khiariofmedes:
In wake of the atrocity that had occurred on Valtolia’s soil, there was no better way to uplift spirits than with a festival. After all, no one partied harder or better than those occupying the Medesi islands. Although they never truly had a winter in Medes, the first quarter of the year passing was reason enough to celebrate. Their Spring Carnival that was essentially a prelude to the summer nights of praising Maren through music, dance and fellowship.
The fireworks exploded against the dark sky helping to further illuminate the beach along with it’s torches, lanterns and the glowing sea rolling onto the shore. Fantastical costumes, bejeweled and feathered with the baring of as much skin without being completely indecent; the shores were populated with natives and those who traveled to escape in the mood and rhythm of music banging in the air with an orchestra of horns, wind instruments, wooden percussion and steel and bass drums conjuring infectious beats to get feet stepping and bodies grinding.
This was what his people needed and Prince Khiari was more than thrilled to be back on his feet. Between the Manticore attack and the beef that his eldest brother had decided to draw up against their father, this party that expanded for miles and the drinks he’d been nursing on all night were extremely liberating from the nuisance of reality’s troubles. His lips wrapped to the rim of a pineapple that’d been shaved and hollowed out filled with the contents of fruit nectar and rum to chug down while the drummers began a cadence. Muscular thighs slipped from the gold trimmed teal sarong tied tight to his waist and struggled to remain secured with the languid winding of his hips.
Though that didn’t stop the prince from feeling eyes on him as he finally peered in the direction of the person watching him dance. “…Ayyyye, come on. This isn’t one of those trite Valtolian or Bergian ballrooms. If you’re not going to put your whole body into this, why are you even here?” he chuckled before extending a freehand. “Come to me.”
(music for mood aye )
Of course, there were those who’d taken the sidelines. Those nobles who chose to entertain themselves with the sounds of their own voices. Then there were nobles that begun to interest themselves with gossip. Unlike the sound of their voices, Saryn involved himself with watching the constant commotion. He clutched his own hands and began to distract himself with the water. He sighed softly. Just the atmosphere was enough to bring him into a heightened state of pride in his own people. The island was so powerful, in more ways than just the mere sight of the people. Their spirit was undeniably cast to stand the test of time. He watched his brothers move about though he paid them little mind. He knew they were here to enjoy themselves so why not give them the space they needed.
“Huh,” Saryn spoke up when he heard the voice be thrown in his direction. Halfway through a sticky sweet, succulent mango. Eyes sought the one speaking and immediately sighed when he saw Khiari trying to lure the younger of the two onto the torchlit platform. “I...,” Saryn knew it was little fight to be had with him. He stood, letting his sarong slowly fall back into place. He sighed again. He didn’t want these people to see him in this light but it was better to let them see him let his hair down. It was time to show them how the Myre boys enjoyed themselves. The beat started to flow through his belly and his hips slowly rocks, waist rolling in a subtle circle. His eyes rolled as his chest began to rise and fall with the rhythm. It worked from his feet up to his shoulders as the split in the fabric part. Thighs work the residual energy as he swayed. He kept his butt from moving too much as a factor of self-esteem. “I’ll dance right here.” Though he compared very little to the larger male, he had enough to really have a light of his own. He just really complimented him.
He finally smiled.
