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 Posted: Sun Mar 15, 2026 10:26 am
(This is a solo RP for ToniCourtel's 'Byzantine Blues' Nerezi, Alaia Vissarion "The Ivory Scion" and Apanii Sildur. Please do not post here unless invited.)
[Teepee]
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Posted: Sun Mar 15, 2026 10:28 am
The Jay Peryton mare known as Nerezi lingered just outside of the rope barrier that marked the edge of the dance rehearsal field, her bright eyes fixed on the different mares traversing the plush emerald bed of grass with graceful, elegant strides. Though the techniques were numerous, the styles as unique as the mares that employed them, there was beauty in each and every one. On display was a variety of styles all with the goal of expressing the emotions and stories that the artists wished to convey. Whether they were fierce, ferocious, soft, mournful, elegant or sad, each showed something stunning and important.
Nerezi couldn't help but try and soak all of them in, wanting to learn as much as she could. One of the newer arrivals to the Faire, she hadn't had much of a chance to establish herself among the artisans or the various host herds, but she was certainly trying. While there was a core group that seemed, somewhat unpleasant to say the least, most of the others seemed amenable to helping new artists, sharing techniques, creating routines and anything else she was up for. The tough part was building up the courage to ask.
Today though, today Nerezi would try. Regrettably, she had seen Lilavati pacing away from the field while still on her own approach, and even heard the distant chime of her practice costume. Well then, today she wouldn't get to try gleaning techniques from the Silver Tapir Dancer, she'd work with what she had.
Upon arrival ringside she was struck by the view of the regal, dangerous smoke show of a white mare she had only seen on rare occasions. Three sets of white and smoky charcoal wings veined with gold spread and folded, waved and flipped, emphasizing movement as the brief, combative solo drew to its end. At the sudden cessation of movement, several of the other dancers called approvingly to the mare now breathing somewhat heavily in their midst.
"Oh, wow." 'Byzantine Blues' Nerezi Wordcount: 331
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Posted: Sun Mar 15, 2026 11:22 am
Though not particularly tall or heavily warhorse in terms of build, Alaia Vissarion "The Ivory Scion" was a warrior, born and bred. A gift from the spirits to mothers that were fiercely competitive, often unyielding, and regularly both elegant and dangerous. The product of warrior dynasties, a heady combination of Valkyrie and Glory Wielder. The likes of which few would expect, and fewer still could hope to survive. Not constrained by a herd's codes so much as buoyed by her mother's support. Unleashed upon the lands with her sister, her duty to make them proud.
But truly, one could not fight and hunt all the time. Time should be allotted for other interests, when possible. It was perhaps the reason for her affinity for the Faire, for the escape and options it provided in terms of entertainment and diversions. Brightly colored fabrics in the form of costumes and tents and draperies. A seemingly endless market of basic goods and finely crafted arts of all kinds. There was food and fine wares, jewelry and costume options, theater and music and comedy acts, and the dancing.
The dancing Alaia was rather (incredibly) fond of, though she could not claim a pedigree in such a thing the way she could battle. No, this did not come from either of her mothers or any of her grand parents, as far as she can tell. This was all her. Hers in a way that she had to work at, that she threw herself into wholeheartedly. Maybe that was why it seemed to weigh more, seemed to have more value to her. She earned it all on her own, not on her name or that of her mothers' or the herd's. So of course, once she had it, she would fight to keep it. Would rehearse anywhere she had the chance, so that when she returned to the girls she could prove she had not let things lapse.
Breathing with moderate heaviness, Alaia hit her final pose for the routine and laughed at the sudden burst of supportive calls and cheers. "You're very kind... I'm afraid I still dance like I fight but I promise I'm trying to learn from all of you!" Alaia Vissarion "The Ivory Scion" Wordcount: 367
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Posted: Sun Mar 15, 2026 11:52 am
The sun was shining brightly overhead as the blue morpho butterfly mare stepped up to the field a few minutes into the latest performance run through. Humming thoughtfully, Apanii Sildur tilted her head, watching the fierce sweep of wings and legs that had taken center stage in the practice field. The mare in question was not exactly well known to her, but something of a passing acquaintance. They were familiar enough to speak on some dance styles and moves, after exhausting the typical pleasantries like polite small talk about the Faire and weather. Familiar enough that Apanii could recognize when work is being put in, that sort of thing.
As she had come to expect from Alaia, Apanii could see the skill present, but she also recognized a slight softening of edges. Could see when wings were slowly adapting to being used like fans, like silks, rather than weapons. Rather than just another way to fight back. Alaia was changing, was absorbing new techniques, just as she said. It was early days, but the effort was evident. That was the important part.
