-- OPENING NIGHT --

Just outside of the gates, crowds gathered with their tickets in their hands. There wan't a cloud in the sky and the lights shone brightly beyond the midnight black gates. All of the tents had been hoisted high, their black and white colors giving the circus an air of mystery. Everything about this circus was odd and the air surrounding it would give anyone shivers of excitement and curiosity. Just as the last rays of sunlight fade away into dusk, a woman appears without warning in front of the gates. Whether those closest to the gates noticed it or not, it seemed as if they had taken a couple steps away to form a semicircle around her.

The woman wore all black, with traces of silver and white sewn into her long skirt and jacket, and atop her head sat a tall top hat with a single white rose gracing it. She stood on a box to give her an acceptable height difference and to make sure that all eyes were upon her. She gave the crowd a big smile and they silenced immediately. That's when she spoke in a boisterous tone of voice that elicited excitement from even the most dubious of guests. "Welcome, my friends!" Her voice was silky and dark. "I would like to thank you all for coming to my humble home, Cirque de Noir! Please feel free to leave any donations upon leaving our wonderful show, for I do not ask for payment other than your shining smiles and musical laughter!"

Then the gates opened behind her with a wave of her hands, a few people stepped back, wondering if they were automated or if someone had managed to open it up without their noticing. But those thoughts immediately dissipated at the sights and scents that awaited them. Music from various tents could be heard in the distance, enchanting anyone who cared to listen. The air of mystery was to only grow stronger.

"Now... let the show begin!"

And then the people poured through the gates, trying to decide where they would go to first. Each tent looked similar, except for size and shape. Signs at the entrances seemed to glow with their own light, trying to attract anyone who would care to discover what lay beneath the fabric. There was magic in the air.

Roman barely managed to finish setting up before everything began to open up. Small silver trinkets were layed out all over his tent, each one with a unique touch to it. Some of the trinkets went on hands, others around necks. Some contained the standard zodiac symbols, while others random shapes and lines. Very few had anything of value, arguably none of them were actually worth anything. After all, value only came to them when they went through the hands of the charmer. Which was actually fairly often. When Roman first set up his tent and was able to start doing his job for others, he doubted many would be interested. However this was not the truth at all, and instead he already was at least decently popular. At least, popular enough to where he couldn't lounge around and act unprofessional or fear getting caught.

This day would be the third of which he had been truly at work. He had only recently gotten a new batch of odds and ends to lay about his tent. As stated earlier, he had barely managed to make it before people were allowed to flow in. So, after minutes of waiting around people started working there way over to him! The first person who gave him a visit was a young boy who seemed to be interested in a necklace with a symbol that didn't really stand for anything. Roman recognized it as a newer one he had already set out, it only had three horizontal lines running through the center of it but it seemed to be what interested the young boy the most. So, Roman began to go through the motions.

"You like what you see?" Yeah "Its yours if you like it, but you do know what tent this is right?" The charmer right? I wanted to get something for my mom because she wasn't able to make it. Do you think she would like this one? "I bet any gift from you would make her happy. However, I think I can give you a hand with this. Mind giving it to me for a second?" And the young boy gave it to him. Now Roman's ability didn't come with many, actually any, flashing lights. But that didn't mean he couldn't put on a show for his patrons! So, with a proper twist of fingers and the help of a few volunteers that worked with him throughout his day...

The lights flickered. Then shut off. But quickly came back! All focused onto Roman. Lights peered out of the trinket as it jumped into the air, and then quickly fell back in his hands. It felt warm, and the three lines going through the center gave off an eerie green light. One that a will-o-wisp might give off it found alone in the night. However, all of these effects quickly dissipated. But the smile on the kids face didn't after he left with his newly enchanted pendent. Roman couldn't give this show to everyone who walked by, after all, not everyone here believed in magic. Most believed in stage affects and the power of dramatic lighting. However, the enchantment he gave to lift his mothers mood after she got the gift was real. Even if to some people that kind of magic was rather dangerous and scummy, It made Roman happy to help others lift the spirits of loved ones.

Almost five hundred years Caius had been alive, most of which was spent in this place. Using his powers mostly on people who didn't believe they were real. Who simply thought he was a fake. But no, Caius was a real psychic, and a real fortune teller. To a certain extent he could see the futures of the people and things around him. A gift he could have used for the sake of his country and his crew, but instead traveled the world in this circus, trapped for eternity, never aging, never dying. In his time he had gained a lot of wisdom, befitting of his status as a fortune teller. But technology scared but. A lot could change within a few centuries.

Caius' tent where he read futures was devoid of much technology because of this reason. It was dimly lit by candles places in various locations. Chains of black or white crystals hung over the candles, casting patterns on the walls and giving everything a sort of glow. There was a single table in the center, with two chairs. On the table was cloth that was pure white, it too had chains of black crystal hanging off it that nearly touched the floor. The only thing on the table was a black cushion. No crystal balls or fancy tricks. Just the telling of fortunes.

The most lavish thing in the room was Caius himself, who was sitting in the chair farthest from the entrance. His long, golden blonde hair hung loose as it always did, falling perfectly as to never get in the way of his eyes. The one eye you could see was sapphire blue that seemed to glow in the strange lighting, while the other eye was covered by a patch that was incredibly dark blue dotted with white, matching the night sky, it was trimmed with gold and a few beads of crystal hung off it. He was wearing a obsidian colored, kimono like robe that had long flowing sleeves that nearly covered his hands, this was trimmed in white.

He sat in his chair, straight backed and silent as his first customer of the night came in. This was his least favorite type of customer. The teenager boy obviously didn't believe in fortune telling and had been dared by his friends to come here. "Welcome." He said, his voice liquid smooth with just a hint of his English background. "Take a seat." The teenage boy did, eying Caius warily. "I am Caius, I don't have a fancy magic name, I don't have a crystal ball or fake tricks. All I have is the ability to see your future." The boy snorted, obviously not believing anything Caius was saying. The psychic lifted his hands and set them on the cushion. "Tell me what you want to see and give me your hands." The teenage boy grinned, having thought he found a way to stump the psychic. "How will I do on my finals?" He said before placing his hands in Caius'.

