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| Flights of fancy.; For purebloodymurder | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 21 2010, 12:21 AM (298 Views) | |
| Daisuke Travis | Mar 21 2010, 12:21 AM Post #1 |
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Nerd of all things sci-fi, including alien abductions!
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"Jeff Palosi is here with us now, live from the New York studios with Channel 8 for an interview about his latest dance to hit Broadway. At roughly 27 years of age, Jeff Palosi is one of the worlds most esteemed dancers, but he isn't known just for his teaching style. Here we shall ask the question that people across the nation, and the world, have been waiting to ask him. My name is Martha Steissand, and welcome to the show Jeff Palosi." A man walked into the first seat from the door, the small crowd assembled in the studio of only about 30 guests yelling as he walked out. Jeff wore a gray t-shirt with the Quiksilver logo on the front along with blue jeans that were only slightly scuffed at the knees. He wore no glass to speak of, no contacts, and had no cane or seeing eye dog. The host on the other hand, wore an impeccable outfit that set her figure off as much as it played to her cleavage. "Good morning Ms. Streissand, it's good to be on the show. Please, just call me Jeff, otherwise it feels stuffy." The woman smiled graciously, "Very well Jeff, you can call me Martha by the way. We're glad to have you here on the show." Jeff nodded his thanks, his eyes focusing on her though not straight in the eye. "Now to start the interview Jeff, I'd like to ask you something that all our guests and viewers are asking. With your medical condition, why did you choose to be a Dance Instructor out of all the other career choices you could have made? It must have been hard on you." Jeff smiled, his white teeth perfectly clean from constant attention to hygiene, his teeth almost reflecting the light back at the cameras, they were so perfectly white. "Well growing up being mostly blind is hard on any child, you're constantly teased at school, picked on because you can't defend yourself, that sort of thing. Now, the thing is," Here Jeff started gesturing with his hands, changing position so that one leg was resting upon the knee of the other leg, "I'm what you call 'legally blind'. That doesn't mean I can't see anything, I can see fairly clearly a few feet away from me, but anything beyond that is very fuzzy. Even you, close as you are, are very fuzzy to me. I can tell the vague color of your outfit, and when the light hits you just right, I can even tell that you're wearing earrings, but other than that I can't see any specific features of you or your outfit." "Being legally blind means that I get certain benefits from the federal government for working, travel, and other necessary things like social security benefits. I can still do everything that someone who isn't 'legally blind', I just have to be more careful where I put my hands when I'm in the kitchen. Just walking around is easy enough unless the furniture is the same color as the floors and walls. When I was in your directors office for instance, if it weren't for the picture of the PGA gold tournaments on his walls, I would have sworn I was locked in a cubicle dedicated to AstroTurf." The audience laughed at the jab to the director, then obligingly quieted down so that Jeff could continue. "As to why I became a Dance Instructor, so many people have said that I couldn't go to college because I can't read the blackboard, or that I couldn't ride a bike because I can't see far enough, or that I can't cook because I can't tell the difference between paprika, chili powder, and cilantro. Well let me tell you, I may not be able to see the difference between paprika and chili powder, but I can damn well taste and smell the difference I'll tell you now!" The audience laughed again, and Jeff laughed right along with them. "But seriously, it wasn't easy going through the necessary courses to become a Dance Instructor. I almost had to be standing right next to the professor in order to see what they were doing, when they were showing us a dance move and how to teach others to recreate it. I actually ended up being kept out of a couple dance schools just because I couldn't see the teachers without being too close for comfort." Martha nodded sagely at the recounting of his difficulties during his schooling to become an instructor. "And how did you overcome all that? After all, many people believed that if you were blind, that there was no way you could teach other to dance when you couldn't see the dance yourself. How did you get from there, then, to being here, now?" Jeff nodded, and did his best to remain on topic this time around. "Well shortly after getting kicked out of my second, or was it my third dance school? Ah well, doesn't matter. I enrolled in a small dance class at one of those business that you see near shopping malls. The ones that have signs on the walls saying 'for under this amount of money, we'll teach you how to dance the tango through the power of such-and-such'. Now, while I never saw these places, someone in a particular dance business had heard about me from one of their students, and approached me while I was traveling on the bus one day. He asked why I wanted to dance, and I told him that I wanted to show how I felt about the world, without having to describe it in words." Jeff closed his eyes a moment, savoring the memory of that long-ago event. "You have to understand, I was still only 17 back then. I'd graduated from High School at age 16, and I'd always watched things like Riverdance and watched the Tango, and heard about the Salsa, and I always loved watching how the people dancing seemed so vibrant, so alive when they danced. It seemed like such an intense state of mind when the body marched to the beat of the heart, and I wanted to learn how to do that. So when I told the guy on the bus why I wanted to dance, he suggested that I enroll at this little-known dance place off of Garland Street and Greenswall Avenue." "Now of course I don't know where that was, and I told the guy,m so he said he'd lead me there when we reached the closest busstop. Now of course, I don't know this guy, I don't think he knows me, but then he took my arm gently, and I knew that he'd had experience with guiding the blind himself. I never felt rushed when he held onto me, and he never made me feel that I was slowing him down whenever I took a stumble." Marhta leaned forward a moment, "And who was this man who told you of this dance place?" Jeff smiled proudly, a pride that was echoed in his voice when he responded. "I didn't know who he was at the time, to me he was just a kindly older man. I say older because he sounded about 37, 37 years old to me. His name was Albertini Scorense." A few members of the studio audience murmured appreciatively when Jeff uttered the name. Jeff then turned to the crows with an incredulous expression. "I know right? Albertini Scorense, gray, balding man, who happens to be the United States Coach for the Olymics, right? I didn't know who he was back then! What planet was I on, right?" The audience laughed with Jeff at that self-fab. "But getting back to the topic, he taught me that it didn't matter what other people said a dance should look like, what it should feel like, how others should judge the dance, but that the dance should be what you want it to be. That you should dance to the beat of your own heart, not the beat of someone else's. He taught me how to listen to my own heart, and to never let anyone judge me by how I see the world." "As to your question about my medical condition, until recently scientists never knew why my eyes developed the way they did. They always said I had an astigmatism, but they could never find the reason for it. However, recent breakthroughs in medical technology have been able to see that my eyesight problem is genetic. I'm one of the few people that have fully functioning eyes, but my nerve endings in my eyes aren't properly formed, so the electrical impulses don't get to where they're supposed to go like they should. Maybe eventually stem cells can help repair my eyes, but for the most part, I'll be extremely short-sighted for the rest of my life, or until a medical breakthrough in medical technology will allow for the reconstruction of the nerve endings in my eyes." The interview went on for another 10 minutes, then a second guest was brought in, and by tradition Jeff moved over to the next seat to give the new guest the seat by the hostess, and then a third guest was interviewed and the two moved to let the new guest have the seat by the hostess. When Jeff got home that afternoon after the interview, he saw that his phone messages were overloaded again by fans and students calling to tell him that they'd seen him on the news, and congratulations, and his family congratulating him on a life well lived, and things of that nature. It was nearly 2 o'clock in the afternoon now, and he had a class at 5:30 in one of the dance clubs at a nearby campus that he now taught at in New York City. He wanted to sleep a few hours after the interview, but he knew that his body needed to get food, drink, and to exercise before his class. No doubt some of his students would be all nerdy and 'ohmygod, I totally saw you on TV today, you were awesome' and the like. That sort of thing didn't bother him much anymore. So with some stretching first, Jeff went to the fridge and pulled out some low-fat vanilla yogurt, some granola pieces, and a mixture of blueberries and raspberries, put them in a blender, and made his own granola smoothie, drank it, had a banana and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and proceeded to do some yoga stretches for about 45 minutes. Then, Jeff set his alarm to go off at 3:30 pm, got into bed for a nap, and woke up at around 3:00 pm on his own. He got dressed in red pants, a black shirt, and got his large duffel bag set up with a dance mat, two bottles of water with some Crystal Light packages, a few Healthy Valley granola bars, and some other workout things like towels and such, and was ready to head out by the time the alarm finally went off. Turning the alarm off as it sounded, Jeff opened the front door to his two story apartment, closed and locked it behind him, punching in the security code and putting his thumb