Log:Dance-off Gone Wyld
| Dance-off Gone Wyld | |
|---|---|
| Participants
Franklyn, C.B. Alexander, Mina, Beatrice, Green, Kip, Mireille, November, Haruki Annabeth as ST |
20 July, 2017 A wholesome dance-off turns into an orgy/riot. |
| Location
Riverside District | |
| 7/20/2017
An area has been cordoned off for safety, and posters of Michael Jackson in Thriller getup, movie posters from such classics as Grease, West Side Story and The Lion King, are scattered around for inspiration. An older radio with cassette deck and CD player is set on a table, in case an instrumental backup is required. Between rounds, it plays a loop of songs from famous musicals. Several areas are set up with video cameras, and hastily made backdrops for selfies. Scattered around are encouragement to take selfies, post videos, and use hashtags #Danceoff, #Ev6Battle, #Team6, #GossipGirl4Eva among several others.
Annabeth, in full-on party planning mode, is wandering around covered in buttons like there's a 'pieces of flare' minimum. "Alright y'all!" She calls out, "We'll be doing the first round of the dance off starting in just a few minutes. Enid supporters, you're over here on the right. Number 6 folks, y'all are here on the left. Now just take your time, no rush, find yourself a nice bit of space. If you're with a team, make sure everyone's on the same side, right?" Some dance, some film the dancers, and the really tall Russian woman in the tracksuit just stares at them with crossed arms. Beatrice isn't giving any sign of approval, any sign of satisfaction. It is the expression Russian judges are famous for. Do better. Impress me. Her nostrils flare and she gives a sharp snort at one of the less skilled dancers having a mis-step. Always watching, always judging, always looming. If only people could see in her mind to know what she is actually thinking about is why people eat chicken with waffles but not with pancakes. Red hair pulled into a ponytail, nice and sleek. The dress? White and black, brushing the tops of her thighs, sleeveless. With the knee-high black boots, it's all so very mod, as are the sunglasses perched atop her head. The crowning glory, of course, being the #6 pin, proudly in place. Mina is watching the kids as they dance, though her gaze frequently moves about, as if she's looking for...something? Someones? Not the man by her side, though, as she's already there with C.B., lingering close to the author. The observant might notice, in the crowd, a half dozen women dressed similar to Mina, though in their own colors. Spread out, so that no two are in the same space. C.B. wears a fitting black t-shirt today, under a black and white plaid shirt: AGITATE, it reads. Red Sox cap on, no messenger bag today, no indication of which side he supports, the author frowns, arms folded, as he follows along after Mina. Boy, he is in full grumpus mode today. His eyes flit to the various women who look like Mina around, but he doesn't ask Mina about it. Too busy being full grumpus. Haruki's here to dance! He loves dancing, it's fun! He's not picking sides. He might not even know what the sides are for. But he's looking around the crowd for any faces he might know. Who's that giiiirl? It's Frank! Is Franklyn here by accident, or to cause a scene? Hard to tell -- although judging by the fact she's wearing a maxi-length summer dress of a cream-and-red roses print, with a cropped but Oh So Totally Vintage leather biker jacket festooned with about a dozen pins that say 'E'? Probably the latter. Look at her, all smiling and laughing and so expressively gleeful at the Drama Of It All. The mortal girl is striding through the crowds, followed by a puff of smoke from a cigarette - held at shoulder height, all the better to avoid burning passers by as she gesture widely as she waves at various townsfolk in the crowd. In the crook of Franklyn's arm is a big black bag, and in her other hand? An iPhone. Occasionally she stops, and yes, takes a photo -- not of herself! Of the /crowd/. This is about =the people=. Even if Franky sashays around like small town royalty... Kip's walking back from the park near the riverbank edge, messenger bag diagonally over him and a newspaper in one hand, phone in the other. He pauses a distance away and holds the phone up like he's taking a picture of the scene before trudging further toward it, seeming to be on a pathway that'll take him through the chaos and toward the road that'll eventually lead back to his shop. His head is down a little, hair flopped in his eyes and he navigates the people around him as he passes through with a series of 'Uhm sorry' and 'er uh, excuse me' and 'pardon me' phrases. November is a lie. At least, her appearance is, because she -looks- like a human being, albeit a human being most human women would prefer to shove off a balcony. The world knows better, and it isn't -her- fault she looks like a fashion plate. ...Except for the part that is, because clearly she has spent hooours upon hoooours in a salon chair getting all that pin-straight, thigh-length hair dyed in so many ludicrously fine, stained-glass-vibrant streaks of colour, not a wisp or split end to be seen. Also, cleeearly she is wearing contact lenses, because no normal person has eyes such a distinctive and inhuman honey-green. Or, you know, lacks a navel. Which she does. That pale pale belly is smooth as can be, not even mentioning the skin-hugging leather halter or trousers in apocalypse-punk-chic, or the kick-ass ankle boots. Three-inch heels mean she's a model-slim 6'3" this afternoon. Meandering into the crowd with absentminded grace, said rainbow's posture silently assures she knows precisely what she is worth, that she forgives others for what -they- are worth, and, amusement lighting gold-green eyes, that she is quite pleased to place her donation for the library firmly on the 'E' side of the line, a glint of mischief following an idle visual scan for familiar faces. What's a flashmob without unaware bystanders? Mireille is here by happenstance, just out and about on a random stroll. Does she know what is about to go