To anybody who didn't know what he was doing, all it would look like was Caius suddenly spacing out. Staring blankly ahead of himself without actually seeing what was in front of him. But he was really seeing the future, looking until he found when the boy was taking his tests. He saw the grades he got back. Caius blinked as his eyes focused again. "Math and science are your strong suits, yes?" The teenage boy nodded. "You will ace those with flying colors, but you barely squeaked by in English, I suggest studying sentence structures a little more."

The teenage boy seemed to believe him a little more now. Because of the detail he had used when giving the boy his fortune. Most fakes would have tricked him into giving his best and worst subjects beforehand. Caius hadn't even bothered to ask. The boy thanked him and then left. Caius leaned back in his chair with a sigh. He would be five hundred in just two years, he was the second oldest performer here, and a powerful psychic, and yet all he was doing was telling teenagers and young adults stupid things. Like what their test scores would be, who they would hook up with, and who would win the next Super Bowl.

Several people flooded into the tent that was labeled "The Truest Illusions". At first, many of them had no idea what they should do, but chairs suddenly appeared and so, skeptically, they took their seats. The chairs were aligned in a circle, so that there was room in the middle for the performance. After all of the seats had been filled after several minutes, the lights in the tent faded. A voice seemed to whisper in one ear, as if someone were standing behind them, "We are trapped in a terrifying reality, where there is nothing but struggle and pain, but here... all of your troubles may fade away..."

A woman then appeared in the center of the chairs, wearing a pair of black and white striped pants and a black suit coat that hugged her hourglass figure perfectly. The only thing that stood out from the black and white that seemed to be the norm of the circus was a scarlet bandanna that was tied just above her black suede shoes and her scarlet locks that were messily pinned up on top of her head. She gave the gaping people a vixen grin and turned, so that everyone could see it. "Welcome to the illusion show." She stated in a mysteriously sexy tone. "I must ask that you remain in your seats the whole time unless you want to volunteer yourself for a vanishing act." People chuckled and giggled at that, but little did they know that she was being serious. They would never be found again if they dared disturb her act. "Now... let my little show begin..."

She started off by proving that she had nothing up her sleeves, her coat, or her pockets. Then she began with the real show: moving chairs and people without touching them, making handkerchiefs turn into birds, and even levitated some of their seats if they seemed comfortable enough with it. The people were eating up her act, pleading for her to continue, but sooner rather than later, her act was done. She had more people that she would have to entertain. They left, disheartened, but many whispered that they would come back before dawn to see her once more.

Annaliese vanished into thin air and appeared behind Roman in his own tent. She stood there, watching him from over his shoulder and grinned when the little show of his enchantment was through. "You're doing rather well for someone who claims that they have no real talents."

Roman was lucky it was only the boy at this point, or else he would have been quite embarrassed. When Annaliese appeared behind him he jumped about two feet in the air out of fear and bewilderment. He quickly set his clothes straight though, once Apollo landed back on earth. "Thanks! How nice of you to say, however the people doing most of the tent-work are those letting me set off the sparks and lights. They are the ones who make it visually appealing, I am just making the magic last" he replied. Still a bit jumpy. "Also, wasn't expecting this kind of company already. Didn't mean to offend, if I did." His breathing slowed down a bit, and what was once an erratic heart-rate was now only slightly above his average.

Roman quickly tried to straighten himself up more. He was wearing a bright orange dress-shirt with his suit, but for the most part everything else was black and white. Most sane people would agree that the color choice might be a bit ugly, Roman would agree with them. However he recently had some wardrobe malfunctions and orange was what stood out the most and screamed 'Hey, This is my tent'. As he prepared himself for more visitors, they arrived. An elderly lady and a young man entered the tent. Whether they were together or not Roman wouldn't know, however he gave Annaliese a quick glance and slowly moved away. As much as he would love to spend some of his time chit-chatting, he couldn't bear to look unprofessional or ignore them. Hopefully she would understand. While the tent stood and while people were interested, the charmer needed to charm.

"I don't want to perform."

The woman was sprawled in the midst of four jet-black horses, all lying around her protectively, all exactly the same with bright, violet eyes to suit their mistress. She was wearing a costume, yes - a black lace dress, an elaborate headpiece to look like a skull...but she was spread out in the sand of the second-largest tent, the rows upon rows on empty chairs boxing her in. "I don't want to perform," she pleaded to the grey canvas roof, her only light was the artificial glow of the rest of the circus. It reached out to her, reminding her sickeningly of her new duty.

One of the horses nudged her tenderly, and the woman slowly and painfully got to her feet. Each horse was bare, but the coats shone with the amount of care that their mistress placed into them, making them spotless. The only change was their faces, for each had a different mask of paint upon them. The woman strode over to the light box, and choked out a couple of bitter sobs. "I d-don't want to," she moaned, hands shaking. She shoved the plunger on the box like it said something offensive to her and the horses moved backstage obediently, leaving a large ring of sand and no sign of life as the woman sat with her horses behind the curtain.

This wasn't the first time Diedra had crumbled a little before her stage performance, but she never permitted herself to cry in public, or show any signs of discomfort. Holding her shaking palms face-up to the sky, she stared at her wrists and, like she always did before a performance, focused hard and almost felt the metal shackles cutting away at her freedom. Her horses watched on in silence, resonating with the despair of their mistress, swaying a little as Diedra held her hands to the sky in a pleading motion. She prayed to long forgotten deities, the ones who were only alive because of her unflinching devotion, for salvation on her cursed form.

When nothing happened, the silence rung through the tent with the murmur of curious voices becoming as monotonous as the colour scheme. Then loud, carousel music boomed out of the speakers and Diedra climbed onto one of her horses, murmuring a call of good-luck. They all snorted comfortably in response, and trotted out onto the stage.

