Two to Tango (Asana)

[Greg Tawera]

“Tango! Seriously! Why’d it have to be that, why not, I dunno, the worm or something??”[/b]

He’d been asking the same question loudly for the last few days, though, unsurprisingly, none of the other heroes seemed to be listening. Probably because they knew the answer as well as he did. The point of the schoolboy bet wasn’t to force someone to learn a skill – the point was humiliation, pure and simple. His friend had known just how hopeless Greg was as a dancer, and was planning on creating maximum enjoyment out of that fact. Who’s great idea was it to bet on who’d win in a maths test anyway? Stupidest idea for a competition he’d ever heard, but he was too competitive to pass it up regardless. And that’s what landed him in this situation. No big shock that he’d lost at a maths test, really. He’d actually been having fuzzy vision style warnings that he wasn’t going to win, but of course, Greg ignored the hints of what the future held, and look what it had gotten him. He had to remember to pay more attention to his prophesies from now on.

Greg dragged his feet dramatically, his hands in his jacket pockets and his head lolling back as though he’d just run a marathon without stopping for water. He threw himself down on the nearest lounge and groaned as if in some great and terrible pain. Folding his arms across his chest he scowled at the coffee table and kicked it half heartedly with one foot. The only thing he really wanted to kick right now was people. People with nerve endings. The kind that would react and show that it had hurt.

“S’not fair!”

Fiddling with the zipper on his hooded jacket, he sighed heavily. He only had a day left to learn to tango. And by that, he of course meant that he only had a day left before he had to attempt a tango without having a clue how to. He kicked off his heavy work boots and the blue striped jacket he’d been wearing to reveal the dark grey t-shirt beneath.

“Great. Well, I guess it takes two to tango, so as long as I kill everyone by tomorrow afternoon, I should be fine” he muttered bitterly to himself.

The sad thing was that, to Greg, the ‘kill-everyone-else-on-the-planet’ plan seemed like the easier option. He really couldn’t dance and there was no happy-ending style scenario that he could think of which didn’t end in someone being injured. Perhaps if he just killed the friend he’d made the bet with…

[Asana Salvatore]

people change and promises are broken
clouds can move and skies will be wide open

[/size][/center][/color][/i]

Asana had been in her room, relaxing on her bed when she heard someone yelling down in the foyer. Biting her lip, she debated whether or not she should go investigate. You see, Asana was the newest member of the crew and she was not so comfortable with the other members yet. She was a powerful hero in her own right, but because she had grown up a society miss, the group did not expect much from her. They saw her nothing but a burden, someone who couldn't fight and was only good at technology. Her power rebounded upon her, and they saw it as a weakness. If she could not use her power, and not on many enemies, then was she truly worth being part of the team? Asana debated that many times, her heart twinging with every thrust of her mental sword. Did she truly belong?

Sighing, the nineteen year old girl got to her feet. Her thick, silken soft brown hair fell to her shoulders in silken straightness. One lock was pure white, brushing against her right temple. She had aquired the lock when she had used to much power way to fast, causing the strand of hair to go pure white. Freaky, yes as well as cool. The girl had a heart - shaped face, with thick lashes framing pale, copper gold eyes that usually held no emotions in their deep depths. Her nose was pert, tilted up slightly, with full rosy lips that twitched every now and then, hiding her amusment slightly. The girl had a pale honey cream skin, not as dark as most of the crew, but not too light either. She stood a good five feet six inches, not to short and not too tall for her age. Asana had a nice etheral beauty, but not the stunning beauty of most girls. With her scars, and the tattooes and the piercings, many thought less of her.

Gliding away from the bed, Asana quickly grabbed a tank top and pulled it over her head. The tank stopped a little above her abbed stomach, which showd the piercing dangling there. Her cargo pants hung low on her hips, and mostly hid the black combat boots she wore. She quickly put her hair into a pony tail, and headed down to investigate. Her hands clenched the wood tightly, teeth chewing on her bottom lip. The yelling sounded like Greg, but she really didn't know everyone yet so she could be wrong. I wonder what he is mad about she thought, a slow smile playing upon her features as many possibilities flashed through her head. Only when she got to the foyer and saw Greg did she freeze.

