaped on Ian back stage and planted a kiss on the side of his cheek, to which Ian responded with an annoyed sound.

"Get the fuck off me." Ian shoved Benji away, but there wasn't much actual aggression in either his voice or his behavior, and when he looked at the kid's beaming face, he couldn't help but laugh. Emma took the moment to swoop in and plant another kiss on the opposite cheek.

"You were lovely tonight."

Ian smiled. "So were you." Then all three of them grouped around Shannon for a round of congratulations.

It wasn't until about fifteen minutes later, after Ian had managed a quick shower and put on some regular clothes, when he'd be able to join Elijah and Jenn backstage in the green room. But the theater employees seemed to know who they were, so they didn't question the two as they made their way back, and if asked would offer directions. The room itself was furnished with a handful of old, plush sofas, and a long table bearing various drinks and food items. When Ian got there, he grabbed a cup of water from the table and drank deeply.

"I see you guys made it."

Elijah

Of the people who could play it cool in a green room, jenn was not one of those people. She was fidgety. She was excited and excitable and her emotions were buzzing. It had taken a good three minutes for her to stop crying, and there were the rem ants of what would have probably been very nice makeup lingering at her eyes. Something that was dark and something that was most assuredly not waterproof. She couldn't afford the good stuff, but she did make her way across a palate like an artist, made her dark eyes seem larger and brighter than they already were, because Jenn was always a wide-eyed sort of creature. Something awe touched, because the world was beautiful.

It was something she and Elijah had in common, seeing the world and seeing beauty. Something they had in common because they were both young, both vibrant creatures. Because they'd had similar experiences, though dealt with them in vastly different ways.

"You're a jerk, Ian Lai," Jenn said. she didn't mean it, but she wiped her eyes quickly.

"Jenn put on makeup today," Elijah said.

"And nobody warned me I was going to be crying so much," she said, she laughed, hardly meaning that Ian was a jerk in the slightest. She would no sooner say that then she would call Elijah self-centered. (She had, of course, called him self-centered before, in an argument. He was self-centered, but she loved him anyway, because why wouldn't she?)

Elijah grinned, they both looked nice enough, presentable enough. Elijah cleans up nicely, and there is something a little more formal about him, probably because they had gone to a ballet. Probably because they were somewhere nice and horror of horrors he actually did know how to behave himself in polite society. Who would have guessed?

"This was sincerely amazing," he said.

Ian

Ian's hair was still damp from the shower, and his skin smelled clean and lightly fragrant. He had on jeans and t-shirt. Nothing as nice as what Jenn and Elijah had donned, but then, none of Ian's clothes ever really gave the impression of dressing down. They were alone in the green room. The other dancers were either mingling with the audience or changing.

Jenn looked as though she'd been crying, and when she called Ian a jerk he gave her a look that balanced on the edge of apologetic and amused. "Sorry I ruined your makeup."

Elijah called the experience sincerely amazing, and Ian smiled a little (almost hesitantly.) He poured another drink of water and walked over to the newer of the three sofas. As he sat down, he tipped his head back and closed his eyes, exhaling a long, quiet breath.

"If you're hungry, you can have some of the food. We never eat it all."

There was an assortment of snacks and desserts on the table. Some were healthy, others were decidedly not. There was also a few bottles of wine in addition to the water pitchers.

Elijah

There was permission given, and Elijah, not one to give up on food, nabbed a cupcake and a hand full of carrots and plopped himself down on the couch. Jenn, for her part, seemed about as interested in the cupcake as she was in German political movements, but she was content to take one of the carrots from Elijah and happily munch away like a pint sized adorable rabbit. They were college students, these two. I didn't matter if one of them came from distinctly better socioeconomic standing in the past, college was the great equalizer. Everyone is broke.

Besides, what were the odds that dancers ate cupcakes? Elijah wasn't sure, but something tasted home made, so he was more than content to lick some of the icing off the top and revel in the texture and taste the finest hints of lemon and think of quintessence and light.

"Who caters for you?" Jenn asked. She swallowed her carrot and was stealing another one from Elijah at the time, holding it like one would hold a cigarette, strangely enough.

"How are you not freaking exhausted, I never knew ballet was so intense." Elijah asked.

Ian

"I think Steph, the stage manager, brought most of that. She likes to bake."