down? Newp. OR DOES SHE? Maybe she is a participant. You just don't know with flashmobs. They're very tricksy that way. Dancers could be anyone. /Anyone/, man. That dude picking his nose? He might be on the verge of busting a move. That lady yelling at her toddler to find his shoe, where is his shoe, why aren't your wearing your shoe for pete's sake?! She might break it down any second. So Mireille might be complicit. Maybe. Perhaps. Possibly. Or she could just be a bystander of the innocent variety. One thing is for sure, though, is that she is pretty unremarkable to look at. No horns. No wings. No shifting colored skin. Is she mortal? Does she just have her mask up? Maybe yes? There's something kinda off about her though and anyone of the human variety standing near her for too long suddenly just finds a reason to be somewhere else. Like .. over there. Over there seems good. Yup. Mina, in contrast to C.B., looks anything but grumpy. There are frequent flashes of her smile, and she given gives one to the grumpasaurus that is her boyfriend. And since he doesn't ask about the small crew of similarly dressed women, she says absolutely nothing about it. Nope, not a word. She does, however, slide her hand atop one of his folded arms, and looks to him. "Just a -little- smile, before I sacrifice myself on the altar of public spectacle?," is asked, before she lets his arm go. Amanda Green is on the scene! Today (like any other warm day), the little Brit is dressed in a little blue and white striped dress. She wears floppy straw sun hat, which seems to be more functional than anything. Helps keep the sun off that camera she wields. Yes, a camera! A big, proper DSLR, which Green makes active use of. Click, click, click! Her only pieces of flair of consists of that camera, with a strap aroun dher neck, then a messenger bag, dark leather, slung across her body, and finally a lanyard hanging around her neck that reads 'PRESS'. Yes, she's on full-on reporter mode today! Well. If reporters wore cute little dresses. As Green lifts and points and shoots, she makes sure to capture all the players here. There's Mina... "Looking lovely, darling!" she calls. There's CB! He gets a nose wrinkle and a smirk. Oh, look, a tall angry Russian. "It's too hot for leather, Franky, love!" Green calls out, as she snaps more picture. Green is just about to focus on Kip. Poor, poor Kip. But he gets spared. By November. "Oh, blimey..." Green says aloud. And then the camera goes. All the pictures of November! "Nope," C.B. immediately says to Mina, although -- he follows that up about thirty seconds later with, you guessed it. A little smile. Just the tiniest fraction-fraction of a smirk, as he puts one of his hands over one of hers. "What an absolute shitshow this is." Eyes move around, taking in the others -- oh, gawd. There's Franky, and Green, and Beatrice, and November, and -- Kip. His eyes narrow, and he starts digging in his shirt pocket for a cigarette. He desperately needs a cigarette. "Is anyone selling booze at this thing?" And all thoughts of dancing flee from Haruki's mind as he spots an ever so tall figure in the crowd. Haruki heads in whatever the opposite direction from November is, seemingly at random, trying his ever so best to look like he's not doing so. She scares him. What if she can sense that fear? Flee! His path takes him over to where C.B. is. Run away! Run away. "Are you not dancing?" he asks C.B, stating the obvious. In contrast, Annabeth looks rather frumpy, all efficient t-shirt and jeans, with too many buttons. Though she's put this whole affair together, it's clear she doesn't quite know what the term 'flashmob' means, and has used it incorrectly. This is an event, just a somewhat impromptu and haphazardly put together one. As the children finish up their dance off, Annabeth gives a healthy round of aplause, trying to work up some enthusiasm from others, "Right! Great job kids. We'll be giving away prizes for the best dance moves over there!" Shuffling the kids away, she starts looking around, pointing to CB and Kip, "Right! CB, you're on the 6 side! You, book man, you started this nonsense, so you're on Enid's side, by way of shared literary enjoyment. These boys will be the leaders of round one!" She uses a tone of voice usually reserved for southern mothers in particular 'no bullshit' moments. She will lead the two men by the ears if they don't submit to her whims willingly, that tone says. "=You're= too hot for leather!" Franklyn quips back at Green as she passes by -- all laughter and mirth and humany delight. How delicious. Although the words of the cutely-dressed friendly reporter has the Garreau woman putting away her iPhone and moving to hastily take a little E pin and switch it from the lapel of that jacket to the strap of her dress. A moment later? She's slipping out of her jacket and unceremoniously tossing it in Green's direction -- flashing her a grin which is 100% 'deal with it'. Then Franklyn is turning, scanning the crowd, and -gliding- off towards the Enid section, which just happens to be the /right/ section. Other supporters? They get an alarmingly cheerful yet bordering on sarcastic grin and wave. Wouldn't be hard to assume Franky finds this /absurd/ -- but on the other hand... Could be she's had a drink or two. Who just tosses their clothes at passing reporters? This girl! That little, barely-there smile, it seems to be that Mina needs. Even if it's closer to a smirk than anything, she'll take it. Leaning forward, she steals a quick kiss from him, befre he has the chance to light up the cigarette that he's lighting up. "God, I hope so," she says with a laugh, before she's looking over her shoulder to flash one of her very best smiles towards the woman with the camera. "Miss Green, a pleasure as always." Fingerwaggle to Haruki, and then an arches brows at the announcement. Well then! That's...interesting. The locals seem to be enjoying the show, and the reason to get out and have some free (non-alcoholic) drinks. A few of them mill around as Annabeth starts directing folks, heading toward their respective 