Greg Tawera did not seem to be in the best of moods. He seemed to be agitated about something..and then she remembered what he had yelled first. Tango. A slow smile played upon her lips at the thought of this boy trying to learn that hard dance. Leaning against the wall, she lowered her lashes to watch as he had his 'tantrum.' Damn, he must have lost a bet or something she thought, feeling a surge of pity for the boy. With a resigned sigh, Asana slipped from the shadows and prowled into the room. She stopped mere feet from Greg, and spoke, her words musical and calm as usual I hear you have to learn how to tango. A low laugh escaped her lips, all husky and warm. I might not be useful in battle as much as everyone else, but I do know how to dance. Would you like me to teach you? she asked. Asana did not know what brought her to volunteer her time, but the damage was done. If he accepted, she would teach him how to tango.

”you speaking?”

TAGGED ! [/color]Greg.
LYRICS ! Jar Of Hearts - Christina Perri
WORDS ! Don't know
OUTFIT ! LINKAGE!
CREDIT ! MEELA! on CAUTION 2.0![/font][/size]

[Greg Tawera]

The only reason Greg had been complaining quite as loudly as he had been, was that no one had responded to it so far. He wanted to see exactly how far he could push them before someone snapped and tried to make him stop. So far there’d been no real luck. Disappointing really. Perhaps if he started biodegrading furniture they’d start paying attention to him. Greg truly was still within the age range of bratty behaviors, and it was bothering him to find that the others seemed to be equipped with adequate ignoring abilities and were able to handle it so well this far in.

Scuffing his now unshod foot on the floor, Greg scowled at the floorboards as though he might be able to make one burst into flames. Doing something like burning the house down would probably be enough to annoy Morgan and thus cheer Greg up somewhat. But of course, being that far on Morgan’s bad side would be like breaking a house of mirrors. You wouldn’t even escape the misfortune once you’d gone to Hades.

Then someone spoke. It surprised Greg, mostly because people generally didn’t begin conversations with him willingly. He looked up at the girl and blinked a few times.

“Um… yeah. Failed a maths test,” was all he offered in his strange concoction of kiwi, American and Australian accents. It was a wonder that anyone in the motley crew of heroes and heroines could understand each other.

Squinting and tilting his head slightly, Greg attempted to work out who the girl was. He knew he must’ve seen her around the house, but he was probably so absorbed in his own thoughts about himself that he didn’t really notice her. He thought he could recognise her face from a fuzzy memory, but he was having trouble working out who she was. Then it dawned on him.

His eyes widened in surprise. Greg hadn’t seen a whole lot of the new girl apart from his original vision of her. She seemed far more reserved than the other female heroes, or as far as he could tell. To be honest, he hadn’t exactly been spending quality time with any of them, beyond being a pain. And even then, one could argue that being a pain towards someone didn’t really count as quality time. All he really knew about her, he’d gotten from the original hit of the prophesy. He knew she was upper class, her last name was Salvatore, and she had something to do with an important Romanian figure, but he hadn’t really bothered to remember the information after he’d given it to Tony so that he could pick her up. That is, until now.

Double checking, Greg took in what the girl was wearing, piercings and all. Maybe he was wrong. She didn’t really seem like a high class citizen judging by her appearance. But no, that was definitely the face he’d seen in the original vision. He shook his head and listened to the illusionist as she spoke, still highly confused.

She offered to teach him the tango and his confusion simply deepened. His dark eyes glazed over as he thought about it. The comparison in his mind made him shudder. Either he was to go in and complete the bet tomorrow and make as much of himself in public as humanly possible; or he could suffer a few hours embarrassment now in private and hopefully avoid falling on his backside tomorrow.

He groaned as he looked up at Asana again with a pained, frowning expression. He really didn’t want to say what he was about to.

“Could you please?” He swallowed hard and grudgingly stood slouching to (not quite) his full height. He sighed heavily. "Help me Salvatore-Kanobi; you're my only hope."