Diedra heard her own voice call out passionately over the music, from the speaker-boxes on the top of the tent. "Have you ever wondered what would happen if, in the sands of time, the four horsemen fell off their rotting steeds and succumbed to death?" she seemed to ask the audience, as the four horses trotted in a wide circle around the ring. Diedra stood up on one of their backs, head in her hands, a look of theatrical self-loathing emanating from her person. "What would become of their cursed beasts, where would they be forced to wander? Surely, you didn't think that a beast stronger and faster than a man could simply die with their owner?" said the voice, as the four horse stopped at each corner of the stage. Diedra climbed forward, balancing on the horse's neck, and then on her head. She spread her arms out wide as the music swelled to a manic degree, before shrieking "NO! THEY FIND A NEW MASTER TO FOLLOW, ONE STRONGER THAN THE APOCALYPSE COMBINED, AND OLDER THAN TIME ITSELF!"

Diedra broke off into loud, powerful laughter as the four horses reached in the air, keeping perfect balance before slipping off her mount and allowing them to continue the show. They were, at the very least, well-trained; they could jump through hoops, and even go so far as to stand on one another's backs whilst cantering around the sandy ring. Some of them did somersaults whilst the others demonstrated their strength, kicking 'rocks' into dusty gravel, neighing manically. Diedra herself was never still, either; when she wasn't dragging out new props for the horses to act, some of the horses would spontaneously act, grabbing her costume in their powerful jaws and flinging her into the air, only to land on another's back and be whisked around the stage. The roar of the crowd added to the constant blare of the music as her audience became more and more excited, At the finale, the horse performed a spectacular feat of charging through flames one after the other, towards the audience, before reading and slamming their hooves down on the barriers, causing the families bundled against it to shriek and fall back. Then, the music dropped to lower degrees of fury, before eventually calming down completely.

Diedra never created an 'end' for her acts, she never stopped the music from playing as she walked off, four horses in tow. Confused, the audience sat eagerly awaiting one final encore, but when they realised that the performance was over, they slowly started to file out of the tent. Diedra shrugged off her costume, and washed the horse's bodies with clean water before setting them loose upon the entirety of the circus. Some of the spectators from her previous show shrieked with surprise as the four black horses pounded across the circus, weaving between people, neighing and whinnying loudly as they ran laps around the tents.

A few minutes later, Diedra appeared at the curtains to Caius' tent, smiling wearily whilst wearing an arabian belly-dancing dress, her hair adorned with beads; a far call from the tight lace number she had on just a few moments before. It looked like she was trying to fit into Caius' décor, perhaps solely with the purpose of being able to sneak in during opening hours and hide out in the tent before her next show. "Caius," crooned the woman, not waiting for an answer as she sauntered into the tent and sat down on the floor instead of the chair. "My babies are stretching their legs, and I grow lonely in that big tent on my own. I hope you don't mind if I sit and look pretty during your acts..."

Immortal iridescent lights decorated the midnight canopy. No curtains made of clouds concealed them. André almost felt as though only a few years had passed instead of several decades when he looked at them. Yet there was little time to look at stars, for tonight was another of the many ‘Opening Nights,’ and he had a show to put on for those who might leave their generous donations.

Fanciful colours and decorations of showmanship would not have once been outside of André’s interest. Nevertheless, a life lived in without such had learned to ingrain itself into his mind and make it the norm. Inside his tent, the floor was half a stage and half a place for the curious to watch, whether they chose to stand or sit. Oil lanterns were primarily the source of lighting, hanging from ropes which were crossed from the ceiling and along the walls.

Wooden shelves lined the back of the stage, supporting many dozens of finely detailed puppets, all which dressed in the fanciest of monochrome clothing. Many wore that which reflected the early 1900s. Others were garbed in finery resembling the Upper Classes of famous European time periods. In addition this majority there were others dressed much more uniquely. A few looked traditionally Far Eastern, while two were dressed in ceremonial military uniform, three or four resembled the traditional garb of the Middle East, while a party girl of the 1920s could be seen next to a ballerina. Still, none looked more intentionally modern than the first half of the 20th century.

André stood at the centre of the stage, only a single of his marionettes had joined him. She was sitting crumpled on the ground, lifeless, just next to his right leg. The Puppeteer had been waiting for guests to fill in, until a sufficient amount arrived, he chose to remain still. After a significant number of individuals occupied the room he left his motionless stance. “It’s time, Marie,” he whispered to the puppet, before addressing the crowd.

“I welcome you to my show, dear ladies and gentlemen.” As he spoke André stretched out his right arm before bringing it across his torso for a bow. Marie stood up, imitating a curtsey in time with his gesture. When they were done, both stood straight, arms down and looking at the crowd. They were like this only for a moment before he took a step away from her and gave her a vexed look. She remained where she was, but turned to face him, tilting her head a little.

“Surely you can do better, Marie? Anyone can manage such a small gesture.” Her hand flickered up to her lip a moment before she swung it out widely. “A dance? Truly, a lovely suggestion!” With a wave of his arm in the direction of the shelves, three more puppets jumped lightly to the ground. One strode the stage over to where Marie stood, while the other two walked so they stood only a short distance away. “I think a waltz would be lovely, don’t you?” The four marionettes nodded. “Excellent!” André made his way to the record player which sat some distance from his lovely puppets. Aram Khachaturian’s Masquerade Waltz was the piece he’d chosen. The music swelled and they began to dance. Just the two pairs at first. Then more, as others sitting on the shelves chose to join in on the dance. Eight pairs ended up swirling around the stage, timed with near perfectness to the music.

Most of André’s act comprised of his marionettes performing various types of dances or performing silent sketches. His finale was when he encouraged at least half of his dolls to get down from their shelves and run around the stage, interacting with each other in various ways. At the end of these exchanges they would all move to find themselves a partner. The music would become more prominent as they engaged in one final dance, usually another waltz. Meanwhile the puppets on the shelves would hold tiny little candles, sized just for them. After that all the puppets on the stage would give a bow before walking back to their spot on the shelf. Just when the guests seemed to be unsure if it was over, all the marionettes and André would give a final bow.

