Author: Mokkeaia PM
The story starts with that mysterious dancer visits Boober. No really shipping, more about friendship. Three parts, last one has a chance to be revised.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Supernatural/Friendship - Boober & Mokey - Chapters: 3 - Words: 5,522 - Reviews: 2 - Updated: 01-03-13 - Published: 08-25-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7321165
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Boober was having fun with his friends down at Fraggle Rock. However, having fun can mean different things for different persons. Boober doesn't want extremely active fun which Red enjoys then and now. The Dancer showed Boober that dance is a gem for him. He did not forget her, nor did he forget to practise dance more. Sometimes, when it's late and majority of Fraggles sleep, he plays with random objects. His pas with radish looked both hilarious and charming. He sought a partner, and it was evidently a pain for him. His dancing part of life was hidden, and it didn't appear to be released yet. He thought that none of his friends will truly understand him. Red and probably Gobo are most likely to laugh at him. Mokey is overreacting at things; he was afraid that she'll praise him aloud and speak all the time about it. She is not trustworthy enough to keep such secrets. His close friend Wembley won't make a good dancer, Boober thought. He isn't a good keeper of secrets as well – Gobo can break him easily if his target is to discover it. He knew that it is the best to say nothing at this time.
One lonely evening Boober was filled with angst. He couldn't dance. Music usually flies in air over the rock, it makes him dance. Tonight he could not hear anything but slow and unhurried music like never ending rainy day, grey and cold. The only way to move to these sounds is staying at one place, both waiting for and despising the feel of night. "I could go to bed earlier so I will wake up earlier…" thought Boober. He sat on his sleeping place and felt that he doesn't want to sleep at all. "Why, Dancer, why? I want to have my fun evenings with you! You said you'll come anytime I call!" He was apparently very sad. Sorrow and his urge to do something drove his sleep away for a long time. It's was such a torture for Boober.
"Ah?" exclaimed Boober. Someone entered his hall. "Oh, hi, Boober! You are still awake, aren't you?" asked Mokey.
"Well, yes… I can't sleep". He had a fixed look on her for few seconds, as if he was pondering, is she worth to know.
"Boober, you know, I couldn't sleep until I finish my newest oil painting. You should see it – I think it's my best work in oil so far. Ah, I visited you because… I thought you had some turpentine to wash my brushes? Can you do me a favour? I'm very tired now! I'll be so glad" sang Mokey. "Sure, good night, Mokey". – "Good night, Boober!"
At least, there's some activity now, Boober thought. It's better than suffer from sleepless night.
He took brushes and put them on a corner of bath where turpentine awaited them. He wondered, what work has she done? What was that painting Mokey talked about? His imagination went wild: from a little cute landscape of the pond to powerful image of a Fraggle who does the right job in his life. "Maybe I need a hobby like drawing?" He found an empty space on his wall and set it up like a canvas in his imagination. There was some paint on Mokey's brushes – that was enough for Boober. One brush had dark paint of its tip. Boober painted a broad line, which was supposed to be that chiffon piece on Dancer's eyes. He questioned himself again, what colour is she? He tried to feel it rather than understand. Another bigger brush had light colour – mix of grey, pink and a tad orange. Perfect. Boober saw it exactly so. It's appeared that his eyes see colours in a very peculiar way that only experienced artist can succeed in. Lack of skills was evident only when it comes to shapes. He tried hard, but his outline style failed to pass whole image. Boober was satisfied with outcome. However, the same fear of doing creative activity blamed Boober for it, and he had to cover this wall with something (he chose blanket).
He was ready to sleep. "Oh, it's so cold without blanket…"
In very early morning guitar sounds woke him up. He recognised music of Dancer's musician. He was sitting on the floor in Boober's hall, making amazing sounds from his instrument. Boober related it to the sea. It was time of saying hi to someone. There was flight rather than moving after sounds. It was sunrise, definitely.
"Where's Dancer?" asked Boober. As he suspected, music immediately stopped – there are no words and music together in musician's world. "She is here," answered musician.
From darkness of morning, stepping carefully yet confidently, as if hovering like a ghost, Dancer Fraggle came. Boober could not smile more sincere ever before. He rushed into her. "I'm so glad you came" whispered Boober. He did it to warm his cold arms. Dancer smiled – it was a rather forced smile. Musician was playing the same melody.
