entranceway | [video] a little party never killed anybody

[video] a little party never killed anybody

[After months of attempted planning (most of which was frequently cast to the wayside in favour of dealing with whatever fresh Hell decided to make itself known to them all) Evelyn has come to the conclusion that there will never be a "Good Time," and has therefore decided that with that being the case, it is simply easier to set what she likes, when she likes.

This is all a very runabout way of saying that Evelyn has politely asked the Mansion - which, as we all now know, is practically sentient - to deliver the following invitation to everyone's door:]

[Intangible* attachments have also been forwarded to each resident, supplemented by the following transmission:]

I'm holding a fête this Friday evening - there isn't a particular time for required attendance, it should be ongoing for several hours after dinner - and I should like as many parties as available to come. It is themed, as there are a number of us here from time periods before 1950, so appropriate attire is encouraged, but not mandated.

[This is in part due to a withering homesickness that Wonderland itself has been unable to satisfy.]

Kindly respond if you do plan to join, and I hope to see you all on Friday.

[*Evelyn is having a difficult time remembering to call them "digital."]

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I do, yes.

[Pre-War music is apparently very similar to her own, as Evelyn notices when she wanders over to look at his selection. The Ink Spots, Porter, Fitzgerald...they're all here, in half-collections and records, songs she recognises and a few she doesn't. There are some, it seems, several years after her time.]

We have the same taste.

[She laughs, leaning around him to peer at the tracklist. It speaks to the aesthetic of his world that in spite of the wastes from which he hails they still have something - whether that something is a relic of the past or a tradition that's carried down through generations remains to be seen.]

One of their albums should suffice to start, I think. A great deal slower.

[If Dan knew his history better, which he doesn't (and no history books had been written after the Great War to be of any help), he might be able to pinpoint the time when his own world and Evelyn's split apart. Music produced in her time is the same as his only because in at that time, their universes were still following the same path.

Only after the 1950s did things start to go in a different direction.

He slips the record out of its case and sets it on the player, placing the needle gently down. The trademark opening riff of the Ink Spots starts up, at first utterly disguising which song it is, and he clears his throat.]

Had an idea, an' tell me it ain't a good one if it's not. [He's sure she will, if she thinks so.] Maybe takin' our shoes off for a while 'd be a plan. Wouldn't wanna crush your toes.

[It is always difficult, no matter the album, to identify which Ink Spots song is which, primarily because they all sound the same for the first couple of bars. Hands clasping each other behind her back, Evelyn rocks on the balls of her feet and looks down at their shoes at his suggestion. Short heels and heavy boots, well, it's a terrible combination, which she freely admits.]

...I am very fond of my toes intact.

[Reaching out without warning she braces one hand on his shoulder and fumbles with the strap of a dance shoe, wresting it free and removing the second one shortly thereafter with Dan to support her. Both in hand, Evelyn moves to set them aside before standing in her stocking feet.

She grins at him.]

Now you.

Bet you are.

[And he'd feel a little guilty if he stepped on them and actually hurt her. Dan does not habitually wear light shoes, and the ones he has on right now are heavy and inset with steel toe caps.

Her hand suddenly gripping his shoulder makes him jump minutely, in the way he always, always jumps or flinches when someone touches him or something comes suddenly into view without prior warning. It seems that he mentally brushes it off each time, including this time as he brings one hand up to clasp over hers and keep her steady.

He watches her remove her shoes, focusing on the deft movement of her fingers on the straps then smirks in response to her grin.]

O' course, princess. [Dan teases, first crouching down to undo the laces of his boots then standing again to catch the heels with his toes and pull them off that way. Once done, they're nudged carefully aside with the side of his foot.]

A'right, where do we start?

Princess,

[Evelyn scoffs under her breath, hands on her hips as she watches him shuck his shoes and push them over to the gramophone. They're far too many lines into the song to start properly but that isn't the point of this lesson, which is understanding beat and rhythm and tempo.]

All right, come here. [She waves her hands but steps in anyway, closing the gap between them and explaining as she she directs him:] To better facilitate the movement to the tune of the piece, whatever it may be, we're just going to assume the starting position and sway a bit- ah, right hand here-

[Guiding the aforementioned hand to her waist, Evelyn slips it further to her back and rests her left on his shoulder. Her right hand picks up his left, and holds it aloft in a gentle grip as Maybe reaches its bridge. Evelyn casts him another encouraging smile, fully aware that this can be intimidating in the early stages.]

Now just...sway a little with it, your left foot with my right, and vice versa, side to side.

