22 April 2006
Another moderntimes fic. I realise that this could be seen as an AU, but moderntimes fic suits it a little better. I am plotting out chapter three and will soon begin writing it.
Disclaimer: I do not own No Rest for the Wicked ( w w w . f o r t h e w i c k e d . n e t ). This comic belongs to Andrea L. Peterson. "I Bet You Good On The Dancefloor" is copyright the Arctic Monkeys and their record company, whatever that may be -this song finally got me off my bum and typing.
On the Dancefloor
They stood around the gaming machine, watching the strange girl with shining raven hair and red shirt. They watched as she leapt from arrow to arrow in perfect unison, the rest of her body in tune with the music. Highest score, most envied for her slender ballerina body and hair. No one knew her name, she was Red to everyone.
She spent an hour every day after school, playing on the same few coins that she had carefully slid into the slot. New gamers challenged her, thinking that she couldn't possibly beat them with her lack of gaming lingo and thin body. Every one of the challengers headed out, shamed and wouldn't come back for a week or so.
Red danced seemed to prefer to dance by herself, and everyone was more than willing to comply. If someone disturbed her her piercing brown eyes would catch hold of the culprit's and make them break down in miserable apology.
What made her stranger yet was that she always wore a red shirt -tank top, T-shirt, long-sleeved, striped. It didn't matter, it was always red. People still crowded around her, waiting for when she would choose free-style. She didn't have an challengers, save for the occasional half-wit that somehow missed every warning sign -subtle or otherwise.
No one knew which school she went to. They all knew she lived nearby, there was no point otherwise to come. The first few weeks the arcade was abuzz with questions, rumours, and theories. Gradually, everyone drifted away and lost interest in the topic. They lost interest in all but one: she had an axe. No one actually saw it, but when a few brave souls had managed to ask all she would do was smile wickedly and hop on the next arrow.
Red had become a part of the arcade, part of the comfortable -even though she was anything but- routine. They didn't expect anything, just assumed that no one could beat her near-perfect score, and mainly watched.
Red was confident in her own skills, knew she could beat the cocky kid with their ugly sneers. She knew this and everyone else knew this.
It seemed that one person had missed the memo.
He came out of no where, clothed in jeans and a white T-shirt. Everyone stared at his white hair -wavy, short, and black at the roots and tips- and his yellow-green eyes. They didn't bother with his name -something old, something French. What they notised the most about him was the fact that he was only a few points away from beating Red.
This little fact irritated Red and she danced better than she ever did. She wasn't used to competition, to someone who was as good of a dancer as she -and that made her hate Perrault. She would dance against him, pushing her body further than she ever had to do. What made this situation even more irritating was the fact that he didn't seem to tire.
His feelings towards her seemed to be mutual. He would smirk at her every now and then, but generally avoided contact with her. The gamers, both casual and advanced alike, were excited by this competitiveness and often gathered round to watch.
What excited them further still was that there was DDR competition coming up within a fortnight and those two had been the first to sign up. Most of the girls were secretly cheering for the attractive young man, but the rest were cheering for Red to show him that she could hold onto her title.
The others that had signed up were beaten mercilessly round after round. They left looking pained and trying to contain their tears. The audience felt sympathy, but shrugged it off. Against Red and the New Guy they knew they wouldn't have stood a chance.
Red sent a glare at Perrault.
He replied with the slightest curl of the mouth.
They stood on their metal squares, staring intently at the screen. As soon as the music started Red could feel herself becoming lost within it. She knew the arrows very well now, could work with it mechanically and still win, but she danced. Even if she preferred to keep anything outrageous away from prying eyes the small, almost non-existent, part of her wanted to show off. She jumped dramatically, her body working with the training she had taken in the past and the new rules she had learned in a few mere months.
This was the part that she loved and hated the most, the part where she couldn't even hear the words. She was ushered into the music, so much so that she barely notised Perrault. She didn't notice when his arm snaked around her waist and his other hand yanked on her wrist, his lips catching her all in one fluid motion.
There was a sudden hush as she pulled away, shocked at first, but then panicked. What if she had missed that move. She looked at the screen, almost tripping as she tried to regain her footing. She hadn't missed a step. She glanced at Perrault's screen and saw that he had missed one. How?
Red continued dancing, though only half-heartedly. The song had long finished, Red announced the winner, but she still could feel his mouth on hers.
The others whispered, wide-eyed, disbelieving. He had stepped on the arrow for her, throwing the competition effectively. They searched for the two of them, but both had left. They never saw either one and didn't know what happened to them. Though, it is rumoured that Red discarded dancing and decided to hunt instead. But sounds so silly, others have reasoned that she joined a ballet company. Or, maybe, she is in subconscious search of Perrault to thank him for something that she couldn't figure out.
I had this story in my mind longer than Bus Stop 39, but I wasn't sure how to write it. It didn't quite come out the way I originally wanted it to, but at this one is longer than the others. I adore this fandom, but it becomes a little frustrating when most of the stories get reviewed. I hope that whoever reads this will go and r+r the others, most of which I have under my favourites.