“Adieu!” The Puppeteer called as the crowd made its leave of the tent. “Thank you for your patronage!” With a final salute he exited off the stage from the back and into the smaller adjoined tent. André was taking a personal intermission between his shows as there was hardly time to do so during the event. He sat himself down and opened a nearby bottle of Coca-Cola. Sometimes, it was nice to enjoy not being on the stage. However, this did cause him to think of things he’d been trying to not think of. While he was French at heart, that didn’t change the fact that the Cirque de Noir was currently quite close to the place that had been his home for the longest. A part of him wanted to go back, just to see. “Surely a bad idea,” he said to one of the few marionettes who had not joined his show. “Non?” No one would be alive now anyway. They couldn’t, could they?

Meanwhile, Marie remained behind on the stage, holding a sign which read: ‘Monsieur André is Currently Away.’

Tyrant from the West said

Silent said

Annaliese gave him an encouraging smile, yet she still looked like the vixen that she was, and spoke in her gentle tone of voice, "No offense is taken. There is nothing that can be said that hasn't been said to me before." Her face still held the sly grin, but her eyes flickered to show something that may have once been pain. But that flicker could have been just a slight change in the lighting or perhaps just a coincidence. "Well, no matter, the circus shall always provide you with anything that you may need to spice up your show, whether you say something to someone or not. It truly is... strange how there are no stagehands to been seen anymore though. Perhaps you don't find that strange." She tilted her head to the side, her some of her curly scarlet hair falling from the messy bun, and her expression was serious. "But perhaps... you should."

She was about to continue on with her warning about the Madame and keep an eye out for Tanner, but she did not have a chance before more patrons entered the tent. She gave him a pleasant smile, as if she had told him a joke. "Well, good luck, mon amie, please do stop by my tent when you have the time for a cup of tea." Then she turned and seemed to vanish into the shadows of the tent. She walked through the crowds, no one taking notice to her. To them, she appeared to be a child, although she looked down at her hand and saw her own hand. She knew that she wouldn't have to hide herself from the crowds, most would be too busy trying to find a tent to enter, but she didn't want to take the chance of running into one of her previous patrons or get an ear-full from Madame Sombre about how she should be in her tent more often than not. She doesn't need to know that I'm taking a stroll to visit the others during my breaks...

Upon entering Andre's tent, she sat down in one of the seat offered, now appearing to be an elderly woman in her early eighties. She sat there and watched him play with his dolls, clapping and laughing in all the right places, even though she had seen his shows many a time. She greatly enjoyed his tent, even though she would never admit it out loud to him. She waited until the show was done and stood up and, instead of leaving the tent, she sneaked into the back where he sat drinking a bottle of Coke. Upon placing herself in the shadows, she returned to her actual appearance and stood there, watching him talk to his dolls for a few moments before stepping out and into the light.

"A charming show, as always, Andre." She stated quietly. Her face no longer held its vixen grin or sly smirk. It was blank and empty of emotion as she was.

Caius was bored. After spending his life at sea before coming here, he had always found a way to keep himself entertained. It was hard for him to be bored. But doing the same thing day in and day out was starting to wear on him. He couldn't imagine how Diedra felt, the woman was the only performer who had been here longer than him, by about two hundred years. It was interesting to think about the fact that they wouldn't have even met if not for the circus. That was one of the few good things that came from this cruel fate, the people. Caius and Diedra were often called the parents of the circus by the other performers. Diedra had her motherly nature. And Caius his fatherly wisdom.

Caius had several more customers before somebody interesting finally showed up. It was Diedra herself. The fortune teller gave her a nod of greeting and watched silently as the woman took a seat on the floor. Her garb fit in with the theme of his tent, and he knew even before she said anything what she was here for. "Of course I don't mind. You're welcome here whenever and as long as you need." They may get in trouble with Madame Sombre, or Tanner, but that was only if either of them came around while Diedra was in here. But Caius wasn't afraid to them. Besides, what could they do? Not let him perform? He would welcome that change openly.

Another customer came in and Caius welcomed her the same way he did all his customers. "Who's that?" She asked when he only introduced himself. "That is my assistant." He said, the lie flowing easily as if he had used if before. Which he had. "The future is a fickle thing, she is here to make sure nothing goes wrong. Don't worry, its harmless to you. The only danger is to myself." She seemed a little nervous, but decided to get her fortune anyway.

When she left, Caius turned to address Diedra. "You know, you're a terrible assistant." He said, his tone light and teasing. "Why did I hire you again?" Before she could have the chance to answer, Caius continued. "Ah yes, that's right. I have a bottle of spiced rum in that trunk in the shadows." Caius pointed to said trunk. "I can't possibly drink it all and stay sober enough to tell fortunes. Perhaps you would like to join me?" Now that would get them into trouble if Madame Sombre or Tanner saw. But again, Caius didn't care.

“Might it be fairly impolite to intrude upon one’s own personal abode without declaration?” André questioned lightly, words tinted in slight with merry jest. “Alas, when company is such as yourself, one is hardly the type to complain.” He turned in his seat to better face her, letting a leg drop across the armrest. A part of him still felt the tug of courtesy to stand up; however, his little intermission was in part to avoid all the standing his show required. Therefore, he chose to remain seated.

“Bonsoir, Mademoiselle, et merci. Charming is most of what I aim for.” A thing about this place was it seemed the longer an individual stayed, the less common sincere smiles seemed. He’d like to have seen her smile—not the kind she adorned for her act—but something genuine. If that were not an option, certainly a plain face was better than a face of false delight. “Off from your tent though, while the show still runs, surely Madame Sombre would be one to complain?” Of those likely to be caught though, Annaliese seemed one of the least likely.

André swung himself from his chair. Courtesy had seized the moment. His movements had oddness to them, resembling the marionettes he so often spent time with. Originally it had been a trick of the show, he’d move in a way to make himself seem less realistic. Now he was not even entirely aware when he did it. An overdramatic flair to a gesture, or a disjointed and somewhat stiff way of moving were the most common and noticeable parts. In a smaller place like this, it was much less prominent.

