Knife (Non-TEF)

"You know if they find out, I'll lose this place."

"They'll never see me."

The smaller of the two wove around him, there one moment and gone the next, giggling to himself as his masked companion turned this way and that trying to catch a glimpse of him. The dancer smiled, hiding behind the velvet curtain in the shadows.

"See? I'm right here, talking to you, and you can't even see me."

"You never stand still."

"I do sometimes."

And then they were both very still as the dancer rose up behind the plumed man, embracing him lovingly as he held a small, switchblade knife to the paler's throat.

"Sometimes I stand still, see?"

The taller closed his eyes, smiling, feeling the blade pressing gently against his skin.

"You'll be the end of me."

"I know."



Need (non-TEF)

"You can't go."

"I have to. I'm not staying here."

"Please--please--"

"It's me or this place. Your choice."

"Don't do this to me! I can't choose, you know I can't choose!"

"Yes you can."

The dancer moved closer to him, face half-hidden by that pretty silver, gold and blue mask, quiet eyes set on the conflicted man opposite him. The man whose face was masked in black, and gold, and dark feathers. The smaller smiled weakly at him.

"I won't hate you if you choose to stay."

"I can't leave. I can't go back to what I was before."

"Then I'll see you again, in another place, another time."

"Song--no, no, Song, please, I need you, I need you."

They were closer now, almost touching, but every time the dark-masked one moved further forwards, the lighter swept quickly backwards. Rejecting him silently.

"It's okay. It's okay, Sans, it's okay. You'll be alright."

"I won't! I won't be alright, I can't--please, don't go, don't go!"

But he was gone.



Instrument (non-TEF)

Sometimes, the taller, plumed one would play piano, and the smaller, light-masked one would dance. They would remain in silence aside from the piano keys, and the light touch of foot on wooden floor. Sans would compose melodies, and Song would dance to them.

"You know you're the best dancer we have."

"Perfectly aware."

"So modest."

"There's no use in lying, is there?"

"Sometimes it's better to lie."

"Do you lie?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you lie to me?"

"No."




Answer (non-TEF)

"I've always loved you. Before you met him, before you came here and he stole you away. I've always loved you. I wanted to tell you, you know, when we were sitting by the lake and you asked me to hold you because you were cold. I wanted to tell you then, and I didn't. I should have."

He smiles, wryly, at the face before him.

"Maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe he wouldn't live in fear and you wouldn't have to hide. If you were with me, you wouldn't have to keep it a secret from anybody. No-one would bat an eyelash, would they? But because he's rich, and you're poor, and he's from royalty and you're from poverty, and he's the owner of that damned place and you're just one of the dancers, you have to hide it. It wouldn't be like that with me, love."

His gaze turns away.

"I'd take you out in public. I'd hold your hand. I'd kiss you. I wouldn't be scared to, either."

A long, miserable pause. The room is silent for a few seconds.

"I wish I'd never helped you get here. If I'd known that you'd leave me behind as soon as you had what you'd always wanted, I'd never have offered to help you. I wanted you to follow your dream, but I didn't think I'd feel like this for you. I didn't think you'd captivate me, only to throw me away when you couldn't use me to your advantage anymore. Was it your intention all along?"

Swan chuckles.

"I thought you might love me, for a while. When we were closest. Just before we got here, and we spent about a week in some crooked, abandoned building because we had nowhere else to go, didn't know where we were going anymore. You were so sweet to me then. I thought I had a chance. But of course, I never said anything. Always too scared. Always too late."

A shuddering intake of breath. He lets it back out.

"I watched your final dance, too. I thought you were beautiful even then. You were crying by the end, because you knew you'd never dance on that stage again. You knew you'd never see your forbidden plumed love, either. I recall you kept your fear and sorrow hidden from him."

The feather-haired man shakes his head, and turns away from the mirror he's been standing infront of throughout his confession - a confession that will never reach the subject's ears.

"I'll never find an answer now."