[Asana Salvatore]

people change and promises are broken
clouds can move and skies will be wide open

[/size][/center][/color][/i]

Asana stood before Greg, nibbling on her lip patiently. She waited for Greg to take notice of her, hoping that he would not ignore her like so many people had tried to do before. Asana knew she was not the best hero material, and being shy and all made others wonder about her. Was she a stuck up bitch? Did she think she was too good for the others? Asana knew they would think this, and she did not blame them. Asana tried to keep to herself as much as possible because she was scared. Yeah, laugh all you want but everyone is scared of something. Asana's magic is new...she is new and does not know what to do. She is scared of rejection....of being hurt mentally by the group so she stayed hidden from the group, holing up in the room they had given her. Think her weak, but she did what she wanted to do.

When he looked up and spoke of failing a math test, Asana smiled. She was good at math. OK, good was a major understatement because she had passed college at so young a age. Asana could have helped him with the math test, get him to score a hundred like she had done so many times with algebra, history, english honors and such. Asana was really smart in her own way, but she hated compliments or anything. A did not want to be known as a know it all or anything. She wanted to fit in with this group but most likely she would not. At nineteen she should be in her second year of college, but sadly she had already finished harvard and was now a technology genius and artist. Sometimes it sucked being a freak because she either made no friends or people used her to their advantage. She knew it personally.

Asana noticed how Greg looked at her once, took in her figure, narrowed his eyes then looked again. She glanced down at what she was wearing, sighing softly. Ever since leaving Romania she had tried not to appear like the upperclass girl she had been born to be. She had bought combat boots, cargo pants, cheap tank tops, and pierced and tattooed her form. Also, the scars she had gave her a edge from not being a upperclass. Asana flushed slightly in embarressment, clenching her hands which were behind her back. Her eyes flickered away, trying to not let the pain in their depths show. She thought he was disgusted with hear appearence and it made her humilated and wishing she could put up a facade of a cold, society bitch.

Asana took in his glazed expression and how he stared at her. She knew he was calculating the odds of making a fool out of himself, or making the girls fall all over him as he put his friend to shame dancing. She stood stock still, watching and waiting for his approval or denial. When a pained expression played upon his lips, her eyes softened in understanding. When he stood up, he was taller then her, even with the slouching. Her eyes widened as he accepted her help and called her Salvatore-Kanobi. She laughed softly at that, the sound warm and full of mischief. Do not worry. The tango is not as hard as it seems. Truly, it took me a couple hours to learn, and I think it might take about the same time. Giving him a once over, she nodded before gesturing for him to follow her to the dance room.

”you speaking?”

TAGGED ! [/color]Greg.
LYRICS ! Jar Of Hearts - Christina Perri
WORDS ! Don't know
OUTFIT ! LINKAGE!
CREDIT ! MEELA! on CAUTION 2.0![/font][/size]

[Greg Tawera]

Greg had never been great at school, once again bringing him back to the simple question of ‘why’. Why the hell did he decide to bet on a maths test of all things? Did he think that perhaps his luck would change and he’d fluke the entire thing? Unlikely considering his relative dislike of Morgan. The only school related thing he’d ever had any skills in was sport. Probably because you have to kick, hit and throw things; those were three things which were high on his specialties list. Of course it was hard to shine as a high school sports star when you were constantly being suspended and not allowed to take part in the actual sporting match aspect of the game.

Asana’s new clothing choice certainly might have thrown some of the other heroes off her sent in regards to her upbringing, but it was understandably a little bit more difficult to hide your origin from someone who saw that image of you in a vision. It’d be like showing someone that you live in a mansion and then trying to tell them that you aren’t rich. So Greg wasn’t disgusted with Asana’s appearance, not even a tiny bit (well, scars can be a bit gross, but she got them fighting a griffin, so he supposed it added more of a cool factor than a gross one). He was just extraordinarily dumbfounded as to how the woman before him could have been the daughter of the Romanian Prime Minister. But ok, he’d go with it.

Greg saw the surprise in her eyes as he stood and accepted the offer she’d made. That made him smirk a little. Even if he couldn’t annoy all of them, he could at the very least still surprise some of the heroes. He was glad when she actually laughed at his Starwars reference. It would have been a miserable beginning to this last minute dance lesson if his little joke had fallen flat.

Ok, calm down; it might not be near as bad as you think.

