Dancing on the Meatship? Sounds like Risky Business to me.

[killsfengshui.livejournal.com]

The Sensoriums are empty. Everyone's working, you should be nice and alone. You grin to yourself, conjuring a hardwood floor, and a set of stairs.

You grab an object. Could be a wand, a sword, a feather duster, a candlestick. You don't give a shit. You don a loose shirt, a nice set of underwear, and some socks (for those of you who can wear socks).

Finally, you push everything on the stereo all the way to the max. As the piano music starts up, you slide into the doorway.

You're dancing. You're grooving. Hell, you might even be singing.

But part-way into your routine, you realize the horrible truth.

You're not alone. Someone is watching you.

Who is it? What will you do?

Comments

[i-saw-myself.livejournal.com]

"I can--I can do that. I...I..." Hiccup murmured as she started to get a little handsy, his own hands sliding over top hers, guiding them. "I...I am so not...articulate...like this."

Music (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQV9I3Seo2I) kicked on. Helpfully.

I've been really tryin', baby
Tryin' to hold back this feeling for so long
And if you feel like I feel, baby
Then, c'mon, oh, c'mon
Let's get it on--

"Real cute. Music off," Hiccup called out. No distractions.

Where his leg dangled over the arm of the chair, his toes started to curl.

Fade to black, baby. Faaade to black.