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Post by TORRENCE KIRKPATRICK on Feb 15, 2012 19:42:51 GMT -5
No matter the type, there was always an underlying grace to dance. The movements, wether smooth or choppy, conveyed somuch emotion if one payed attention. A dancer could be moving with grief, passion, terror, anything. Kennedy Hart was quite skilled in this type of acting. At first, dancing had been just a hobby. Then, Kenny realized how theraputic it was. When Kenny was angry, her dancing was filled with harsh intensity. When she was happy, the choreography was light, airy movements: jumps, twirls, pirouettes.
Today, Kenny had no true emotional motives for her dance. She had signed up to take a hip-hop class for fun, and while it was just that, Kenny had yet to find depth in the movements. They were jerky,abrupt, and occasionally silly...however, Kenny was loving it. The class had just ended, finishing up with a crumping routine that Kenny found delightfully hillarious. Her hair was still in its sleek, stylish ponytail and Kenny made a quick swipe under her eyes to catch any potentially runny eyeliner (so, basically, nothing, because Kenny's makeup was always perfectly applied and lived in the fear of messing up, so it shalt feel the wrath of Kenny.).
Satisfied and knowing she looked good, Kenny sauntered down the hall to where she knew the gymnasts would be practicing. It had always been one of Kenny's regrets that all she managed to learn was a cartwheel. Oh, she could also do a mean flip on the trampoline. But Kennedy wanted to be able to do those advanced flips, she wanted to master that. Since she already was flexible and posessed a good sense of balance, Kenny believed that such things should come easily to someone like her. Kennedy stepped into the open, matted gym, and glanced around for a worthy teacher. No, not her, too pimply, Kenny thought, wrinkling her nose. A sense of frustration overtook Kenny as all the girls were not meeting her standards, until...THERE! Kenny smiled, satisfied, as she watched the girl work on a floor routine. From what she could tell, the gymnast was part of Kenny's class (she might not have names for them, but Kenny recognized all of the faces of the junior class) and there was a name just out of her reach. An 'A' name...Amelia? Ashley? Aurora? Oh, fuck it.
Kenny swished over to the girl, turning on her charming, 100-watt smile. "Hello, I'm Kennedy Hart. You can call me Kenny," Kenny trilled in her sharp English accent. "I just came from dance and couldn't help but notice your little routine here and I must say, I'm quite jealous. I've always wanted to learn to do that." Smiling, Kenny adjusted her shorts and waited for and answer.
tag;; Addie!
wearing;; Hot pink sports bra, off-the-shoulder drapey white top and black yoga shorts.
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Post by ADDISON ROWE on Feb 15, 2012 23:12:28 GMT -5
   TAG: kennedy/sully NOTES: i love kennedy WORDS: 651 OUTFIT: something gymnast-y
Gymnastics hadn’t seemed all that appealing when Addison first started. Back in Chicago during sixth grade, they’d had a gymnastics portion during gym class. It had lasted for a couple of weeks and was the really simple stuff. It had to be simple if a bunch of ten and eleven year olds were attempting it. All they had wanted to do was kick a ball around or play with the jump ropes. Addison had been one of the latter at first (she was a pro at jump roping) but gymnastics eventually came to her. Once it started to become easy, she loved it. She excelled at it, became the top of her class. That there had been rare enough because everybody assumed bookworms don’t do well in gym.
Since then, gymnastics had become a hobby. She didn’t like the idea of competing seriously (she could not work under that kind of stress). Addison just liked twirling and flipping for fun. Mostly. Sure, she sometimes went out of her way to do better than some of the girls in her class. It wasn’t a reoccurring sort of thing. It was just when the girl was practically asking for it, bragging loudly about how she was the best at everything. Especially when she was new. Addison had been in this class for two years now, having been moved up since she started during her freshman year. It was almost her second home – she could call most of the girls her sisters.
Addison was practicing a floor routine right now. She’d grown tired of the balance beam and was simply not in the mood for vault. Addison loved floor, everything about it, no matter how exhausting it could be. It was one of the very best ways to show off her creativity. Not to mention the flips. Those were fun. It kind of upset her that ninety seconds was the time limit. Picking the music was her favorite part. Sometimes, she favored the softer songs and other times the fast ones. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much time today to play around because an older girl who actually did compete had to practice for a local competition.
Out of nowhere came a blonde in shorts and an off-the-shoulder top. Before Addison could put a name to her face, the girl had spoken… and she had an accent. Addison had always loved accents; she loved hearing how words sounded with them and they just tended to be a delight on her ears. So, Addison decided she could put off her continuing her floor routine to speak with this girl. Kennedy Hart. Kenny was a fine nickname but Addison much preferred Kennedy. Hopefully, she wouldn’t mind. Kennedy was vaguely familiar but it wasn’t the accent or her face; it was the smile and the way she exuded confidence. Addison could bet people didn’t say no to Kennedy Hart.
“A pleasure to meet you, Kennedy. My name’s Addison Rowe.
[/color]” She left it at that because Addie was a nickname she liked to reserve for her friends. Dance? Addison thoroughly enjoyed watching dancing but she still couldn’t understand what had happened to the art. It could hardly be called dancing now; it was all jerky movements and being too close to your partner. Addison smiled and blushed a little, surprised that Kennedy (a dancer who surely did things just as or perhaps more stunning than floor) had been jealous of the routine. “ It’s really quite fun. I’ve always enjoyed floor the most.[/color]” Addison looked at the spring floor, wondered for a moment how much more time she had, and then smiled back at Kennedy. “ Is there anything specific you’d like to learn?[/color]” Addison wasn’t much of a teacher but it couldn’t hurt to try. Besides, it wasn’t often people came to her with questions when the teacher was just across the room. “ I’ll do my best to teach you.[/color]” [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] [/FONT] [/center] |
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