Post by KoréÉ on Dec 6, 2009 15:56:11 GMT -5
For those that don't have an idea of what bboying is
;;Outfit;;
Zoée bounced on the points of her feet in the early morning hours of the day. It was very, very cold, yet she still wore thin clothing, because as soon as she started dancing, she'd get very, very hot. The large square of cardboard was pinched underneath her arm, covered in scuff marks and small tears. Next to here feet sat her boombox, the cassette player converted to be able to connect to and play songs from her iPod, currently set to play Beastie Boys, Black Sheep, Certain Ration and 7th Wonder. At ten o'clock, she plugged the box into an outdoor outlet, and threw down the cardboard square, beginning to stretch. Zoée then flipped to Black Sheep’s song, The Choice Is Yours, and started skipping about, getting the beat into her head and body. As soon as the lyrics started up, she spun her leg up, tucking down so when her shoulder made contact with the ground, she fell into a windmill for a few beats before pulling out and lying on her back, rolling up onto her tiptoes, dropping into a ball, and bouncing back out again. She spun her leg up again, now falling back into a backbend, then lifting her body weight onto her arms, her legs twisting before she dropped one arm to her elbow and flipped out of it.
Zoée kept up her spur-of-the-moment routine as the song blurred into the Beastie Boy’s Sabotage, where she froze, her arms held at right angles, feet spread and head down. As soon as the beat was back in her, she switched both of her arms to form a “C” on one side, jerking her head up to grin at anyone there, and spun her hands and arms in intricate patterns to the middle of her body, then pulling them in and rolling her body as if she had been hit, falling back and doing a matrix-like move. When that song began to blur into Public Enemy’s Don’t Truss It, Zoée kicked the box, collapsed with exaggerated movement and pressed the stop button on her iPod. Her limbs were slightly warm, but her head was burning with the cold. She sagged against the wall, looking about her. It seemed like the people were purposely ignoring her. She knew that many people figured she performed for many – which was slightly true – but she also preformed for the enjoyment of others. And no one seemed interested today. She scowled, tapping her fedora hat with her foot, the place where she collected her money. This was going to be a slow day.