'sides', in varying levels of enthusiasm and awkwardness. Someone makes a joke about being an EMT when the inevitable injuries start occuring. A few people clearly tro to get close to November, because she is sooo pretty, and pretty people are nice to be near. Others try to get into (or out of) Green's camera range. Others still stand around on the outskirts, just watching this display of absurdity with amusement. C.B. raises his eyebrows at Haruki, looking about as thrilled to be here as he'd be at a stockbroker's meeting. Actually, a stockbroker's meeting might be more fun for C.B. Think of the Molotovs to be thrown! "No. I am not dancing." This exact same sentiment is repeated directly into Annabeth's face. At least he's not saying it through the megaphone. "No. I am not dancing, Annabeth. I'll stay on the 6 side, if you want, because I do support that side," despite his lack of button, "but I am not. Fucking. Dancing." If she actually tries to grab his ear? He is going to slap her damn hand away! "Mina! Tell Annabeth to fuck off, would you? /Mina/ is dancing for Number Six," he says with a grimace. Kip stops tapping on the phone to, one assumes, summon a rideshare car to drive him back to town to his shop since he doesn't drive himself. But he's distracted and caught up in a rush of movement of people as they head to one side or the other. "Uh what?" he stammers as Annabeth addresses him. Or at least he assumes he's the book man who started this all. "Uh-- I uhm.. .oh. This is the uh, this is the dance thing? I forgot it was today," he mumbles. But he does look over to seek out CB since CB's name was called out, his eyes glancing around to find either him or the Mina he knows must be present, too. Snap, snap, snap goes the camera shutter! For all Green is the 'neutral' party here, or so she'd claim, the fact that she makes sure to get that kiss between Mina and CB on camera might reveal a thing or two. She's focused on that pair when Annabeth - snap! - lays out the plan. Then CB starts to talk. Green's eyes go wide. "Mr. Alexander!" she calls out. "Do mind your language! There are children present!" Green scolds. She might have more scolding to do, but then someone lobs a leather jacket at her. "Gah!" she says, in a positively improper squawk. Green shoots a glare... only to find Franklyn walking away, and Franklyn's jacket half on her. She gives a sigh, then a silly little smile. Jacket is taken, and hung dutifully from her messenger bag. She will take this burden, it seems. Then get back to taking pictures. Of Kip. For her part, November remains blithely unfazed by the photography in progress, accepting it with the photogenic ease of one who simply hasn't anything to hide from cameras. It really isn't fair. Even if she DID get shoved into a steaming heap of cowplop, between overall elegance and attitude alone, she'd STILL look good. Fairests. Pfft. That said, any mortals flocking to her vicinity may be disquieted, even if they don't know why. Whatever else she is, however they interpret it, there's SOMEthing alien about her. Something too much, something too perfect, something which, even 'human' as she seems today, niggles at the hindbrain. Poor Haruki. While he does escape physically unscathed, the motion of a familiar face catches the rainbow's eye, which lingers on the fellow with...not quite -predatory- amusement at his fear? Awareness of potential, humour, and a distinct lack of anything resembling morality, yes. An adjective which means that. And dancing! Mercurial creature, she cheers when Annabeth gets things started, waving her 'E' pin high with a brief and slinky shimmy. Haruki smiles at CB, nice and warm when he says he's not dancing. "Oh, okay. What's this number six thing?" He wiggles figures back at Mina, smiling at her. He pointedly does not look in November's direction. Nope. And if that means avoiding the dancing then so be it. Mina, not only just a good girlfriend, but a prideful showwoman! "Yes, Annabeth. I'll be dancing for Number Six. Ceebee is just here to witness the..." A dozen words play on the tip of her tongue, before she decides on, "This." Because, as Green so helpfully reminded, there are children here. Also, a Kip. He only gets a brief glance, before she's looking elsewhere. Wait, someone's wasting time and energy taking pictures of /Kip/? Oh Green, you poor misguided summer child. All Kip does is look dorky and awkward as he stands there, trying to not get elbowed or bowled over or anything as he turns and twists to talk to people who call things to him. He mostly misses any glances in his direction and definitely misses all photography that has him in it. "Uh-- I uhm..." he stumbles to nobody in particular before shifting the newspaper and phone to one hand so the other can rummage in his messenger bag for a moment before withdrawing a pin. He looks at it and then puts it on. It bears the letter E. Maybe because he was told to. But his phone gets his attention again after a moment and he taps something on it before looking around and watching the dancers for a long moment. "I uh... didn't know so many people were into dancing. Or the whole Enid and Number Six thing," he says almost guiltily. Annabeth pouts at CB, though she does manage to refrain from actually forcing him. "Well, you're a spoil sport," she chastizes him, though she seems to be only mildly bothered about his refusal. Kip, however, seems an easier target, and so she hones in on him, trying to herd him like a cat toward the staging area for the dance off, "Come on you, to your corner, don't be shy. Of course people are interested, sugar. You started /the/ debate of the summer with those buttons of yours." A beat, then she hollars, "Right, Mina leads the 6 team!" She raises her voice even higher, yelling out, "2 minutes, people! To your sides if you're in this round!" She shoots CBs megaphone a slightly envious look. It might be notable that she seems to stay well out of the way of November, perhaps used to being the prettiest/most discomfort-causing gal in a room and unsure how to handle it when she's not. "Warm up those