sailing softly through the sun
Feb. 19th, 2019 01:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Who: Mantis and all
[Mantis collapses against a wall, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.]
Broadcast: No
Action: Marasiva
When: Today
Pirouette, two three. Eight en point steps...
[Of all the things one would say about his body, Mantis never expectws to hear something remotely close to "graceful". It didn't stop him, but he knew that he lacked the burd-like physique ballet called for. There wasn't much else to do. Once the night cycles were over and he stumbled from his dream or someone else's, reality was unbearably disappointing.
His exhausted mind was completely done with Marasiva. He needed off. Stimulation. More than wandering halls and locked doors in every corridor. Humming allowedthe to use his voice a little, ragged as it was. Sometimes it was the Hymn, sometimes an aria he'd long forgotten the words to, sometimes songs from the radio over the years. Today was a day for ballet. Some might recognize the tunes of the many little songs from The Nutcracker. He half-assedly moved his feet with each songs. Hopping with Tea. Slowly turning with the Arabian dance. Or, like now, carefully trying to come close to the pirouettes of the Sugarplum Fairy.
Stare if you want, ask him what he's singing at all, the man needs something to do besides sleep.in thay tent at the edge of the desert...]
Pirouette, two- Two. [It's there. What exactly he has no idea, but he feels it. Mindless, but there. Like a comatose patient. Bodering on still. Words. He hears the words. Clear as day.] "To see an almost certain horrible death-"Pirouette, two three. Eight en point steps...
[Of all the things one would say about his body, Mantis never expectws to hear something remotely close to "graceful". It didn't stop him, but he knew that he lacked the burd-like physique ballet called for. There wasn't much else to do. Once the night cycles were over and he stumbled from his dream or someone else's, reality was unbearably disappointing.
His exhausted mind was completely done with Marasiva. He needed off. Stimulation. More than wandering halls and locked doors in every corridor. Humming allowedthe to use his voice a little, ragged as it was. Sometimes it was the Hymn, sometimes an aria he'd long forgotten the words to, sometimes songs from the radio over the years. Today was a day for ballet. Some might recognize the tunes of the many little songs from The Nutcracker. He half-assedly moved his feet with each songs. Hopping with Tea. Slowly turning with the Arabian dance. Or, like now, carefully trying to come close to the pirouettes of the Sugarplum Fairy.
Stare if you want, ask him what he's singing at all, the man needs something to do besides sleep.in thay tent at the edge of the desert...]
[Mantis collapses against a wall, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.]