[Knew she'd like that one. Evelyn is a forceful woman, but he's finding his own little ways of niggling at her to make her smile. The song has been playing in the background all the while - Maybe, one of his favourites - but it still takes him by surprise that they're going to just step right into it.

He can pick up any weapon and teach himself to use it. Light a stick of dynamite and throw it into a gecko nest. He can run right at a frag mine and disarm it before it goes off, but this still makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

It's not entirely an unpleasant feeling.]

Huh--... like this? [He has no doubt that he looks as lost in doing this as he feels, but he meets her eyes and flashes an awkward half smile. At least he can take direction well.]

Heck, feels like I got two left feet.

Relax,

[she insists, which is certainly easier said than done. Dan is shuffling stiffly and it may or may not be something to attribute to self-consciousness over never having learned before, or just...a lack of desire to move into unfamiliar territory. It's difficult to tell at present.]

Don't think about your feet, just move side to side with the music - one, two, one two. [Evelyn tilts him along with her gingerly, being careful not to force too much too quickly.] Close your eyes if you have to.

[Eyebrows lifted she does as recommended, humming along quietly.]

Alright, alright... Relax, she says...

[He's seen people dance, but that's different, and it was a different kind of dancing. The kind of dancing you did when you were drunk or high or just wanted to forget that you could be dead by this time tomorrow.

Dan doesn't close his eyes. It's not her being there that's the issue, and nor is it a problem with his comfort zones... he thinks. Mostly, it's simple physical awkwardness in needing to make himself move in a way he's never tried before.

But the instruction she gives is gentle enough and he follows it, easing the stiffness out of his knees and finding the slow beat of the song in his own movements. It feels better.]

[Relax, she says, and means it, because while Dan might not take note of his own body's responses, the hand in hers twitches with tension and there is a distinct difference between locked knees and loose ones. He makes a new effort, one she appreciates and several seconds in Evelyn cracks an eye, opening completely to catch the slight furrow of his brow.

It does feel good, comparatively, and she gives his hand a little squeeze while slowly pulling him through a rotation, feet moving all the while.]

Better, [she notes quietly,] It's less rocking back and forth and more like an undulation. You're getting the hang of it.

[Dan snorts softly, low and under his breath and he gives her hand a faint squeeze in return to the reassurance she offers him. The pull to a new direction surprises him but helps, giving him a better idea of what she's looking for. No one could ever say that he wasn't a quick study.]

Okay, I got it. [He says with some measure of certainty, shifting his grip on her hand and straightening his posture.

She better appreciate this, he thinks briefly, but he knows very well that he's not going to hold it up as something she owes him for.]

Never seen any holotapes for dancin' like this. Seen rooms fit for it though.

[Dan shifts and sways with her, catching onto the easy motion rather quickly - a reassurance, because he's the one who should be leading when it comes down to it. For the time being Evelyn doesn't mind directing steps this way and that as they make a careful circle around the open space of the room.

(She does appreciate it, truly, and is happy he's decided to indulge her.)]

Ballrooms, and the like?

[Evelyn inquires, adjusting her hand on his shoulder and moving back as he moves forward. Making conversation is an excellent way to cut the tension behind learning something unfamiliar, and she volunteers:]

There are many different types, this is just a variety of slow dancing. I imagine there isn't much call for dancing at all in- where you're from.

[His movements have more certainty to them as he learns quickly, shifting his hand to her waist. As little as he knows about dancing, he knows the male partner is supposed to be the one who leads.

The change in step throws him, but only for a moment and with a quick glance down he notes what they're doing and follows through with it. Only once does he accidentally step on her foot and it's with a muffled laugh and a mischievous apology for the affront to her delicate toes.

If reading were as easy to pick up as dancing he would have had it pinned down long ago.]

In the Wasteland? [Dan assumes that's how she meant to finish that sentence.] No, not this kind. [He looks at her, a faint smile around the corners of his mouth.]

But, uh... I think I could get used to it.

[If I Didn't Care starts its first verse and Evelyn leans into the hand near her hip, now that he's found a certain comfort in the arrangement and pace. She bites back a grin at the minor faux pas, no harm done to her "delicate toes." Whether Dan has realised it or not, he's picked up the steps and the circular motion of the simplest dance remarkably fast. It seems unconscious given his multitasking.

He huffs a laugh, shrugs the idea off, feels very warm and very close. The contact alone is a Godsend.]

...mind you, you're not required to in the future, I only conned you into one evening of diabolical torment,

[Evelyn informs him crisply, despite making it clear that she would be amenable to other events in the foreseeable.]

