FreckersFrog

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

"Mhm!" Cora nodded enthusiastically in agreement, then looked down at the clothing that Akane offered her. She took the dress, still smiling and began exchanging her robe for it.

"You always pick the most pretty clothes, Akane, thank you for coming to help me." She wiggled out of her robe, then pulled the dress on over her head, shimmying a little to get it on in her chair. Over time, she had become very practiced at dressing while sitting down. Once she was finished, she smoothed the skirt out over her still-damp legs and smiled up at the Kistune, "How do I look?" she asked, showing her teeth as she smiled up at Akane.

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Geralt's smile widened as Lucien accepted his offer, then he set his mug down before making his way over to where the pot was sitting, still hot from earlier. "I'm so glad you said yes," he said, glancing over his shoulder briefly as he found a mug, "This is the last of the beans I managed to bring back from the Republic of Peru." This was also true. Geralt may have been simple in his interior needs, but he liked to consider himself a worldly person. Travel had been one of his passions in life, and although he had not visited as many places as he would have liked, bringing little tastes like this coffee home with him was one way of keeping everything fresh to his tongue.

He heard Aurel approach as he was pouring, then glanced over his shoulder at the young man. "Ah, guten morgen, Aurel. Möchtest du einen kaffee? I was just pouring Lucien a cup." Geralt was many things, but no one could say he wasn't generous.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Faolan nearly flinched when he heard Lucien begin to describe the creature, and the transformation. Even after what he had seen, what Faolan had done to him, he was still more worried about Faolan's pain than his own safety. It would have baffled him if it were anyone aside from Lucien.

Some of what he described he knew already, just from the vague images he could remember and piece together from the night. Of course, the beast could look down on itself or view its reflection in a puddle, but Faolan's chances of remembering something like that were almost zero. It had been many years, and many changes, and still it had never happened. The creature was far more intent on expending every last bit of its energy, and feeding, than it was on self-discovery.

Faolan found himself comforted when Lucien took his notebook out and began to draw. There was something calming about the way his pencil moved rhythmically across the page. Faolan watched this more as a collection of lines than anything else and he found himself getting lost in it. Really, Lucien was quite good, and he looked so focused on the page. Watching his face for a moment, Faolan felt the corner of his mouth twitch into a half-smile, but it faded quickly.

After he was finished, Faolan found himself looking at the page, feeling somewhat detached from what he was seeing. Of course, it made sense, and it reminded him of the brief encounter he had had with the creature that had attacked him in the woods. It looked like he felt when he wore its skin: viscous, unrelenting, and hungry.

When he had studied it well, he nodded as if in acceptance. "Thank you." he said, then turned away and looked back out over the water.

After another pause, he felt his lips moving on their own, "So...you're staying then?" He asked, still feeling detached. At this point, he wasn't sure what he wanted the answer to be.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Cora smiled brightly down at Akane as she entered, balancing herself on the edge of the tank with her torso up out of the water. It would have been strange for any other viewer, but Akane was used to the sight: above the water, Cora resembled a human exactly, but once her body was submerged in water, it took on that of her true form. Her legs were fused together in a long greenish-blue tail that swayed back and forth under the water, her fin almost transparent. At first, this discovery had been very strange for Cora, as she had never poked her head out of the water until...well, the day she had been forced to. It felt strange as well, but she quickly got over that. There were more uncomfortable things to feel abovewater, she had learned that very quickly.

"Okay!" she said in response to Akane as she positioned her self and slid down out of the tank and onto the floor of the trailer. The others in the troupe had helped placed a bundle of dry towels there to absorb some of the water, but they would need changing soon. Once she was on the floor, she grabbed the damp robe from the ground and draped it over her shoulders, wrapping it about her torso before climbing into her chair, using only the strength of her arms. By the time Akane had approached, she was brushing out her long straight hair with her fingers.

"Oh no," she said in response to Akane's question, "I was still sleeping when you came, actually. It was okay!" She smiled, then looked around the dark room. Without her skylight open, it was almost pitch black in here, not that that was a problem for either of its current inhabitants. "What time is it, anyway?" She cocked her head to one side, curious. Usually, she woke up rather "early", from what the others had told her, but it was hard to tell with no outside source of light or air just how early it was.