Ian opened his eyes when Elijah asked why he wasn't exhausted. He downed a slow drink of water before setting the plastic cup down on a side table. "Do I not look exhausted to you?" He gave Elijah a light nudge with his knee to indicate that he should scoot down a bit, then shifted to lie down on his back with his head on the arm rest. He left his legs bent to account for space.

"Shannon has the worst of it. She never gets a break."

Elijah

He is nudged, and ends up scooting into Jenn's space which, in turn, meant that Jenn, not willing to give up space, invaded the space that Elijah was inhabiting and put her head on his shoulder. And ate another carrot, because carrots were truly, truly delicious things. And she wanted to eat them before the other dancers got back here and decided to descend on the healthy things like a mass of starved but ever-so-breathtaking muses.

"Not to the point of I need a cookie and a nap exhausted, just I feel like I just showed everyone part of my soul exhausted," he told Ian.

"So, regular artist exhausted?" Jenn asked.

"Exactly." Elijah replied, "and holy shit that woman is a force of nature… the fact that you guys are going to be doing this show again says something for your stamina because that seemed so… o…"

"Gut-wrenching," Jenn finished for him.

And it was true. The show was gut wrenching. The show explored themes of loss and loneliness and love and all the places that these things intersect.

Ian

"Maybe I'm just good at hiding it." Ian smiled a little, the expression purposefully enigmatic. He rolled his lip between his teeth and stretched out his arms, nudging Elijah in the side with his knee. This time the contact was less a gesture of communication and more an act of tired playfulness.

Jenn called the show gut-wrenching.

"Yeah," Ian replied quietly. "It's a heavy piece."

"Which dance was your favorite?" A new voice broke into the conversation as Benji walked in, fresh from the shower and carrying a gym bag over one shoulder. He dropped the bag against the wall and picked up a cupcake, watching Ian and the others curiously.

"This is Benji," Ian gestured toward the other dancer. "Benji, meet Elijah and Jenn."

Elijah

"Gah, I'm beset by people touching me," Elijah faux- complained, leaning a little against Ian's legs as though he were trying to assert his space related .. uh… spiciness. It wasn't quite working, though, because him leaning just gave Jenn an excuse to lean more.

"Aw, shut your face, you love people in your space," Jenn faux-chided.

"Way to make a point there, Dr. Seuss," Elijah replied with a grin.

There was someone new in the room, and Elijah smiled and Jenn lit up at the prospect of meeting the rest of the cast, as though being in the green room was something of a treat because they were going to get to meet the people who literally took her through an emotional roller coaster, despite the fact that she knew twenty-five percent of the cast already.

"There's this one, early on," Jenn starts, "look at how the twilights fading all the night birds serenading- that one? Where you and Ian are trading off places and there's this great moment of foreshadowing that he's not actually there, and it was so seamless and you have this beautiful connection with Shannon."

"Dude," Elijah said, "you are a freaking beast with those lifts. Just sayin'."

Ian

Benji managed to consume his cupcake in about three bites, and he smiled when Jenn mentioned the Kris Delmhorst piece. There was a bit of chocolate frosting on the edge of his mouth, but he didn't seem to realize that it was there. When Elijah complimented his lifts, the smile broadened. Benji's skin was still flushed from the shower, so it was hard to tell if he was blushing, but there might have been a hint of extra color.

"Thanks, man." He licked frosting off the side of his thumb and grabbed a drink of water. "That's my favorite piece too."

"Is it?" Ian glanced up at him. His mouth twitched when he noticed the smear of chocolate on the edge of Benji's lips. "Hey, come here a second."

Benji dutifully wandered over and crouched down next to the sofa, watching Ian with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. Ian reached out and wiped the chocolate frosting off of Benji's lips, then put his thumb in his mouth and sucked it clean.

"There. You had ganache on your face."

Benji blinked and stared at Ian's mouth. His lips parted softly, and he reached up to touch the place that Ian's thumb had just been. "Oh, thanks."