vocal cords, and be sure to do some stretches!" Mireille doesn't know any of these people and no one knows her. Additionally, she has no idea what the beef is that has triggered this dance off. E? 6? It's all a mystery to her. She wanders over to where the buttons are located -- which one will she pick? Which side will she choose? An uninformed voter is a reckless voter -- that is how we ended up with the angry cheeto in the White House after all. She picks... Number 6. She tosses some bucks in both jars though and when she sticks the button her her shirt, she pins it there upside down. Team #9, yo. Turning now to watch the shimmy-shams, she folds her arms loosely across her chest. "Yes. A spoil sport," C.B. tells Annabeth with a satisfied smirk. And he keeps a tight hand on his megaphone. No one is getting that thing away from him, oh no. He kisses Mina briefly on the cheek and squeezes her shoulder. "Dance your ass off, babe." He shoots Kip a dirty look before disappearing into the crowd. Well. Not really disappearing. It's hard not to notice an Electrobro. But for now, he's keeping a low profile. Eyes follow November, and Franklyn, and Green, like he doesn't trust any of them, and probably for good reason. Then again, why does he have that megaphone? Exactly what is he planning to do with it? Franklyn glides on up and situates herself at the top-centre stage of all those Enid Supporters: it is there she stops, her hands going to her hips, as she looks out at The People: the gossips, the dancers, the laughers, the dreamers, the tea spillers and the spillees. The Good People, The /Right/ People, =Her= People. Not that anybody has democratically elected /her/ leader... "Kip, you can do this!" Franklyn calls out -- standing tall, standing proud, standing so everyone can see her. "We can -all- do this! You heard the pretty lady -- stretch out yer arms, get those bodies shaking: today we dance free and wild, we dance to =express=! Because what is better than letting everyone know how you feel? Too long have the -fear mongering- nay-sayers tried to cut down us tall daisies! Well, not today people -- today? We dance for freedom, we dance for fun, we dance for truth, and we dance for Enid!" Franky raises a hand in victory, winking at those gathered as she laughs -- so care free, so charming, so iroic-yet-not-ironic. Sure, she's being a little hokey, a little over-dramatic, and yet... And yet... She's so =impassioned=, so /expressive/, so *inspiring*. How can it be? Who knows. Some girl's just got It. Beatrice continues to loom at the dancers where she stands, unphased. She discreetly lifts a pinky to scratch at something itching her left nostril, flicking something down to the pavement before giving a sniff to make sure the airway is clear. The Russian still looks neither happy nor impressed. Ya know what? The sun is out, there are a lot of people wearing pins that support not just their team but also the library, a few people know his name which means he's not entirely an outcast and there are some pretty girls surrounding him that seem to be in a good mood, too. So Kip is suddenly a bit less grumpy than he was. Un-grumpy enough to even stop and look at Franky for a moment with a 'Wait WHAT?' sort of expression. "Can--do... I don't... I don't dance..." he mumbles, even though he's sort of moving, caught up in the motions of the people around him. But he's really bad at it. His movements are jerky as he tries a couple of moves and really fails in a hilarious sort of way. Not really /dancing/ exactly, more like he's trying to move his arms a bit and just making himself look utterly ridiculous. "Uh-- sorry," he mumbles as he almost bumps into someone next to him before he decides he's best off just stopping entirely. November is...something. Effervescent. Passionate, to be sure. Delight and joy fairly well radiate from the woman as she stands, quite still, eyes closed as though taking the sound of the mob-in-progress all in. Maybe she's just enjoying Franklyn's speech? Maybe she loves the 'uhm' and stammering of Kip's reactions to Annabeth? Regardless, when she opens her eyes, she a deep and satisfied breath before starting to clap for Kip, failed moves or no. Oh HELL naw. C.B. was all prepared to keep quiet -- for now, anyway -- until Franklyn is up there giving her fucking Inspiring Speech. Well, that just won't do. He heads right back through the crowd of Number Six supporters until he finds a picnic table. Let's say there is one! And then he hops up on it, unclipping the megaphone from his belt. "THINK FOR YOURSELVES, PEOPLE!" he shouts into the megaphone. Lost eyes will see that the inside of the megaphone is flickering with crazy colors -- red, purple, violet, brown. Clearly, the megaphone is some sort of Token. It has to be. "Number Six gave you all a voice when you had none. Do you just lap up whatever spoonfed bullshit is handed out to you?" Does he care that there are children in the audience? Not one whit! "No? Damn right you don't! Be your better selves, don't give into gossip and bullies! Doesn't it just PISS YOU OFF?" This seems to be what he really wants, although he suddenly glances to Mina, for some reason. "Well, hold onto that anger! Don't let go of it! USE it for something WORTHWHILE! Fight oppression!" Funnily enough, even though he mentioned Number Six, he doesn't really appear to be cheerleading him. He hops down from the picnic bench with his fist held high. This is a VERY persuasive argument he is making here. Green is near November, seeming compelled by unknowable forces closer to the strange. Because Green might have a broken danger compass, unlike dear Haruki. That means she's right there when the trickster tricks. Green blinks a few times, as a smile washes over her lips. She stares at Franklyn, who soon is giving a speech. "Yes!" Green shouts out, uncharacteristically happy (and loud). She quickly gives a look around, thend rops her camera, to let it dangle. She whirls, she spots November, and without asking permission, she grabs November's hand. "Hello! Amanda Green, I think I might be in love with