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Illyana had noticed Geralt reaching for her only as he pulled his hand away, and the muscles in her face tightened even more. As Lucien stepped up behind her, she jumped again, nearly bumping him. She looked around, confused for a moment, then felt him take the clipboard from her hands. She looked up at Lucien as a scolded child would, then sighed and nodded, before heading over to the various dishes that had been covered to keep warm and sanitized, giving Geralt a wide berth as she did so.

Geralt watched this unfold and his expression never changed. He watched Illyana skirt him and move toward the food that had been left out, then looked back at Lucien as the two made their way over to where he had been seated before. "I was just telling the young Madame that she should eat some before working...but I suppose that's why you're the boss, isn't it?" He said as they sat down, raising his mug of coffee in a mock toast.

He paused before lowering himself all the way, and held the mug out, "Oh, that reminds me, coffee?" He asked the ringleader, smiling toothily.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Faolan spent a good amount of time in the cool water, rinsing his skin, his hair, washing his mouth out until he could no longer taste the blood. Halfway through this ritual, he waded back to shore and retrieved a bar of soap and jar of Pepsodent to clean himself and his teeth. Once he was done with this, he returned the items to his bag and simply floated in the water for a while. He tried to keep his mind blank, but images of the previous night continued to assault his brain, as they usually did. For a moment he was chasing a deer, then he was rubbing himself against a tree, then digging, then reaching for something that flew above his head, blood raining down on him...it was all a mess of images and sounds and smells, tastes and feelings. He hated every second of it, but over time he had begun to remember more and more. Maybe this was bad, maybe it was good, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Once he felt rejuvenated by the cool water, and properly iced down and relaxed, he waded back out, dried and dressed himself in fresh clothing, then sat on the bank, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his elbows on them as he looked out across the placid lake.

He glanced briefly at Lucien, wanting to speak but not knowing what to say. He dropped his gaze and looked away again. He couldn't fathom why on earth Lucien would want to stay with him after what he had witnessed...what Faolan had done. If it were him, he would have cut and run as soon as the transformation had begun. Although he had never actually seen the transformation himself as he usually blacked out around the time it began, he could feel enough to know it must be horrifying to watch.

It occurred to him then that, although he knew vaguely what the other beast that attacked him looked like, he had never actually seen himself in that "form". It was strange, realizing this, and suddenly he wanted to know.

"Lucien," he heard himself say, quietly, as he looked at the water, "Can you...can you help me with something?"

"Yes, of course. What do you need?" As Faolan spoke, Lucien put his calendar away and grabbed his bag before rising to his feet and walking over to him, taking a seat beside him and watching him attentively.

Faolan never took his eyes off of the water, feeling, of all things, shame, as Lucien took a seat next to him on the bank. "Could you...maybe tell me what it's like? The...change?" His voice was tentative as he asked, which was unusual for him, but, then again, so was the question.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Cora had not bothered to rise with the sun that morning, and had kept the skylight in the top of her trailer shut. Usually the day after a performance, she preferred to sleep in anyway.

She was lying at the bottom of her tank, on her side asleep when she heard the knock at the door and Akane's voice from the other side. She woke up immediately and turned toward the sound as a slow and tired smile crept across her lips.

Come in! She shouted, but only a burst of bubbles escaped her mouth and floated to the top of her tank. She noticed this right away and rolled her eyes at herself before pushing herself to the surface of the tank. "Come in!" she said, this time her voice carrying across the air.

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Illyana had awoken at dawn with a start, in her bed with a book lying open on her chest. She had tried desperately to go to sleep without doing any more research in an attempt to appease Lucien, but wasn't able to help herself. There was just one more thing she wanted to check out before she was satisfied enough to sleep. Unfortunately, though she had spent some time reading the night before, she couldn't remember any of it now.

With a sigh, she pushed the book off of her into the pile that had collected on her bed, and yawned before rising. She dressed quickly, her stomach growling as she did so. She usually helped cook breakfast in the mornings, and at the least always did a check of their supplies before the days meals were prepared. Lucien was the Ringleader, of course, but he couldn't do everything, and it was usually Illy who picked up the slack.

She left her trailer, making sure to don her hat first, and squinted in the morning light as she wrapped the light blue shawl she was wearing a little tighter around her shoulders. It was not as early as she had hoped, but she did not yet smell sizzling bacon on the air, so she figured she had enough time. She had taken the clipboard with the mess inventory on it and made her way across the grounds to the windbreak they had set up against the slight incline that made the hills around them.

