The needle was lowered gently onto the rotating disc below - suspended, slowly, gracefully. The guests waited for the defining moment of contact. The moment in which the first strike is made producing that screeching noise only heard by such an archaic device of sound. The moment in which music begins flowing into the air pumping momentum and cadence into by standers and dancers. The will to dance, the inspiration to show off active art skills to either make a point or create yet another final sign of affection with the person our most tender emotions are given to. As the music continues to reverberate its waltz like cadence - of course, that song is queued for last. It is the final tempo designed to be the most romantic piece, the final, perfect “never let it end” memory before the subjects depart to their lodgings for the night. As the screeching halts, as the instruments begin their intro, the lead pace is set to that of the racing heart. The orchestra meets the racing, mixed emotions; reassuring them that they are just as scared underneath their mask of expertise. As the ice breaker song outros, so the dance floor becomes filled; souls longing to meet new friends. So the screech has played.
The two began circling around and round - waiting, anticipating who would strike first - the fear resonated through out the area. The bystanders waged solo bets as to who would win and who would never dance again. The one victim was lean with skill chiseled into what his mass lacked. The other, large with mass dimly grinned as he expected this to be an easy pummeling. Swiftly the victim attempted the first strike by pushing off and sprinting to close the distance. With ease the mass raised a single arm expecting him to ram into it. Instead, at the last second-mid pace, the victim turned exposing his back, but struck the mass with a surgically placed elbow. The mass, caught off guard, began to recoil his arm while halting the problem with the other. The victim then ducked and rotated under the recoiling arm placing another surgical elbow into the spine (avoiding the kidney strictly to prolong pleasure) and pushing off by pushing away. The tower, dazed and disoriented, spun and charged with an outstretched fist. Dodge-swing-swing-dodge-dodge-strike-swing-dodge-swing-pummel-swing-dodge-strike - both now bruised and the victim bloody.
Out of fate’s kind heart, so the record skips to the final number.
Dissapointed as the guests maybe, so must the waltz proceed.
The mass, enraged and confused grabs the nearest weapon like shape from the surrounding rubble. The victim forcing a blood thirsty grin as fear is pulled from a nearby rubble pile also. For the final time, the two circle around each other. For the first time the terms to their duel are sidelined: victor no longer gets a prisoner but also a ticket home. In a furious fit, the mass rushes unexpectedly, side stepping the missing defense and striking the victim in the ribs - by standers now finishing their dances to watch the main attraction shudder as the snapping of bone reverberates off the broken buildings. The mass retracts and shoves the victim backwards going in for a strike across the head, the victim wills a block just in time. Disengages and reengages trying to quickly end this. Blind with rage, the mass simply arrests the incoming strike. The victim attempts to retract.
They had been dancing all night, the shortest night of their lives. The order had come unexpectedly, the young lieutenant fought to get all the right strings pulled to let as many of his men spend their final night home with the ones they’ll miss the most. Sitting on the balcony of the historic hotel, he listened as they celebrated and cheered for the last time in a long time. In time for the final song, a warm feeling wrapped around him from behind. The people parted as they entered the center of the dance floor - waiting for the screech of the final record. Slowly they built up their own ice breaker waltz - syncing before engaging in the dance that means the most. Gracefully, he took her hand and comforted her waist as she warmed his shoulder. Together they closed the distance to such a degree that man would consider it impossible to not step on each other. The guests cheered the couple on as they began their final song. Step-step-step-turn-step-step-twist-step-turn-gaze. Both hearts beating, minds racing to stay connected to each other. Long past the end of the song did they dance until they could feel each others hearts. As they held each other, they listened to each others beats slowly return to normal - remembering each others warmth before they would succumb to coldness until next time reunited.