Now standing, he took a brief moment to examine what looked like a flaw on his newest puppet. She was a porcelain and fragile thing, with a sorrowful expression and a narrow nose. Her skin was made to be pale white without a hint of grey while her eyes were tinted lavender. She was garbed in a wedding outfit. All white and not a shade of grey to be seen. Pearl replicates and tiny rose recreations were trailed all along her veil and dress. Even in such a small scale, he could not help but feel proud of her. He’d worked on her for quite some time, only finishing recently. If she were to be ruined after all his work, André would no doubt find his day worsened. Thankfully, it had been but a trick of the light, oil lamps, while comfortable, tended to be poor sometimes. With worries alleviated his attention returned to Annaliese.

“Might I interest you in a drink, my dear? I fear I’ve not been the fairest of host.” André moved over to a small cabinet type of thing which inside he knew contained several foods of his particular favourites. Next to it was an ice chest, the only thing in the room which seemed truly of modern design. “I’ve not tea or lemons to offer properly, yet, I’ve plenty of Cola and some coffee to warm.” Although something of a more proper etiquette, tea was not something the Puppeteer enjoyed often. André took a bottle of the soda from his ice box before taking the few steps to return him to where his chair sat. Placing the bottle on the armrest of the chair, it balanced timidly as he gave his doll another glance.

“Belle demoiselle, still requires a name. If you’d like I’d give you the opportune?”

--doubled post---

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"I'm just blowing a fag back here." Cocking an eyebrow at the circus goers, one of the newbies, this was--what? This was the second time he'd answer that way, and whether it was the general smoking or the underlying sexual humor, yet again he had gotten that sort of slack jawed reaction. It was going to lose it's novelty, as it often does with the younger members of their circus, and in time it would become all and only annoying in it's entirety. But for now...Odd didn't bother to look the person further in the eye and instead made a dismissive wave with his hand, only allowing himself to snicker out loud after they had left the tent.

Rolling the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other, he blew warm smoke out from between his lips and adjusted his seat on the crate, absently spinning the dial of the combination lock in hand. The lock in hand was solved many times over, and the dial was looser than the lips of a gossip, the sound of it's spinning had become one of this escape artist's morning prayer. From this spot in the back area of this main performance tent, he did not watch the normal people mill around from between the tent flaps, rather he chose this spot to instead watch the help work here and there. Bringing feed to hungry horses, voracious lions, and even more fierce in appetite performers. Cleaning the dropped popcorn, candy-caramel apples...animal droppings...

Taking a few more moments to mow down the rest of the cigarette, the boy shaped man brought the lock up and stubbed the cigarette out on the back of it, before getting off of his crate and slipping the butt into his pocket. Odd didn't want to get an earful like the last time he left a cigarette butt on the ground, littering on circus grounds...making the place less presentable. Yikes, and yikes alike. Rubbing the black ash off the back of his combination lock, he dropped it into his little coat pocket with the rest and stepped up to part the tent flaps, peeking into the connecting tent. From the looks of it, the audience just got done seeing an interesting performance.

Odd's own performance ran alongside, or in tandem with the circus acrobat's own. Either twists and folding on a chair or table in manners that would break your grandparent's back by merely observing the sight, or folding and unfolding from a tight clear box before a crowd, all while some acrobats are flipping around or up above on some high wires with a high stakes act. That being said, Odd himself was no master in acrobatics, nor were any acrobats as masterful in the contortionist arts as he. Still, when a performance had to go on, and either of were unable, the crowd wouldn't know the difference from a regular performance and a lesser performance with a substitute.

Frow where he stood away from it all, an acrobat beckoned him, and he could see that they'd like him at the center of it all. A clear box on a table was already set out, and the audience was already assembling at the stands. A clear box...that would have been a hell of a thing to be crammed into stead, when his father tossed him into the ocean...watching the endless, expansive abyss grow larger and nearer still, and being absolutely helpless. Shaking such thoughts from his head, Odd cartwheeled himself right on in, just as the light went down and the spot lights went on.

Diedra clearly didn't need an answer either way; she settled into the dimly lit tent and sprawled out over the floor sensuously, toying with her hair as her violet eyes regarded the scene with familiarity. Caius' tent always seemed to remind her of home; his refusal to use modern technology left it looking like the closest it would ever get to Diedra's gypsy caravans. The only downside to it is that when she did go missing from her stage, Madame Sombre and Tanner knew exactly where to look.

"I think she knows, you know." hummed Diedra pensively. It wasn't often she dropped the affectionate act, but it was clear that whatever was on Diedra's mind managed to break through the carapace of almost theatrical care and emotion that composes Diedra's personality. Just as Caius was the metaphorical father of the circus, she took on the motherly role; and it was only in each other's solitude that they dropped it and started talking seriously. "The missing people. You'd think...you'd think it would scare the little ones into working harder. Didn't you notice that?"

Diedra leaned forward, arching her back, her eyes wide and hungry with the flames of defiance and disgust. "Didn't you notice that?" she repeated more firmly. "No-one escapes the circus. They're dead, all of them. It's a ploy...Monochrome has found a way to kill us."

Diedra cut herself off as a new customer strolled in, she relaxed again and drew circles on the floor, smiling teasingly at the woman. The act of being a very promiscuous woman seemed to be so deeply ingrained into her personality that she couldn't really stop it anymore; nobody thought much of a whore, after all. Caius introduced Diedra as his 'assistant', and Diedra didn't change her act in the slightest. Assistants can still be pretty things in the background, like stage props.

Or, perhaps, like the missing stage-hands.

As soon as the woman left, Diedra dropped her act. She smiled coyly when spiced rum was mentioned, but held a hand up delicately, shaking her head. "I can't stay here for long, I realise. My babies are telling me I should return quickly. I thought...I thought you might need to know, because it's getting hard for me. And it's getting dangerous too."

Diedra looked away, and a rare moment took place in which all of the hundreds of years started to show on her features. She looked up at Caius with a shared sympathy of those in captivity, walking closer and twirling a lock of his hair around her finger. "I can tell now; sooner or later, me and Monochrome will butt heads again. And if she does, somehow, find a way past the enchantments around this place and kill me..."

Diedra's hand slipped from Caius' hair to his shoulder, gripping it tightly; only a fraction of her power is used, however. Caius would know full well she could probably crush his shoulder into bone fragments if she really was trying. But it wasn't a threat, it was a sign of fear, and a need for stability. "...Then by the Gods, make me into a martyr. Overthrow this black-and-white prison and have Monochrome's entrails decorating the gates."