on the pad. The door would only unlock itself if the person entering had the keys to the door, the code for the door, and had a thumbprint for one of three people. One was Jeff himself, another was his sister, and another was his lawyer, so only those people could get into the house without tripping the alarm. There were people who would steal anything if it got them money, and Jeff had learned the hard way to protect his home with a good security system. Hailing a cab and giving the driver directions to the college he worked at, Jeff laid his head against the headrest of his seat, and watched as the cars and people passed by outside. The ride to the campus was only about 15 minutes distant as the car could travel, but traffic was sometimes tricky around this stretch of streets, so Jeff always gave himself at least an hours headway when heading to work. As the cab finally pulled up to campus, Jeff gave the driver the fare, signed an autograph for the mans daughter, and made his way up to his classroom, at about the center of campus. He could take the elevator nearby to avoid the stairs, but Jeff preferred to get as much of a workout as he could, so he took the stairs everytime. It got his blood flowing too, which was good for a light, pre-workout before he got into class. Signing in at the office, Jeff looked at his class roster and saw only 10 to 15 names in his class, which was the right number for the campus. This campus was strictly tailored to different forms of dance, and was a fairly often forgotten school, saddled as it was between a major college, on one side and a warehouse on the other. The campus was linked to the next door college, but didn't go by the same name, since it belonged to a private company, not the school district that the college itself belonged to. Piddling time away doing extra workouts before heading to class, Jeff walked into his classroom was was glad to see that all of his students had showed up early to class, and most even had their exercise mats out already. He could tell that there were 9 girls and only 4 or 6 guys, but other than that he couldn't identify them yet. "All right class, my name of course is Jeff Palosi, and I will be your instructor for this class. Now I'm supposed to go over the silabus, but that's some major boring shit, so let me make it a little more fun by impersonating the dean a little." Getting into his bag and pulling out an wig that looked like Moe's hair from the three stooges, a pair of glasses with a large nose on it, Jeff put the items on and read the silabus in a deadpan voice. "This class is designed to teach you how to dance and to creative express oneself through the art of dance. This class will focus mainly on flexibility, exercise, and how to blahblahblag." The assembled students gave various expressions of mirth at the impression of the dean. "During this course there will be only two excused absences. Two tardy days will count as an absent day, and having missed five whole classes the student will be dropped. The drop date for this class is blahblahblahblah. I'm not paid to read this technical jargon, I'm paid to teach you to dance to the beat of your own drums, so lets just tear this up now, and lets get started! What do you say?" Jeff took off his costume wig and nose, tore up the silabus, and started looking at the students as they gave various kinds applause for his speal about the dean. "Now then, the first thing we're going to do is stretch, so I'll start with some yoga moves that'll help you all loosen up for the dance we'll be starting. This is a starting class, so we'll start with the two-step, but we've got to stretch. Now let's start with the 'Downward Doggy' move, anybody know what that yoga pose is? Well I'll show you, you start like this..." (Phew, how's this Pure? Do you like it?) |
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<a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/?action=view¤t=yaoi-5.gif" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/yaoi-5.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a> Coffee Shop. Doctors Degree. | |
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| purebloodymurder | Mar 21 2010, 12:22 PM Post #2 |
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☆★☆★
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[It's perfect!! *excited* I've missed RPing with you~] At the age of 10, Mitchell Abbot had first caught wind of his passion for music. Everything before had felt like noise. Just a common bit of chatter one would hear on the street or the jingles in commercials. Nothing ever affected him or made him tap his foot in time with the beat. In fact, Mitchell never had any rhythm. When he was younger and ever tried to dance along to a song, his family would always giggle behind their hands over how Mitchell had two left feet. He never understood that stupid saying until one of his classmates was kind enough to tell him the exact same thing during a practice rehearsal of a school play. Mitchell had always been the kid stuck in the back of the lines because he could never get the simple footwork down or get the hand signals down pat. But he kept trying anyway. He'd long since lived with humiliation from his older brothers [yes, he had three] so he'd long since grown up with the trait of being stubborn to a fault. But he could remember his inspiration so perfectly. His eldest brother had gotten word of some backstreet battle. Mitchell had thought it totally cheesy when he first heard about it. In fact, eh remembered perfectly making fun of how awesome his brothers thought it was until they decided to drag him along. Their father thought it was a genius idea. Mitchell had grown up in a pure male home. Their mother had passed shortly after giving birth to Mitchell but nobody blamed him for it. Apparently she'd been feeling weak even before she'd gotten pregnant with him and, as his father put it, gave her final breath of life to him. So ten years old, half the age of everyone else had been stuck standing in a back alley among a circle of kids his eldest brother's age. It freaked him out a bit how everyone stared at him but he got over that pretty quickly. They'd dragged him up to the front, much to his protest and it was there that Mitchell was introduced to his inspiration. He learned years later that they were simply freestyling but at the time, they seemed exactly. like him. No music. No beat to follow at first. They just started busting out their dancing on the concrete and from there the crowd would start making the beat as a couple had brought various instruments. Mitchell almost immediately was filled with the notes and he couldn't believe that it was the music playing to the dancer. And from there, he was hooked. Over the years, Mitchell practiced constantly within the confines of his room (as to not be witnessed by his brothers) and learned various dance moves and style from watching clips on the internet or videos or even seeing forms in magazines. His mind became completely absorbed into this world and soon, with time, he finally found his rhythm. He could pick any song and after listening to it once, he could manage to freestyle his way into it. He still wasn't all that good compared to so many people by the time he reached the age where some guy named Jeff Palosi started to make it big all over the news. He remembered that day too because his father had called him out to the living room and teased him mercilessly how a blind man could dance so gracefully and Mitchell couldn't. His father knew that he practiced (he'd caught him a couple times by not knocking) but he'd never actually seen him dance. And it was there that Mitchell had found his idol. He followed Jeff's progress as any loyal fan would do but there was a certain ... personal connection he felt toward the man who danced across his television screen. He'd managed to be able to dance while always living through a lack of vision ... and Mitchell had taught himself to dance through a complete lack of rhythm. He was still nowhere near as good at Jeff but he hoped he could be one day. It felt like years that Mitchell did his best to catch every news broadcast, interview and newspaper clipping about the man. Not obsessionally like most fans but just because every time he saw him, he was filled with this new found inspiration to practice more, harder and to try and "dance to the beat of your own heart" as he was always quoted so famously for saying. It was during his second year of college, having only just turned 20 a couple weeks earlier, that Mitchell learned that Jeff was coming to teach a lessen right beside his college. HIS COLLEGE. He couldn't believe it! Which was how he wound up here, staring at the man when he walked in through the door. He looked exactly as Mitchell had always seen him. He couldn't believe he was here. His stomach fluttered with nervous butterflies. Now that this dream was actually real, he was starting to get worried. Sure Jeff had been his main inspiration for dancing these past few years but ... oh god, what if he didn't like him? The class was small so he was bound to be noticed eventually. He looked around, however, and suddenly he was aware just how nervous and excited everyone else looked too. He wasn't the only one here having second doubts. He wasn't the only one here that was probably so excited their heart was pounding. He most definitely probably was the only one here who couldn't dance. They all had the figure of a dancer. The girls had strong legs, no ass and no boobs and his fellow men were thin but held a certain grace even by the way they stood. Looking down at himself, Mitchell suddenly felt self conscious. He must look so out of place .... these people probably had years of professional training. He'd had a couple hours after supper on a matted carpet that smelt of moth balls. Even the rather spot on impersonation of the dean didn't lift his spirits any. He kept plucking at his sweat pants nervously. Maybe if he just let his mind melt into the lesson, he wouldn't worry so much about who was teaching it or who his peers were. 'Dance to the beat of your own heart, remember?' He thought and took a deep breath. Then followed into the position as everyone else did. |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| Daisuke Travis | Mar 21 2010, 01:52 PM Post #3 |
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Nerd of all things sci-fi, including alien abductions!
