A True Name:
A Stage Name
The Cryptic Conjurer
The Date One Joined the Circus
December 13th, 1855
An Act One Performs when not on the combat team:
Dawn is a magician with the schtick of making things disappear and reappear at will, or “changing” things into others- cards, guns, herself. Her power is the access to a sort of hammerspace, allowing her to store items within and draw them out as she pleases for performances and hunts alike. In addition, she can also pull herself into this space for a short period, effectively using it as a means of teleportation if necessary. She cannot bring anything larger than herself into her hammerspace, however, and she can’t bring any other living creature in besides herself.
Her Compulsion is that, if someone happens to be speaking to her, she must stay and listen until they have finished, or have been made to stop talking.
Seeing as she has been part of the circus for over a hundred years now, this has given her the patience of a saint.
Why One Joined the Circus:
Dawn joined in hopes of protecting those who needed it, having caught sight of members fighting off a daemon in the streets near her house (and, as she has admitted in her later years, to have a sense of purpose in life). She tailed them back to the circus, and, after doing a bit of digging, approached the ringmaster. She asked her questions, had what could be answered answered, and, after giving it some thought, chose to forge a contract with him- her side of the bargain being that he would erase the memories of her family, not wishing for them to grieve her disappearance.
The youngest child of the Memoli family, Dawn was born the child of a European native and his American-immigrated wife. She grew up in the city of Lucca, Italy, years before Italy had come to exist, and lived in a decently well-off household for the times. For most of her childhood, the focus of her parents was directed onto her brother- the only son- but after he slept his way out of their graces and fathered a child out of wedlock, their eyes shifted to Dawn. In an effort to maintain their reputation after the little scandal, they set themselves to grooming her into a “respectable” lady. On the surface, Dawn appeared content with the decision, although she privately taught herself how to read and developed a dangerous interest in the matters of the world. Eventually, the Memolis were able to conceive another son after years of trying, and much of the pressure that had been upon her tapered off once again. While she doted on her new brother, the relationship between Dawn and her parents became somewhat distant, if not a bit strained due to a gradual shift of ideologies.
One day, a circus came to the city- boasting all sorts of lights and attractions and mischiefs. Dawn’s family left to attend, leaving her to her own devices in the house. Not long after they had gone, however, she was drawn from the house by the sounds of shouts and cries of alarm. Concealing herself in the shadows of the alley, Dawn found herself watching a confrontation between a group of oddly-dressed individuals- ones that wielded fire, ice, and the very winds themselves at their fingertips- and a disturbing creature. Eventually, the troupe managed to take down the daemon, and left to return to wherever they had came.
They didn’t go alone, however. Dawn was unable to simply brush off what she had seen, and decided to tail the group, determined to seek out answers. She followed them to the very same circus her family had decided to visit, and approached the ringmaster, politely explaining her reason for her arrival. After receiving as much of an explanation as she could gain, Dawn asked if she could join as well. She contracted with him that night, her wish being that her family would forget about her.
Throughout the years that she has been with the circus, Dawn has thrown herself into her work, hunting down daemons and working as one of the intel hunters of the circus when not performing- through research or otherwise.
Although, lately, she has seemed a bit more sober than before. Bothered.
Dawn tends to be a fairly amiable presence around the circus, if not a bit formal and soft-spoken. She’s willing to offer advice to those who ask for it, and is typically willing to set aside the time if someone wishes to speak with her- partly because her contract doesn’t allow her much choice otherwise. When not otherwise preoccupied, Dawn will often be brushing up her knowledge on whatever city the circus is attending at the moment, making her a good source of information to those in need of it.
She can occasionally be found in Sigmund’s tent, getting a refill on her pill prescription. The two are on decent enough terms, although they’re hardly close.
The “Cryptic Conjurer”, Harley thought, was shorter than her name was long.
She was a wisp of a woman, all dark hair and pale skin and gloomy eyes as she took center stage, waving up at the audience with one hand. The fact that she was all dolled up in black- save for the little red flower-brooch-thing pinned to her lapel- didn’t do her too much favor when it came to having a stage presence. As Harley idly thumbed the cigarettes in her pocket (at the ringleader’s announcement, she had quickly snuffed her old one out, grinding it into the stand with her heel), the Conjurer clapped her hands together, then drew them apart to reveal-
Harley leaned forward, squinting. In what had earlier been completely empty hands, there was now a large wad of fabric- tablecloth or something. The woman unravelled it with deft movements, gave it a little shake to show that nothing was inside, and tossed it over the empty table beside her.
Upon pulling it away, she revealed a set of neatly arranged glass bottles, and one single revolver, metal winking in the spotlight. The audience clapped politely, although it was pretty obvious that they weren’t too impressed by the little trick. Hell, Harley herself wasn’t, either. Compared to the chick who burned herself nude, or that floating-teleport guy, it was a bit less...much. The magician didn’t seem unfazed by the lack of response, however, instead grabbing the gun from the table in one hand, and several bottles in the other. Smiling, she tossed the latter into the air, and shot each bottle before they had completed their descent. Shards of colored glass rained down upon her, and CC lifted her hands to catch them, seemingly oblivious to the threat they held.
Her hands, which just so happened to be glowing with a pale light.
There was a flash of light, and when it faded, all the fragments had...vanished. The Conjurer took a moment to dust herself off, holding out her palms to show that they were empty, then rolling down her sleeves. No secrets there. Once she was satisfied that the audience had seen, she threw up her arm, as if throwing an invisible ball- only for thousands of violet petals to shoot out from her fingers, raining down from the tent’s roof.
Harley reached out, catching one, then ran it between her finger and thumb. Anemone blossoms. She looked up to see the Conjurer seemingly slip her revolver into her hand- not picking up, but pushing it through like if her hand wasn’t there in the first place- then bow deeply before unceremoniously slipping off stage and out of sight, petals fluttering behind her before coming to a still.