He wasn’t listening to his brain. He listened to the illusionist’s reassuring comments that it wouldn’t take too long and groaned again before trudging after her to wherever she was planning to teach him. ”But it’ll be HARD, do I really have to do it? Can’t you just dress up as me and take my place tomorrow??” he begged forlornly. He knew that there was no chance that that idea would work, but he really didn’t want to do this.

”I really don’t want to do this. But I have to.” He frowned again, and sighed in defeat. ”Let’s get this over with then. Where do we start?”

Greg honestly had no clue what he was doing.

[Asana Salvatore]

people change and promises are broken
clouds can move and skies will be wide open

[/size][/center][/color][/i]

Asana noted that he was staring at her for a while. She bit her lip, glancing away with a uncomfortable shrug. She knew she looked different. She knew she looked nothing as he father had raised her to be. Yes, she was still lean, but muscle had been added and her curves had filled out so that she didn't look like a pencil. Her hair was still that thick, silken waves of golden toffee brown, but the white stripe now stuck out from her features. Her eyes, nothing had changed, but fear and a deep weight had dropped themselves in their depths. Her lips were more puffy because she chewed on them most of the time while she thought about certain things or when she hesitated to go meet the other members. The scars? Yeah, she knew they made her look ugly but she accepted that. Asana had really hated her suitors when she had been a rich, spoiled girl. Wear a strapless dress and guys flocked to you like bees and honey. Now, with the scar on her face, and the one on her stomach and leg, they stayed the fuck away from her. They did not like her anymore, and she took that in stride without feeling hurt. She could hide the scars, but they were part of her and she was not ashamed of them.

Asana liked her job as a artist. She truly did because no one had to see her to like her work. The work she made went to a private seller who sold her work and passed the money over to her. She never had to meet the buyers, and that would be best because who would like to buy work from someone as scarred and young as she? When their was a party, she came under another name and watched the people enjoy her work. Parties were not her thing anymore though, and she barely went out because the stares made her sad. Yes, she was a freak inside and out, but sometimes the staring got old. That was why she stayed inside her room all the time because she did not want the other heroes to stare. Out of all of them, she was the only one who had gotten injured. Another reason why she was so weak and vulnerable. The weak link to her team.

Asana noticed how he smirked, and she raised a eyebrow at him. Yeah, she was surprised but who would not be? Asana was ugly now, scarred and she didn't think he would like to be around her. Well, she was happy that at least he had not stared and was actually ok being in her prescence. Maybe the other heroes would accept her and not stare in disgust at her. Well, maybe not. Greg was different from the other's so maybe he could accept things that the other's could not. She felt her spirits sink, and a sad sigh escaped her lips. She could just keep on hoping that she was the same person as she had been so long ago. Wait, it wasn't that long ago she thought with a bitter sadness.

Asana stopped suddenly when he asked her to take his place. She stiffened for a moment then relaxed and moved forth again. No can do. I am not that powerful, Greg. You should know that, I am the weakest link, remember? she said cooly, looking back at him and tapping the scar on her face. She gave him a sad smile before turning and opening the doors to the dance room. She stepped inside and walked tot he middle of the room. She stood there for a moment, head tilted up and basking in the warmth. It is not as hard as it seems. she told Greg, turning back to him with a etheral smile on her face. She looked different now...the music and sunlight having relaxed her and let her actually be herself for once. Flicking her hands, she made both her and Greg hear the sound of tango music in their mind. It was a illusion, but one real enough that they could actually hear and move along with the notes.

Her eyes closed, her brow sweating slightly as she made a male and female dancer appear. They will teach you step by step of the tango dance. I will be your partner. See if you can keep up she gave him a lopsided smile..

”you speaking?”

TAGGED ! [/color]Greg.
LYRICS ! Jar Of Hearts - Christina Perri
WORDS ! Don't know
OUTFIT ! LINKAGE!
CREDIT ! MEELA! on CAUTION 2.0![/font][/size]

[Greg Tawera]

It was true that Greg seemed to be of a fairly different personality type to the others, however, it was highly unlikely that it was in the sense that he could accept things where they were unable to. If anything, Greg was a billion times more narrow minded. He didn’t even like the general idea of humans; he was hardly likely to look on the smaller groups that humanity even picked on with much favour. The reason he didn’t stare at Asana was that she was hardly ugly. It wasn’t as though she was some horrible spectacle that he couldn’t rip his eyes away from as much as he may want to. It was more the opposite. Even with her scars, she was someone he doubted many straight men would avoid looking at. She probably wasn’t getting quite as many wolf whistles in the street now that she’d started dressing practically and in clothes she’d be able to move in if a fight broke out – but really she wasn’t remotely bad looking.

