recolle | open | we dance around it like the wild things in the night

open | we dance around it like the wild things in the night

WHO: Yuri Plisetsky & various (Anya, Yuuri, YOU...)
WHERE: Throughout Recolle
WHEN: March 10th onward
WHAT: Yuri works the ice rink in and out of mascot costume as Comet the Orca; comedy ensues?
WARNINGS: None yet, will update as necessary.

( When he's on Comet duty, Yuri can be thankful for exactly one thing: he doesn't have to talk. Being a giant Orca mascot that hands out coupons, waves, and takes pictures with people who ask, he doesn't need to talk. He can, but by and large Yuri's taken to wearing his headphones and suffering the heat and febreeze of being Comet with the vague promises in the back of his head that he gets to make free use of the showers at the rink once he's stint as the mascot is over for the night.

With St. Patricks Day fast approaching, the coupons he has on hand are shaped like shamrocks, advertising a themed skating hour with discounts for families and children earlier in the day, teens and adults with themed skating hours and a raffle later on.

( i ) He can be found near the skating ring at Stardust handing out coupons in mascot uniform; ( ii ) those stopping by the counter in the early evening might catch sight of Yuri as he (still in Comet suit) ducks toward the back and pulls off the heavy Orca head to reveal one hell of a case of not-actually-bed-head, with a cowlick formed out of his bangs. )

How does this thing get even heavier every time?

( It's a rhetorical question he voices to himself as he tromps off to the locker rooms. ( iii ) The real end of the night has him yawning into a closed fist and shoving homework into his backpack, checking on the rows of skates lined up on shelves and finishing chasing the last of the stragglers out while his coworkers deal with cleaning up the ice and locking up as he heads out toward the bus stop nearest to where he works. Time to head home and get started on passing out before starting another day... )

It's another fifteen minutes before the bus is here... if it's on time.

( He tells no one in particular, leaning forward to rest his forehead on the side of the bus shelter he's waiting next to. Can he sleep standing up? Time to probably not find out. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( He doesn't know what to make of his dreams when they feel so vivid; the clarity of how he'd felt, the things he'd seen, and the fact that unlike the first dream he'd had of the kind, this time he recognised who he'd been watching. Yuuri Katsuki, in costume, figure skating. Honestly more of an absurd series of images if Yuri hadn't found himself unable to look away in dream.

He doesn't have the right language for it right now. Those step sequences, something about the flow, the choreography, reminds him of Viktor; he's not sure why, when the only glimpse of Viktor in his dream had been from the sidelines, where Yuri himself also stood. Where Yuri had been unable to look away, and unable to watch to the end. He'd felt that certainty of loss, of not being good enough; there was no context for it he could grasp, but he'd felt it. Felt it as tied up in the regard behind Viktor, who had also been unable to look away.

Whatever else it was that Yuuri Katsuki was, at least in Yuri Plisetsky's dreams, he was unaccountably enthralling. And that is not a Yuuri Katsuki he's seen before, but it burns, like an itch, because it feels like it's one he knows. Which is stupid. Yuuri may be a dance instructor (and now Zumba instructor) at Dance!!! Studio, but for all his talent, and all his skill, Yuri's never seen him move like that.

It had been a seduction, and he knows it. But why the hell is he dreaming about Katsuki seducing anyone on ice? Why did it leave him feeling all tangled and unsettled? Why can't he stop thinking about it?

Yuri shakes his head, shrugging out of the bomber jacket Anya'd gotten him for his birthday and focusing on his class with another of the instructors. Logic tells him the reason why he can't stop thinking about it is the clarity; it's the feeling like this isn't a dream at all, but a memory. Only that can't be right either. Yuuri doesn't even ice skate. He dances. Yuri wants to understand what it's all about. Retrospec? Maybe. Or maybe he's developing a weird ice skating fetish, for no apparent reason.

... No. No way. He's more on edge than usual, intent in his focus on getting through class. At the end, he's lingering later, making excuses to his friends while he stays on the watch for Yuuri. Not terribly unusual, but it means he's not working or heading out to tutoring to keep up with classes; and when he spies Yuuri at last, his eyes flick over him looking for some sudden insight or explanation, studying the man from behind.

Why you? If there was or wasn't a slip of paper stuck to his back is a secondary detail. Yuri has too many questions of his own, to start. )

[ For his part, Yuuri is too busy saying goodbye to his few remaining students while he works on tidying up the room to really notice the fact that Yuri is still at the studio or that he seems suddenly very preoccupied with him.

What he is also unaware of is the piece of paper currently on his back (how did it even get there, anyway?) and the message written on it:

I've never had the courage to audition for any dancing parts and at this rate I honestly doubt that will ever change. Somebody as old and uncoordinated as me shouldn't be wasting other people's time with pointless attempts. ]

( The paper catches Yuri's attention, which is welcome in a way: it means he's not glaring at the back of Yuuri's head trying to figure him out. It's also the excuse to stalk closer, footsteps light because he doesn't feel like stomping. He reaches out, ignoring the fact his heart wants to skip a beat when he reaches out and slips his fingers under that piece of paper, tugging down on it with a firm flick of his wrist.

