Serge (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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melodiesofeternity2018-10-10 10:31 pm
timecrash) wrote in melodiesofeternity2018-10-10 10:31 pmEntry tags:
timecrash) wrote in melodiesofeternity2018-10-10 10:31 pm
Graveyard Smashing
He looks around at the evening, seemingly unbothered by the cloying fog that hangs around everywhere. "Still, they don't seem to be too hostile. This could be fun!"
Re: Graveyard Smashing
Serge groans. “Mochi, no…”
Mochi giggles, looking up at the human. ”Would that make him the Boogie Mog?”
“Uuuuuugh.”
Any further arguing is interrupted, however, by the presence of a small, translucent moogle, standing in the street, wearing impossibly thick glasses and a bloodstained white lab coat. ”Help… me…”
Serge stops cold, looking down at the creature, before kneeling with a smile. “Hey there. I’m Serge and this is Mochi. We heard you needed help, so that’s what we’re here for, okay? What do you need?”
The deceased moogle twitches slightly, taking a step closer. ”The dance. So perfect. I never learned…”
Serge remembers this. “That’s right, you wanna learn how to dance. I think the Dancer’s guild is nearby, I can help you find them!”
There’s a violent shaking of the head. ”No… only one dance will do. It was so popular. I wanted to learn, but there was never time…”
”What dance are you talking about.? Neither of us are the best dancers, but we can try!”
The moogle sighs. ”I was so busy, there was never time… If only I could master the Mogster Mash, then I’d be the life of the party…”
Serge and Mochi share a look. ”Did you just say…”
“The Mogster Mash?” The spectral moogle looks on in confusion, as the pair turn their backs in whispered conversation.
“Sure we should do this?”
“It’ll be fine, he’ll love it-”
“-haven’t done it since the Incident-”
“-more than two years ago it’s fine-”
“-ban us from all future-”
The two turn back, and Serge grins. “Congratulations, mister moogle. You get to be witness to the greatest dance craze ever.”
”Sure, we might not have done this since the freshman talent show, but it’s just like riding a bike, right?”
It takes a few moments for Serge to dig up the old audio file on his iMog. And then they’re standing, side by side, backs turned to the ghostly moogle… and the music starts to play.
”I was working in the lab, late one night, when my eyes beheld an eerie sight.
My mogster from his slab, began to rise, and suddenly, to my surprise…”
”He did the mash!”
It’s… it’s bad. Surely there can’t be anybody that bad at dancing. If anybody from the Dancer’s Guild is watching this, they’d best avert their eyes. Or plug their ears, if a Bard is watching. But in between the enthusiastic-if-terrible dance moves and the horribly off-key ’Kupooooo!’s, the ghostly moogle at least seems to be getting into it.
By the end of it, both Serge and Mochi have lost any ability to take the scene seriously. There’s laughing, there’s stumbling, the last pose is badly mistimed, and by any account the entire affair is a miserable failure. Why, then, is it that everybody seems to be laughing?
”You said you did this at a talent show? What on earth did you win?”
“Dead last!” Serge beams. “Crowd loved it, though.”
”Ahaha… I don’t… think that was very good, to be honest. But if you’re right, I’ll definitely be the life of the party with moves like those… thank you. I haven’t laughed like that in… well, ages.”
”Not a problem, kupo! I guess you could say I hope you knock ‘em dead.”
There’s a very undignified snort that dissolves into giggles, fading into silence as the spectral moogle fades at last into the mist. Serge can’t help but feel that he’s done good, tonight.