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Jeff watched for only a moment as the students started in on the yoga position he'd suggested, himself stretching out his legs first. He'd mainly suggested the yoga pose because it looked like a few people were a little out of shape. What interested him was that while most of the students showed a fluency in dance, one of the students was clearly more of an amateur, and quite nervous about it as time passed during the stretches. Sure, most of the students took his class in order to complete the necessary PE requirements for graduation, but Jeff preferred students who actually had no skills in dancing to those who already knew how to dance. When the people looked finally relaxed enough, Jeff got out an old cassette tape and put it into a stereo system, and then looked back at the class. "Alright, now as I paid attention to how you all moved, I can see, even with my vision problems, that most of you already have some sort of experience in dance, be it ballet, folk dancing, or whatever. So while I said we'd start with the two-step, I'm gonna change things up a bit with some old-school music instead. Now this kinda music wasn't created specifically for a particular type of dance, so spread yourselves out from each other, and dance how you wish to when the music starts. I'll dance along with you, but don't follow my lead, just dance as you will. Leaning down to press the play button, Jeff shook out his hands a few times, and then the song started to play. Current song, Joe Public's Live and Learn. As the drums started beating, Jeff immediately started to move with the music, at first doing nothing more than doing a fast version of 'the robot'. When the vocals started in though, Jeff started to twist around, switching to a dance that was closer to break-dancing. As the music continued, Jeff let the music take hold of him, and he clearly was in another state of mind as his body moved with such fluidity and grace, switching quickly between dance techniques such as the robot, hip-hop, and even the moonwalk for a bit. As the music finally ended, Jeff stopped dancing, shaking himself off, hearing more than a few students whistling in appraisal at his own dancing. "Yeah, yeah. I know that looked good, and that's because I wasn't dancing to the music, nor to the singer. I let the music move through my dance, not the dance through the music. What you need to do is let the music fill you up inside, and let the music take hold of your body, let it move you how your body wants to move. Don't dance the tango to the music of the tango when your body wants to do 'High School Musical', because then you're fighting your bodies own rhythm. Your rhythm is something only your own body knows, not the music you listen to. When your body feels the music, your body will automatically react and move with the music. You can't consciously make your body move to the beat, you have to let go of all that, and let your body find your inner beat. Looking a moment through his small class, Jeff's eyes fell upon one particular student, the one who obviously hadn't learned to dance under any particular teacher, and waved him forward. "Young man, I can't see you that well from this distance, so could you come up here please? Now now, come on, don't be shy." When the student finally came forward, Jeff took a closer look at the student, getting to within a couple feet of him for only a second or two. "Sorry, I can only see someone clearly if they're with a couple feet of me. What's your name?" Jeff nodded at the response, then gestured to the class. "You see here a prime example of someone who's already well on their way to finding their own beat. I watched all of you as best I could while you danced, and a few of you clearly dance to the music, and don't really understand what I'm saying when I talk about your own drumbeats. I'm going to do a little demonstration for you, and maybe you all will see where I'm coming from. I'm going to set this stereo to randomly choose a song from the CD I have in it, and this man is going to dance to it." Jeff turned to the student. "Now don't get antsy, just pretend you're the only one in this classroom. We've not here to judge you, I just need to see how much you actually know about the drumbeat I talked about earlier. Ready?" Turning the stereo system to 'random' Jeff pressed play again, and the stereo system made it's standard whirring and clicking as it changed CD's to a randomly chosen track, and finally settled on one CD, and started playing the next track for the student that Jeff had called forward. Stevie Wonder's Superstitious. (In case I wasn't clear in my post Pure, Jeff called your guy to the front of the class to dance.) |
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<a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/?action=view¤t=yaoi-5.gif" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/yaoi-5.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a> Coffee Shop. Doctors Degree. | |
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| purebloodymurder | Mar 21 2010, 03:03 PM Post #4 |
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☆★☆★
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Stretching out his muscles has actually helped to calm his nerves a bit but he was pretty sure that that was only because he now had blood flowing to his limbs rather then all trying to accumulate in his chest to stop his heart. When Jeff spoke about dancing as a start, he was suddenly very glad that he had chosen the back. There was no way he'd be able to dance in front of all these seasoned people and he very much doubted he could dance in front of Jeff just yet. He had to find his courage; his beat. So he tried his best to heed the man's words and not watch him while he dance (live performance for free?) and actually had to force himself to close his eyes. He was paranoid that if he looked at the other dancers, he might clamp up and then he'd never get into it. He'd never danced in front of anyone before so he would need some time to get used to even dancing beside somebody. He took another deep breath and let it out slowly even as the music started up. He listened to the music for a short while, eyes still closed but he could feel the movement in the room despite that. It took everything he had to not open his eyes and let his worry get the better of him. Eventually, he let the music fill his ears and his body started to move on his own. A little jerky at first until he got comfortable with it. Then he found himself grooving in his little corner. Hips shaking, feet tapping and arms popping and locking to the beat of the bass. He'd always loved dancing to the bass. There was just something attractive about the deep, low sound. But there were some sad lyrics to the song that Mitchell soon found he just couldn't dance as quickly to. So his movements slowed and his pop and lock turned into easy motions and even his steps became much slower then the tempo of everything but the bass. The bass was his life line. And it seemed like it was cut short as the music faded out. When he opened his eyes and saw a couple students clapping, he noticed that he felt even better. His breathing had calmed and he was jittering as much. Maybe cause he'd closed his eyes. That probably did the trick. He'd have to remember that. He'd never been very good at blocking anything out. He was rather disappointed that he'd missed the dance (which HAD to have been amazing) but he figured this would be better. He'd be able to learn easier if he kept himself calm. Mitchell found himself chuckling at the mention of dancing 'high school musical' to the tango and he could picture it in his head and found it a rather hysterical sight. And that picture was replaced with Jeff doing that and it just suddenly became one of the funniest things he'd thought of in ages. But that joke totally died when Jeff waves him forward. He did the stupid point at self and look around the class before nervously shuffling forward. He didn't exactly want to tell his idol he couldn't dance in front of people. How pathetic would that sound? But with each step that he took forward, those previous jitters were coming back. Don't be shy? How could he not be? Both critical eyes of peers and of his idol? Was it possible to simply melt into the floor? Never in a million years would he have expected to be pointed out. He was just an amateur, nothing special. Not like these people now staring at him with rather open mouthed envy ... or maybe jealousy. He was famous after all. When Jeff moved forward, Mitchell didn't know what to do so he simply stood there and probably looked more like a deer caught in the headlights then anything else. Holy crap. He felt his face heat up. He had totally been close enough to reach out and touch. Mitchell could have died happy, right there. He felt his insides tingle with delight and he almost caught the request for his name. "A-Abbot, sir. Mitchell Abbot." He was so used to introducing himself by his last name in his class that it just came out naturally. My god, he even sounded like an amateur! He took another one of those deep, soothing breaths in an attempt to calm himself back down but he felt his face heat up a bit more at the compliment. Really? But ... but he hadn't even danced that long and these people were way more skilled then him and- WAIT! Did he just say he was supposed to dance? In front of the class? In front of him? He turned to Jeff and opened his mouth to give a protest but almost immediately shut it when Jeff told him to not be so antsy. How was he supposed to relax? Now his idol had expectations of him. He couldn't do this, he couldn't do this, he couldn't- "Come on, Abbot! If you shake like a leaf anymore, you'll fall on your ass." One of the students called and Mitchell looked up to find the source of the voice. One of the girls was giving him a thumbs up of encouragement. The guy standing beside her mouthed, 'Good luck'. Glancing across the room, they all looked .. genuinely interested. They looked ready to learn. Only a couple of them looked critical but hey, if the majority of the class was trying to lift him up, that should be enough, right? You can't please everybody. He took another deep breath as he looked over to see what Jeff was doing, an awkward smile on his lips. Okay so his nerves hadn't really calmed but he didn't feel as pessimistic. Jeff clearly saw something good and Mitchell would just have to play to that again. The music started and Mitchell let out a laugh. Ahh, good ol' Stevie Wonder. His father used to listen to him. He knew the song right away from the first couple notes. Good. He always preferred it when he already knew the song. He had less of chance of getting caught up in it. But still as the beginning notes played out, he let his eyes slid closed, let the music fill his ears and snapped his fingers to the beat. He let his shoulders flow to the jazzy sound before soon he found that little spark and his hips followed. He wasn't exactly in time with the music but he doubted that mattered much. It was clear in the way he moved that he had much practice to do but he seemed to have the hang of it. Out of old habit, he mumbled 'ba da ba ba's to the music under his breath as he lifted his feet and allowed himself to do a couple half turns. The more he danced, the looser he got and the more he became less afraid to take that extra step, to swing his arms a little higher and to allow his feet to glide a little more smoothly. As the song rounded to a close, he timed it, did a full turn and took a bow to the class. It was within that bow that he opened his eyes. And he'd bowed in the opposite direction. He'd totally thought this had been the front. Had he been dancing backward the entire time?! The class was howling in laughter but when he turned around to see them smiling and clapping softly, he knew that they weren't laughing at him. He smiled sheepishly and felt a bit of heat rise into his neck. Way to make a first impression. Something told him he would never live that one down. Unsure, he glanced to the side, wishing to see the reaction from the teacher. His teacher. Dear god, he still couldn't swallow the idea. "I-I still need a lot of practice .... sorry ....." |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| Daisuke Travis | Mar 21 2010, 03:43 PM Post #5 |
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Nerd of all things sci-fi, including alien abductions!