If he ignores it, it will go away. Nevermind that part of why he's lingering and confronting Yuuri in his own way is because it's been unsettling ever since he had that damn dream. His eyes fall down to the paper, giving it a read over twice before he frowns, brow furrowing. )

Katsuki. ( He flips the paper around, holding it out like a weapon instead of the piece of paper it is. ) Is this true?

( He can't even explain how it makes him feel. Disappointed? Hurt? What the hell does it even have to do with him? He's not even aware of his own story written on his back, a slip of paper over the eyes of the embroidered tiger. Out of sight except in the mirrors as a flash of white against the red and gold.

If I ever lost the facade of confidence I use to face the world, I'd be left having to face the loneliness and sense of abandonment I've felt since my mother walked out of my life and never looked back. I'll make myself unforgettable. I'll make sure that never happens again, even if it means never letting people get too close, because cruel as the world is, I can force it to acknowledge me if I fight hard enough. )

Huh?

[ The light tug on his back when Yuri takes the paper is enough to make him turn around. ]

What is it...? [ He asks the question before reading the thing, momentarily more intrigued about why Yuri was there behind him and calling him by his last name.

And then his eyes actually focus on the paper and go very wide all of a sudden. He can feel something like his heart plummeting to his stomach and he's very sure that even if he had the words to reply to that question, his throat would still refuse to cooperate. ]

( He's never quite seen something hit home like this does for Yuuri. It's his expression that seals the truth; Yuri feels his own frustration, familiar as it is, well up and quivers with that tension. How can he be content with that? How?

It's the same memory that's confused him already, but there's a confidence in what Yuuri can do, if he only gets out there. Yuri has an absolute sort of confidence that if he were to pit himself directly against Yuuri, he'd be facing a bigger challenge than anything else he's faced in his life. And he'd be lying if that didn't sound exciting, on some level; he thrives on having goals to strive after, on having personal bests to beat, in having peers who are pushing just as hard. Maybe that's part of his problem the start of this year, if the Retrospec stuff wasn't making it all worse.

But right now, he can't get that image out of his mind's eye. That feeling overwhelming, both a despair at a loss he can't quantify and an inability to look away. )

So you're telling me you're content to give up without trying? Just like that.

( He's felt this disappointment before. Frustration is easier to indulge, and for all the conflicted things he's feeling, it's also galling. For a whole few seconds he feels more put together than someone what, five, six years his senior? He keeps hold of that paper, fingers crushing into it as he makes a noise of choked frustration, spinning on heel and stalking, stomping off. He needs to release that frustration somehow, but there's nothing in here to kick outside of his own backpack.

Three metres away, he spins back to face Yuuri, shoulders hunched. He wants to march back, to get up into his face, but is that wise? Hell if he knows. Hell if he understands any of this; raking a hand through his hair, he glares at Yuuri, trying to hold frustration and not give way to disappointment. It's a losing battle, even when he barks out a: )

Why? How? How the hell can you think so badly about yourself? You think Vitya would hire an uncoordinated twenty-something to teach here just because he was hot? He's not that kind of idiot!

( .................................. or he is. but whatever. he doesn't much care if Viktor is or isn't that unwise; he knows it's not true. knows it down to his marrow, and it's so, so frustrating to see that Yuuri's willing to throw it all away without having fought for it in the first place. For lacking, of all things, courage. As if it's not courage enough to push your body to be as fit as they are; as if it doesn't take courage to stand in front of students and show them what they need to do. Yes, even Yuri's said "those who can, do, those who can't, teach," but a good teacher doesn't spring out of nothing, and he's always thought Yuuri was too good to be teaching.

And what, Yuuri was just going to accept that he was some kind of has-been when he's never been a "has" in the first place? )

[ Yuri's yelling at him. Demanding explanations, kind of? It's hard to tell with his mind somehow both in overdrive and blank at the same time. He wants to say something, to try and defend or justify himself, but somehow the writing on the paper is too full of truth for him to try and pass them off as fiction. That is exactly how he feels, even if he'd never bothered (dared) to put it into words.

His hand moves on its own and half-heartedly reaches out for the shorter boy when he begins stomping off, but his own movements are far too slow and uncertain to actually touch him; so his hand just remains there in mid-air, grasping at something that's not there.

He does notice the paper on Yuri's back, but the only words he manages to read before he turns to face him again are "If I ever lost the facade of confidence..." Just what kind of awful prank is this?

But again, his brain isn't moving fast enough to keep up with all of this, and now Yuri is barking at him again.