you, let's dance," she says. And then she's starting into the group of dancers, intent on pulling November along. Because she needs to dance! Haruki's danger senses are screaming at him by now, especially when people start yelling and giving contradictory speeches. And sure it's all in good fun, isn't it? At least people are having fun. Not Haruki! No! Running away time. He does not want to be here if a riot breaks out. And Green? She definitely knows that anger CB is describing. Can you tell, by how happy and merry she is? How joyful! Those are angry things, right? Well, this...this might be getting out of hand. Annabeth listens to one speech, then the other, and then hops on the table CB just used, "Right! Now you know what each side is fighting for! So let's get started. Give us your best moves!" She hops off the table and moves to stand somewhere in the middle, not officially taking sides. There's a kiss to her cheek, and a disappearing C.B.. Right up until he gets up on that picnic table with his megaphone and starts giving his own inspiring speech. She cheers for him, Mina caught up in the moment of it, eyes all for him. Letting the emotions roll through her, closing those brilliant eyes for a moment before she just grins. Making eye contact with C.B. when he looks to her, and then raising her own fist. Maybe she's embracing her inner Sith, letting the anger move through her. But gosh, she's grinning for an angry person. Or maybe it's a showing of teeth? Who knows. But she whistles for the speech, before her gaze roams around, catching the fleeying Haruki. Maybe she'd follow him, but then, then it's time for dancing. And that's when the group of mod girls, all on Number Six's side, start to slink on out of the crowd. Kip's arms still flail a bit and he tries to do a spin but, well, this is Kip. So of course despite that being what he intended to do, it really looks halfway like he's having some sort of seizure as he stands there with his arms wiggling and jerking around him. But thankfully it doesn't last long and he doesn't have any sort of finale as much as he just /stops/ and stands there for a second with a slight goofy grin that shows a flash of his dimples. "Uh-- that's uhm... I'm not a dancer," he admits sheepishly before his eyes get distracted by the mod girls starting to stream through and whatever it is Green and November are up to. "I guess uhm... I should uh, I should maybe probably go. This isn't uh, isn't really my like /thing/." What is Franklyn? Franklyn is inspiring, she is Mortal, she is... Overwrought with feelings of delight and joy, and by jove she is /expressing it/. If there was any doubt that the Garreau girl was just serving up BS in that theatrical little speech of hers, it will be quickly snuffed out by anyone who actually see's her start to move. Is she a classical dancer? No. No she is =not=. What Franklyn is, is an impassioned one: entirely avant-garde and freeform, with all the theatrical posturing of someone who's undoubtedly blown a huge sum of trust fund cash on performing arts school tuition. Look at her =go=. Woosh. Swoosh. Back arching, leg lifting, skirts twirling around her. Who is Franklyn dancing with? Franklyn is dancing with =everybody=. Laughing and rolling her head back, care free as she twists and turns and spins and spirals deeper, deeper, deeper into the crowd. November's hand, when Green grabs for it, is ice cold despite the sweat-inducing heat and humidity of the afternoon. Thankfully, the thunderstorms aren't threatening until tomorrow. The rainbow laughs, seems to consider for a moment, then leans in to murmur, "Let's have fun, shall we?" before beginning to dance. There's evidence of classical training, but mostly? Wild grace, fey abandon, and -confidence-. Above all else, what -she- not-so-morally enchants those around her to feel is fearless self-confidence. There is a generic, mid-speed dance music playing in the background. There -was- a choreographed routine. Mina worked very hard on getting these half dozen women, and just as many men that were much more subtle in the crowd, all precise and so very Fosse! And those dancers, their moves are great. Fantastic. But the redhead herself? She's caught up in it. The swirling emotions, the speech of one C.B. Alexander, the absolute defiance that she feels down to the very core of her being. And it's that, rather than the choreography, that the succuflower is dancing to. Raw, pure, unhindered emotion. She takes up room, demands her space, and just lets go. The ballet training comes to the fore, but there's elements of jazz in there, of the Fosse inspiration, as she finds the beat and has her wicked succubus way with it. Err. In a PG way. Children! Oh, Green feels it. Fearless, reckless, joyful. Nevermind that the tall, gorgeous fairest is icy cold to the touch. There's no use in thinking right now! And, appropriately, that's all that the shouting from CB seems to do in Green. Stir up more energy. Energy to dance. "Do you swing, love?!" Green asks, loudly, as if she has to shout over the music, which probably is not quite loud enough to need that. Green will quickly fall in step with November, picking up on whatever feedback the Fairest gives her. Somewhere along the way, Green pauses to pull off her camera and her messenger bag and just drops them. That might be a smashed thousand-dollar camera. Green doesn't care. She's dancing! No dancing for this Wizened crank. C.B. stands off to the side, megaphone still in hand, eyes transfixed on Mina. He watches her break out of her shell, positively -annhilate- that shell to pieces, and a sort of wildness comes to his eyes, a slow grin spreading out over his face. Lightning crackles all around him, especially in his eyes and around his hands, ricocheting off the inside of the megaphone. It's very hard for him to pull his eyes away from her for a long moment. He is riding this out. He is waiting to see what will happen. He is itching to do more. No. He is -crackling- to do more! Things have been stirred up, oh yes. Some people seem to be a bit overwhelmed, there's a fainter early