Elijah

[Benji, are you flustered? Per+aware]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 8) ( success x 3 )

Elijah

[Jenn: do I notice?]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )

Elijah

Elijah couldn't help himself. He watched, he watched with the hints of a smile on his face, something that lingered, something that played on his imagination and that imagination was quite an active one at that. And that imagination did go places, delightful, wonderful, acrobatic places because these men were dancers and there were a number of delightful, glorious things that they could quite conceivably be capable of doing and Elijah wasn't one to hide the fact that the casual gesture of invading space and Benji's trepidation and the flush on his cheeks (was that a flush on his cheeks?) wasn't incredibly appealing.

"Ganache happens," he assured the young man, who may or may not have actually been older than Elijah. He grinned, something playful.

Jenn, on the other hand, tried to use her companion to leverage herself up off the sofa. This was a problem with being short, her feet didn't quite touch the ground and her shoes were tall and she tried, oh how she tried to wriggle herself off the couch. It wasn't doing her any good though. Jenn huffed, having realized she was out of carrots. She looked left, then right, and then tried ever-so-covertly to slide off the couch in the most dignified fashion possible.

Which was, well, not necessarily working, and only served to get her stuck further in the couch.

"Do you need help?" Elijah asked.

"No." Jenn said immediately. Cheeks bright and she finally, finally managed to make a little headway to getting off the couch… only to go right back down. Magnetic thing, a greenroom couch, "Elijah, you never said what your favorite piece was."Yes, redirect. Keep people from staring at your couch misfortune.

"Oh, yeah," he said, rubbed the back of his head and soon tried covertly to push Jenn back up off the couch without her noticing. She noticed, of course, giving him a quick look that was at once baleful and grateful because she was still having zero luck on the couch front.

"I'm tied between the piece by Wye Oak and the one right before it? There was a note of hope throughout the last piece, even if that hope was desperate, it was like seeing something that couldn't quite be and moving forward to finally accept that things actually change. But the piece before it had a note where you're basically uniting people and that hopefulness turned to passion and the lighting cues were really… Props to your tech staff, guys, that would have been a completely different piece if it was lit differently."

Ian

Benji laughed when he noticed Jenn having difficulty with the couch. The sound of it broke the bubble of subtle tension that lingered between him and Ian. He stood to his full height (which was actually about an inch taller than both Ian and Elijah) and walked over to offer Jenn a hand. "Here, I got you."

To Elijah he said, "Did Ian tell you he helped choreograph those pieces?"

"He picked the music too." Emma and Shannon appeared together at the door, with the latter carrying a bouquet of white roses. It was Shannon who'd spoken. Emma shot Elijah and Jenn a brief smile before occupying herself at the table. She looked a little reserved. Tired, maybe.

For his part, Ian didn't offer much comment to Elijah's preferences other than to say, "The lighting is really good on that piece."

Elijah

"I am never listening to Elijah again as to what I should wear to the freaking ballet," she said with a laugh, very clearly not meaning what she had said. Her hands are small. Most of her was small, come to think of it. She was a petite creature.

"Hey," Elijah said, and he could falsify exasperation fairly well, but he couldn't keep the grin off of his face, "you were the one who purchased those insane heels. I just said they look amazing on you."

"Because they do," she said as she hoisted herself up. She was a graceful sort.

She meandered off to go acquire some carrots and some celery and radishes because there were radishes and she had the a rabbit's sensibilities when it came to eating things. Elijah, for his part, did sit up and he looked from Benji to Ian and… and he looked surprised. He looked impressed, intrigued, he looked amazed because Ian was more than a dancer, he was a force of creation, and that? What they had just seen? This was an act of creation, an act of creating lasting beauty.

There was truth in that.

"Holy shit, really?" surprised, pleased, intrigued, and there were all of these things. "It was-I mean… I don't have words."

Ian

Ian's attention hovered for a moment on Emma's profile. His eyebrows drew together slightly as he watched her. When Elijah drew his attention back, he glanced over and offered a slightly skeptical smile.  "You sound so surprised."

A handsome, middle-aged man came through the door and walked up to give Shannon a kiss on the cheek. She smiled and turned into his embrace, setting her flowers on the table. Benji greeted him with a wave and a smile from across the room. "Hey Matt."

"Hey Benji." The warmth and the grin was returned. When Matt glanced at Ian, his expression fell into something cooler - more carefully schooled. "Ian."