She slowed, however, when she noticed a lone figure sitting at one of the tables, reading a newspaper and clutching a steaming cup in his hand. Her face immediately soured as she noted the black travel boots, trousers, and un-tucked button-down that Geralt was wearing as he lounged in one of the chairs. Although this was not ideal in any way for her, as she spotted no one else around at the moment, she would not let the troupe's new member disrupt her routine.

She set her mouth in a hard line, her brows beneath her cloche hat furrowed, and walked to the mess area, making a point not to look in the Magician's direction.

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It had taken only a couple of hours for Geralt to set up his trailer and clean some of the debris that the carnies had undoubtedly left behind. Once he had finished, he'd sat and read for a while before drifting off into a fitful sleep. After a couple of hours of this, he had awoken and busied himself with finishing touches in the early hours of the morning. Afterward, he had made his way over to the mess area to eat. Seeing no one else up and about, he had simply had a seat, taking this time to enjoy some coffee and a paper in the crisp fresh air. Thoughts of the night before still lingered on his mind, and he found it harder than usual to distract himself.

After a while, he sensed movement and glanced up from his paper to see the young gypsy crossing the grounds toward him. He noted her appearance, no makeup, and she looked particularly tired, but maybe he was just noticing it now without the dark circles that had concealed her exhaustion the night before. He watched her as she made her way towards him, noting that she specifically avoided his gaze as she made her way over. This made him smile. Her rigid reluctance to show him kindness was amusing, as if he cared about her opinion. There was only one person's eye he wanted to catch, although he knew that his interactions with the Troupe would greatly effect the way the Ringleader saw him. He had made good progress in his first night, no need to waste it by being nasty now, even though he so craved it.

When she got closer, he lowered the paper and followed her by turning his head in her direction as she walked by. "Good morning, Miss Brewer." He said politely. He noticed her glance hurriedly in his direction and mutter a response that he could barely hear. She had a clipboard in her hand, and turned her back to him as she began checking things off of a list of some sort. She really was quite the little worker bee.

Geralt folded his paper neatly and set it on the table before him, looking at Illyana's back as she worked. "I made coffee, would you like some?" He asked, and stood before she could respond.

Illyana glanced over her shoulder, doing her best to conceal her annoyance, and shook her head, "No thank you, I prefer tea."

Geralt, still smiling and staring, made his way around the table and approached Illy, steaming cup in hand. "Are you sure, I don't like to brag but...well, who am I kidding?" He chuckled quietly to himself, sipping from his mug as he reached her, and peered over her shoulder at the list she was carrying.

Illyana was trying to focus on her list and ignore their newest member. It was too early in the morning for a conversation with him just yet, she may not be as on her guard as she needed to be. She was so absorbed in her task that she didn't hear him come up right behind her.

Geralt took a moment to look over the list, an inventory of some type. "Hm, inventory before the meal? Now that's dedication."

Illyana started when Geralt spoke and jumped away, clutching the board to her chest. She turned toward him, her hip bumping the table and rattling the metal canisters and cups that sat on it. Her cheeks were red, and her eyes wide. She had not even felt him come up behind her.

"Oh," he said, setting his cup down and stepping toward her, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He reached for her elbow, which was bare now that she had jumped away from him and her shawl had fallen by.

Illyana adjusted her shawl a little, looking away from Geralt as she responded. "It's fine, I just...I was focusing."

Geralt couldn't help but let a small smile creep across his lips, but dropped his hand as he noticed movement behind Illyana. "Hm, now I see why you don't drink coffee..."

Illyana, her brows furrowed, opened her mouth to respond as Lucien arrived.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Faolan absently nodded upon hearing Lucien's words. It took him a moment to full process them, but when he did, he made the move to stand. Still clutching the canteen, he leaned forward and steadied himself with his free hand before pushing himself to his feet. He was a little wobbly for a moment, and only vaguely aware of Lucien right in front of him. He supposed this is what shell shock might be like, or as close as he would get to it.

