Private Sunlight

[Kyrinov]

A F E M A​

Objective: Get Into Dance School
Location: The Aviary, Fresia
Equipment: Dress of Salvation | Encrypted Comm Device
Tags: Darth Acharon

The Sandali woman was far out of her element here. The Scintilla was regulated as was the Chaplain’s personal residence. Here, on a world swamped by water, it was suffocating in its own way. At least the land was wide enough in this region so that one could not see water on the horizon, it might’ve made her sick.

Maritime musings weren’t the only reason she was here, however, she could have gone to Maymgnosis for that. Today, she was to return to her roots. Before her voyage into the Unknown, before she officially became a refugee and found work of her own. Her employer recommended that she seek out the Aviary in the distant Core. Afema wasn’t familiar with the establishment, even after all of her years of professional dancing.

This wasn’t a standard undertaking, dancing, as a career, wasn’t something she’d practiced in the past year. Hopefully she didn’t look like a baby Fathier when she tried. Afema prayed that muscle memory was as good as it was made out to be. A quick speeder ride and she found herself in a small city, asking for directions from locals. She thanked the boy and gave a genuine smile for his help, unfolding her fan and flapping it about as she wove through the small crowds. The walk was short, but enjoyable nonetheless, it was a beautiful day. It was truly a shame that she was still on official business, otherwise she’d explore the town and have some down time to herself.

Luckily, the Aviary wasn’t too hard to find, especially not in a backwater world such as this. A quick flick of an ebony wrist brought the fan to a close as she pushed gently against the door and walked inside. The sight she beheld was a beautifully simplistic one. The building, naturally, was… mundane compared to what Afema was accustomed to. But, the dancers themselves were quite graceful and some were decent at their chosen craft. Some practiced in unison, in smaller groups, and some chose to work alone, trying to refine the smaller details and expressions that made the body sing.

Fair eyes floated across the room to what seemed to be the only instructor. A young man that stood back and watched, analyzing each move to look for adjustments and pointers to give. Finding him had been easy enough. “Excuse me?” Afema inclined her head slightly, relaxed her shoulders and strolled across the room until she reached the man.

A smile lit up her features. “Hello, I’m Afema. Are you the dance instructor? I’m hoping to attend your school, if that’s alright by you. I have some experience but I’ve been out of the game for a bit and I thought that returning to the basics would be as good a place to start as any.”


​

 

[Darth Acharon]

Fresia had never been a place Cyrus planned on visiting when he was growing up. Heck, he had barely even heard of the world before he came here a few months ago, and was only vaguely aware of it from mandatory classes back on Chandrilla. He had always imagined he would grow up and open his own studio on Chandrilla, possibly near his families own, though the idea of branching out to the south of the planet has always appealed to him as well. Then the accident had happened...and any thoughts that involved his family had been lost to him. An entire lifetime of possibilities taken in a single night.

Looking around the Aviary, he figured he could have done worse given all of that. It had once been a small restaurant, with booths littering the floor irregularly and peeling paint on all the walls. Cyrus had been able to get it at a bargain, something he had desperately needed given his depleted funding, and remade what he could. Almost everything had been torn out of the one storied structure, with only the mirrors along the walls remaining. The ceiling had been repainted in various shades of dark purple and black, flowing in spirals and designs meant to be reminiscent of a dancer in motion. He had done most of that himself, and still had some of the bruising from the numerous falls he had taken off the ladder.

Three raised platforms dominated the main floor of the structure, once meant to be a bar, kitchen, and private dining area, but now torn down to serve as studios. Each one was dedicated to a different area of the Aviary, with beginner classes at the front, intermediary in the middle, and the more advanced classes on the one furthest from the entrance. As it was, almost no one was in the third area. Fresia did not have much of an interest in dancing, as it was, with most people turning their nose up at the prospect. It had taken weeks for Cyrus to get even the first few students to sign up for classes, and he was still not making a profit. It was not what he had been expecting to have to worry about when opening his own studio.

He was currently with the intermediary class, mostly made up of younger adults and teenagers when a...feeling, if he had to put a name to it, made him glance up as the woman entered the Aviary. Even as she approached, Cyrus' eyes roamed over her, though not in a romantic way. His eyes were calculating as he watched how she moved, the grace in her limbs, and the way she held herself at rest. Even before she introduced herself he knew she was a dancer, and the smile that spread across his face came naturally.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Afema. My name is Cyrus and I am the instructor and owner of the Aviary. We can certainly get you started in some classes if that is your desire, though I would like to get to know you a bit more first, so I can get a feel where you would be starting. What kind of experience do you have?"

