[LEVE] A Performance to Remember
Lifelong performer and artist Nokkiri Pokkiri is on the verge of completing his magnum opus; a choreographed dance, which requires the dancer to step across paint pallets at carefully calculated intervals in which to refresh their footprints. At the dance's conclusion, a perfect mandala of painted footprints will adorn the dancing circle. However, Nokkiri is sad to admit he is no longer spry enough to dance the performance himself. He seeks a competent dancer to learn the steps and complete his vision.
Author's Notes
[Written for the weekly RP Leve assignment Khaidai received]
Khaidai approached his first leve with enthusiasm: as happy as he was to hunt and forage or help people in their menial tasks, being hired to do work appropriate for his main profession thrilled him. A part of him worried how well he’d be able to keep his balance when dancing on pallets of paint, but another saw it as a challenge that’d test his skills in ways no other performance had previously done.
Upon meeting his client in New Gridania, the aged performed was overjoyed: not only was he happy to train a young dancer in his lifelong trade, but also relieved that Khaidai’s small size made it much easier for the old master to adjust his Lalafell-sized vision to better suit his Auri dancer.
“Can you dance until your feet can no longer carry you?”
“I can, but it would be ill advised to do so — a dancer must respect the limits of his feet before he reaches their limit.”
The man had laughed heartily at this sincere answer.
“I think you and I are going to get well along, my boy.”
Nokkiri Pokkiri proved to be a demanding but fair teacher: warmups and practice would start early in the morning, and on most days it would end right before the arrival of dusk. Khaidai would often have to repeat the same steps over and over with minimal variation to determine the distance between each step for the mandala, and the man hardly minced words when he had deemed Khaidai’s performance any less than perfect. But for every fault he would always bring up something he had exceeded in, and the long work hours were balanced with breaks where the Lalafell would share Khaidai some of the delicious meals his husband had prepared for him.
In the week that the performance practice took place, something akin to friendship blossomed between the two dancers. Even more than the colorful mandala of his footprints he’d eventually produce to the admittedly small audience, it was the process of learning under the older dancer that felt the most fulfilling — that was the reason he decided to stay in Eorzea, after all.
“Now that you have played your part, what are you planning to do?” Nokkiri had asked after the performance was over and Khaidai’s feet washed off of the heavy, colorful paint.
“Continue learning even more,” he had answered, truthfully. “I’ve been thinking of paying a longer visit to Ishgard, to learn more of their own dances.”
“A world of rigid rules is waiting for you there — the polar opposite of what I do.”
Khaidai had smiled at him in answer: “Well, you must always know the rules before breaking them — or changing them.”
“Now that’s a performance I’d like to witness,” had been the answer, accompanied by a playful grin.
“Please look forward to it.”