on, quickly taken to the hydration table for some sports drink and a cooling cloth. A handful of boisterous youths start trying to force a mosh pit, yelling loudly and headbanging as they battle around ricocheting off of people, not caring which side they're on. A handful of older people stick to the outskirts dancing together in joyful, slow bliss. On the E side, things are getting a bit wild, a few people near Kip have emulated his jerky, non-dance movements, trying to get a bit of impromptu, ironic choreograpy going on, but it fizzles out in the wake of the expressive joy, and soon everyone is just doing their own thing. A small bit of space naturally forms around November and Green, leaving them room to move. Some in small groups, others on their own, somehow creating a wonderful mosaic of mis-matched movement that becomes cohesive. On the 6 side, Mina's team of dancers add a bit of class and order to things, some people trying to latch on to the movements, with varying degrees of success. Others are caught up in the wildness, doing their own thing. Some people taking on the anger by letting themselves be lured into the mosh-pitters mild violence. One guy...he gets too excited and throws a punch, and is decended on by some, perhaps overly violent bouncer types, who pull him out of the mix. The rainbow laughs, assuring Green, "I'm flexible," while ensuring that she stays in synch with the now camera-free photographer. Whatever she's doing, it works, it's eye-catching and the smiles she offers to the crowd invite anyone and everyone to do it with her, long hair a rippling wash of brilliant colour with each turn. Who needs a mien to look fabulous? Pfft. Not November! In the spirit of dance battles on-stage and on the silver screen, she snaps her fingers to the beat. Kip stops for a moment in his twitchy jerky motions and just watches the dancers, seemingly enraptured by November and Green before his attention veers to the Number Six Dance Squad and the redhead leading them. He probably gives them, or at least the redhead, a bit more attention but clearly it's just because they're the 'competition' with their #6 pins that contrast his E pin he'd slapped on. The hint of violence that starts to perk up and be quickly squashed down snaps him entirely out of it and he pushes his hair back from his face as he watches everything, suddenly looking slightly overwhelmed. "It's... loud," he mentions to nobody in particular as he starts to edge his way back toward the outskirts of the crowd once more. Is it better to be furious and organised, or wildly happy and free? Franklyn believes it is the latter: she spins and twists spits out emotions like she hasn't a care in the world - and in this moment she probably doesn't. Yet as she drifts through the impromptu street rave, she seems drawn towards Green and that WOMAN, who is that rainbow punk? Why is she-- Oh. There's Kip. Franklyn nearly lunges into him, and she's reaching out to grab him by the hands if he doesn't stop her. "KIPPY!" Idyllic laughter, it is given as she talks to him, over the din of the dance music and crowd; "YOU OWE ME MONEY." Oh no, she's going in for the kil-- a hug. She's going in for a hug. If she's not stopped, she will commence twirling Kip around in a very close-contact freeform waltz. "Dance with me!" "Quite sure now!" Green calls over the din. "Deeply in love with you," she declares, to November. Her eyes wide and a touch manic. It's just the emotional manipulation talking, right? "I don't even know your name!" she says, as the thought occurs to her. Then Green turns, and she spots Kip once more. More than Kip, she spots Franklyn. Green's syes go wide. And then, like a magnet, Green turns away from November. The Fairest is momentarily forgotten. She hurries right over to Kip and Franklyn. "You two are so beautiful!" she shouts. And then, as if just saying it wasn't enough, Green steps in. She slips one arm around Kip's waist, then the other reaches out to grab hold of the back of Franklyn's neck. Then, while holding Kip, while all of four inches from the poor man's face, Green goes to her tip toes, she leans in, and she lays a High-Wyrd-Emotional-Manipulation powered kiss on Franklyn's lips. If the physical contact is getting out of hand on the #6, it's about to take a turn, on the letter E side as well. A turn in a very different direction. It's on the edge of moshers and the organized that Mina dances, for long moments. Casting off that delicate facade that comes with much of ballet, at least that style that she used to perform in. For those that can see it, the foxglove in her hair is in wild bloom, escaping from that once-perfect ponytail. She's grinning, and even Kip gets one of those grins if briefly. Maybe it's because he's become Franklyn's victim. But her eyecontact? It really goes to C.B. as he crackles. The Fairest does not ask him to dance, and while she's certainly in his line of sight, she doesn't dance for him. There's beauty in rebellion, right? But she does start to wind her way out of the chaos, and towards the man with the megaphone. Kip's hands are taken and he's pulled along into the dancing, twirling and spinning a little before he finds himself almost face to face with Green, just as she leans in and kisses Franklyn. And what a kiss it is! The look on his face becomes one of pure shock for a moment even though he's not hating it. Nope. Not a bit. But then again, he's a guy who is often tormented by Franklyn and Green both wearing transparent things, short things or low-cut things and he is a guy who can't /not/ notice them even when he tries to be a Very Good Boy. So he just freezes up and staaaares for a moment before mumbling something about having to go. Even though he doesn't move. Not yet. C.B. reaches for Mina's hand as she comes closer to him. He pulls her into a kiss -- a deep, long, full kiss, lightning crackling all around him. Barely breathing as he extricates himself, he whispers something into her ear. Franklyn is just laughing, holding on to Kip and being So Expressive and Totally Human In Every