He made to walk, and slowly his body warmed and became accustomed to movement again. He followed Lucien, watching his head bob from side to side with each step. Occasionally, he would glance down at Lucien's torn clothing and feel a pang of guilt and anger, but it would pass quickly. The lad was limping, but he was walking at least, Faolan was sure it was merely a flesh wound. If Lucien had been any slower, or a normal human for that matter...Faolan didn't want to think about that.

Eventually, they reached the lake Lucien had mentioned. Absently, as if he was sleepwalking, Faolan dropped the canteen on the ground and began to undress again before he waded into the ice cold water. He was glad for it, it sharpened his sense and dulled the ache in his muscles. He splashed the water on his face and scrubbed his skin until it was raw and red, but clean. He would not leave the water with a speck of Lucien's blood anywhere on his body, he couldn't stand the sight of it.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Geralt slipped down the stairs of Lucien's trailer as light as a father and made his way the short distance to his own door. Even now that he was alone, he couldn't help but smile to himself. Her first solo encounters with the Ringmaster had gone better than expected. Although the man was surely still weary of him, as any intelligent person would be, he knew that his natural charm was already working its own magic upon the Frenchman. As long as Geralt was careful, he would have Lucien exactly where he wanted him.

You have done well, human...they are not aware of me. Though they try, they will not find me. I hide within your very soul. I will have them for our Lord and he will rewaaardd.

The gleeful darkness of the voice swirled through Geralt's mind as he stepped up the stairs and opened the door and the smile instantly dropped from his features. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, rather roughly in his annoyance.

He took a moment to assess the inside of the trailer. Although it was cramped and spare, he rather liked it at first glance. While Geralt had grown up with more space in his home than he knew what to do with, his adult life had been full of small dingy spaces. This was far from the worst place he had lived. Over the years, he found himself quite enjoying small spaces, he had never been one for ostentation in his private life. He did that for a living, why bring it home?

He crossed the small space and tested the bed. It creaked hard under the small amount of weight he added to it and a plume of dust dispersed from it as he pressed down. He sighed, "Well, that won't do..." he said under his breath.

No space fit for a King, burn it to the ground...

"Now, now, that's a little excessive, wouldn't you say?" He whispered to himself as he opened the briefcase that was now lying on his mattress.

I spit on their attempt at lodging.

"Well, that's what you said about the last place and we ended up staying there for a year." He said as he reached into the briefcase up to his elbow, searching for something.

It would take a majority of the night to get everything set up correctly, even for him, so he started now.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

There wasn't a day that went by that Faolan didn't think of his parents and the others that had died the day of his first fateful transformation into the beast. It was usually fond memories, mostly of himself and his sister when they were young, and the slight twinges of pain at their recall had faded over time. It was only close to the full moon that he ever felt any sense of guilt or sadness. Deep down he had always known it was not his fault, but that didn't stop their deaths from being on his hands.

Sharing this most intimate of details with another person...it did not give the immediate relief and peace of mind he may have expected. Still, there was a sense of calm that had fallen over the two men as Faolan finished his story. It was done, and he never had to voice it again if he didn't want to. He trusted Lucien, even with this, and he knew that the words that followed were absolutely true.

But that did not ease his heart. His whole life he had tried to desperately to keep others safe from the horror that borrowed his body once every month. He had given up companions, the possibility of friends and a family of his own, a permanent home, all to protect others from himself. The image of Lucien's torn clothes, his bloody leg...all of his precautions and still he had hurt the one person he cared for in this world. It was frustrating, to say the least. He knew in his mind that the best option was to separate, now, before anything else could happen to the boy. Even a life of servitude as a priest would be better than the constant threat of danger that staying with Faolan would bring. Lucien had to see that, didn't he?

Despite this knowledge, he could not imagine it. It had been only a year and yet Faolan had changed so much. Lucien had done that, made him a kinder and more patient person. Being along had made him hard and rough, but Lucien had softened those edges. He felt good, this new version of himself that was allowed to laugh and forget, just for a moment, that this terrible creature lived inside of him. But did he deserve this chance at happiness?

He didn't know, he wasn't sure he ever would.

Finally, after a long silence of Faolan listening to Lucien but not looking up, staring down at his dirt and blood caked palms, he raised his head to look at the Frenchman. "Lucien...I..." he started slowly, his voice still rough and heavily accented as his brain readjusted to being himself, "The thought of hurting you..." he looked away, but only briefly, "Of hurting anyone...I can't do that again." Despite how vulnerable Faolan felt and appeared in this moment, his words were final. This was a non-negotiable truth, and he had to make Lucien understand.

