Survival Of The Fittest

The school didn't have a dedicated dance studio, and Joanne would have called foul. More like, she did call foul but the school administration just happened to be a school administration, unfortunately, in terms of reactivity to the reasonable requests of the student body they were supposedly beholden to serving.

"Hey, hit me!" Joanne's commands tended to break ground, like, that shit was innovative.

And the song played... It was exactly half a second later that Joanne called time with her hands assembling that Teen Titans T.

"Hoi! Skip to my bae, none of that first verse shit!"

Nothing against dude, but he was pretty much just the costar on his own song. Joanne stanned a real queen, only and exclusively.

((Joanne Coleman continued from dammit Yugi this thread title sucks))

That was more like it. Again. Kehlani was the popstar of the future, no questions, no ifs ands or buts, Joanne already had every ticket from every future tour ordered and the stubs framed above the head of her bed. But. She was certainly not here to wax poetic about her obsession with certain celebrities whose woke-ness happened to be maximal, no. Well, yes, she could have been here for that exact reason too, but the real show? Joanne's friends got the front row seats- VIP tix, no less.

Joanne rocked that shoulder, that bodacious lean back as she fixed onto the camera with a stank-old face... okay, maybe she was playing it a little too K-pop, but K-pop happened to be the ish, so? She saw no problems?

Two lines passed, half a measure, Joanne threw out her arms parallel both ways. Her chest broad, two thunderclap snaps. Forward step, slow, confident as she smiled right into her element. No need to think this shit out much.

Also, the Spice Girls reference was fire emoji spam.

Step left, step right, working her body like it was one of Elon Musk's cannon fodder, pump, drop a bit more parallel, pump some more. Another measure, shift left to right on each line. Clean and precise. Three lines passed. The bass was a fractional second from hitting, Joanne's brain had turned this moment of the song into something as instinctive as her own breath.

She dropped into a splits on the first heavy 808s. Her legs cleanly parallel to the ground right up to the seam of her crotch, and she was damn sure her tights were putting in overtime on this one. The flexibility she'd developed since joining the school's dance crew was one of her points of pride, because like... fuck if society expected a girl who was proud of her heft to be capable of dropping bends and twirls like this. She liked to show those nay-sayers just what was up: specifically, via demonstration.

In this instance, making her point of protest by draping her chest smoothly over her forward extended leg. Well okay, not perfectly, there was some room between them tig oldies of her's and her calves, but. It was still one hundred percent insane and awesome and...

She lost the beat. Came up, smiling all kinds of dumb.

"Turn it off, turn it off!"

The girls- and boys, because at least some clubs in GHHS happened to be inclusive and forward thinking- of the dance team put in their blood and sweat at least three times a week, or at least most of them did. Most of said girls and boys were scooting out as their suggested time slot was already used up. That left the girls of the Titty Brigade to work the speakers on their own. Left the girls of the Titty Brigade to clean up the room and re-cover the mirror on their own. Left the girls of the Titty Brigade- and Joanne absolutely had to emphasize, The Titty Brigade- to be the most bootylicious of all, entirely by themselves, undiluted. Though, to be honest, Joanne was all for drafting those who fit the establishing creed of 'bosom-ed and unafraid of it' as honorary. Though, ultimately, there would be no OGs but the original three themselves.

The girls of the Titty Brigade. Her best friends, honestly, her low key reasons for still living on this cruel Earth.

And they were still leaving her stuck on the floor like this, as she huffed and puffed and tried to get her abused hamstrings to work.

((Tanisha Abbey continued from We're Still Waiting for You to Show Us Your Chartreuself))

Tanisha stood against the wall, bobbing her head along to Joanne's music while smiling. Joanne had some pretty cool moves to go with a song that you wouldn't expect this kind of dancing to go along, but Tanisha could roll along with it. Ever since Tanisha assumed the position of Dance Team captain, she had been all about letting the other members of the group have the chance to do solo dances to whatever music they wanted if they had anything planned. They could spend the club time itself on routines for pep rallies and dance competitions, but she still wanted them to have those Step Up moments where they all just go buckwild to whatever the hell they wanted to dance to.

Today, it was just Tanisha and the other babes of the Titty Brigade left behind to dance and clean up the dance room. That was fine. Joanne and Adele were the kind of girls who could be real about whether or not she was off beat or if she could add a better move to the routine. Tanisha appreciated that, so she was down to give it back as well.

Joanne, being the boss woman she was, dropped into the splits. Tanisha had to let out a cheer.

"Yes, bitch!" she cried out.

However, that was soon replaced by the realization that Joanne still needed help getting back up. Tanisha chuckled to herself as she ran over.

"Hold on. I got you."

She grabbed Joanne's hands and helped her back up onto her feet.

"Nice moves," she said. "You really got me going with the song. But we gotta help you with recovering from splits. I know you're really good at going down, but we gotta get you back up again."

Tanisha chuckled. This really was the best part of her day.

"Oh, yes." Joanne's voice vibrato-ed into high heaven and then the divine realms thereafter, as she sung choir-like her rescuer's praise. "That's the Captain I voted for!" Joanne came up easy, light on her feet, heavy on her smile. She wasn't even laughing yet and she could have guest starred a dentist's commercial spot.

"Not my fault gravity's trying to keep me down." Then a laugh.

Then. She shook her head, suddenly business-like. Still smiling strong, but suddenly with more of that stank on the eyes, harsh. Or like, the aura had changed, for those so inclined to believe in the spiritually robust or at least in the various publications of the New Age Mom in Yoga Pants generation. Joanne sometimes got like this when it came to the specifics of dance. Her routine was about as sacred as Karaoke Fridays.