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Jeff watched with interest as the student nervously came up to the front of the class, earning him more than a few words of encouragement and quite a few cheers to get him going. The kid clearly wasn't sure of himself, but Jeff could feel somehow that the kid had a ton of latent talent, just waiting to be tapped into. The kid probably didn't think that he was all that good, just like Jeff had thought about himself when he'd first tried his hand at dancing. It took the right teacher and teaching style to bring out that kind of potential, and keeping the students confidence in him or herself high at the same time, and Jeff could only hope that he could be such a teacher. Many students said he was that kind of teacher, but Jeff was never so sure of that himself, and always strove to do better. Smiling and nodding to the student, Jeff made it a point to call his student by name. "Well class, Mitchell Abbot here is going to be a star someday, I can feel it. So ya'll give him your undivided attention, and don't do anything to distract him until after he's finished dancing, when you're ready Mitchell!" Stepping back as the song started, Jeff watched as Mitchell took a few seconds to compose himself, then started to dance, slowly at first. But through his blurry vision, Jeff could tell when the music started to penetrate deep down into his soul as it were, and how the music brought out the inner energy the man had. Not too bad at all, with a little time, effort, and training, this kid could easily make it into my next tour within a few weeks at most. Course, he'd have to want to go, but he would do in a pinch easily. The student, Mitchell, clearly still needed some work around the edges, as he started mumbling underneath his breath as he danced, something Jeff had learned long since to get past. Such utterances were generally a way to encourage oneself, but Jeff had learned other wars of self motivation. The one he used nowadays was to visualize the one person who he hoped most to make proud, and imagine that person watching on as he danced. The class certainly loved it as Mitchell finished his dance, clapping, whistling, and generally hooting and hollering at the mans performance. Mitchell clearly wasn't used to be the center of attention, but Jeff was already making mental notes that the kid might do better in solo acts rather than always working in groups. The kid clearly was an attention grabber, so all he needed was more confidence in himself, and he'd be an awesome performer in no time. Jeff himself was one of the people clapping and whistling as Jeff finished, his smile beaming with pride as Mitchell turned to see his teachers reaction. Clapping Mitchell on the back proudly as the student was given a ton of praise from his students, Jeff gestured for Mitchell to return to the rest of the class. "You can sit in the back where you were, but you can sit up here in front if you'd like as well. I can't really see that far, so if you want to avoid my attention, it'd actually be better for you in front, since I won't be trying to see you if you're here in front. I tend to look at the people in the back precisely because they aren't looking for attention. You did well Mitchell, you did very well. Lets have another round of applause for MItchell!" The other students obligingly gave Mitchell another round of hooting and hollering, and then Jeff whistled loudly to get their attention back to him. "Now that you've seen what I'm trying to teach you, let me change the music to something a little more... fun. I'll just put in the Beastie Boys here..." The other students immediately gave 'oohs' of approval, the Beastie Boys being one of the more popular bands in rap, and other veins of music. "Now just dance how you like, but keep yourselves spread as before, since I'm sure that some of us are going to break dance, or at least I know I will." Third Song, Fight for your right. Pressing the play button, the song 'Fight for your right' immediately came thumping through the speakers, and almost as quickly Jeff started to break dance, splitting between break dancing, street dancing, and of course the robot, which he seemed to favor. The other students did their own forms of dance, even the ballet dancer managed to dance ballet to the beat of the Beastie Boys. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As the class came to an end, Jeff congratulated all his students as they left the class one by one, shaking hands with each student before they left the door. He waited for Mitchell to wander up before motioning for him to remain behind with him for a few minutes more before leaving. "So I noticed how well you danced. You've got a lot of room for improvement of course, but I can see you've got the groundwork already set in place to be a fantastic dancer, whether in a group or even in a solo act. Have you ever heard or watched the Broadway performance 'Street Launch'?" Coming as it came from Jeff Palosi, the director, it was kind of a trick question to see just how much Mitchell knew about him. Jeff had noted how the kid seemed to use some of his own dance techniques to get himself started, so the kid obviously knew about Jeff's career and the kinds of performances Jeff had made. It was also a question to see what Mitchell's reaction would be, since a part of his question had alluded to 'working in groups or solo', a subtle question about whether Mitchell would ever be interested in touring with Jeff around the country to showcase his dancing abilities. Such an offer wasn't made often, and was only given to someone with true talent, but would Mitchell see his own talent as being as great as Jeff himself saw it? |
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<a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/?action=view¤t=yaoi-5.gif" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/yaoi-5.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a> Coffee Shop. Doctors Degree. | |
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| purebloodymurder | Mar 21 2010, 04:37 PM Post #6 |
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☆★☆★
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(I totally forgot to describe him D| /fails I'll do so slowly, sorry!!) He was pretty sure he stopped breathing when Jeff clapped him on the back. All the praise that followed after ... Mitchell quite literally had to reach over and pinch himself lightly on the arm. Nope. Not a dream. Maybe a second pinch. Nope, nope, still reality. And that one hurt like hell. He couldn't dare look up at him though the smile that stretched giddily across his lips was enough evidence needed to show that he truly appreciated every word. It may have also been an effect that nobody ever really encouraged his dancing. He'd always done his best to hide the idea all through his school life and it was practically under criminal security when he went home. If his brothers ever found out he was taking this class .... oh dear lord ... and he thought he'd never live the backward bow down. "Thank you, sir." Mitchell beamed but again couldn't really look up at him but he did a quick glance before retreating back to his corner. Old habit. He kind of half believed that Jeff only looked at the back. Something told him, however, that next class, people would be racing to take the back spots and he'd get stuck up in front. No barrier between him and his idol. Ugh, that'd be no good for his nerves. The next dance Mitchel couldn't fully get into because he was still light headed from all the praise. He knew he shouldn't be letting it get to him so heavily but- but it was Jeff Palosi! The rest of the class was fun though and since he wasn't exactly getting really into it was just kind of grooving slowly in his little spot, he took that opportunity to watch everyone else. Wow. They were damn good. A lot more graceful then he'd been. He'd definitely have to work just as hard. Class came to a close and Mitchell fully prepared himself to leave first but then he was motioned to stay back. Oh god, had he done something wrong? Was it cause he hadn't been dancing as good? First line. Was that sarcasm? No, no it wasn't. He was definitely well versed in sarcasm and that seemed genuine. A little too genuine. It was weird. Potential? Well that was good. Mitchell could definitely live the rest of his life on Cloud 9 knowing Jeff thought he had good potential. "Ha, I wish." Mitchell replied finally. He shifted his bag nervously on his shoulder. "Small town kid. Didn't exactly get out much." He smiled slightly. "Plus, I've got brothers ... if you catch my drift." He rather hoped he would. Mitchell didn't want to have to explain that he was too much of a pansy to bring something like seeing a Broadway show up and have his brother's harass him about it. They were a very open family; hardly any secrets. It would have gotten out eventually. "The extent I got to see of it was the bit they had on the news and from one of the city papers. It made the front page of the Entertainment section." He grinned with the knowledge. How he wish he could have seen it though ... He replayed what the man had said back in his mind to make sure he hadn't missed a question before his grin faltered a bit. "Wait, wait, solo? I-I couldn't possibly do solo. I don't have near enough confidence for something like that. Though I appreciate the thought. Really, I do. That's more then enough." He took anymore words he could think to be compliments, he was afraid he might be too weak kneed to walk down the stairs. His face was already heating up. Man, he had never felt this nervous before in his life. Ohh, manners, manners! Pushing a bit of his just-a-bit-too-long dark brown hair behind his ear, he spoke up. "Ahh but I just wanted to thank you for coming here. To teach here. It's a real honor to finally be taught. By someone as .. inspirational as yourself, that is." That didn't sound too cheesy, right? Ahh, he'd probably heard all the lines anyway. There was no way Mitchell would be able to come up with some original for praise. |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| Daisuke Travis | Mar 21 2010, 06:27 PM Post #7 |
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Nerd of all things sci-fi, including alien abductions!