Kyrinov

 

[Kyrinov]

A F E M A​

Objective: Get Into Dance School
Location: The Aviary, Fresia
Equipment: Dress of Salvation | Encrypted Comm Device
Tags: Darth Acharon

<I’m in.>

Her intuition never ceased to lead her to the correct choice. This trend held true today. It seemed that the Universe and the Force were on her side of the scales, tipping them slightly in her favor. Pearly white teeth shone as he confirmed that he was just the man she’d been searching for. “Of course!” she intoned cheerfully. “I have about a decade of experience, I’ve traveled through the Core and through the Rims. I traveled with a small company, but I enjoyed every moment of it. Though, I was never fond of space travel, as any good dancer is, I learned to be flexible and tolerant.”

<Good. Meet me at the Arches, take any major transport and you can’t miss it. Dance lessons will come soon enough.>

<Of course.>

She afforded herself a small laugh and let herself relax. Afema glanced around at the meager studio, if it could be called that. It was a miserable place and was in need of obvious repair and renovation. Both of which could be rearranged on a larger planet, one that would give him a far greater and more diverse selection of pupils and peers. But, first, she needed to see what he was currently working with.

“Would you mind if I watched for today? I’d like to see how you teach, if that’s okay.”

That was all she had to say and she turned to look at the dancers practicing still in the background after receiving her answer. Her fan unfolded once more and she fanned herself as she watched a small group of new arrivals stretch and laugh together, holding each position for longer than necessary. Another trio was practicing drills, attempting to perfect a small number. The human on the right clearly took the lead and counted off to rehearse it again after one of his partners stumbled and managed to recover quite well.

A perfectionist, it seems.

Years of training and court-esque elegance demanded that she not turn up her nose and she narrowly suppressed the urge to do so. Arrogance was a trait she found most unbecoming, especially in theatrics. Deep eyes watched and listened and analyzed what she observed through the hours, pleased in the Chaplain’s selection. Afema hung back and waited for the last of the students to leave to approach Cyrus once more, tossing him a canteen of cool water that she’d packed for the trip. “Would you mind following me? I know someone that’d like to meet you, he’s heard good news about you and I believe he’s got an offer worth your time, if you’re willing to listen.”

<We’ll be there soon. May Discordia guide you.>

​

 

[Darth Acharon]

Cyrus narrowed his eyes briefly as Afema spoke, though the smile on his face never wavered. Afema seemed to have a wealth of experience when it came to the field of dancing. To find work with a troop that traveled across both the Core and Rim territories meant they had wealth, backing, or possibly even both. A dislike for space travel might explain why she left that life, but it was rare for a dancer to leave such secure, profitable, and mobile work. Even more, it was bizarre to Cyrus that she had ended up here, on a backwater Core world when her experience might very well have landed her a terrestrial job on one of the brighter Core Worlds, possibly even Chandrilla itself.

"Well, it certainly sounds like you have gotten up to quite a lot in your time, and I am eager to see your experience later." He spoke as he inclined his head to a small desk sitting in the corner of the studio, shoved against a corner and a broken mirror. "You can certainly watch, you can take a seat at my desk over there. No need to stand around all day." His words were barely out of his mouth when a small group of his students entered the Aviary, part of his midday wave of students. A few parents saw the Aviary as a sort of day care for them, with prices that were far better than anything they could find elsewhere. Those students mostly sat around all day despite Cyrus' best efforts. The midday students were a bit better, coming from school and mostly on a voluntary nature.

As they went about stretching, Cyrus prepared the classes for the day, organizing the students into small groups, and moving them towards the mirrors all along the walls. He gave them steps, instructions, critiques, and end goals that they had to do before they could stop. The older students were used to it by now, and pushed on without complaint, while the younger students bemoaned their fates. Cyrus was not lenient towards either, and only offered mild approval to those that were able to do what was asked in sequence without flaw. Back on Chandrilla, his parents had raised him with a simple work ethic, if you could call it that, and he had brought that to the Aviary.

You do not reward accomplishment, but must punish failure.

It was a strict and brutal policy, but it had helped Cyrus get to where he was today. After a few hours, the classes came to an end, and parents began to show up to pick up their students, while others simply began to walk home. As he turned to talk to Afema, his hand shot out on impulse and caught the bottle thrown to him, shaking it for a moment before opening the lid and taking a long drink. He allowed his students to take break during the day, but at irregular timings. While one group practiced, another was on break, allowing Cyrus to keep tabs on everyone as best he could. It did not offer him much time for a break, but such was life he thought.

His eyebrows rose as she spoke to him again, and he folded his arms across his chest casually as he leaned against a mirrored wall. "Is this someone a dancer like yourself? I was just about to close up for the day so I suppose I can meet them. Give me a few minutes and I will meet you outside."

Kyrinov