Apanii waited a few moments to let some of the others step forward to give their opinions, then drifted over when Alaia moved herself to the outskirts so the next rehearsal could begin.
"It's not necessarily a bad thing." Apanii offered with a faint smile, a quirk of one corner of her mouth that she paired with a little flick of her lip to soften the assessment. "That you dance like you fight. There are a few others that probably carry a lot of their other life into their performances. It's what makes you unique as an artist, in a way."
Apanii Sildur: 283
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Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2026 1:32 pm
By no means a fighter, notable or otherwise, and still reluctant to describe herself as a dancer, Nerezi nodded a soft agreement as she carefully approached the group, hoping to be included in the conversation. Her own past and upbringing were surely contributing factors to how she regarded her progress and mastery of the art form, were what made her somewhat restrictively think of herself as a 'student of dance' rather than a fully fledged 'dancer'. Which was silly, even Nerezi could admit, because in the face of anyone else referring to themselves that way she would have practically gone to war to defend their right to the claim. Wouldn't have let her friends limit themselves in such a manner, diminish themselves in that way.
So why did she struggle so when attempting to apply the logic to her own flawed reasoning? She couldn't rightly say, but she rather supposed that acknowledging the matter, f only to herself, was a decent enough first step. Progress, of a kind, one might say. If they were being generous or at least moderately gracious, as she herself evidently needed to practice being.
Alaia's warrior steps were fierce and unique, but the softening of her edges due to the influence of other artists was compelling. Nerezi couldn't quite bring herself to guess what the eventual end stages of her craft evolution might be, but she certainly wants to see them.
"That was incredibly beautiful," Nerezi chimes in softly when the space has had a chance to breathe and someone else has claimed the field for a rehearsal. "I know it may not yet be at the level you are wanting, but it does look fantastic so far." 'Byzantine Blues' Nerezi Wordcount: 283
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Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2026 1:53 pm
Alaia finds that she is a confused mix of reluctant and relieved to surrender the field to the next rehearsal or performance. Trying to keep her muscles warm and loose she walks off of the field and paces the sidelines for a moment, moving toward the roped off edges of a warm-up field to get herself a little space from the metaphorical center of attention. It strikes her as more polite to move away and let the new dancers enjoy the attention of the group, so that those that wish to discuss her performance do not limit or distract the next one performing.
Her head raises at the appearance of Apanii, the white mare offering the morpho butterfly a greeting nod. She has seen a routine or two by the black butterfly, and envies her the soft natural grace that she carries into a dance.
"No, I don't find it a bad thing." Alaia agrees easily enough. "It's just, a distinct separate discipline, one might say? I'm not on the field to fight, I am on the field to dance. So I will practice and learn and try to grow, so that my dancing doesn't look like my fighting. Or at least, it doesn't look like my fighting all the time? I think the occasional routine that looks like a battle would be an interesting performance. But that's not all I am about, so that's not all I want my dancing to reflect. Not if I can evolve and change, and do more. Do better."
She fluffs and resettles her wings, folding them down and half-tucking them to her sides. She's still too hot to completely put everything away, keeps herself in soft motion to aid in cooling off. As she winds back around in another circle she hesitates at the sudden appearance of the dark jay mare. The compliment stops her in her tracks, prompts a faint blush.
"Oh." She murmurs in soft surprise. "Thank you so much." Alaia Vissarion "The Ivory Scion" Wordcount: 329
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Posted: Sat Apr 25, 2026 2:54 pm
"There's nothing wrong with being a unique performer. Most probably strive for it." The blue morpho mare points out, agreeing with what the other blue mare offers as gentle reassurances. "But of course the improvement of one's art is what all artists strive for. I can understand why you wouldn't want as much overlap in the two practices, that you would want them to be distinct."
Apanii nods faintly when Alaia speaks her agreement, ear flicking in the direction of the newly arrived Peryton mare she's seen around now and again. The winged mare hasn't been with the Faire as long as Apanii has, she's distinctly new, but she's not as fresh as some of the others. She's been around here and there, danced a little, is familiar in a distant sort of way. Apanii grasps for her name, thinking she's heard it from a distance now and then... Nera, maybe?
"I think I've seen you since the last big festival, yes?" Apanii queries gently, flicking her tail and shifting idly on her hooves to keep her muscles loose and everything limber. "You're a dancer also, like Alaia and I? Not a fighter though, hmm? Maybe you two can work on something, then? I don't have wings to chime in with my own sense, but I'll help if I can. I am Apanii Sildur, I train with Lila and some of the others now and then. I have seen most of the others from a distance, but I'm afraid I don't know everyone's names."
She gives a bashful duck of her head, flicking her tail in a feline lash. "But, like Alaia, I'm doing my best to learn."
Apanii Sildur: 278
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