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Jeff drank slowly from a bottle of water as he listened to Jeff's responses to his words, getting a strange sort of delight at seeing Mitchell splutter a bit with his words when addressed about performing. "Really? Well that's a shame, the offers still there though, if you ever change your mind. If you're worried about brothers though..." Jeff leaned close to Mitchell, smiling ruefully and whispered, "Try having 5 sisters teasing you about much the same thing, saying that you could dance extremely well, yet somehow managed to step on every toe in the household without ever meaning to. That was me all throughout my childhood. I was a good dancer, but a clumsy walker. I still haven't been able to get past that whenever my sisters call me up." Leaning back and patting Mitchel's back one more time before heading out, Jeff looked over his shoulder when Mitchell said that it was an honor to learn from Jeff. "Hey, no problem kid. You just work on that post of yours a bit more. Part of your confidence issues comes from your attitude. If you think that it's embarrassing to dance in front of other people, you'll never learn to be as great a dancer as you could be. Just keep that in mind, and keep practicing whenever you can. I'll be here for about two months, and as you know, my classes are Tuesday and Thursday from 12 pm to 4, and Saturday from 9 am to 6 pm. If you ever want help, you can find me either here on campus at this room, or you can contact the Student Help Office, and ask for me, and someone will tell you whether or not I'm available for some one-on-one tutoring. Be chill!" Just in case a student called him wanting one-on-one tutoring with him when he wasn't in school, Jeff had left his home phone number with the Student Help Office, in case a student needed, or wanted help, and needed more practice outside of school. This way, Jeff Palosi could arrange to meet said student or students either at their place, at a park somewhere, or even at his own place, should that be suitable for whatever practice was needed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Giving Mitchell a peace sign, Jeff made his way back to his office, waving at a few other students as they waved at him as they went to other classes. The previous class had just ended at 1:30, so his next class wouldn't be until 2:30, giving him an hour to rest, write up some more paperwork, go through his phone messages, and the like. When the day finally came to an end, and his last class was over, Jeff went back to his home, unlocked the front door and then locked it behind him, and then proceeded to get ready for a shower. Not bad for his first day of teaching at the new campus, and it had turned out to be a fabulous day. Not only had he had a ton of fun, but he'd even found another person with plenty of raw talent just waiting to be brought into fruition. It always made him feel wonderful when he found another person with the talent for dancing to the heart, even if the person wasn't yet confident in him or herself yet. Still, it had turned out to be a very productive first day. Stretching himself out a little more, Jeff goes to the hot water heater, turns it on, and waits for the water to heat up before heading to the shower. That gave him roughly 10 to 15 minutes before the hot-water heater turned itself back off, and Jeff used that time to get his towel, shampoo and conditioner, scrunchie, and have that setup in the bathroom. In the end, he still had about 7 minutes before the water was finished being heated, so Jeff stripped down, and did some more stretches within the comfort of his own home. Jeff always kept himself in very good shape, as one never knew when you'd be called upon to demonstrate in front of a famous monument, be called upon as a racer in some health centered event like breast cancer. His pectoral muscles were toned and firm from constant upper body exercises, his chest and abs were completely clean of hair, which was natural, not due to surgery. His legs were mostly hairless, though a few stray strands grew on his legs, though most of the hair on his legs were necessarily short, due to him wearing running outfits and jeans for the most part. His legs were also very muscular, the kind that most men would die to have for themselves, and show off to girls on the beach. The greatest exertion of his muscles only slightly stressed his muscles, and his thigh and calf muscles were similarly muscled, himself the prime example of fitness. Of course, being a Dance Instructor for a traveling dance theater meant that he had to keep himself in shape, and Jeff certainly wasn't a slouch when it came to working out. He took his physical health very seriously. Finally, the water heater turned off, and Jeff stepped into the shower, turning it to just below scalding and hissed in relief as his tired muscles relaxed under the torrent of the hot water as it poured over his muscled physique. Quickly scrubbing himself down with his soapy scrunchie, Jeff rinsed himself off quickly, then proceeded to use the shampoo and and conditioner, and cleaned his hair. After a bit, Jeff finished showering, and opened the curtain to the shower and stepped onto the floor mat, and used one towel to dry himself completely, then wrapped a second towel around his waste and walked into the living room and checked his messages again. Quite a few messages showed up after he'd taken his shower, but only one of them was currently blinking, meaning that it was someone currently calling in. Making sure that his hands were dry, Jeff picked up the phone and said, "Hello, this is Jeff Palosi, how may I help you?" (All right Pure, I've left this last part open to you to respond to. You can be Mitchell calling Jeff to get more help with dancing, you can be another faculty member who's calling to see about how Jeff is adjusting to the new school and classes, or you can be someone else entirely calling Jeff.) |
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<a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/?action=view¤t=yaoi-5.gif" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/yaoi-5.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a> Coffee Shop. Doctors Degree. | |
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| purebloodymurder | Mar 21 2010, 06:58 PM Post #8 |
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☆★☆★
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He didn't think he'd get used to the whole leaning in thing. Of course he knew it was only because the other couldn't really see him but every time the man leaned a little closer, Mitchel went cold. Like his blood had been drained. It was a lot more unnerving then he'd expected. Guess because Mitchell had spent so long putting him up on a pedestal, he was having a hard time thinking that he might have just as much of a normal personality as everyone else. 'My attitude?' He wondered as the other spoke. Well he supposed he did have a rather pessimistic and quiet outlook toward his dancing. He just wasn't used to being put on the spot like he'd been earlier. He was the kid who always got put in the back row. That was his place. That's what he knew. Only two months? That felt so short though .... "Of course, sir! And you can definitely expect me to never miss a class." Did that sound obsessive or dedicated? "I'll make sure to practice!" Oh dear god, he couldn't imagine himself actually going to ask Jeff for help. How would that even go about? Even as he let the idea sink in, he couldn't imagine it. Besides, that was probably just a courtesy thing, right? He would probably be too busy to actually offer any more assistance. Besides, with how popular he was, he could guess the more confident students would probably be all over him for help. And he was back in his back row. Mitchell wasn't sure how much longer he'd stayed standing in that room before he finally realized what time it was. He was late for his next lesson and remained in a sort of dreamy haze for the rest of the day. By the time he'd gotten to his bus stop to make it back to his apartment, it had already left. But, hey, practicing also meant strengthening his body right? So he decided to just jog home. It took a lot longer and by the time he got home, it was dark. He climbs those stairs and got into his apartment. Locking the door behind himself, he threw his bag next to his shoes, stripped off his shirt and made his way into the bathroom. He lived alone in this bachelor apartment but he was fine by that. His father agreed years ago that if he could pay his own way into college, he would pay for his housing for however long it took to get his degree. So Mitchell never had to worry about anything other then food and even then he had the campus cafeteria card so he just used that. The cupboards here remained forever empty. Once in the bathroom, he took a moment to observe his reflection in the full length mirror on the opposing wall. Hair was a bit matted with sweat but that was to be expected. Murky blue eyes stared back at himself before they fell over the rest of his body. Compared to the dancers he'd seen today, the only thing he really had in common with their form was that he was skinny. Tanned but skinny. Lifting up his pant legs, he noted the lack of muscles compared to the other guys and when he turned to the side, he also noted the lack of muscles by his shoulders. He certainly