Ian glanced over and gave a little nod (perfunctory, distant.) He shifted on the sofa, swinging around to sit properly with his feet on the ground. To Elijah, he said, quietly, "I didn't know you were so into ballet."

Elijah

"I'm into art," he says to Ian, though his voice was quiet. Tone matching tone, "people who make the act of creating something seem... y'know... like this is what they're supposed to be doing? That's fucking powerful, that kind of purpose. I admire that."

There are things that went unsaid, whether he considered himself capable of creating something lasting, whether that had some metaphysical component. Whether the ability to create something lasting and moving and transcendent was on par with the ability to move the world, to help someone transcend their own barriers. There was a lot to that, the ability to create, the ability to have that sort of devotion to a craft that it becomes some integral part of who you are.

For someone so aimless, it was fascinating. It was beyond fascinating.

"Jenn does that when she paintsor when she's pouring over some chest piece that someone trusted her enough to say surprise me on. I'm actually kind of jealous."

Ian

Elijah talked about the act of artistic creation in much the same way that some of the Awakened spoke about their craft. Ian grew quiet and watched him. Once, for a moment, he gave this soft smile and glanced down at the floor. There was an echo of melancholy to it. Or nostalgia, maybe.

"I'm not sure any of us really have a purpose beyond what we make for ourselves."

Back up at the table, Benji had joined Shannon and Matt in discussing a bit of back-stage gossip about the director of the Colorado Ballet (who may or may not have been having an affair with a junior dancer.) Emma sat down on the corner sofa and pulled out her phone. Ian's focus found her again, watching her with this close but silent observance.

"I think I might need to call it an early night. I'm pretty tired." Ian met Elijah's eyes again. "I'm glad you came though."

Elijah

[Per+aware, melancholy, you say?]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 6 )

Ian

[Pff, what? I don't know what you're talking about.]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 4 ) Re-rolls: 1

Ian

It was difficult for Ian to talk about his craft in such personal terms. Certainly he took it seriously, and there was no doubting the genuine emotions that had gone into that performance. But doing a thing and talking about it were two different matters. Elijah would have a sense that this was not a part of his life that Ian typically shared with people outside of the dance world.

There was more to it though. The nuances of that expression. There was both melancholy and nostalgia there, and something a little bit like guilt. But it was impossible to know why or where that came from.

Elijah

[Jenn said there is this stuff called tact, and that I should use it. Manip+sub]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 5, 5, 6, 6, 8) ( success x 3 )

Elijah

"Thanks for inviting us, I'm glad I got to come," he said.

Sincere. Strange, because for all his talents he preferred to be sincere. He preferred to be open because... because it was exhausting keeping track of what he's told who and what hes living and what really is real and what is just a convenient fabrication. What is true, though, is clear enough. He's glad he was invited. He's glad he got to come. He was impressed by the performance, and when he smiled it reached his eyes.

That's what makes the little lies believable. That makes it easy to believe that there are things he doesn't notice, like the guilt that lingers inn the edges and the valleys of Ian's expression. Elijah had no idea where they came from, but he didn't press. Didn't venture forward, not in public and if there is one thing he had figured out it was that some people? You can't push.

"Yeah, it is getting pretty late, y'know, considering you guys just danced for, like, ever straight," Elijah tried to get off the couch and, despite having nearly a foot in height on Jenn, found himself having similar issues. Which, in turn, made the little woman laugh and offer him a hand.

"Ha ha, I'm not the only one being eaten by a sofa." she said, "thank you so much for inviting us, by the way? I had fun."

Ian

Ian was tired, but that wasn't the reason he wanted to slip away. And Elijah, as observant as he was, would have noticed the way Ian kept looking at Emma. It was the same way that Ian had looked at Elijah that day at the Chantry. Emma, for her part, didn't seem to notice their discussion, or Ian's concerned interest.

Elijah was tactful, for once, and Ian offered him a rueful grin. To Jenn he said, "Any time," and his smile lingered when he looked at her, recalling memories of their first encounter (of how it had ended.) When he stood up, he managed to make it look markedly easier than the other two had done.

"Emma." He said her name quietly. "Still need a ride?"

Emma looked up and nodded. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

"Have a good evening." Ian addressed his goodbye to the room at large, but offered a lingering look to Elijah and Jenn. As he left the room, he let his hand brush Emma's shoulder gently.