As they blended with each other, Boober could think, he has no colour too. He was with Dancer, and she was only for him in that moments. He is now a better dancer, everything should go right. They whirled, moved step by step to musician, and back. Flawless movements of Dancer enchanted. Music stopped, so pair had time to rest a little.
"You're beautiful, you're truly beautiful!" Boober praised his partner. She sat by his side; her heart beat regularly – it was impossible to tell that she has just actively moved. Boober's heart beat rapidly, and it may be not exercising as the only reason of it.
"You were practising it, weren't you?" asked Dancer, much indifferently as always. "Yes… I don't have other dance partner than you…" whispered Boober, assuming that it was hint. She answered nothing. Boober moved a little closer to her. "Can you come more often? Please?" Dancer didn't answer again.
Music started. Boober's body was free, he enjoyed the dance, but inside, it made him disappointed slightly. New music was slow. He imagined a ball setting, where his partner is no better than a doll, emotionless and perfect, responding to every single wish. She danced for the highest goal, not because of her pleasure, not to bring pleasure to others. This thought tortured him. Music fastened. They circled round and round, from musician to Boober's sleeping place. All colours blended together; nothing had colour. Boober got a headache. He removed his arm from Dancer shoulder and turned his head towards the entrance. Like in slow motion, Mokey entered the hall, showing her scared face. She screamed. Music stopped.
After few hours, Boober came to senses. He breathed broken and looked up. Mokey was sitting by his side. Saying nothing, Boober looked at her with a question. She nodded.
"You met Dancer Fraggle... How?" asked Mokey. Boober noticed that she is still scared as her eyes were widened. He compared her to Dancer, that ruthless creature that knows no emotion. Mokey can be imperfect; actually, she has a lot of flaws. He remembered her scared face when she entered his hall. Unkempt hair, awkward clothing. She looked nothing like flawless doll which always look dainty and charming (except for when she's interrupted). And Mokey is what he wants to see. He wants to see her fear, angst, annoyance, and, of course, joy, blooming, happiness. She does mistakes, and it makes her so lively, so warm, even if her body is cold. Mokey can reveal his secret, so can Wembley. Red can laugh at him, and it won't make her a monster. He should be not ashamed of himself for liking dance. It's better to face the critique than hide and live with someone who won't talk with him or appreciate his being. He looked into worried face of mere Fraggle, and then back in no particular direction. He decided to let her know everything since Dancer came to him. She carefully listened to his speech and nodded from time to time to comfort him.
"You know… If anyone discovers, they'll laugh! Don't tell Red… She'll laugh too hard at me. Please, Mokey. Will you laugh?" Boober cried, going straightly into Mokey as he usually does in despair. "Does it look like I am even smiling, Boober? Of course, if you wish is not to reveal it… I'll keep the secret, I promise." – "Do you swear with the Solemn Fraggle Oath?" – "I do." Mokey recited the Oath. Boober significantly calmed down. "Boober, I know a legend about Dancer Fraggle…" Mokey whispered. Boober stared at her with a question; he shivered. "It's a legend in a poem. Sorry if it's not quite accurate, Boober.
From founder Fraggles she came;
No one was brave to take her fame.
She danced and Dancer was her name.
She lost all her range of emotions;
She had no other options,
Dark piece worked like thousand potions.
Unholy Fraggle girl was unreal;
One meets her, she becomes one's ideal...
Apparition can't see behind its deal.
She's doomed to live forever
Making to newest dancers a favour;
Through eternity, looking for clever..."
Boober was staring into space again, trembling slightly. "It is what she was, Mokey… She read my mind. Wow, it sounds so scary now! But then I wasn't scared, really, I wasn't! By the way, where did you get to know the legend?" – "I don't remember. Someone just told me, that's all. Don't worry, little Boober. She won't come unless you called her." Mokey sang and comfortingly put her arm over Boober's shoulder. She smiled genuinely and hugged Boober. "Ah, I see, you wanted to dance. That's why she came, and that's why she went away – you weren't enjoying it, were you, Boober?" asked Mokey. "Exactly." – "Well, if you want to dance… why, I could be your partner!" suggested Mokey, tightly holding Boober's hands.
She left his hall. Boober was anticipating upcoming evening. Mokey promised to come to dance with him (or, may be, just a possibility… Will they just have fun together?). He also asked her to take some oil paint and brushes – however, he didn't mention for what. He took the blanket away. Oil didn't dry yet. Great! Now, there should be one change. Only few changes. "Finally there will be a portrait of her."