[He can't say he minds it, either. The contact. Most physical contact in the wastes is either violent or intimate.. or both, and though caravaners who are familiar with one another will greet with a hearty handshake and a clap to the back, most women - rightly so - are wary of anyone who tries to get too close. Even in a place where everyone is fighting for survival, women still need to fight twice as hard to prove they can make it.

Having been brought up with some respect, and having seen many a woman soundly trounce a man who thought he could get the better of her, Dan's attitude tends to lend itself to a quicker building of trust. It's always been rewarding.]

Jus' the one? [He grins crookedly.] An' here I was wantin' to make use of this more than once.

[Since he's taking the time to learn, and all.]

Reckon I'll deal with it, sweetheart. Since it was you what asked.

[Evelyn might only go so far as to inflict her desire for recreation on others if that recreation takes a short amount of time. Extensive or habitual recreation would require more persuasion, she understands, and therefore runs the risk of becoming tiresome to the other party. It is therefore with delight that she returns the grin, given that he has volunteered himself and absolves her of any future guilt for asking.

This is only setting a precedent, but he wouldn't have agreed unless he wanted to do so: for himself, or for her. Accustomed to getting her way but cognisant of the sacrifices other may make to allow that to happen Evelyn has the grace to look politely pleased, rather than smug.]

I'll remember you said that the next time I ask you to do something.

Hmmm. Feel like I might'a opened a can of worms, there.

[All in jest, naturally. Evelyn has a way about her that means there's little he wouldn't agree to, simply because she asked, but even Dan has his limits. He trusts she'd take him seriously if he ever told her 'no' and meant it. There isn't any guilt to be given in asking.

The dancing doesn't feel too bad. It took a few minutes to get a grip on the rhythm he needed to use and to stop almost treading on Evie's feet, but determination is good for more than just staying alive in adverse conditions. Apparently it also works for simple dance steps.]

So, what next? Not that this ain't nice.

Mmmaybe.

[On her end, Evelyn would never ask anyone to do something she didn't think they already wanted to do, which is why she was beyond confident that Dan would acquiesce to her request - even if it came in the form of a demand. She is not in the habit of ordering people about unless both parties have come to an agreement about preferring things that way.]

I'm not going to ask you to do the Lindy-Hop, Dan,

[Evelyn reminds him, because there are plenty of sprightly folk with more experience in shuffle-ball-changes, and while swaying in a slow dance from side to side is a prerequisite for everything else he probably isn't willing to commit to something serious.]

A waltz might be a little faster, though. How do you feel about speeding things up?

The hell's a Lindy-Hop?

[Asked good naturedly as he steps back from her and rocks back briefly on his heels. There hasn't been much dimming in his mood since she arrived - if anything he's only become more cheerful.

'Waltz' is a word he knows, and he knows it's a dance, but he couldn't tell anyone anything else about it. It's one of those words that you hear but never really know how to apply to a real world situation, so it simply sits in the back of your vocabulary slowly gathering dust.]

I think I can stand t' speed things up. Jus' talk me through it.

All right.

[The Lindy-Hop, an incredibly fast-paced dance that evolved out of Harlem, New York City, and spread across America in the 20's and 30's, is something to which Evelyn will never subject Dan, because she would not subject anyone to it except her older brother. (Jonathan Carnahan, connoisseur of fine alcohols and Americanisms, learned most of the popular dances as they came out and taught his baby sister as soon as he could wheedle acquiescence from her.)

Evelyn parts from Dan and absentmindedly pats his shoulder on her journey to the gramophone, the volume level of which she turns much lower to prevent distraction while rummaging for another record.]

The waltz is a dance executed in triple time. It follows music where the beat has a very steady one-two-three, one-two-three pace- ah!

[Jack Hylton & His Orchestra are pulled from the stack, exchanged for The Ink Spots, and the first track is (luckily) the one she wanted. Evelyn grins reassuringly over her shoulder at him.]

You'll hear the same pace in this particular piece by Jack Hylton.

[He loosely folds his arms and watches her while she searches the records, head faintly tilted to one side as his attention falls to the back of her neck (slightly exposed by the fall of her hair as she leans forwards), the curve of her back (careful, mostly from the middle upwards, she holds herself so straight) and the way one of her feet points just slightly off to one side when she stands still, even barefoot.

When she grins at him, he smiles quickly back and lets his hands drop.]

Don't know that one. [He admits. Maybe if he listened to more radio.

With another, more charming smile, he offers a hand out to her.]

Let's get started.

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[video] a little party never killed anybody

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