Though she hasn't been given much opportunity in her life to dance with a partner, Black Swan enjoys it nonetheless, and it's easy to pluck some memories from nearby patrons to ensure she knows the steps. It's a quick tempo, something meant to move to, and it makes the game they're playing that much more fun.
Acheron is delightfully graceful; as talented at this, Black Swan presumes, as she is in the dance of battle. And Black Swan's gaze is fixed, looking deep into Acheron's own, like they're the only two that exist on the dancefloor. By all right, to a Memokeeper's senses, Acheron should feel unpleasant -- the barbed wire wrapped around her memories, the chill of inevitibility that radiates off her, the sheer power of an Emanator, like standing next to a solar flare. But Black Swan has never put much stock into the concept of negative everyday sensations. She likes it when she gets caught in the rain and her clothes get soaked. She likes it when she bumps into somebody and spills her drink. She likes it when it's freezing cold. All of these things are beautiful human experiences -- and so, too, is Acheron's presence. That black hole tempered by her gentle touch, those spiny thorns softened by her empathetic gaze.
"Well, you may lack practice, but that seems to have absolutely no bearing on the final product," Black Swan laughs. "You're an excellent dancer, darling."
She lets a small pause elapse, and then, somewhere between polite and curious, she follows up with:
"Are you terribly busy with the business you have here? I'm a little surprised a Galaxy Ranger has time in their schedule to indulge me."
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Acheron is delightfully graceful; as talented at this, Black Swan presumes, as she is in the dance of battle. And Black Swan's gaze is fixed, looking deep into Acheron's own, like they're the only two that exist on the dancefloor. By all right, to a Memokeeper's senses, Acheron should feel unpleasant -- the barbed wire wrapped around her memories, the chill of inevitibility that radiates off her, the sheer power of an Emanator, like standing next to a solar flare. But Black Swan has never put much stock into the concept of negative everyday sensations. She likes it when she gets caught in the rain and her clothes get soaked. She likes it when she bumps into somebody and spills her drink. She likes it when it's freezing cold. All of these things are beautiful human experiences -- and so, too, is Acheron's presence. That black hole tempered by her gentle touch, those spiny thorns softened by her empathetic gaze.
"Well, you may lack practice, but that seems to have absolutely no bearing on the final product," Black Swan laughs. "You're an excellent dancer, darling."
She lets a small pause elapse, and then, somewhere between polite and curious, she follows up with:
"Are you terribly busy with the business you have here? I'm a little surprised a Galaxy Ranger has time in their schedule to indulge me."