@alina-hennigar
Date: Sunday, July 11th, 1920 Time: Around 10:00 PM Location: The back lawn of the Zora Estate
It all looked and felt like something out of another era. The members of the collective came from all places and from various time periods, and somehow, that was palpable in the air. With their oil lamps around, on the open lawn of the estate, playing their festive music, it felt like the people of Zora were inside a timeless bubble that belonged only to them. Alina loved dancing even though she knew she was far from being the most graceful dancer, and without her cane it was hard to keep up with melodies that had a quicker rhythm. But she always danced with a smile on her face, irradiating pure merriment. As the song came to and end the dancing couples broke away from their partners and formed circles, holding hands. “Come on!” the samodiva grinned to some of the people that were just standing there watching. “Come dance with us!” Alina said as she locked eyes on one person and beckoned them to leave their boring spot in the crowd to instead join the celebratory fun.
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It’s been quite some time since she’s actively taken part in a celebration. Evanna can’t even remember when that last was if she tries, she vaguely recognizes while standing by the wayside. She’s borne witness to many, of course, between the jazz club and the antics within Zora. But gone are the youthful, carefree days of frolicking on dance floors and drinking to giggly intoxication. Or so she thinks, anyway, as she stands quietly by the side of the dance floor with drink in hand. Her only drink of the night before she takes the trek home, she surmises. At least she’ll be able to say truthfully that she was in attendance, however brief that attendance may have been. Evanna has just begun to look for her escape route when a dancer bumps into her and causes her gaze to turn around and – fortunately or unfortunately, she can’t be sure – meet with that of a younger samodiva. The girl immediately ushers her to dance, of course, but Evanna stammers some. “Oh, ah...” The woman falters a moment, green eyes darting. The fact of the matter is that she has no partner. Hasn’t for some time and likely never will again, in fact. But that doesn’t seem to matter at present as the throng of dancers are suddenly ushering her to join their ranks. As her arm is hooked without hesitation by another and she’s swung into the frolic, Evanna blinks hard. Despite her best attempts – and she would, really, like to think that they were valiant – she does stumble eventually. With a laugh that sounds equal parts hesitant and exhilarated, she collides with the younger woman who had called to her. “Seems to me that I’m not very good at this anymore,” the elder samodiva confesses, still managing another laugh despite herself. “Best if I go, maybe.”














