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video; un: riftdancer
Sep. 6th, 2022 01:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thavnairianWHO: Amal Vasiya and you!
WHERE: The network
WHEN: After the portal to the library opens up~
WHAT: Amal asks a goddess for a dance and proceeds to show her the bad side of modern dance.
WARNINGS: Language, Amal being a catastrophic whiner.
[video]
[This is possibly the worst day of his life.
He's weathered the apocalypse more than once, seen the man he loved die before his eyes, nearly gotten sliced in half, watched his homeland burn, and collapsed at his enemy's feet powerless and dying... but all of that pales in comparison to the insult he has just experienced. At least, for a guy like Amal, who rarely takes anything all that seriously.
He alerts the entire town of Kaisou to this injustice by complaining on social media, naturally. Dressed in his Thavnairian best, he looks like he's ready for a festival—but his eyeliner is smudged, the mascara is running, and even the little ribbon in his hair is drooping. He is in his room, which looks like someone has been throwing pillows and clothes around.]
I'm ruined. RUINED!!!!
My career—finished. My dreams of dancing—dashed. How could this happen to me? Have I not suffered enough? Have I not danced until my feet bled, and kept on going?!
[He drags his palms down his face and flops out of frame. Judging by the sound, he is now on the floor.]
I can't go outside like this. I can't work. I can't express myself. My life is over.
[a vague thump]
This is more than a curse, this is a fatal wound. Just let me die...
WHERE: The network
WHEN: After the portal to the library opens up~
WHAT: Amal asks a goddess for a dance and proceeds to show her the bad side of modern dance.
WARNINGS: Language, Amal being a catastrophic whiner.
[video]
[This is possibly the worst day of his life.
He's weathered the apocalypse more than once, seen the man he loved die before his eyes, nearly gotten sliced in half, watched his homeland burn, and collapsed at his enemy's feet powerless and dying... but all of that pales in comparison to the insult he has just experienced. At least, for a guy like Amal, who rarely takes anything all that seriously.
He alerts the entire town of Kaisou to this injustice by complaining on social media, naturally. Dressed in his Thavnairian best, he looks like he's ready for a festival—but his eyeliner is smudged, the mascara is running, and even the little ribbon in his hair is drooping. He is in his room, which looks like someone has been throwing pillows and clothes around.]
I'm ruined. RUINED!!!!
My career—finished. My dreams of dancing—dashed. How could this happen to me? Have I not suffered enough? Have I not danced until my feet bled, and kept on going?!
[He drags his palms down his face and flops out of frame. Judging by the sound, he is now on the floor.]
I can't go outside like this. I can't work. I can't express myself. My life is over.
[a vague thump]
This is more than a curse, this is a fatal wound. Just let me die...