As Asana stopped mid step, Greg’s attention was suddenly called back to what she was saying rather than his own self-pitying thoughts. When she started walking, it was his turn to falter. ” What? You? The ’Weakest link’?”[/b] he scoffed loudly, trying to hold in laughter. ”No way! I would never pick you to be the weakest link!” He let his laughter die down a little and sniffed as he thought. ”No, I’d pick, erm… what’s his name- the Little Mermaid, y’know who I mean. I mean, he has to be near water for his powers to work, doesn’t he? Or even pretty boy – Eric. Nah. You must have something going for you. That scar is just a battle wound that proves it.” And Greg left it at that. He certainly wasn’t the most supportive or encouraging individual. If either Phillip or Eric had heard what he was just saying it probably would have been damaging to some degree simply because of the honesty in his words. He wasn’t really being supportive towards Asana either; merely speaking his thoughts. And besides – the fatigue she got after using her powers was fairly similar to he felt after undergoing a prophetic vision in some ways, so if that was weak, then he was weak too.

The difference in her attitude was noticeable as they entered the room. At first it put Greg a little bit on edge, unsure of how he should react, but then, unbelievably, he found it relaxed him somewhat too. Not very much, but a little bit.

”I dunno, it looks pretty hard from where I’m standing…” he said warily eyeing the room as Asana created the music within their minds. It kind of freaked him out to know that she was in his head, but he knew better than to show it. He sucked it up. After all his trash talking of the others moments ago, he didn’t want to appear weak himself.

As the Romanian worked her magic once again to create two dancers to help the process, Greg felt himself get nervous. He really wasn’t looking forward to this. His eyes flicked back to her as she told him she would be his dance partner. He swallowed hard.

”Yeah… keep up.”

He stepped forward, and taking a deep breath, placed his arm awkwardly around Asana’s back like the illusionary man was holding his partner. He cleared his throat and watched as the other couple began to move, slowly at first so that he could hopefully imitate them. It would’ve looked an odd sight to any on lookers, the gawky, slouching 16 year old, dancing badly with the graceful but strangely dressed woman to no music.

As the others sped up, Greg started to panic more and more. ”Umm, I really don’t know what I’m doing!” By now he was just putting his feet anywhere. Unfortunately this included Asana’s own feet. Good thing he was only wearing his socks.

”Damnit!” He broke away from Asana and rubbed the back of his neck feverously. ”I’m never gonna get this! I haven’t got a clue how to…” He trailed off, annoyed at himself, but mostly the dance. He turned around and looked at he for a moment. ”Ok. Let’s try again. What am I doing wrong?” He stepped back towards her and hoped that this time he’d be better.

(( This is what I'm gonna be using as reference))

[Asana Salvatore]

people change and promises are broken
clouds can move and skies will be wide open

[/size][/center][/color][/i]

Asana smiled softly to herself as Greg did his best to....comfort her. Well, not exactly that word but something like that. He was trying to make her feel better, not let her appear to be the weakest link but she knew she was. Asana knew next to nothing about physical fighting. She could run, yeah, but only whimps ran in battle. Her gift was naturally strong, but with little to no practice beside the first battle, she could not completely control it. Asana was good, ok talented, in bringing out nightmares and horrors from the mind, but she didn't always want to use her gift for bad. She could do petite things like making music and hologram humans appear, but that was still nothing compared to the rest of the group. Well, her self pity was horrible, but Asana was feeling it and she was feeling it strongly. She just wished for the first time in her life that she could fit into a place where there was no need to have this intelligence, this schooling, this amount of money, stature or such. Here, she wished to fit in and be part of the in group but she was kinda worried. Could she actually fit in here when all she knew was money and stature? Most likely not but Asana had to try. There was no use quitting or walking away. She had a job to do, and she would find a place to be one way or another. She had to, because she would not fail to save everyone...espicially her family.

