Five spoonfuls of honey, four cubes of sugar. A bit over-excessive, yes, but Sigmund had never been much of a man for tea, and turning the offering down seemed out of taste. So he chugged down the sugary mix as he listened to the ringmaster talk, and the faint skitter of his little spider collection against the tent’s walls. Despite being relatively mindless, he could swear that the creatures had some sort of separation anxiety or what-have-you. He took another gulp. 

Sigmund hardly considered himself close to Michael. There were those that mourned him- friends, a lover. The death of one of their own rarely went without pain, and even the less loved elicited thoughts of mortality across the circus. Reminded people what, exactly, they had signed up for. He sympathized with them. Death was the grim inevitability, and something Sigmund had come to realize even when his soul was still in its rightful place. 

Wiping his sleeve across his face, Sigmund placed his empty teacup upon its saucer and looked up. [color=#989898]“If it’s all the same to you, Mr. Marcus, I think I’ll be staying. I’ve never been one for active combat.”[/color]

Then, to the performers that remained, [color=#989898]“I’ve taken the liberty of scheduling you all for a checkup later this week. I expect for all of you to be there. I won’t be happy if you aren’t.”[/color]

With that, he rose, nodded to those assembled, and took his leave out of the tent. Before he could get too far, however, Sigmund quickly poked his head back into the tent. 

[color=#989898]“Thank you for the tea.”[/color]

The spiders took little hesitation in scaling his body as soon as he was out, finding their homes in his clothes and elsewhere. He grimaced a little at the feeling before returning to his tent, readying himself to welcome any circus-goers or patients that might drop by.

And so it went.

[hr]

Dawn’s had given the Devil’s Jester a warm [color=#B048B5]“Hello, Luciel,”[/color] upon slipping in, settling upon the cushions at the ringmaster’s bidding, although her lips had arranged themselves into a grim line as Marcus detailed the purpose of their Hunt. Purge Michael’s hometown of the Wurms, and lay his remains to rest. It was the final kindness they would be able to do for him, aside from consoling his lover to the best of their ability. And even that might no longer be an option, if they denied a contract. 

She finished her tea, hands stealing what little remained of its heat. For all the years that some of them had lived, the pain of loss never seemed to lose its impact. She could see it in the tightening of Rel’s hands, the stiffness in Jessie’s shoulders, the haunted look in the young Juliet’s eyes. It sent a certain pang through Dawn’s chest as she set her cup down, eyes shutting for a few moments. She would seek them out after all was said and done. Even if they were brought together for differing reasons, they still shared circumstances. A little companionship was something they all desperately needed- especially in a time like this.

For now, however, Dawn’s focus was on keeping the teammates who were heading to battle alive. That was something she gripped and held onto, digging in deep. She would make sure that they would live to see another day, and that Michael got the proper burial that he had earned. 

She rose, once again covering her head as she stood. [color=#B048B5]“None on this end, I think. Questions, I mean.”[/color] Dawn cast a glance down at Luciel and Rel, then back up at Marcus, nodding. [color=#B048B5]“Thank you. And, ah. The tea was lovely, by the way.”[/color] With that, she took her leave, climbing swiftly into her cab and quietly reaffirming the directions to her driver. 

Her fingers curled into her skirt, enough so to draw blood from the flesh beneath.