didn't look like he had any potential. Running a hand over his jaw, he took a moment to try and figure out how Jeff possibly saw hidden talent in him before he gave up. Maybe he just meant that he needed to be taught. It had probably been really obvious to such a star his lack of a real teacher. A quick shower later and he found himself nestled into his couch, phone in hand. He'd gotten the number from the Help Office along with the words that they weren't sure if Jeff was settled enough yet to start giving personal lessons. Helpful. Now he was currently staring at the number written on the palm of his hand, the cord of his phone nestled nervously between his teeth and he lightly gnawed on it. He wondered if he would actually be available for personal lessons. After all, he had to be in high demand, right? There was no way Mitchell was the only one who thought him a star. He'd probably be swamped with requests by now. After all, one only had to look at him to tell how amazing he was. He had the perfect dancer's body. Mitchel burned with envy. Nnn .... but Jeff has said that his confidence had to do with his attitude. So maybe he should stop being so pessimistic and just call him. What was the worst that could happen? He could say no. Ahh, he probably wouldn't be home anyway. He was probably out having dinner with somebody important or something anyway so it was probably safe enough. So before he could stop himself, he punched in the numbers, hit talk and pressed the phone to his ear. He had fully expected no one to answer. "Uhh, Jeff?" Smooth. "It's Mitchell Abbot calling ... from your class earlier ..." Crap. He hadn't prepared himself to actually talk to him; what was he supposed to say? "How are you?" Ahh geez. it wasn't like he could play this off either. The man had said if he needed help, to give him a call. But was Mitchell ready to give into the idea of needing help yet? He should have waited before calling. |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| Daisuke Travis | Mar 21 2010, 08:31 PM Post #9 |
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Nerd of all things sci-fi, including alien abductions!
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Jeff tied a small knot into his towel while he picked up the phone receiver, and to his slight surprise and delight, it was one of his more noticeable students. The voice sounded familiar, who was it now... "You're... Mitchell Abbot, correct? My eyesight may be bad, but my hearing and memory are excellent, and your voice sounds like Mitchell's. What's up? Need my help with dancing tips and advice? Or are you wanting an autograph of something?" Jeff couldn't help but laugh, "Don't worry about it kid, I was joking about the autograph. I could tell in class that you're not the rabid fan-type that clamors all over their idol and is prone to stalking. I get that a lot from my fans and even some students, but I already know you're not that kinda guy." Making sure that his wireless phone had plenty of power, Jeff made his way to the bedroom, where he proceeded to put on some blue sweats along with a light gray t-shirt. Jeff wanted to be dressed for outside in case he needed to head over to Mitchell's house to help him, or in case Mitchell wanted to practice at his place. "Well, if you'd like, I can certainly come over to your place to help you out, or you could come over to my place, either way is fine with me. No, don't worry, I'm not actually that busy. I'm only going to be teaching here for a couple months, but outside of that, my last production is already over, so I have until late next year to work on another performance, so I've got close to a year and a half before I have to start working on another performance. I have plenty of time to help you. Do you want help now, or would you prefer to wait for tomorrow? I don't have to teach tomorrow, so I'd have the whole day to help you then as well if you like. My schedule is very flexible, so I'm more than willing to help you out whenever your schedule is open and you want my help." Finally getting his socks on, Jeff starts to put his shoes on, then decides to wait until he knows whether or not he'll be heading out anyway. "Mm? Oh right, well most people assume that since I'm a national celebrity or whatever, that I must be extremely busy 24/7. That's not actually the case, because outside of producing shows I don't have any other sources of income, so I spend all my time outside of a performance just relaxing, working out, and teaching others how to dance and having fun. The only reason why I'm accepting a paycheck from your school is because that's the only way they'll let me teach is if I'm paid to do so. I earn more than enough money from the tours I go out on that I don't need to earn money as a teacher." "No, no really, I'm not busy at all. In fact, if you'd like I can head over to your place, where ever that is, and help you out right now if you'd like. I have my own car so I could easily head out without too much trouble. I took a cab to the campus today mainly because it was rush hour by the time I was going to leave, so it was easier to take a cab, since most people tend to let cab drivers through traffic more easily. If you want me to come to you that's fine, or you prefer, I can teach your over here. Either way is fine by me." |
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<a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/?action=view¤t=yaoi-5.gif" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/yaoi-5.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a> Coffee Shop. Doctors Degree. | |
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| purebloodymurder | Mar 21 2010, 09:02 PM Post #10 |
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☆★☆★
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At the joke about the autograph, Mitchel went to stutter out that that was not why he was calling but it seemed like Mitchell forgot what humor was when talking to Jeff and the man was already off rambling about how he was kidding. His stomach fluttered a bit at being acknowledged as not stalker material because as much as he admired the man on the other end of the phone, he was still rather paranoid of coming off as obsessive or creepy. That was the absolute last thing he wanted. At the continued rambles of how people thought him busy but he really wasn't, Mitchell's stomach dropped. He laughed offhandedly and put his head in his hand, feeling the familiar hot streak of humiliation shoot up his neck. Well what else was he supposed to think? It wasn't like he'd ever known his schedule or something. The mention of just wanting to teach kids to dance was a bit of a relief. That answered his unthought of question about if private lessons would cost more money. He so didn't have the extra cash. But the shock of Jeff having free time right at the moment caused him to curl up, thighs pressed to his chest in an attempt to keep himself calm. Oh my god, what should he say? Good lord, he couldn't say no and just hang up (which is so what he wanted to do right now) but if he agreed to the idea then .... how were his nerves going to be? He was going to develop an ego about the man at this rate. "U-Um ... this is a lot more sudden then I was expecting." He replied honestly and took a familiar deep breath. Was he going to wind up doing those whenever he was around the man? He usually only did them during final exams or really stressful situations. But his voice alone was unsettling enough. He felt so over dramatic. "Well, I'm not ... really doing anything right now." He didn't want to make it sound like he'd cleared his schedule or anything. He didn't want Jeff to think he was some kind of loser. "Oh and coming here would be completely unnecessary." He spoke, standing up and looking around his apartment. It was so plain, so empty. There would be no way this would give a good impression. He looked like the classic broke college kid. "And I wouldn't want to intrude on your home or anything .. umm ..." He wracked his mind for possible locations, running a hand through brown locks. Wait a minute, he had a car? Surely he couldn't drive it with his eyesight. He adored the man but who the hell gives a near blind man a license? Ohh, he was being stupid, the man probably had a driver or something. Duh. "On second thought, I don't really think anywhere around would have that good of lighting ... or privacy." That didn't sound weird, right? He just wasn't ready to dance in front of people right now, even strangers that may be lingering in the park. He must sound like such an indecisive little brat. Why was he so nice? It would be been a lot easier to think if he was a little more bossy or forceful. But no, he was leaving it all up to Mitchell, which he wasn't used to all. Confidence, confidence ... "I guess you could just come over here." He pinched the brim of his nose. What was he thinking? Before he could stop himself, he rambled out his address, having nervously screwed it up before he made a quick means of thanking the other for his time and hanging up. Putting the phone back on the receiver, he placed his hands on the back of his couch and gasped for air. "Oh my god, what did I just do?!" |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| Daisuke Travis | Mar 21 2010, 10:39 PM Post #11 |
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Nerd of all things sci-fi, including alien abductions!
