Need The Fix

The blue and grey drake had a black pair of headphones perched precariously in the middle of his large, tufted ears. He is rocking out majorly, his head bouncing to the beat, his feet tapping away. Throwing his arms out, he began waving them in the air, mouthing the lyrics of the song. Lowering his hands after only briefly swinging them, he pretended to dramatically play an air piano. So into his own little world, he fails to notice the growing congregation of anthropomorphic critters stopping to watch this strange and downright hilarious sight.

Raising his hands out and flexing them into a claw like pose, the drake began flicking them up and down and from side to side as he turned first one way, and then the other. Speeding up, he curls his hands into fists and punches the air rapidly. A goofy grin is plastered on his face and his eyes are closed as he gets into the groove. Swaying back and forth, he started stamping his feet on the ground, mimicking a walk as he stays stationary, arms gyrating up and down in time to his movements.

All in all, his dance moves left a considerable amount to be desired. Clearly, judging by how he's doing it, this drake has no concept of doing it properly since it seems to comprise of a bunch of moves pulled from pop culture music videos and just spastic flailing in general. Nevertheless, it does provide for an entertaining spectacle. Jerking his body around, the drake imitated the jerky, sporadic moves of a robot. Considering how much hilarity he is generating in those who are watching, it would seem unfair to interrupt his dance showcase.

Now into some serious headbanging, his exaggerated movements become more subdued as he slows down, head bobbling gently. No doubt fatigued and quickly overheating from such exertion. His pointed tongue escapes his maw as he pants, exhausted. Wiping a hand across his scaly forehead, he opens his eyes and pulls the headphones off, letting them rest around his collar bone. Only then does he get the feeling of many eyes on him.

Swallowing, he slowly turns to face the audience gathered before him. Reddening, he attempts to shrink down into himself. "Uh...hi." He manages a weak wave. "I'm Fenix. You can call me Fen if you like." His grin becomes sheepish. "Uh...I was just listening to some dubstep Nightcore." A shy chuckle, clearly forced on his part. "Nice to meet you. Feel free to say hi back." He looks thoughtful. "If you want to RP, just ask. I'm pretty relaxed. If you want to know more, feel free to ask as well."

Another nervous chuckle. "Uh...I...guess that's all...um...according to the Myers-Briggs personality type, I am an ISFP. I am a Libertarian, according to the political compass. Uh...not sure what else to say. So, yeah..."