"Nobody's safe anymore, not even her. We'll have that rum after performing hours, I think I'll need it." teased Diedra, twirling her fingers in the air dismissively as a dark, horse-shaped silhouette stopped in front of the tent to gnaw at some of the grass beside the entrance. Diedra was concealed by it's presence from a prying eye, as she slipped from Caius' tent back to her own, ripping off her costume and changing it back into the cold, black-and-white lace of her act.

The horses returned to the tent, and then the music started up again.

Silent said

Annaliese watched him with her sharp amber eyes, never missing anything. The tiniest of smiles formed on her lips, but whether it was real or fake, even she couldn't tell. "Ah, well, witches are known to be rude." She stated in a mocking tone. "Alas, I have to admit, I could have watched you for a little while longer. Maybe disguised myself as another of your dolls." Then she frowned slightly, biting her lip and then chuckled, "No, then you would immediately know that it was I." When he spoke of her company, she felt like a little spark of heat were still within her cold chest, but she pushed it away. Don't think about it. It's not real. "I'd prefer it if you would come to my tent as often as I find myself here, but I suppose, I lack an entrance a majority of the time." The tent she was given to call her own often lacked an entrance, or at least one that you could see. She distrusted everyone, although she had come to trust Andre, Diedra, and Caius more than anyone.

Then he mentioned something about Madame Sombre finding out that she had gone missing. She allowed a musical laugh to escape her throat. "Perhaps one day she'll manage to catch me away from my tent, but so far, I have managed to elude her. Tanner, on the other hand..." She'd been caught by him once before. Curse him for being a little more tricky than the Madame herself... She thought this on a daily basis, whenever she managed to come across him. She watched as he stood up like one of his own dolls and made his way over to what appeared to be a new one. She slowly stepped over, gazing at it, sorrow enveloping her at the sight of what the doll was. Pushing the sorrow away, she managed to ask in an unusually quiet tone, "A Cola will be fine, thank you..."

She slowly reached out and allowed a finger to brush against the pure white fabric before touching each of the pearls that represented the roses and turned them into tiny flowers made of the pearls. "If you would like, I can make sure that not a blemish will appear on her, or the rest of your dolls for that matter." She felt as if the doll's eyes were staring into her own, which was slightly disturbing, but leave it to Andre to create a doll that would be able to watch you as you watched it. She bent forward slightly, just so that she were able to get a closer look at its face and the finer details about its build. Every inch of the doll showed godly workmanship, nothing was frayed or even slightly unbalanced. How on earth...? She found herself wondering as she gazed intently upon the new doll.

Just when he had grabbed the drinks, she snapped out of it and returned to being the vixen that she normally appeared to be. She walked over to take one of the bottles and nearly dropped it when he said that the doll had needed a name. Her face showed a little bit of surprise as she glanced back at the doll and back at him. "I-I cannot give such a priceless doll a name."

He was nervous for Allaliese's response, but what she said certainly blew whatever he was expecting out of the water. If only because of how strange it was. It truly is... strange how there are no stagehands to been seen anymore though. Perhaps you don't find that strange. This is certainly food for thought. It was true, recently Roman hadn't seen any stagehands recently. How were those effects still taking place? His 'performances' wouldn't be much without their help. However, even though he hadn't seen any recently he was already performing as he was before! The lights, colors, and everything else was still going as it should be. "But perhaps... you should." She didn't need to tell him that, Roman already felt put off. More then he had in a decent while.

As Annaliese left his tent, she told him "Well, good luck, mon amie, please do stop by my tent when you have the time for a cup of tea." Roman instantly decided he would pick her up on the offer when he could, at least to apologize again about how quickly he had asked her to leave. He knew it was rude, but he had to perform well for Madame Sombre. After all, she gave him a job. He had to live up to her expectations! He knew others thought otherwise, and was still confused about why they were so against it, but alas now was not the time to dig into these intrusive thoughts. He had to go help his patrons!

And so, he went to those who came to visit. Pendents, charms, and trinkets all he gave away. He made it so everyone who came in left with something to give or keep. He knew some of their problems he couldn't solve even with Lady fortune. There are things no amount of luck or alterations could change. The inevitable is inevitable. If there was anything he knew to be true, its that sometimes no amount of power could change the outcomes the world sets. Even Roman can't always change the fate. However, for most of he customers he could. And that was enough for him!

As the evening bore on, he started wondering about when he would take a break. The customers slowed, and he was running low on trinkets. He saw the Aries and Virgo pendents were running low, and took note. Perhaps this would be a trend that would be kept? Either way, next time he needed supplies he planned on getting a surplus of those two now. After writing it down and adding it to the list of popular demands, he considered heading out soon. After all, even Roman couldn't stay on task too long. However, before his free-spirited self could float away from the tent, a group of teenage boys and girls entered.

"Well, maybe I could pester the others after this

Out of the shadows of the bleachers surrounding the ring came a figure with the presence of a fiend. An aura shot out from it's body, illuminating his surroundings in what seemed to be a bright red color. But those were only mind games, an essence of fear and wrath sprung up from the impurity of emotions. This fiend had the shape of a man standing at about six feet. He walked upon the sands of the arena, walking passed the pitch black stallions as he ran his gloved fingers through their mane. The horses shrieked at his touch, and the man's laugh echoed through his masked features. Not even the sound of thundering music could hide his short malevolent cackle.

Each footstep left a mark in the ring. His hands came together behind him as he spun to look at the empty domain. The gloom of this providence worked wonders for the upcoming act. The relation between colors was beautiful, despite it's sad ambiance. A touch of red it would strike fear into the eyes of the audience - so for that purpose, the color was absent. But as of this moment, the red was present. Not only did this mysterious man's aura sprout the illusion of the color, but the circle on the forehead of his mask wore it like a blessing. The mask strikes fear into everyone's eyes or so have complaints said. But this was nothing but trickery - a marvelous joke. It was a show, for this man did not deliberately bring terror, but encourage it for later pleasure. For his audience, he would first agitate them with fright, but then ease that fear through the illusion of comfort, feeding off their emotions as though they were animate. The man played with the mind, bolstering his act this way through seizure then relief.

