Is this truly the focus of the City? ( There is a pained yelp in the background and then a nasty thud. ) Do you have no pride?!

Do not touch me! ( No yelp or thud resounds this time. Instead, the sound of pavement cracking under the force of a blade and great wings flapping follows that warning.

. . . ) Foolish humans. I am in no mood to dance.

( Truthfully, she has never been in the mood to dance. )

Can't you see there are greater matters to attend to?! Why are you so complacent? ( And sparkly. ) Like cattle to the slaughter.

I know there is more to you than this! ( The sound of fabric being ripped ends the feed.

Somewhere in the City, a glittery costume is falling from the heavens. )

[The feed turns on, showing Estelle with her hair pinned up and wearing this dance costume. While she's not really in the mood to dance, wearing this dress really makes her want to. It sounds like too much fun not to!

So she's in the square, with the fountain behind her if only to pinpoint her location.]

Um, I was wondering if anyone would like to dance with me? I have a radio with some CDs, as I believe they're called. I'm rather familiar with ballroom dancing, so I'll try to match whatever you would want to do!

[She ends the feed with a smile, and a wave.]

[ Stiles is pretty much in a tree right now if the way he's picking leaves off his hoodie are anything to go by. That and the totally dark and green backdrop to his video feed. It's neat, it's like an emo music video. Because he climbed it and it became his kingdom and he's not coming down for love nor money. (Maybe for money, he could buy video games to drown out the sounds of training and incessant inner monologue he's got going on right now.)

But he's settled, and it's nice, has been surfing through the network for an hour mostly. It's amusing him, but he still kind of feels apart from it out here in the freaking forest. Maybe he'll befriend a Chipmunk. Maybe he'll go insane and become a lumberjack. He has enough plaid. ]

Does anyone feel like bringing me popcorn? I think it's like the only thing that will make this sparkly sequined samba fest worthy of it's ten point status. [ Another leaf gets plucked from his shoulder and thrown down, Stiles swinging his feet for a moment. Maybe he could lumberjack leaf by leaf. ] Though if I see any foxes doing the trot, you guys might have to bring me a shotgun. [ Miming shooting himself in the face. ] Or a lawyer. Haven't Disney copyrighted the dancing animal routine? Hey, does anyone know if Matt Murdock lives in the City? How cool would that be? Does anyone else ever get Matt Damon and Ben Afleck mixed up? Maybe they're pod-people, jesus.

[ Man, he misses Scott. He's the only one who'd come and follow his rambling. ] If somebody doesn't end up crying into their lycra covered lives, I'm going to be so disappointed in this curse, just saying.

We're to perform tonight and I can't find my partner.

I really shouldn't be surprised by this by now.

I ought to have suspected--or even known--yesterday when she was distraught over her dress that, sooner or later, we'd find ourselves separated. I still don't understand what all her concerns were about. This is, after all, about dancing and not about costuming. She'd probably claim I've the benefit of simplicity: I only need to wear tails and I'm finished. She, meanwhile, must endure a host of difficulties--beginning with fabric and progressing from there. It's a proper litany of things. There are problems with her costumes that I have never even heard mentioned as problems before. It's as though she has no consideration of the actual event, of actually dancing. I think, sometimes, that she honestly does not think beyond what she's wearing.

I shall never understand it.

I was, in fact, left to practice by myself for a time yesterday, while she fussed over her gown. The idea of dancing alone might work well enough for novelists, but I do not recommend it the day before a performance. We've been practicing for far too long to risk things like this. I, for one, am appalled.

And she insists that she doesn't lose.

I suppose we shall have to see in that regard.

If anyone has seen the charming lady who is my partner for this evening's performance, please do tell her that I should like to see her (and all her radiance) sometime before this evening's performance.

And then, perhaps, I shall audition for a new partner.

~C.

[ooc: Cain and Berthier are to be dancing tonight, but they've ended up more separated than anticipated--Cain has, perhaps, wandered off in frustration. Yeah, he's being bitchy about his dance partner, let's not lie. Not like he's some paragon himself either. They may dance well together, but...]

[VOICE]

Goodness, these really aren't very-- [a small huff as too-tight fastenings are fastened] --terribly comfortable, are they? Oof!

Now, Crowley, do remember to smile, won't you? If you're-- oof!-- frowning... These shoes, really! Well, the judges won't look twice if we look miserable.

Now, er. What does one say to dancers for luck?

[ooc; their dance routine can be seen in this video. YES, IN THOSE OUTFITS.]

[The video comes on accidentally. Jimmy's too angry to even notice he pushed the button.]

Where the fuck am I? I want some goddamn facts.

[In his frustration, he drops the camera to the ground, then bends down to scoop it up, giving everyone a look at his irate expression. It sounds as though he's talking to himself, unaware that anything is broadcasting.]

It doesn't make a difference why they did this. Doesn't make a difference at all. I'm gonna find them.

[A few seconds later, he approaches the first person he sees on the street, reaching out to grab at their shoulders, catching their eye.]

Who are you? Who do you work for? What, you too scared to talk?

[[OOC: You can either be one of the unlucky people seeing his grumpy video... or, if you want, you can be the unfortunate one getting questioned on the street. This is a great way to make friends, really.]]