There was... no music. That, she would admit, was a little troublesome for her present purposes, but she'd live. After all, more than there being no music, there were no people around, at least not in the immediate vicinity. While the fountain sat nearby with the relaxing sound of flowing water, the fact remained that it was relatively late; after sundown, at the very least. Most of the people that were still up, Alyss was certain, were at the bars or some such places, or otherwise back home doing whatever they still needed to take care of for the night or merely using this time some ways after nightfall for leisure. Not that she really cared, they could be doing whatever they wanted; the point was, she had her own time for leisure. She was alone, able to enjoy the starlit, moonlit sky.
And that was absolutely perfect for her, she who preferred her solitude, or at least liked to think so. There was still something to say for being around people sometimes, for some minor comfort in thinking, maybe, something good would happen while at the same time expecting nothing of the sort. Troublesome contradictions, and this was her occasional escape. Her peace, aided with small flickering flames that she herself created to spread through a small area around herself.
So the little 'stage' was set with the small lights of her flames added to the mix of the other lights. So the girl afforded herself a light, calming breath, expecting at any time for someone to show up and see the little display, maybe even question her for being out so late. Barely a doubt in her mind that such a thing would happen, but she abandoned such thoughts for now in favor of movement. Light, flowing, starting off slow and only speeding up a small amount; graceful, not fast-paced and wild like so many she'd seen of other people and their more 'modern' dances. A sweeping motion here and there, eyes kept closed lest she spot someone and suddenly lose her nerve, perhaps something even worse. More so, every movement passing along the flames that emitted light but no real heat, catching and constantly replacing them from the air such that the dance was a flow of graceful motions and soft flames to follow them. Something intrinsic to her herself, regardless of those so-called 'fire dancers' and their flame-tipped staves, or poles, or whatever exactly it was they used.
No, this was a true fire dance put on by the phoenix, or quite close to it, herself.
This was hers, all hers. Nobody could take that from her. Not that, nor the gold-hued red wings that rested upon her back and appeared, on occasion, to be producing flickering flames themselves by no input of hers. Better yet, her fitting attire, a white shirt detached from the sleeves that started just above her elbows and ended more widely at her wrists in a pattern of soft red flames, going down to a split cloth down the back and front of her legs, leaving the sides exposed for the dark blue pants beneath and ending, like the sleeves, in a pattern of flames. Also her own, something she'd had specifically tailored for just such times as this when she could get away, be free, do her own thing.
A show she wasn't certain whether she wanted others to see, but knew she'd be rather uncomfortable if they did... especially when they'd likely take note of the tattoo denoting a harpy outcast from her family in dark blue on her upper left arm.
And that was absolutely perfect for her, she who preferred her solitude, or at least liked to think so. There was still something to say for being around people sometimes, for some minor comfort in thinking, maybe, something good would happen while at the same time expecting nothing of the sort. Troublesome contradictions, and this was her occasional escape. Her peace, aided with small flickering flames that she herself created to spread through a small area around herself.
So the little 'stage' was set with the small lights of her flames added to the mix of the other lights. So the girl afforded herself a light, calming breath, expecting at any time for someone to show up and see the little display, maybe even question her for being out so late. Barely a doubt in her mind that such a thing would happen, but she abandoned such thoughts for now in favor of movement. Light, flowing, starting off slow and only speeding up a small amount; graceful, not fast-paced and wild like so many she'd seen of other people and their more 'modern' dances. A sweeping motion here and there, eyes kept closed lest she spot someone and suddenly lose her nerve, perhaps something even worse. More so, every movement passing along the flames that emitted light but no real heat, catching and constantly replacing them from the air such that the dance was a flow of graceful motions and soft flames to follow them. Something intrinsic to her herself, regardless of those so-called 'fire dancers' and their flame-tipped staves, or poles, or whatever exactly it was they used.
No, this was a true fire dance put on by the phoenix, or quite close to it, herself.
This was hers, all hers. Nobody could take that from her. Not that, nor the gold-hued red wings that rested upon her back and appeared, on occasion, to be producing flickering flames themselves by no input of hers. Better yet, her fitting attire, a white shirt detached from the sleeves that started just above her elbows and ended more widely at her wrists in a pattern of soft red flames, going down to a split cloth down the back and front of her legs, leaving the sides exposed for the dark blue pants beneath and ending, like the sleeves, in a pattern of flames. Also her own, something she'd had specifically tailored for just such times as this when she could get away, be free, do her own thing.
A show she wasn't certain whether she wanted others to see, but knew she'd be rather uncomfortable if they did... especially when they'd likely take note of the tattoo denoting a harpy outcast from her family in dark blue on her upper left arm.