Dreadlords Manners To Teach || Part II

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Perrine Urahil

i CaN hEaL hIm !
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There had been dinner parties, wine tasting, food pairing, and greeting etiquette. The discussion of formal attire, proper etiquette of calling a visit to a home. Etiquette of drinking tea, and how to organise any function found in Vel Anir.

Many listened, and a lot more participated begrudgingly. Initiates only had to take the class for a year, but they would be the more knowledgeable going out into society if their orders deigned them so.

Today's lesson would take part in the larger room attached to the class room, the room bare save for the piano tucked into the far corner. Proctor Urahil stood between the two rooms and ushered in the class, waiting until she knew most of them were in attendance before moving towards the center of the room. "As promised, this is the first lesson of ten what will teach you the various dances seen at many Anirian events. I ask that those of you well versed in their combinations to help your peers." She then strode to the far wall, pulling back the heavy curtain to reveal the mirrors that stretched across the wall. "Today we shall start with the common waltz, and then the Anirian waltz. Get yourselves into pairs and spread out, please."

Perrine strayed from the mirror and took a moment to watch as the Initiates began to pair off, some finding another easily, some bargaining, and some struggling to find someone that was not already paired. She had hoped there was an even number...




Initiates!
Time to put on your dancing shoes and learn how to dance, etiquette style!
Either have a partner, or NPC one if you prefer.
This thread is to span over ONE lesson.

Turn orders may mix arounnd, but we will get to that when needed.
 
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Fennec had attended every etiquette class she'd been present on Academy grounds for. Though well versed in much of these lessons already thanks in part to private tutoring arranged by Harkenov, it behooved her to learn under another mentor in order to ensure she had all her bases covered. Perrine had offered knowledge of smaller-known practices and varieties, many of which had already come in useful for her current mission, so she assumed the dance lessons would be no different.

She did, in fact, know the common and Anirian waltz, though she was rather out of practice on both.

Upon her attendance to the first etiquette class it had been suggested that she forgo the painting of her face, so it was with this class and every other class thereafter that she attended with the horrific scarring and corruption of her face on full display for all to see. It wasn't any less distracting than her usual appearance, but it did free up time to find more appropriate wardrobe other than her usual leather and bone body armor.

Today she had selected a fitted, long-cut tunic of black that would allow her to move freely and comfortably with boots that featured a small heel to add to her height. Being the shortest Initiate in the class had its advantages on the sparring grounds, but it was more or less an irksome thing to manage when it came to dancing.

But no more irksome than finding a willing partner.
 
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Reactions: Perrine Urahil
Red crushed velvet shirt, check.
Trim slacks, check.
Knee high boots of fine Imperial Leather... not check.
Those were soundly destroyed when he transformed in front of Fennec, so his dress shoes and stockings would have to do. Crocodile skin, of course.
Gloves of vole. Only the best and softest.
Pale makeup, rouge on cheeks and just a hint of painted lips, blood red of course.
When Orchid Galleus walked, nay strutted into the class for etiquette he was every image an utter fop.

He found the looks of the other Initiates an absolute delight especially... HER!
His eyes widened as he saw her.
This was the most welcome of impossibilities.
Fennec, sans armour, sans makeup.
Seeing it twice he knew now how privileged he had been to see it at all. Her face was a tapestry of ruin.
He could have looked at it for hours.
 
Perrine watched in the reflection as the Initiate Galleus locked sight on that of Vel Olera. The Proctor's brows furrowed slightly, curious to the interactions of unlikely friends.

How odd...She thought to herself. Clearing her throat, she raised her voice slightly to be heard over the commotion of partnering up.


"Are we paired yet? I will give you one more minute to sort yourselves out before we make a start on our lesson." She turned to look over her shoulder, looking to the Initiates over her waterfall of blonde hair that cascaded in effortless waves down her back. "Choose wisely. This will be the pairings for every lesson on dance etiquette." She warned.
 
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Reactions: Fennec
Well, no surprise that the other Initiates had quickly paired themselves off to avoid being paired with her. If Fennec could complete the task on her own, she would have. Perhaps the Proctor would offer to fill the spot since the class was at an odd number-

The door opened and Fen's face immediately when stone-sour. She'd been preoccupied with calculating who was the potentially worst partner in the room to have and overlooked his approach to the classroom, but the moment that door cracked open she could sense him. The mute Initiate bristled.

NO.

Not again.

"Choose wisely. This will be the pairings for every lesson on dance etiquette." She warned.

Some fate had a very horrible sense of humor and Fennec vowed to find them and debride their figure inch by inch. She stood from her seat at the bench, slowly swallowing the disgust of her current predicament, and turned a grave and annoyed stare upon his grinning self. The scars of her face twisted into her grimace as she shut her eyes, took a long, slow, deep breath, and decided to just get on with it.

A true Dreadlord would overcome any setback, obstacle, or challenge without a second thought.


When her dark eyes opened again, she silently gestured with a curt nod of her head to the dancefloor and moved to take up an open spot.
 
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Orchid stepped towards Fennec slowly and gave a curt nod as as he took position with her.
He could still smell that smell, the one he thought was make up. It must be something else.
More mysteries, charming.
"The make up really does you no justice."
He said in utter sincerity knowing she'd loath hearing it all the more since it was.
She didn't look at him any different. She had seen him, more of him than most and she still held the same look of utter contempt as she did the first night on the lake.
It was nice, an acceptance in its own way.