Thank you. It might just be words, but I was really doubting myself she stated, casting a warm smile his way. It tugged at her scar, but the line was faint and hardly noticeable, so she didn't really feel it or notice. Maybe she could become Greg's friend first, so she could understand him then the other's. He was the one who had brought them together, so maybe she could learn a little background information about everyone. She hardly knew where everyone came from, if anyone had been rich like her, what was their race, what they liked, magic, and such. She wanted to get to know these people, become close like friends, maybe as close as a brother or sister. Asana was not much into dating, so no boyfriend/girlfriend information was going to be coming in. She just wanted to see everyone as family. Greg was the start. He was a stubborn it appeared, and a little rough around the edgs but surprisingly she was not scared but happy to began. Weird, I know.

Asana noticed him relax a little and that made her smile. The more relaxed he was, the easier this would be. You could not dance the tango with a stiff body. Relaxing would help you dance with grace and the agility needed. Asana knew teaching Greg might give her blue toes, but she did not want him to embaress himself so she was willing to help him learn to tango. It would be a humoress experience, and might loosen the tight hold she had on herself. He might try to give up a few times, but Asana had a strong will and would not let him leave until he could tango without misshap. Sadly, as she slouching figure and...not really scared but reluctant appearence she knew she had a long day a head of her. Oh well, she would get a couple good laughs out of this. She just hoped no one walked in and made him embarressed or anything. He might not try to work after that.

”I dunno, it looks pretty hard from where I’m standing…”

Asana looked up as he spoke, and she grinned. Her head was pounding already from making the music and dancing figure, but she shooved that aside. This was about teaching Greg how to tango and nothing else. She might have the motherfucker of migranes when she was done, but Asana was ok with that. She had them before, and this time it was a well earned one. A watched him watch the dancers warily, and she could not help but give a soft laugh, accompanied by a cough. She didn't want him to think she was laughing at him. She watched him flick a glance to her, then swallow hard. ”Yeah… keep up.” he said, and I grinned sheepishly. I would go slow on the poor fellow because it would not be nice to go too fast. He had to learn the whole process step by step, which would grate on nerves but would make him a expert dancer by nightfall.

As he placed his hands around her, A spoke softly It will be fine. Don't be to tense She placed one hand on his bicep, the other clasping his hand. She looked into his eyes, and 'pushed' with her mind to make him calm. She knew it was not nice to do so, but she was trying to make him almost feel calm, even though it was a illusion. As they began dancing, A went back in time to where life was not hard. She hummed softly under her breath, moving with the music with serenity. She noticed that Greg got it at first, but when the dance became more complicated he panicked. Wincing slightly as his feet stepped on her own, A thought it would be best to stop. When he broke away with a curse, A stood there and let him rant and think it through. She would not force him to learn how to tango if he did not want to. The tango was complicated, and made some people think it to hard to dance but she knew he had it in him if he tried.

When he asked to try again and what he had done wrong, she gave him a small nod. Ok, first off you are to tense. Try to dance with the music, almost as though it's flowing through you. It might sound crazy, but it works quiet well. Now, I will slow down the dancers, and try to do everything step by step to help you out she murmured, as she started the music over and stepped back into the circle of his arms.

”you speaking?”

TAGGED ! [/color]Greg.
LYRICS ! Jar Of Hearts - Christina Perri
WORDS ! Don't know
OUTFIT ! LINKAGE!
CREDIT ! MEELA! on CAUTION 2.0![/font][/size]

[Greg Tawera]

Greg probably didn’t know a whole lot about the collecting heroes, but unfortunately he most likely knew the group as a whole better than any of the others so far. Give it a bit more time though, and that’d definitely change. For know he could offer up bits and pieces about each of them – areas they were from, a general overview of powers, occasionally there might be something about family still up in his noggin. And the plus side was that he didn’t really care for any of the others’ privacy, so all A would have to do to get the information she wanted, was ask. Of course, Greg might be an awkward person for her to try and make friends with. Obviously, he could be coarse at time (or often), but even if he didn’t hate someone, he usually would take a while to warm up to them to the point where he could chat and banter normally like any average person might do. When Asana thanked him and smiled, Greg was a little bit confused. He hadn’t really been meaning to help her with anything, but, ok. He wasn’t about to question it.

