Playing with Fire (MadrigalxKyra)

Playing With Fire

PLAYING WITH FIRE

-Diablo Rojo-
Rodrigo y Gabriela

In which Madrigal enters the Rebel Den, and Kyra feels like making an example of her, except Kyra gets way more than they bargained for

-Time Stamps-

Beginning: Beginning
Pull: Chorus 0:26
Across the floor long 2:03
Posturing 2:33- 3:40
Madrigal in charge: chorus

-Start-

The drumbeats taunted her.

It started when they walked in, Kyra's presence as deadly as a jungle cat. Instead of making for the bar, the rebel walked towards the center, the crowd parting like a sea of ants for their leader. This was no place for a Calabrian astra.

Kyra strode backwards, twirling lazily on one foot. The heel of their boots dragged across the ground, mocking Madrigal. They slid off their jacket sensually, tossing it to a nearby grinning woman. Madrigal refused to acknowledge the bid for attention. Kyra preened like a peacock, luxuriating in reclaiming their territory. A quick shift of the hips and the crowd cheered in approval. Clearly, this was popular entertainment around here.

"You owe me a dance." That arrogant smirk might have been attractive for some people, but Madrigal was too focused on winning. She was a Da Vila, one of the most feared astra in all of Calabria. Dancing was in her blood and she'd be damned if she let this rogue make her look like a fool.

The energy of the room pressed into her from all sides. Guitar notes strummed like the warning of a prophet, goading her onto the dance floor. She had no choice. Stares from everyone in the room knowing, judging. Madrigal was powerful, but there were too many people here for her to stand a chance. Nobody cared she was Madrigal of the Da Vila. In this room, surrounded by all sides by enemies, she was prey.

"I don't dance with pagans." Madrigal faked the stone cold bravado of everyone who wore the Da Vila name like a shield. The crowd hissed threateningly.

Kyra simply raised an eyebrow, that horrible grin bearing promises Madrigal hoped she'd never have to answer. "Too bad."

They lunged, snatching Madrigal's arm and pulling her onto the dance floor. Madrigal would have tripped if Kyra hadn't caught her in a dip. Before she had time to regain her footing, they were up again, sashaying across the dance floor.

"Better keep up princess." Kyra called, still mocking her. Madrigal might have almost tripped, but her training kicked in, her feet following the rhythm before her she even knew what it was. Kyra was taller, infuriatingly so, and the positioning forced Madrigal to look into her eyes.

The crowd gasped in shock when Madrigal took the rhythm by its throat and pulled, launching herself into the dance. She stared at Kyra, anger burning in her features as she kept her posture regal as a queen while her hips took the dance floor by storm. Twisting, lashing, she executed the precise turns of the dance with an ease that stunned the room. Kyra spun her and Madrigal rose on her toes like an angel, returning to Kyra's arms without missing a step.

The dance was meant to be a chase, a shifting push and pull between it's partners. Kyra was leading and it forced Madrigal to follow wherever Kyra took them, but she didn't give in that easily. Light as a bird, but quick as a whipping flame, Madrigal matched Kyra step for step while staring daggers into her soul. The heels of her boats tapped out a death rhythm, expressing all the anger that Madrigal herself could not.

"Impressive. . ." Kyra mused. "They were right. You were trained well."

"This is a waste of my talent."