Eros was at his best when he hid behind frills and glitter, letting the costumes do the talking for him. Today it was cream lace and magenta brocade - and white faux fur against the cold of these first few days of winter. The curtains swung open. The lace bowed with a flourish. The brocade flicked a Pokeball onto the stage. The faux fur announced to the audience, "Dido, the stage is yours!"Dido, on the other hand, needed little adornment. A slim, intricate collar encircled her neck, but any more would have overwhelmed the tiny Skitty. She struck a pose as she emerged from the Pokeball, forepaws neatly together, one hindpaw reaching back in a balletic stretch, her little neck reaching as high as it could, her tail twitching to a rhythm that, as of yet, only she could hear.
Her coordinator had retreated upstage right, allowing Dido the audience's full attention. "Heal Bell," he murmured under his breath, just loud enough for the Skitty to hear.
Dido pranced a figure eight around the stage as she called the bells into existence, a dozen of them, chiming all in time and on one perfect note, following the metronome of her tail. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.
"And... Sing."
The Skitty whistled – or was it more of a hum? The melody intertwined itself into the steady chime of the bells, harmonizing perfectly. A visible ribbon of colorful notes wove itself around the swinging bells, fluttering in the air currents like the tail of a kite.
"Captivate!"
Dido continued her twisting path around the stage, keeping up the song. In time with the music, she paused here and there to strike a pose, showing off her shiny fur, her perky nose, her fine supple tail, her elegant little feet, her glittering eyes, as an iridescent mist tumbled off the stage and into the audience.
And now, the grand finale. "Echoed Voice!" Eros called, loud enough for the spectators to hear this time.
Dido's song paused, but a new one began, more forceful than the last, and directed upwards, toward the ringing bells. They swung out of time with each other, and their notes shivered out of their perfect conformity, but instead of cacophony – harmony, and a stunning ripple of sound. Ding ding ding dong DONG DONG dong ding ding ding dong DONG DONG dong ding...
It flowed over and under itself, over Dido and Eros and the audience. It slowed... and it ended in a single, perfect, echoing DONG.
The curtains closed.