The corners of his lips curl up into something almost reminiscent of a smile, gaze focused on some distant spot behind Yuri. A low, breathy chuckle comes out. ]

T-There's no point in trying. It's already too late for me and that's my own fault. [ His tone, while steady, is also full of a very uncomfortable detachment—like he doesn't even want to think of the words coming out of his mouth. ] Anyway, I'm content with what I have now, so it doesn't matter. I don't mind.

[ He swallows hard, finally letting his hand drop to his side again.

This is probably going to get him into trouble at the studio. What sort of example can someone who keeps encouraging students to try their best and follow their dreams set, while... being a big hypocrite who has never done any of that himself?

He's going to get fired.

That's okay.

It's only fair. ]

Edited 2017-03-21 06:10 (UTC)

No.

( He doesn't know he's said that out loud until he hears the word in his own ears, feeling it as a sensation of denial and refusal of Yuuri's excuses. He stalks forward, too sinuous to be a proper stomp, but he's used to these floors and as much as he needs to release the energy, the way it comes out is like this: a note too graceful stalk forward in an anger that sparks in his eyes.

He doesn't hesitate to get in Yuuri's face this time. Doesn't think about it at all, just reacts, because reacting is what he does so well. )

If you didn't mind, it wouldn't be a regret. You wouldn't be afraid of it. You'd be happy, not content, not lying through your teeth and running away from the fact there's no such thing as too late. Too late for what? Trying?

( He reaches out to prod at Yuuri's breastbone, shaking with restrained fury and the thin, keening edge of anger that almost makes him want to cry. He shoves that as firmly away as he tries to shove the memory of Yuuri moving with confidence, performing for an audience, seducing them (seducing Viktor, for Yuri is not blind and is not a fool and doesn't know if it is a dream in truth or if it's the same sort of confused memory that people around him have been suffering since February), and everyone being incapable of looking away.

That hadn't just been skating. That had been dancing on ice; that had been athleticism that Yuri feels like a caress against his skin, a siren's song for possibilities. He doesn't know why it riles him up like it does.

But hearing Yuuri say these things, hearing him dismiss himself (is that what this even is? Yuri doesn't know, he doesn't know), it just pisses him off. )

The only thing there's no fucking point to is giving up before you've ever tried!

[ Yuuri tenses up more, if that's even possible at this point. He's not backing away from Yuri because a part of his mind tells him that the other dancer would be perfectly capable of chasing after, and somehow that's scarier.

In all honesty, he doesn't know what he's most afraid of right now. The fact that his "secret" is out and now Yuri, of all people, knows about it? How close he is to losing his job right now? The fact that he has not a single intelligent argument to counter what Yuri is saying?

Or even worse, the fact that he might just be right and he actually stands a chance as a dancer out there, in the "real world"? ]

There's... [ He clears his throat. ] B-Behind you. On your back.

[ He knows full well this isn't the kind of answer that's expected of him, but that's the extent of his coherence right now. The last thing he wants to do is end up crying in front of someone he's supposed to be some sort of role model to.

(Keywords being "supposed to", because really, he's the one who looks up to Yuri, after all.) ]

( The non-sequitur has Yuri pulling his head back, brow furrowing as he growls out a nonverbal: )

Haaaah?!

( The stall doesn't make sense, even as it makes perfect sense. If there'd been a stupid piece of paper on Yuuri's back, courtesy of who knows what (Retrospec, his mind leaps to, because everything screwed up and unnatural about his life has been traced back to that damn company for weeks now), there may well be one on his own. He pulls his hand back from Yuuri, trying to look over his own shoulder. He half spins while chasing his metaphorical tail, arm twisting around to try and grab hold of the paper on his back to no success.

It leaves his back and the paper partly exposed to Yuuri, all in arms reach, if he finds it in himself to reach out. All the while, Yuri's barking out a: )

Stalling isn't going to work, Yuuri!

( Wow, even moving on to proper given names. Yuri's angry if he's taking that step; and it feels almost like a shock to his system, saying Yuuri and rolling that sound so it isn't a perfect replica of his own name. He doesn't like that it has the small hairs on the back of his own neck standing on end. He doesn't like that there's a fission of admiration and longing for something he can't name (which isn't Eros, though eros twirls around somewhere in the back of his mind) that Yuuri is denying him for reasons that have nothing to do with what Yuri will never have.

No. It's pretty simple, if he stops to think about it: a longing to prove himself against someone else with the skills and talents to make him have to work to get where he wants to be. Someone else to keep pace with in a way that he can't with Anya or Dave: for one, both lack the ambition, though Anya has been shifting gears lately. Just not to focus on dance.

And dance is where Yuri's heart lies. The way he can pay back his grandpa and pursue his own dreams, leave a mark on the world so lasting and beautiful and powerful he won't be forgettable. He will be acknowledged for his talent, hard earned and captivating as it is. )

3/10 | Yuuri | no one can touch me, nothing can stop me

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3/11 | Anya | look at the stars and how they shine for you

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