Really, Greg had been lucky that anyone had even offered to teach him how to tango, let alone someone who actually knew how to do it well, like Asana did. If she hadn’t offered, his entire preparation would have been glancing at a youtube tutorial in his locked bedroom once and then giving up.

Greg noticed a slight chance in Asana’s eyes. He knew that look. It was like she was biting back pain. He was aware that the girl got headaches when using her abilities, and was about to ask her if she wanted to sit down or take a rest in a rush of uncharacteristic concern, but he stopped himself before he could speak. He remembered what she’d said about feeling weak, and rethought the whole thing. If she was already doubting herself, it didn’t seem like a good idea to press the idea that she needed looking after into her head further. What good would hurting her already damaged pride do?

Clearing his throat, he glanced away and spoke subtly; “Just out of curiosity… what do you use to get rid of the headaches?” He looked at her with sincere interest. “Coz I know that I get real rippers after my visions. Sometimes worse than just a migraine. Panadol just doesn’t seem to help much anymore, have you found anything better for the pain?” He really did want an answer. The headaches he got after any sort of useful vision were really starting to become a pain in the neck. Er… head. And a few weeks ago he’d tried to force a vision and to make it extra useful. That had ended extremely badly to say the least. If she had some miracle cure, he’d give anything to get his hands on it.

As she told him not to be quite so tense, Greg frowned and tried to relax more. He’d never realised quite how hard it was to relax when you were deliberately forcing it. Then he felt something. A weird calming sensation. He knew it was probably her, and at first he was a little bit angry. It freaked him out to have someone else in his mind, controlling it almost – or at the very least influencing him. It wasn’t something that sat well with him. But as the calm extended, the whole idea of the thing worried him less, and he was able to just accept it and dance. Well, more walk awkwardly with a partner and music in the background then dance, but still.

An eyebrow quirked as he was told to let the music flow through him. Ok. Maybe this whole dancing thing had been a dumber idea than he’d already realised. He nodded as A agreed to slow down the dancers some more.

“Ok,” he took a breath. “Once more and if it doesn’t work, then I’m going back to my killing everyone ever plan.”

He watched closely and the make-believe couple moved slowly around the room. After a while he found himself concentrating more on his breathing and whispering as he moved in time with the music. “Slow step, slow step, quick, quick, slow step…” He was getting much better. He still looked awkward and slightly clumsy, but he was definitely getting the hang of it.

He continued mumbling under his breath the instructions for the dance for quite a long time before he noticed that he’d been doing it at all. He looked embarrassed and lost concentration momentarily. Glancing back down at his feet he mumbled an apology before laughing uncomfortably and trying to get back into the rhythm once more.

“Th- Thanks… for doing this by the way.” Greg wasn’t great at politeness in general, but he got the feeling that he was supposed to be expressing his gratitude for what she was doing to help him. “At least I might actually confuse the bastard who made the bet against me. If I show any remote skill, it’ll be a bit of a win. And if he doesn’t think so, I can always break his nose or something.” Ok, that was probably not the way ‘thankyous’ were supposed to go. He cleared his voice again. ”Yeah, I’m not really any good at asking for help, or saying thankyou, or sorry or anything like that, but there; thankyou. Best I can do, sorry.” He nodded curtly as if to say that that was the end of it.

((Really sorry for the lateness, I had a whole lot of unanticipated crap dumped on me last minute and I couldn't get online))

[Asana Salvatore]

people change and promises are broken
clouds can move and skies will be wide open

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Asana glanced up, meeting Gregs eyes and hers shuttered slightly. She saw what passed to be concern in his eyes, and this made her flinch slightly but she covered it up with a tad of magic as she shifted her gaze away, not wanting him to care about her or the toll the useage of magic was taking on her small frame. She gave Greg a nervous glance, and almost sighed in relief because she saw a decision come to his eyes and he would not question the pain that wracked her mind the longer she used her magic to help him with his project. Asana needed to learn how to wield her magic, how to keep it going even though it was powerful enough to make people scared of her. She wanted to wield it, not because she was a power hungry girl, but because when she mastered the illusionary magic she would be able to protect those beside her, and not being a liability. Asana wanted to thank Greg for not questiong her strength, but she kept that inside her, because it was not her place to speak when he had not commented in the first place. Yet deep inside, her respect for this particular hero grew, and she finally felt as though she had found a friend. Even if Greg did not see her as a friend, she did and that was that.