Though his placing in this horse-filled tent wasn't for show. The masked man walked through the passageway towards the dressing room. His footsteps stopped before a grey colored curtain - which was the entrance in this case. Under his mask, his facial expression became calm, though nobody ever saw it during hours of operation. So with no hesitation, the effigy pierced through the curtains to find a woman strapping on her outfit.

"You look as beautiful as ever Diedra" the masked man - known as none other than Tanner - started. "Those colors are of delightful taste. I sometimes grow envious of you. You've got such wonderful eyes. They have this spark that bring forth beauty and power. If I took off this mask, I would be exiled for my appearance" he joked, giving a faint chuckle under the containment of his disguise. The man then sat down at a nearby chair, crossing his legs like a British gentleman, his hands clasped together on the edge of the table before him. "I was in here earlier after your show ended. Madame Sombre asked me to check up on you personally. Now why do you think that is?" he asked sarcastically, knowing the answer already. He was always known to be one step ahead.

Tanner then stood up from his seating, pushing the chair back towards the table. He walked up to the woman with a calm and collective manner, his hands clasped behind him yet again. He now stood about two to three feet from her, his eyes glowing blue under the mask. But it wasn't a blue of serenity or harmony, but this blue of chaos and disorder. "Have you ever heard the story of the Irish Rebellion of 1641?" he asked her, again knowing she was absent that knowledge. Then he continued, "Well, the Irish wanted Catholicism to spread over the English administration. They became violent and forceful in attempts to overthrow the English rule in areas of England, mainly Irish and Scottish Providences. But see, the Irish Catholics lost the battle to the English, failing to dispose of the Protestants. The Anti-Catholics kept their land and gained more geography. Despite having a larger army, one powered by the wealthy, they failed to surpass the mental strength of their enemy. They weren't smart enough."

After that, the masked man took a step back and smiled underneath his mask - his facial expression going unseen. "It would seem your show is starting, so I will take my leave. It was a pleasure speaking with you Diedra, let us do this again........On....healthier terms next time shall we?" And with a nod of adieu, Tanner vanished from the dressing room like a shadow in the night.

Caius thought about what Diedra had said, about Madame Sombre figuring out how to kill people through the curse. As he thought, he tugged on his left earlobe, a habit of his when he was lost in thought. "She was the one who cursed us, so perhaps there is a way for her to break through it." His usual calm mask had been replaced with his remaining eye narrowed into a dangerous look. People tended to forget that he was practically a pirate in his life, a pirate who delivered goods for England, but a pirate all the same. He may have been reduced to a fortune teller now, but he could still fight and would if needed.

Diedra decided to pass on the spiced rum, at least for now. It seemed she needed to get back to her own tent quickly, Tanner or Madame Sombre was probably involved in that. And as much as he wanted to share a drink with her, he understood completely. It was better that way. Diedra looked away then, and for a moment she looked as old as she was. This place really wore down on a person, and with as long as she had been here, Caius didn't blame her at all. He felt pretty old sometimes too, even though his body was still young. Diedra's hand moved to his hair, then to squeeze his shoulder as she mentioned Caius avenging her if she was to ever be killed by Madame Sombre.

Caius raised a hand and put it on Diedra's own. "If it came down to that, I would have Madame Sombre dead at my feet moments after your death. But it won't, because I'll be fighting by your side the moment you two butt heads. She may be able to kill one of at a time, but she can't kill us both." Caius was dead serious about that. Their only problem would be Tanner, but even he couldn't stop the two of them until after Madame Sombre was dead at their feet. And after that he would gladly die. It would mean finally having death's sweet embrace, but also nobody else would have to suffer their fate of eternity either.

Diedra mentioned having the rum after the show was over. "I look forward to it." Caius said, giving the woman a wave as she left, intelligently using one of her horses as cover. After waiting a minute to make sure no customers would be coming, Caius rose to his feet, striding over to the corner where the rum was hidden in a chest. That wasn't the only thing in the chest though. The fortune teller knelt on the ground in front of said chest and opened it. Underneath a few black and white cloths was two things. The first was the rum, the second was a dirk. The small weapon was in a sheath that had a strap on it, so that it could be attached to something other than a belt. It looked a bit old, but was well taken care of, and most certainly sharp. He had a feeling he should be carrying this around from now on. Just to be safe. He glanced at the entrance to the tent before removing the dirk from the chest. Moments later he had it strapped to his arm, underneath his long flowing sleeves. It was easy to hid, and also easy to get to if need be.

Caius quickly replaced the cloths, closed the chest, and returned to his seat. Just in time for another customer to appear. He got back to his work, hoping the rest of the night would go smoothly. But he had a feeling he could be receiving a visit from either Madame Sombre or Tanner. He was almost certain they knew about him and Diedra meeting during work hours. He didn't need to tell the future to see that.

The horse. The horse was the first and only warning.

Diedra paused, the music had stopped; someone was out there, and she felt the blast of fear from one of her horses. "Panic!" it said to her, and Diedra quickly kicked the belly-dancing dress to the side, still topless as Tanner seemed to melt through the curtains, not bothering to give note of his entrance. Diedra glanced over her shoulder at the man, seeing the cold mask and the dark coat, instantly recognising him.

The panic that her horses felt at Tanner's touch hung around her form like a stink, but her true emotions were seen sharply and clearly by Tanner. At the core of it, is that uncomfortable, agitated feeling of fear around Tanner, pulsating with Diedra's fast-beating heart. But (and this was especially notable when Tanner started complimenting on her appearance) this core-feeling of fear was washed over with waves and waves of anger, hatred and disgust.

Diedra was a curious person. When something made her scared, she got angry and annoyed at the source for doing so. But when it comes to Tanner and Madame Sombre, it's always the same reaction. She resented them both with such a fiery passion that, sooner or later during the conversation, Diedra's fear will ebb away, crushed by her own fury. Even now, her violet eyes narrowed and her lips pursed as she quickly gathered her dress over her breasts, arching her back and becoming stiff and tense.