Sense. #carefreewhitegirl, y'all. "Isn't this =AMAZING=? Ah! KIPPY! I said you /OWE/ me =MONE---" The Garreau girl's words are cut short, because she's gasping loudly as Green is suddenly upon them, and Franklyn turns her big, wild green eyes towards her and... Has Kip ever seen a girl so happy in his presence? Two girls? Green may as well be Mother Mary herself, descended from Heaven for all the glorious rapture and delight in Franky's face. It only lasts a second. Because then they're kissing. Then Franklyn is moving in to extend that kiss with Green. Like, like really /going/ for it. Has Franklyn let go of Kip? No. No she has not - even if one hand is all musing up Green's hair and stuff. Kip get's a first row, front and centre show to the two Mortal woman potentially make out. Hey. Summer of Love, right? Mina's hand is taken, and there's a peal of laughter as she's pulled in for that kiss. A shiver, for the lightning that dances over his skin, and for the kiss itself. When it breaks, there's a grin on her lips, something that spreads slowly to fullness at whatever he whispers. Gripping his hand, the redhead bobs her head in a nod. Beatrice lifts an eyebrow at the developments. "Huh. Now that I did not expect." She shakes his head to herself at the people making out, scratching at her neck a few moments while deciding whether she should intervene. As things get worked up, some of the more aware parents have been taking their children into the park, away from the excitable crowd. Others are too blissed out, or sucked into the fun of the dance, to really bother. A few bro-type guys start hollering and whooping when Green and Frankly n start making out. Yeah, pictures are taken. Most people at this point are either leaving/gone or actively participating in some wayr, either getting a bit wild with the dance, rough with the mosh pit, or...are those two screwing?! The bouncers once again dive into the crowd to retreive those going too far in breaking the social norms, though they seem a bit more half-hearted about this one... And she still doesn't know November's name, yes. The rainbow in question simply laughs, neglecting to remedy Green's ignorance, and dances her way through the crowd, letting the flow of the other dancers carry her along. She is the mystery rainbow! Dun dun duunnn. Slinking gracefully along the edges of the dance-off, she slips pale hands around her hair, twists it into a knot at the nape of her neck, and pulls her hood up to obscure the most distinctive of her features on her way out of the mob. Kip is not making out with anyone! At least, the making out has stopped at the inner edge of his personal space bubble, which means it's happening all up in his face even though it doesn't seem to involve his face. At least hopefully there aren't any angles that make it look like his face is actively involved. There might be. It's hard to tell. He's not thinking about that, he's busy making little muffled sounds that might be of protest of it happening. Or might be protest of him not being involved. Or maybe the sounds just show that he's a guy and parts of him at least are really really enjoying this show being put on up against him. "Oh wow uhm, I uh... wow. Uh..." He swallows hard for a moment and sort of glances around like he's not sure what to do. "You uhm, you two uh... seem to uhm... I'll let you dance and er, and things," he stammers. And as he shifts a bit, his messenger bag slips to hang in front of him instead of against his hip. Clearly not hiding anything or, well, anything. The noise Green makes is PG-13 at best. Maybe even R. No, wait, it's two women, so probably R or worse! She continues to kiss Franklyn, and it should become apparent to anyone present that this probably isn't pure chance, these two have ended up near one nother. Kissing. It'll be quite apparent to Kip. All the while, Green keeps hold of the back of Franklyn's neck, and her other arm around Kip's waist. Until she suddenly breaks the kiss. Green's eyes are wild and full of mischief and reckless and joy. And, after she stares at Franklyn for a long moment, she abruptly lets go of Kip. Then, just as abruptly, reaches out that arm that held him to grab onto the back of Kip's neck. Green then tugs, as much as her meager strength can tug, to get Kip down to her level. For she is short. And then, just as recklessly, Green attempts to plant a kiss on Kip's lips. Chaos, panic and disorder. Why not add to it, right? Who says that November is the only crazy Lost here? No monopoly on that! C.B. squeezes Mina's hand and lets go, telling her, "Get to the edge of the crowd." Then he is stalking towards the mosh pit, and more the folks on the Number Six side of things. He hops up on a table again near them, crackling all over with lightning, basically appealing to anyone who is loud, violent, and PISSED OFF. The megaphone is clicked on again, although he is not so much trying to be persuasive right now as he is...something else. "LISTEN TO ME, PEOPLE!" he screams into the megaphone. "IF THIS DANCE-OFF IS A PLACE TO EXPRESS YOURSELF, WHO'S TO SAY IT JUST HAS TO BE PEACE, LOVE AND HAIR GREASE?! THERE'S A LOT TO BE PISSED OFF ABOUT, SO BE PISSED OFF! LIKE I SAID BEFORE, TAKE THAT ANGER AND USE IT! EXPRESS YOUR DISCONTENT! FOR NOW, IT'S A FREE FUCKING COUNTRY!" He clicks off the megaphone and runs for the hills. Mina's eyes flash at C.B.'s words, and she nods. She doesn't run for the edge of the crowd, but the dancer weaves her way through it quickly. Still riding that high of performing, of the crowd, of everything. She listens to the words that come through the megaphone, and her lips quirk. Standing at the edges, waiting for C.B., watching him. And waiting for everything to set off. Franklyn's all flushed cheeks and wild eyes as she breaks her makeout sesh with Green. What has come over her!? Who cares! It feels amazing! And feeling amazing is the only thing that matters. Right? Right. Look how unaffected she is as Green goes in for the kil- kiss with Kip. Jealousy? Is a thing for other people. What Franklyn is feeling is warm and fuzzy acceptance, nay, /charity/. Franklyn