Violence In Violet

Twisted Roots

(Note: If your a lover for riots lore, i got some bad news. Ive twisted it majorly this chapter.. im sorry if you guys dislike that! Btw.. Im sorry about this taking so long.)

The charmer floundered around the considerably big sized congregation of vastayans, his eyes scintillationed gazing upon the glorious scaffolding. He felt as if he was going to swoon, the stage was sumptuous.

Without realizing Rakan was enticing the crowd that had heard of him, his appearance in the bar made eyes allured to him. The Golden bird scuffed watching some sort of lion hybrid dance on the displaying stage.

Nothing that could compare to his dances.

For the narcissist bird felt great pride even every single performance. Especially when it came to executing the paradisiacal vastayan dances.

Rhythm held no bounds for the young dancer rakan. Traditional vastayan dances were probably ideally his calling, but he loved spicing it up from time to time. It entirely depended on how the charmer felt that day.

Would he choose to let his golden feather shine in the eyes of all? Or would he leave remarkable glances of cluelessness in an entire crowd?

The possibilities for the golden vastayan were endless. Quickly he started to come in terms with everyone who was around him.

The vastayans had been acquisitive to witness the elegant traditional dances of there people. With the esteemed entertainer being the primary dancing contortionist.

A argent light bore beneath the feet of the intrigued golden feathered peacock. His grave smile never wore short as he arose from the crowd onto the stage once the lions performance had ceased.

•••

(Rakans perspective)

The illumination following me was purely synthesizing with my every move. Performance was a true ease for me, the charmer. The stage was grave, but graceful in the every step i had took. The lights shined against my golden feathers, reflecting a peaceful white light that in occurrence reflected a shine of royal golden.

The spotlight dazzled with the same ardent white, but against the stage which tended to remain a polished bronze, became an icy amber.

Lifting my hands they follow my flawless smile upwards with the rhythm of the elegant songs. In which my mouth would also follow along with the music.

My body hauled itself with the beat, my heart feeling as if itself was the beat I followed. My moves astonishing the crowd, the dancing I was exhibiting could be described as angelic. Like Xayah..

My attention drawed to the audience cheering my name in unison. I gaze within the audience, looking for a certain face in which I was fond of. Where was this face, the face I had uttermost desired to view?

The stained glass eyes of the mistress along with her colorful tears flooded my mind. My disruption in the mood wasn't obvious, as I continued to dance with furthermost perfection in the eyes of many.

But slowly the feeling creeped behind me, luminously hanging over my sorrow head. I missed her, and felt an emotion of needing to see her. Was this the emotion I thought I would never truly fall victim to?

Suddenly the presentation satisfaction of performing nevertheless wasn't as great, my heart pushed against my chest. It begged me to love her, how solemnly it did as-well.

I carried out the rest of the vastayan dance with graceful pride, every move I had ensured was of unsteadiness.

Every moment closer to the song ending was relief to me, the handsome golden charmer. As soon as the audience increased in volume, it was a guarantee that the performance had concluded. The agility was preeminent to the eye as I sore jumping from the platform on the stage to beyond the condensely compact crowd.