A Peaceful Housewarming Party

[Lady Grace]

As requested Grace begins the song of before at Court, making even slower, nearer to as it should be sung;

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone
Jenny would dance with her ghosts"

She glances around to ensure she has caught everyone's full attention on those two notes. Don't linger too long on those Elder eyes.

"The ones she had lost and the ones she had found
And the ones who had loved her the most"

"The ones who'd been gone for so very long
She couldn't remember their names
They spun her around on the damp old stones
Spun away all her sorrow and pain"

"And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave"

Grace continues to keep the momentum and control listening to the sound of her voice in the silence as she continues and not caring now to keep the room's attention, she held it.

"They danced through the day
And into the night through the snow that swept through the hall
From winter to summer then winter again
'Til the walls did crumble and fall"

"And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
And she never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave
Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave"

The song has been getting louder and stronger  over the repeated words.

Fear, of being no longer useful
Anger at what has already been lost or anger at the loss to come, the loss of self, who we once imagined ourselves to be..

Anger at the world for changing but not quite changing enough. The lives lost to break the wheel yet the wheel turns on.
Nothing changes!

Grace's aura flares for those who can see and for a moment she glows, a burning anger? But its immediately gone. Stamped out.
Sudden quiet

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone
Jenny would dance with her ghosts
The ones she had lost and the ones she had found
And the ones......
Who had loved her the most"

Grace is still, this last verse has been so gentle and quiet until some realise they might have been leaning forward to hear so she steps backward and looks down to demostrate an ending.

[Christine Daye]

Christine is rapt with attention at the song, so focussed that she could be mistaken for an entranced Toreador. When it finishes she applauds with great enthusiasm.

"Beautiful..." she breathes.

[Gaius Olynder]

Gaius claps slowly, a small but genuine smile on his face.

“A court of the talented..” he murmurs.

[Miroslav]

Miroslav is a dominant person, but an equal dancer; hilariously, he is just as able to follow as he is to lead, and shifts between the two roles as benefits the overal piece. With Helen, that becomes a little tougher - because she's an atrocious dancer, he discovers - but Miroslav is nothing if not up for a challenge, and he moves to impose his own steps more forcefully, gliding around the room while manipulating Helen's figure into twists and dips.

Apparently, Miroslav has endless patience for dance. His eyelids flutter half-open at his partner's unsure tread, his lips parting in a wide, white smile.

He spins her as a wave of energy begins at the top of his skull like a cracked yoke that slides down, hot, over his body, into his collarbone, and over his throat. Engaging with a dance partner for this Kindred is like dipping into a pool of quicksilver. Each step is a joy. His body knows how to move. She’s not a dancer, but she's graceful naturally, elegant in the way she holds her arm out, in how the waist twists. Meanwhile every pace is controlled, the tautness in his thighs, his calves as he places each step after the other, his hips moving in an easy sashay. Its strength, its balance, its raw capability; it's intoxicating.*

((*heh heh heh))

He was very aware of his blood hot and overfull and Miroslav doesn’t entirely care in this moment as - his hand around her wrist is cold, his grasp unyielding - but it feels familiar, this closeness. Intimacy in dance was one of the rare times Miroslav behaved himself. There’s power in dance. The body knows. His hair’s floating around his face. He glides with her, the coarse thread of his silk robe brushing deliciously against the side of her ribcage.

When they were done, the dance ended for Miroslav with closed eyes and slightly flared nostrils, as his hand lowered, only loosing grasping Helen's. It all came with a comedown so heavy Miroslav had to swallow back darker demons from his mind.

"Princess."

Miroslav looked at Helen before parting - to return to where he could get the Prince more drunk.

"You have an actual voice," he also 'compliments' Grace, sweeping past her. "My condolences. You will now inveitably join Miss Daye in singing every time, at every party, for everyone... always."

[Valentina Audley]

Valentina laughs merrily at Jerome's comment. "How could you possibly be jealous when you are accompanying dashing Miss Herschel? Surely you are to be envied by all others? Unlike poor Mr Riley here, who dances with me for politeness' sake because he has impeccable manners and knows my love of dancing!"

As Grace's song sweeps over them, she stills and sighs a little, listening closely til it's end. "So lovely" she breathes, almost to herself.

[Lady Grace]

"And how intensely nice to meet you as well.
Miroslav
Thank you for your complimentary words"
Grace returns to her seat

[Erika Leroux]

Erika watches Miroslav and Helen dance - she recalls all too well another nightmarish dance in what could have been a lifetime ago. She realises her tension as she relaxes when Miroslav releases Helen. Torn between hatred and admiration in watching his movements. Artists recognise each other, and she can see when the mind, body and spirit are one. Though it has been a long time since she truly enjoyed a turn on the floor for the pain it physically gives her. Her dance card slots are not given away lightly. She tucks her jealousy away where it cannot be seen.

"Why, that was a delightful performance. It is a true joy to see one lose oneself." She smiles, both at Lady Grace and Miroslav, purposefully leaving the compliment for whoever should take it first.

[Lady Grace]

Thank you my Prince
Grace smiles in acknowledgement

[annabelle]

Sometimes memories creep in sneakily, they hide under your bed and they grow. Untouched from your scrutiny and your desperation to “fix” and “mend” and repair rifts of grief now and then. And then out of nowhere something triggers you and there is always something, here and there. In songs, expressions, words and gestures. Reminders everywhere.

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone. Jenny would dance with her ghosts" the ancilla’s words echoing.

Helen let herself be led by Miroslav, like she did years ago. When she was a scared stray, trying to survive the day. A foreigner with no home, or so she thought. And it all came back to her in this dance. The thirst to thrive, love and dance still there screaming like it did those years, prompting her to laugh and move in joy with no redemption. It suddenly looked like there was no progress at all. Still at square one.

Never wanted to leave, never wanted to leave

Helen heard the anger in Grace’s words. She heard it loud and clear like she was hearing the anger in her own soul every single night and that night especially. Loss and anger and fear of a history repeating itself, like it always did. How many times one can witness a fall of a world?

And through this dance she could see glimpses of the soul beneath the caricature of this elder and she knew she said to his deceased friend that Miroslav was a lost cause but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe there was something to be saved but this was her…always hopeful…always the one with crushed hopes, picking up the pieces and starting from scratch. What else to do. Hoping their souls could be saved, hoping there is a salvation in this curse. One day…one day….

By the end of the dance, Helen’s clothes felt heavy, Helen’s name felt like a drag. She didn’t say much, just dragged herself away from the rest and started arranging the glasses, aligning them to be in perfect order, giving her hands something to do and not having to talk to anyone. Giving a task she could actually control since she couldn’t control anything else that night or any night.

She gave Lady Grace some glimpses full of sympathy. Not a patronising sympathy, more of a silent understanding. But she didn’t approach further, too focused with her important task.

[Madam Zaragoza]

“More he believes.. what my Childe? I am most interest..”

Hermina trails off as Jerome and Annabelle waltz into the room. She stares transfixed for quite sometime as they glide around the room. As soon as they stop, she stands suddenly.

“Lenore, I am most interested in Elder Yorvic’s views but please forgive me for a moment or so.”

and proceeds to move towards the door that Dukes earlier left through.

As she passes Valentina, she nods and says,

“Well danced my dear. I see that Francis’ dance lessons are very worthwhile. I may take him up on his offer.”

She passes through the exit with the vain hope that she managed to suppress her beast long enough, for no one to have noticed.