Concept: When They Dance
Angels are graceful, they move with a purpose. It puts prima ballerinas to shame. They flow like liquid, feet en pointe, eyes forward. Legs stretched taut with concentration and their bodies arched with the posture of a soldier.
Fae become one with the music, and this isn’t a fairytale fae circle either. Celtic melodies ring out and they flow faster than a river. There is no such thing as the dance being too feminine, all take part in it.
Demons are odd, mocking the angels in their own twisted way. Actions similar to those of heavenly divinity but dirtier, filthier. Their hips rotate in dirty circles, eyes hooded. Seduction in their gazes, lips curled into smirks.
This is how they dance apart, but when they are together, it becomes a sycophantic mess. They become inticing, especially to the eyes of those who’ve never witnessed such a thing, mortal or not. They weave into one another, sinful grace, eloquence, and thousands of years of ritual all tied in one. It becomes hazardously beautiful.