olympia (nagina) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-01-03 01:18:00 |
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The Capitolite looks intrigued as Olympia snaps the anklets onto her delicate, tiny ankles. "Is this an instrument?" Olympia has to reign in the instinct to snort derisively. They jangle and tinkle, but to hear someone ask if they are instruments? Insulting. Her mother would have gasped in shock or, much more amusingly, told the Capitolite just what she thought. Luckily, Olympia has the sense to shake her head and smile. "No, they're bells. To help with rhythm." She doesn't tell her the name her grandmother used at home-- she can't remember the word very well and she doesn't care to say it in this company. But it's rather funny, to be giving this dance lesson. The woman doesn't have rhythm in the slightest, she doesn't listen to instructions very well, and most hilariously, she can't pull facial expressions worth a damn, not with how stretched her skin is. Olympia is only happy to receive payment, and to do something that she finds, well, relaxing. When it's all said and done, she reaches down and the woman says, "I could give you five hundred more if you let me keep them." Her fingers freeze and instinctually, she feels anger curl in her stomach-- these are not for a woman with a pinched face and bugged out eyes with powder blue skin. But five hundred more is five hundred to spend. She refuses to look up as her fingers tie the bells back. She has to force cheer in her voice as she answers, "Of course! But I'd like to continue the lessons, to make sure they're well used." To her relief, the woman agrees. Still, going home that night, she feels like leaving them was a betrayal of some kind. It bothers her up until the money is spent, and the tribute lives for another three days. |