"You're right though. I've got to polish that up. Practice before we get the trophy to be polishing, you know?"

She'd segued smoothly enough. She crossed her arms, but not without an affectionate squeeze of Tanisha's waist. Sisters, comrades in arms.

"What do you think though? We've got a few-... two months? Left to structure something before... last one. We've gotta go out with a bang." Joanne shook her head, closed her eyes. Not like she could protect herself from the encroaching truth, because it was pretty much right there. Their senior year, slowly drawing out. Joanne was only thinking of the bang though. Not of the whimper.

Not too much, anyways.

Tanisha chuckled as she helped Joanne up and Joanne sang praises of her. It did feel good to get that sort of praise as captain. But as Joanne continued, it reminded Tanisha of her duties. They did have a few events coming up, including one last competition before the school year ended. Tanisha was only able to become Dance Team Captain this year after years of busting her ass and proving her abilities to her peers. She'd have to lead them to at least one championship or trophy-awarded title before she left GHHS for good. It was what was expected of her, and so there was no way she'd let them down.

"Yeah, polishing would be good," Tanisha said. "And I don't just mean polishing dicks. Here, let me show you something I've been working on."

Tanisha grabbed her phone and pressed a few buttons. She set the phone on a chair and took her position as music began to play.

"Check this out!"

As the Supermodel of the World's voice began to play, Tanisha began to make her moves. Her first moves kept her in place, moving her arms and hands along the curves of her body as fast as she could move them. It wasn't until she affirmed her body was like wow that she began to move her feet. She stepped forward, hands on her hips, then slowly moved her legs apart as she touched the body parts named in the song and vogued like her life depended on it. She dropped into a split and bounced a bit before swinging her legs around and hopping back to her feet.

"Now, get ready for this next part!"

"Please, you mean polishing dicks. At least a little." Joanne didn't have the up-down on the precise calculus of determining the limit of Tanisha's not-so-innocent intents? She didn't care?

Because Joanne was a boss- watched too much TV nowadays, too- she immediately recognized that. As in, Tanisha was up and doing that.

"Giiiirrrlll!!" Joanne screeched, she checked it out, she confirmed. Tanisha's body was like wow? Big girls had all the tricks and tools in the game? As if anyone else couldn't understand if they weren't repressed by their political drug of choice. Joanne observed the work Tanisha was putting in, in real time. That girl hit the floor. Joanne couldn't help but yell again, enraptured.

"Do it!"

Who the hell could have thought of a routine this progressive? Aggressive? Subversive? Joanne was way too caught up in this. As was proper. It wasn't a Titty Brigade dance-off if everyone wasn't howling at the moon within five seconds of the song starting. Joanne had been to concerts (of Lady Gaga, of course) less violently fun and hectic.

Tanisha continued to vogue and move her feet in time with the music. She had heard this song a while ago and, upon seeing tons of videos of people dancing to it, knew she had to do a routine to it somehow. As the song inched closer to the chorus, Tanisha began to slow down as the voice echoed "call...me...mother." It was when the song suddenly kicked into scatting that Tanisha spun in place and death dropped to the floor.

She laid there panting and fanning herself as the song kept going. She then chuckled.

"Okay, that's all I got so far. Would have worked out a bit more if we didn't have as much homework as we do lately," she told Joanne.

Tanisha hoisted herself back up to her feet.

"So yeah, if we go with that song, we're gonna need a clean version and make sure everyone here came vogue the house down boots. What do you think?"

Doing of it was still being done.

Joanne, for example, doing her best hype wrestling match impression. Forgive her the overly machismo comparison to draw. In this corner, Tanisha is a god, and this corner, the world is shook! Joanne stumbled over a few steps, helping to put out the fire Tanisha had ignited- as if that girl could ever not be hot, come on- with one hand fanning her friend's way and the other saved for herself. Danger of swoon was Defcon shit.

"Is there, like, anything in this school that is not somehow McClellan's fault?" An exaggerated, octave's worth of sigh as the dramatic pipe organ Joanne called a throat exploded through a bevy of dissonant keys. "Uugh. Call me over next time you've got homework tsunamis. I'll drown along with you, like a good soldier."

She fell back, suddenly giddy, energetic. Maybe rare nowadays, but common enough when it was just them, in the studio, doing what experts liked to scientifically call their thang. Old times died hard, at least. That was comforting to know.

"Clean version I'll make myself if I have to. I can pull a mean DJ scratch, eeerk!" Maybe that had sounded like needle snipping at vinyl, or maybe Joanne was too hyper and she was actually half-hyena, but either way she was already boiling over with thought. "Yup, it sounds good. I'll start texting the others." And she had already started. All the girls, and boys, all the time.

Tanisha laughed at Joanne's record scratch sound. It didn't entirely come out like Joanne hoped, but Tanisha could come to love that sound cutting out any naughty words.

"Yeah, we might have to add a few other songs, but I think we can get a good routine forming," Tanisha told Joanne. "I'll listen to some other stuff and see what I can prepare for the next meeting."

Tanisha walked over to her bag and grabbed a towel. She started to wipe some of the sweat off her forehead and neck.

"Come on. Let's go get a cold drink," she said.

Overall, it was a good meeting, and now Tanisha was more than prepared to form an awesome routine for the next competition.

((Tanisha Abbey continued in Just Dance))