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Jeff chuckled at hearing Mitchell splutter on the other end of the phone line, unable to help himself. This was just too funny not to laugh a little! "Well don't worry about it Mitchell, a lot of people give me this kind of surprised reaction when I agree to help them out. After all, I am Jeff Palosi, who would have thought I had any free time? But as I like to say, if you don't have the time, then you make the time. I've got to get some things set up before I head out, so with the address you've given me, hang on a second and let me google it..." A tapping a keyboard keys was heard as Jeff turned his computer on momentarily, finding out a good path from his place to the address Mitchell gave him. "Yep, looks good, I'll be heading out just as soon as I get some of my stuff ready to leave. I should be there in about an hour at most, more like 30 minutes, kay? See you when I get there, bye." A half hour was actually pretty generous, considering that he was actually only 7 minutes of driving distance away from Mitchell's place, but while Jeff wasn't worry about getting a bad impression from seeing whatever shape that Mitchell's room was in, he still wanted to give Mitchell some time to clean up if he desired. True to his word, Jeff packed a couple yoga mats into his duffel bag, a couple more bottles of water, and a few other necessary items, and started shutting down his place for the time being. Heading into the garage, Jeff beeped the car alarm, thankful that the handicapped parking was right next to the stairwell that he used, and watched the brief flash of light indicating which car was his. Smiling, Jeff tossed his bag into one of the windows as it opened up, then made his way to the passenger front side door and sat down in it. A computerized version of the Final Fantasy victory theme sounded, bringing a brief chuckle to his lips, then the driver spoke up. "Where are we headed today Jeff?" Jeff nodded at the female driver, a very close friend of his sisters, though not in any way interested in her, nor was she interested in him. She was one of the drivers for the blind and otherwise unfit for driving, and she regularly gave Jeff a ride when he couldn't bicycle somewhere himself. "I'm heading to a student who wants some one-on-one time with me." Jeff specifically phrased it that way so that the woman could take advantage of the phrasing, and without missing a beat she responded with, "What, you mean you're finally going out on a hot date? Hallelujah and God be praised, your sister would be overjoyed!" Jeff laughed with the driver, then gave her the directions to the student's home, and she obligingly pulled out of the car garage, watching carefully to make sure nobody tried to speed past the garage opening when she tried to pull out. Otherwise, the trip to Mitchell's place was quite uneventful, and quite nice as the woman told Jeff all she heard about his only older sister that he himself might not yet know. "So she's getting married now, you remember Derrick right?" Jeff mimicked a horrified expression. "That egotistical prick? How'd he ever manage to do what without earning my punch to his face? She knows how much I hate that guy!" The two laughed at that, obviously quite comfortable with each other to tease and taunt each other. However, the ride had to end sometime, and about 32 minutes after the phone call ended, Jeff found himself being dropped off at Mitchell's place. "Thanks for the ride Trisha, you take care of yourself, and make sure my sister punches her new husband-to-be if he gives her any flack over my pancake recipe, you hear?" Trisha laughed and waved good-bye to Jeff, who then turned around and walked up to the front door to Jeff's address. Politely knocking on the door, Jeff heard a momentary clatter as if something had been dropped suddenly, momentarily worried that his presence had caused a minor panic for the young student. "It's only me Mitchell, not the President of the United States. You don't have to roll out the red carpet or anything, just make sure I don't get swamped by girls wanting me to sign their t-shirts." |
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<a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/?action=view¤t=yaoi-5.gif" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/yaoi-5.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a> Coffee Shop. Doctors Degree. | |
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| purebloodymurder | Mar 21 2010, 11:21 PM Post #12 |
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☆★☆★
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And what was Mitchell's grand master plan for spicing up his apartment? Bring every from in his room, out of his room. Besides, it wasn't like either of them would go into there anyway and if Jeff asked for a tour (which he likely wouldn't anyway, all apartments looked the same), he'd just say it was too messy to see. Which would be quite the opposite. Besides, it was a simple kitchen and living room combined in one with a small hall for the entrance and on the opposite end a small hall to lead to the little bathroom and his bedroom. Not much to see anyway. He pulled his bookshelf out into the hall and placed it along the walls. He took his blankets off his bed and draped them over the lonely little love seat he owned. For the kitchen, he brought out whatever trinkets or stuff that could pass as trinkets to place of the counters so that he didn't look like he never used the kitchen (which he only used the fridge). He pulled his little bedside carpet out to before the door so the entrance wouldn't look so plain and he took some of his clothes out of his closet and put them in the no door closet that resides right in front of the door. He brought his laptop into the living room, resting it on the couch and then, for a final touch, carefully placed his various books and papers along the kitchen counters, open and looking like he'd left it there in a hurry. He was fumbling with the last book when the knock came and he dropped it on his foot. He basically threw the book onto the counter before giving his apartment a quick glance over. Jeff may not have had the best sight but he could still see colour, couldn't he? At least it didn't look so empty anymore. Wandered over to the door, his hand was on the lock before he took a deep breath and opened it. "Girls? Here? You're pretty funny, sir." Wow, pathetic much? His nervous smile faltered a bit. "Come in. I just have to move the couch to make some room." Not that the place didn't already have enough space but he didn't want Jeff to think he'd been doing anything silly while waiting for him. He'd seem like such a fool having done something like this. He just wanted to make some sort of good impression. Like he was worth the time. He pushed the door open wide and got out of the man's way and wandered into his living room. Jeff Palosi .. in his apartment? Ahh, if only he had a camera. His family would never believe him. No, no, can't be thinking like that. He was here to help make Mitchell a better dancer and this was an opportunity of a lifetime. He wasn't going to screw this up just because he was practically having a panic attack with his idol complex. He picked up the love seat and moved each end with ease until it was resting against the wall. Looking it over, he figured that'd be enough room for the two of them. He doubted they'd be doing anything like spins or anything advanced. Gotta start small, right? "I hope you found the place alright. Thanks for, uh, coming over. It's-" an honor? Didn't I say that already? "-great to have you here." He smiled and he still felt nervous but he didn't look as much so. After all, this was a place that he knew, that he familiar with. This place had a floor that had long since seen Mitchell dance across it. This was home. "So ... what are we doing first?" |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| Daisuke Travis | Mar 21 2010, 11:38 PM Post #13 |
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Nerd of all things sci-fi, including alien abductions!