"My eyes are up here, Tanner." gently reminded Diedra, her voice dripping with malice. This was strange, even for Diedra; by now, she would have been flinging insults and shouts at the man, but she was holding back. Tanner did not know Diedra's thoughts on the missing stagehands, but the fear took on a new shape; wariness. She was consciously holding back, for some reason or another.

She hasn't been wary around Madame Sombre or Tanner for centuries.

Outside, her horses stamped their feet, snorting loudly. They, too, were engulfed in Diedra's anger, and Diedra herself let loose a derisive scoff at Tanner's eye-colour change; such parlour tricks weren't going to scare her like they used to anymore. As well as the anecdotes; Diedra saw through them, starting to pick out the truth. She recoiled at the insults, and her mouth opened for a retort, but she stopped. She stopped again - this was very certainly not like Diedra at all.

It was when Tanner was leaving, that Diedra couldn't help herself anymore, and called out at his back "Wait!" desperately. Praying that he was just beyond the curtains, Diedra's voice hissed with disgust. "If the enchantments around here are breaking, and don't say they are not. We know of the stagehands." started Diedra, making sure she had his attention. A rat like him would love to scurry off to Madame Sombre and repeat it.

"This has never happened before. So give Monochrome a warning, from her most-loved performer. I want to speak to her, in private."

The fact alone that Diedra is applying rational thought instead of throwing insults is a plain hint that Diedra is concerned - either for her own safety, or for the well-being of the other performers. "If she is, as she likes to put it, 'too busy', then I'll only continue to stir things up until she has to speak to me. I want to speak to her at dawn this evening. That should give her plenty of time to...prepare. You can come back to me with her answer any time between then." ordered Diedra, turning around with her chin held high as she fixed on the headpiece of her costume. She left Tanner to stand there, half-expecting the man to come in and punish her for having the gall to order him around like that.

It didn't matter, to Diedra; she had to, even though she hated to, speak to Madame Sombre and find the root of the issue before anyone else goes missing, or gets killed. After all, the two of us have the same goal...keep the performers alive, reflected Diedra. She felt the bile rise in her throat as she compared herself to that witch of a woman.

Stitches said
She felt the bile rise in her throat as she compared herself to that witch of a woman.

As if summoned by the thought, Madame Sombre seemed to appear as elegantly as she always did. "Or how about we speak now, so that such a She strode into the tent, her skirt billowing behind her, as if there were a breeze in the air. She stood next to Tanner and placed a hand that gave the appearance of never working a day in her life on his shoulder. [b]"Thank you so much, my dear, but may I ask you to leave? I haven't seen Annaliese in her tent and she has a performance in about an hour. I'd like for her to... spice things up, maybe get a little more seductive than she normally does. The audience tonight seems to be rather mature and perhaps she should get out of her shell... and out of Andre's tent. And then maybe check in on our new addition to the family, Roman. I heard Annaliese speaking to him earlier, and we all know that she has nothing nice to say."

She then turned her black eyes to Diedra and gave her a loving and endearing smile that would make a normal person feel as if she had loved them their entire lives. How else could she have won the hearts of so many people and brought so many people to her beloved circus? "My dearest Diedra... I haven't been able to speak with you in such a long while, at least not one on one." She sat on thin air as if there were a seat beneath her. "Please, take a seat, it's on me." She then used some strange force to make the woman sit on the air like she was. Then she leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand and her elbow was held by nothing but the air. "I trust that you've said only good things about me, but you and Miss Annaliese are becoming very much alike nowadays. I've begun to worry that there might be something troubling the two of you into thinking tragic thoughts."

Sombre then sighed loudly, her eyes appearing to be the same age as she. The countless centuries that she had lived seemed to fade away when she made contact with the circus's patrons. Though she looked as if she were no older than thirty and no younger than twenty-seven. "Now, please do tell me what you've been meaning to say-- and don't bother with trying to put it nicely. We've known each other for centuries now, darling, and I know that pleasantries are no longer required between us."

“Ah, so you aim to reinforce the standard? How very conformist of you.” His words were still lacking in seriousness and he flashed her a crooked smile. “You’d have more luck impersonating myself and not getting caught than you would impersonating one of my dolls.” It was true. André was almost always aware the location of any of his puppets at any given time. Not that he wouldn’t notice if his doppelganger was standing a room with him. It was just the more plausible of the two. As for her remark on him visiting her more, a thing he certainly wouldn’t mind, he gave a reply which was at least half earnest. “I believe you might be capable of remedying that yourself, am I wrong? If no, I may be willing to dig my way in, now and again.”

“Both I and my marionettes darlings are delighted to hear such a thing. How would Mademoiselle go about preventing these unappealing mishaps?” André watched with a small and contented smile as Annaliese looked at the newest of his works. Then he added smile faded a degree, “Belle demoiselle believes you and she have similar eyes. She is also envious toward you, yet she will not tell me why.” He gave a shrug before grabbing the bottle and taking a small metal opener to it. After which he placed the Cola back onto the chair rest. His work desk was off limits for things which might potentially spill.

The newest of André’s puppets was certainly the best in regards to his craft abilities, not that the last ten or so hadn’t been quite a sight to behold. Afterall, honing a craft for nearly a century would make someone quite an artisan at it. Even considering that, he would have called them all precious. There was a part of them which he knew only he could hear. Sometimes, though, he did think others got close.

“Truly a shame.” Annaliese’s words were a compliment, but they also were somewhat not, in André’s opinion. They seemed to devalue a part of her self. “If you’d not like, my dear, I’d not be the thorn in you side, however… I do think that a name of your choosing would be an equally priceless name for belle demoiselle.” He gave a dismissive gesture with his left arm. “I’ve not a name for her yet. Perhaps something fitting will come to you. If so my offer remains open until I do.” André then smiled at her. Company certainly made this place more bearable. Hers more than some. How much longer until your next show, my dear?” André asked. It would not please him if he was a cause to delay her. Not that he had any desire for her to leave.