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For the Kalligs; Party Time!
Sep. 7th, 2019 04:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starcrossedscoundrelThe Escape is bustling today; Dari is hosting an event that has drawn some attention. The tables in the center have been moved to make room for a larger, temporary stage, and various droids hover about, carrying lights and effects or projecting force fields to keep any practical effects from inconveniencing the audience.
The event? A dance-off, merged with a lip-syncing contest - yes, lip-syncing, no riding on musical ability to win the day. It's about being creative and remembering the lyrics because there's no improvisation of melodies to suit the routine.
And it's absolutely the kind of ridiculous fun Abric can get behind. That the entry fee helps fund the cantina is a substantial bonus. That winners get to keep their choice of effects droids and get free food for up to a standard year depending on placing, a smaller one. (That probe with the kaleidoscope effect light is so his, though.) He enters with a boisterous song and big, dramatic movements, and that awesome (gaudy) light, of course, and when he makes his way back to the booth he's sharing with his friends and family, he's grinning, sharing their laughter and riding the high of performing as an incorrigible showoff.
"You guys should've come with me," he said, leaning back in his seat. Flow smiled faintly and shook his head, while Oberon and Natirru shared reserved chuckles.
"I might have, if our styles wouldn't clash," said Oberon.
"It's a conflict of interest," said Natirru, "one of the volunteer judges knows me personally. I would skew her vote. She told me she was one of the judges, without knowing I'd be here."
"Oh? The tiny soldier or the anarchist?"
"Neither."
"...Please tell me it isn't your droid."
"Don't call her a droid and don't call her mine. ...But it's not her."
"Someone you know from your job?"
"You could say that. I'm not telling you who you're performing for, dear, they're hidden in the audience for a reason."
While Abric slapped Natirru's shoulder in playful frustration, Flow craned his neck to see over his taller boothmates. "Is that Val?"
The event? A dance-off, merged with a lip-syncing contest - yes, lip-syncing, no riding on musical ability to win the day. It's about being creative and remembering the lyrics because there's no improvisation of melodies to suit the routine.
And it's absolutely the kind of ridiculous fun Abric can get behind. That the entry fee helps fund the cantina is a substantial bonus. That winners get to keep their choice of effects droids and get free food for up to a standard year depending on placing, a smaller one. (That probe with the kaleidoscope effect light is so his, though.) He enters with a boisterous song and big, dramatic movements, and that awesome (gaudy) light, of course, and when he makes his way back to the booth he's sharing with his friends and family, he's grinning, sharing their laughter and riding the high of performing as an incorrigible showoff.
"You guys should've come with me," he said, leaning back in his seat. Flow smiled faintly and shook his head, while Oberon and Natirru shared reserved chuckles.
"I might have, if our styles wouldn't clash," said Oberon.
"It's a conflict of interest," said Natirru, "one of the volunteer judges knows me personally. I would skew her vote. She told me she was one of the judges, without knowing I'd be here."
"Oh? The tiny soldier or the anarchist?"
"Neither."
"...Please tell me it isn't your droid."
"Don't call her a droid and don't call her mine. ...But it's not her."
"Someone you know from your job?"
"You could say that. I'm not telling you who you're performing for, dear, they're hidden in the audience for a reason."
While Abric slapped Natirru's shoulder in playful frustration, Flow craned his neck to see over his taller boothmates. "Is that Val?"