As he cleared his throat, she glanced at him againa and listened to him as he spoke, asking her about her headaches. Asana winced as she stated That obvious, is it? she joked softly, flicking him a amused glance but it was slightly forced. Her gaze wandered as she listened to the rest of his speech, and she could hear the hope in his head about wishing for a cure against the pain. Asana bit her lip, before she said Well, maybe you could try this mixture that I know of. Mix rosemary, peppermint, feverfew, and some ginko. Use those ingredients to make a tea and drink it whenever you have a headache. It helps me sometimes, and it might be able to help you she said with a small smile, hoping the remedy of medicine could help him, even though her body had already become immune to the pain medicine. Asana didn't know why, but her body quickly made a antidiote for even medication that helped her. It could be a glitch in her genes, but it was a bitch to deal with.

Asana watched as he frowned, and she felt a smile twitch at her lips. She let up with her magic, not about to force him to feel anything to much, because it would not be fair to him. He had to learn to relax on his own, and it was not her right to force him to feel something that he was not feeling on his own. With the drop of power she used on him, the mental backlash slammed into her mind, causing her to wince and miss a step in the dance. Nibbling on her lip, she moved back into the rymth again, and kept her gaze anywhere but where Greg was looking. She did not need him looking out for his best interest or see the burning pain in her eyes. She had promised to help him with the tango, and no matter what, she would make sure he learned and didn't get made fun of by his friends at school. Really, Asana had been bullied at school and teased, and for once she could help someone which made her lighter in heart.

When he spoke of killing everyone plan, a warm laugh escaped her and her body shuddered slightly from the giggle that tried to break free, but she held it in. Asana did not giggle anymore, a laugh was much better. It didn't make her appear weak or such in front of the other members. Killing everyone? Sounds like fun. she teased, glancing up and meeting his gaze with her own. She quirked a eyebrow, a faint smile still on her lips. Really, the idea wasn't that bad, and she should have thought of that when she had been in high school. When he turned back to the couples, she went back to the humming of the music, keeping the rymth in her head even though pain pounded in her temples with every slight movement, and made her want to curse fluently in romanian but she held it back...barely.

Asana listened to his mumbles, and the soothed her mind and she relaxed as well. Her muscles had gone tense from holding the laugh inside and from the pain she tried to keep from showing. When he apologised she chuckled No need to be sorry. It was soothing she replied with complete honesty, before she too looked embarressed and gazed at the floor, not wanting to meet his gaze less he be shocked, disgusted or something at what she had said. When he laughed, she tilted her head slightly, hair falling around her face, white lock slipping against her cheek. Asana flicked the lock a irritated look, one because it was in her face, and two because it was a reminder of a time she went overboard with her power and turned her golden brown hair pure white, or at least that part she did. Bah, her hair would be pure white before she was twenty - five.

Asana glanced up in surprised as he thanked her, because no one had ever thanked her before. They used her skills then turned her back on her, using her for their own gain and leaving her in the shadows. She listened as he explained, and she dipped her head slightly in awknowledgment. Her lashed drifted down to hide her expression as he finished his reply and noticed his nodd, ending the discussion or so he thought. Once again, no need to be sorry or thank me. I am just glad to be able to help you put a friend in place. And, even though you seem to think you can't say sorry, it means something to me. I have been used and discarded without anyone really appreciating my help. I guess this is my thank you in return she flashed him a simple smile, before turning back to the music. NOW it was end of discussion.

”you speaking?”

TAGGED ! [/color]Greg.
LYRICS ! Jar Of Hearts - Christina Perri
WORDS ! ---
OUTFIT ! LINKAGE!
CREDIT ! MEELA! on CAUTION 2.0![/font][/size]