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Jeff couldn't help but laugh at Mitchell's antics about cleaning up. "You're reminding me of my youngest sister right about now. Except where when my family tries to clean up the house to look good for guests, she likes to make the house look messy, which she knows is what a home is supposed to look like, messy." Jeff saw a momentarily nervous or embarrassed expression cross Mitchell's face, but not knowing that what Jeff had described his sister doing was exactly what Mitchell had done, Jeff put it down to Mitchell still going through the 'oh my god, Jeff Palosi is in my apartment!' phase of a panic attack. Which Mitchell was going through, but that wasn't the source of Mitchell's embarrassment, though Jeff didn't know that. "Well, the place looks reasonably clear, let me just move a couple things though, I can't see too far away, and the only time I kick anything in my apartment is when someone moves something. Is that a table on the floor, a rug, or a crocodile? I can't tell at this distance what that brown thing is in the middle of the living room." Jeff looked around at Mitchell's place, what little of it he could determine at this distance with such blurry vision. "What are we doing? That's an excellent question, I have absolutely no clue what we're doing. I came over here to help you practice, but I don't know what sort of help you'd need aside from a confidence boost. Do you ever get cramps after dancing? Here, drink some water though, dancing is fun, but it dehydrates you quickly too." Jeff handed Mitchell a bottle of water, and watched the man go about doing whatever he was doing. When Mitchell seemed to sit down, Jeff just stood there, unsure what he was looking at. "Umm, I can't tell where to sit. Remember, I can see relatively clearly only within a couple feet from my face. Even sitting down within five feet of me I can't see you too clearly. Can you help me sit down? I'd rather sit down on a chair than on some random sharp object." Jeff extend a hand so that Mitchell could help him sit. "Don't worry Mitchell, I'm used to people not knowing how to help me at first. All you have to do is carefully pull my hand in the right direction, and I'll move with you. Just make sure there's nothing between my feet and the seat, otherwise I'll step on it and likely trip. That's it, just slowly guide my hand to the seat I'm going to use..." (I'm kinda hoping for a slight stumble, though I'm also thinking than an embarrassing stumble would be too soon at this point. I'm sure that Mitchell could manage to make Jeff stumble into him accidentally, I'm just sure that should happen so early on in this topic. What do you think Pure?) |
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<a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/?action=view¤t=yaoi-5.gif" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk28/DaisukeTravisYaoi/yaoi-5.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"></a> Coffee Shop. Doctors Degree. | |
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| purebloodymurder | Mar 22 2010, 12:02 AM Post #14 |
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☆★☆★
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[Give Mitchell time, he'll screw something up ;)] He drained probably half the bottle by the time he got around to really thinking about it. That was true, why hadn't he thought of that? He was here to help him practice, not to teach. That kind of ... stumped Mitchell actually and he wasn't entirely sure what to think for a moment. Then the hand was extended to him and he suddenly seemed to get hit with the whole 'practically blind' thing. Of course he knew about it and everything but ... guess it was just ... different actually coming into contact with it. Suddenly, he felt very humble but in a calm fashion. "Umm, yeah, sorry. It just ... totally slipped my mind." He spoke quietly, placing the bottle down on the floor and rising to his feet. It was a hesitant move at first but Mitchell placed his palm under his hand and tugged forward gently, just as instructed. Was it odd to note how when he'd thought the man's hands would be worn with practice that they actually felt rather smooth? And strong actually. Even in a careful balance, it wasn't hard to notice. He'd done plenty of handshakes already. Confidence could easily be found in someone's hands. "You don't have to worry about tripping over anything." He finally replied as he moved the other to one side of the love seat. It was the only thing he had in the apartment to sit on. "I don't have enough stuff to even make a mess." He chuckled softly. "Alright now just turn around and sit. You should be able to feel the couch if you move your legs forward about an inch." He held onto his hand until Jeff was seated and then he let it slip out. His inner fan was mixing with his emotions and he felt the quiet pain of loss at the touch. Ahh, well. What was he expecting? "To be honest," He started before taking a seat next to the other and relaxing into the couch as he always would. He loved this couch. "I kinda didn't even think about what to practice." He ran a hand over his freshly cleaned hair. "There is so much that I need to work on I-I don't even know where to start." He was quiet a moment before he looked over to the side. He tried not to notice the rather unique color of his eyes and pushed on with his question, "What did you do? I mean, when you were first learning, what did your instructor start you off with?" He gazed forward again, looking curious. "Do they just do stretches or something? Or maybe they teach you basic steps? But basic steps of what ...." He was more or less just thinking aloud. |
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[align=center] This ain't a love song This ain't a broken heart homie singing only cause he's lonely This ain't a whiskey drowned ballad, there ain't nothing here that's valid [/align] | |
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| Daisuke Travis | Mar 22 2010, 10:47 AM Post #15 |
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Nerd of all things sci-fi, including alien abductions!
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Jeff smiled at the response he received about his blindness as Mitchell guided him to the seat. "That's understandable, given that U usually walk around as if my eyesight is perfectly all right. Most people think of a blind person as someone who constantly wears sunglasses, has a seeing eye dog, and always moves around a red and white striped cane in front of them to go anywhere. I don't do any of that, so even though people know I'm legally blind, then tend to forget that since I don't fit into the stereotypes about blind people. When was the last time you heard about a blind man that works out at the gym, aside from me?" Jeff chuckled at his own question, knowing that only a scant few reports of that kind ever aired on the news, as it wasn't really a very high-value news piece, and was generally just filler material between news segments. Jeff focused on the directions on where to sit, and when he heard that the seat was just an inch or so in front of him, he reached out a hand to touch the arm rest, and slowly turned himself about to avoid sitting on the wring thing. "Ahh.. Nice and comfy.." Jeff turned his face towards Mitchell as the student talked about not really knowing what to practice, and asked what his own teacher had first tried to teach him. "That's an interesting question that people always ask me, and the answer is always the same; confidence. My mentor always taught me that no matter how sure my footing was, no matter how graceful or acrobatic one is, it doesn't matter at all if you don't have confidence with yourself. It doesn't matter whether you're a singer, dancer, news anchor, or even a construction worker, you can't do your job as well as you could if you lack confidence in yourself." Jeff let that stew through Mitchell's mind for a few moments before continuing. "One thing I noticed about you in class today, was that you physically blanked everyone else out before you started to dance. Now that's okay for a beginner, but from the way you danced, you've obviously danced for quite a long time, so you shouldn't feel as if you have to block everyone out in order to perform. I had that problem myself too, and I'll give you the same advice my mentor gave me. The first thing to do is to recognize why you don't feel comfortable with dancing when others can watch. For me, it was because I wasn't confident in my ability to perform in front of a group without making a misstep. I knew from experience with my sisters that if I made misstep number one in front of a crowd, that I'd be too embarrassed to continue on, no matter how much I was goaded into continuing." "So my teacher said to start small, and imagine just one person in my mind watching me dance, someone who I knew would be neither critical about my dance, nor completely enthusiastic about it, and would simply point out any mistakes that I might have made. For me, that was my mother, she enjoyed it whenever I tried to dance, and she was never overly critical nor appraising of my efforts. If I overextended myself a bit too much, she simply told be about that, and then gave me a little piece of advice on how to avoid overextending myself, and then let me try again." Sighing softly, Jeff remembered his mother, who was no longer alive. "Then the next step was to think of a second person to imagine watching you, and that person would have to be either overly critical, or overly optimistic, whatever kind of person you'd be most likely to try harder to impress. For some people, having someone that constantly points every last fault about their dance steps is a way to put in a ton more effort just to prove said person wrong. For other people, it's having an easily impressed audience that goads them to further impress. So I suggest that you start just by imagining someone in your life who is neither a total jerk about your dancing nor a total fan of your dance. Then after that you imagine someone who is biased either towards or against your dance in some way. That helps your confidence just my imagining what kinds of things such people would say about how much your dance impressed them." Jeff looked over at Mitchell, watching as the man digested the advice that he'd just given him. The thing about confidence is that it's hard to gain at first, but easily lost within the span of not even a second. You just have to keep at it even when you've lost motivation for a time, and keep trying to keep your confidence high. The only one stopping you from improving, is you yourself." |
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