is feeling =charitable=, the blissful delighted euphoria of everything being -right-. ...Because Franklyn hasn't quite picked up on the discontent brewing over in the People's Republic of Major Bummer. She's too enthralled with what's happening in Goodtimesberg. "MOVE. You, you, you and you. COME HERE. NOW." The Russian accent of an irritated Beatrice cuts across the crowd. One arm unfolds from her chest like the sword of Damocles. It centers on children, and the people who by her eye the children came with. She is not interested in the crowd at large, but her steady movements forward to collect those individuals is a force in and of itself. Anyone who edges near her path that isn't on 'the list' is given a scowl and a look that their unborn children will have nightmares about. The path is clear for those with their minds still their own, Beatrice is directing children and their families to the safety of the nearby park. Away from what is becoming a very ugly scene. Wait, we're expressing discontent? Because Kip is not experiencing discontent right now, not when he's rather distracted and suddenly finding his head being tugged down so Green's mouth makes contact with his. But it's okay because it's just a little kiss-- okay maybe not /quite/ a little kiss. Or is it? It's hard to tell because that damn hair of his hides just about everything about the kiss aside from the fact that it's pretty clear that Green and Kip's mouths are making contact of some sort. Probably something totally chaste and sweet, right? Ignore the fact that Green and Franklyn were just making out inches away from his face prior to this happening. But he does pull back just as the whole discontent starts to wash over people and looks halfway surprised and halfway dazed. "Uh-- I... my ride... I'm...have... to. go." And just as reality seems to sink back into the bubble around him and Green and Franklyn, he jerks to stand up straight and looks around before turning to head out. Oh boy....Shit just got real! Those on the Number 6 side of the dance off start getting really wild, stirred up by the mosh pit, their own 'damn the man' mood, and CBs previous speech, they start losing their shit. It starts as a rumble, then seems to explode, with a trash can being thrown toward the ydration booth, and fists swinging toward those damn lovey hippies on the Enid side. Things start to spread out, slowly at first, with folks starting to turn tables and fight amongst themselves. Beatrice's attempts to corral people has some affect, at least there's no sign of children being harmed as things go from fun, wild party to....Well, the sirens can be heard far off, getting closer pretty fast. A few others seem to be trying to do what Beatrice is doing, restoring some order to the chaos, but it's pretty hard to do at this point. The innocent bystanders have long since fled, save a few who now huddle around the powerful force that is the Russian woman. Green releases Kip, after that <unknown level of hotness> kiss! And once it's done, it's done, like it never happened at all. Forgotten! Green turns and seeks out another kiss from Franklyn, quicker this time, wholly joyful, still. Until she catches sight of those people getting riled up. "Oh, love... I think they're going to start killing one another!" she says. With a joyous laugh. Franklyn seems all perfectly content to watch Green and Kip do their thing -- it's not until the bashful bookseller starts hightailing it way from their Love In that Franky starts to look concerned. She turns as Green turns -- sticking close, but laughing. Franky don't need no Weatherman to tell her which way the wind blows. She tugs on Green's hand, and starts pulling her away while they kiss. Smooch! "Let's go find that rainbow babe!" Who? Oh, she know's who -- Franklyn laughs, totally mirthful at the prospect of Mosh Death. Who cares?! Everything is =amazing=. C.B. runs through the crowd like gangbusters. Once he finds Mina, he grabs her hand and drags her along. He is grinning like a lunatic, the wild lightning sparking out from all over him as he runs away, away, away from all the madness -- some of which he himself has wrought. "Wonder what has them miffed..." Green muses, as she easily follows Franklyn along. Yes, because all that smashing is just 'miffed'. She gives Franklyn's hand a squeeze as they go, and she pauses only to scoop up her camera and messenger bag. Both have been stepped on more than a few times, and the lens of the camera is thoroughly smashed. She doesn't care. She just hoists both straps over one shoulder. "Wasn't she incredible? Didn't catch her name though...!" Mina's hand is caught, and there's an echo of C.B.'s lunacy in her own grin - if only around the edges. But it's clear that the succuflower is riding the high of it all, the emotions and the chaos sown like seeds. She runs with him, glad she opted for minimal heels on her boots - 3 inches aren't so bad - away from the madness. This is certainly different than any other dance mob she's taken part of before. Camera, messenger bag, and -vintage clothes-. Like Franklyn would leave without that amazing cropped biker jacket. It looks amazing on her, don'cha know. Who cares that it's got crumpled and someone's spilled (non-alcoholic, eeck!) drinks on it? "Ohmygod, let's give her a name -- I bet it was... April, or Iris, or Lorna, or like, Violet-Leigh, or like..." Franklyn just starts laughing, throwing a shoulder around Green as she shimmy and sashays her way outta there; serenading her as they move, "Here I go, fallin' down-down-down - my mind is blank, my head is spinnin' around and around!..." And she does - twirling alongside Green, as they glide off to cause trouble elsewhere. As people scatter, the police arrive, starting to deal with the angry folks still going at it, and dispersing the less angry people. Order will be restored, though one police officer can be heard alling for backup, and an ambulance is close behind, ready to handle the folks who are now bloody. No winners in the dance off, it seems, though one could argue that Team #6 has won. | |
