Don't Stop Dancing 'Til the Curtains Fall [Event]

The last couple of times Georgette had ventured out to Paris, she ended up leaving veritably disappointed. She had always made a point to ogle over the houses and observe the landmarks with great rapt, envisioning herself in a bay window with a gorgeous sunhat. But at the end of the day, she couldn't help feeling like something was missing. Paris was supposed to be the city of high couture, of fashion and cuisine and elegance. Yet for as much sniffing around as the blue poodle had done, she couldn't find a single designer dress anywhere in this city! Even the merchants seemed as if they were holding out on her whenever she perused. It was difficult enough being so far away from her prized costume closet at home, but couldn't a girl get at least one new accessory without having to go on a wild goose chase!?

This festival, however, was much closer to the Paris of her dreams. Some of the decor left a lot to be desired -- she rolled her eyes upon seeing the banner of rainbow flags fluttering solemnly in the breeze above the entrance to the square -- but other parts were simply inspired. Scratch that; the entire reason for the celebration was lovely. Sure she had been resting on her laurels through the Thorns' ambush, but if every major victory for their faction could end in an event such as this one, who was she to complain? 

Begging as she had done on her first days as an independent (as well as a little applied cunning, though her first few attempts were shaky) snagged her fine food, the likes of which she hadn't tasted in a long time. Roast hen, bits of pastry, even a dollop of ice cream from an unwitting child helped to satisfy. Diet was important, of course, but a lady needn't watch her figure when the indulgence was in victory.

She was doing just that -- lying on all fours, indulging on a croissant in the most ladylike manner she could muster -- when a curiously-coated Dalmatian puppy swaggered by her. At first, Georgette paid her no mind, attention only briefly disturbed as she finished her snack. But a high-pitched yip quickly broke her concentration. This time she looked up, the faintest hint of curiosity in her expression. Truth be told, she couldn't have cared less about the fellow canine just a moment earlier. But clearly, the juvenile was demanding attention.

And if there was anyone who knew a thing or two about captivating an audience, it was certainly Georgette.

The poodle watched with a critical eye as the heart-spotted pup pulled herself up on hind legs, stumbling before hopping around. She yawned; it was amateur technique at best. Watching her lose her balance caused her to roll her eyes. They'll let anyone perform, she thought, a touch bitter. This was lousy entertainment. 

And yet...

A familiar pang tugged at her heart. In a way, this pup struggling to do her best reminded her of herself when she was just beginning her own career in performance. Heck, she even reminded her of Oliver a bit; unlike the little hairball, however, Georgette could see a glimmer of potential in her. And the pup's redeeming handstand quickly proved it. She hated to admit it to herself, but it was a impressive recovery, if not a bit unrefined.

She rose to her feet, padding closer to observe the reactions of the crowd. Handfuls of passers-by stopped to take notice before moving on with her day, and apprehensive envy strummed through the poodle. Here she was, currently standing in the shadow of a pup doing a handstand. Georgette was never one to be upstaged, after all -- if the small performer could enrapture a crowd, the national champion was positive she could do the same.

After all, it would help the newcomer out in the long run, while also putting the spotlight on the veteran performer. It was a win-win!

In a similar swaggering fashion, Georgette strode into the square, basking in the attention that was quickly being turned on her. She bent her head low, making sure Rebecca could hear her.

"Try to keep up," she whispered, tone like syrup, before launching into her own dance routine.

Granted, it was not a hind-leg routine, but rather an impressive series of four-legged moves. Following the cues of the music, she started with a series of step-touches, finding the rhythm. Her puffed tail wagged in time, keeping the beat as she moved. It evolved into a series of turns, kicking legs here and there and gliding back-and-forth with the groove. Every once in a while, the moves were punctuated with a series of leaps.

It was graceful. It was dazzling! It was perfect. She was slowly but surely stealing the show for herself.

 And if the fledgling had any sense at all, she would join the combo and stop relying on clownish charm.