"I could have killed you, et you even. It's so...It gets so hungry." He said, his voice cracking from the strain as his eyes began to blur. "I couldn't live with myself if it happened again." Faolan had never considered suicide; knowing how his mother had felt about it, he could not bring himself to sully her memory in that way...but Lucien's death, his dismemberment, it may be enough to push him over the edge. Just the thought that he had consumed human flesh made him feel sick, and now he was doing all he could to keep himself from retching.

After taking a moment to compose himself, he swallowed hard, and found himself reaching for the canteen, not to clean his hands with, but to drink from. He simply held it, feeling how still and cool the metal was as a way to steady himself. "We can't let it happen, do you understand?"

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

If Faolan had been a crier, he would have broken down there in front of Lucien, but he had never been one for tears. Besides, he was too exhausted to weep even if he could. Now that all of the anger had left him, Faolan felt almost relieved. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, though he had never realized he had been carrying one in the first place. Lucien knew, and now there was nothing to hide. He could let everything go, what would be the harm? It had been almost twenty years since he had left the farm and truly begun his life. In all that time, he had shared with no one what had happened. Would this give his family's memory some peace?

He started speaking without really thinking about it, just absently, like he was an automatic doll. "I grew up on a small farm, south of Ireland, poor. In those days us Cluchies really had no prospects. Me da taught me to hunt, to fish, fix things...help around the house. Me ma taught me and me sister, Fiona, to cook...it was simple, easy."

"One night, I'd been out huntin'. I was sleepin' out there in the woods, tracking a deer, and I heard this sound like crashing waves. I thought the whole forest was comin' down on me head. I jumped up and saw that deer run passed me, straight through the trees with wild eyes. Then this...this beast, eight feet tall, glowin' eyes, claws like a bear's, came after it. It stopped when it saw me, turned on me. It took a chunk out of me shoulder," at this, Faolan stretched his neck out instinctively, showing the scar on his trapezius muscle that wrapped around his back. "But I had me knife, I got 'im in the eye. It ran, howlin' and spittin'."

"I don't remember gettin' home. I stumbled in a couple hours later, sweatin', nearly bled to death. Me ma and da patched me up, laid me down. I had a fever for a week, delirious and all. I don't remember it. Everyone was shocked when I pulled through, doctor said he was sure I'd pass on. Me ma prayed at me bedside every day and every night, said it was the Lord that saved me. But it weren't no Lord..."

"I healed up quick, regained my strength, and was back out doin' normal tasks within a fortnight. I didn't venture too far into the woods, and most didn't believe what I'd seen, thought it was the fever givin' me visions...but I knew, as soon as those teeth sunk into me, I knew it was real."

"Two weeks later, it happened." Faolan paused a moment and looked down at his bloody palms, then tried to wipe them on his pant legs, but to no avail. The red stained his skin. "I shifted, for the first time. I didn't know what was happening, woke the whole damn village with my hollerin'. When I came to...well, they were dead. Me da and ma...little Fiona, couple of neighbors, the Doctor and his wife. I'd killed them all, eaten some." There was another small pause, "and then I left," he finished.

Throughout the tale, Faolan's voice had been even and low. He was telling it as if it had all happened to someone else. Despite his seemingly detached state, the memories hurt to relive. The telling, though, that was not painful. In fact, it was liberating. For the first time, someone else knew what he had seen and done, knew the reasons for his self-induced isolation and why he was so protective of his privacy. Though he was not happy with how this had come about, he could not deny the feeling of satisfaction that came with this release.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Geralt couldn't help but let his face fall the moment Lucien mentioned that their night together had to end. He had doubted that anything would happen between them tonight, but there had still been a tiny sliver of hope that he would at least get a little more than excellent wine and mediocre conversation. Well, either way, a night spent with Lucien was definitely no night wasted.

He absently took the small pocket-watch type object out of his vest pocket and checked it before replacing it and moving away from the desk, empty glass in hand. "Yes, yes, how time flies and all of that." At Lucien's unpacking comment, he couldn't help but let out a genuine chuckle. "Well, I hope the rest of my 'tricks' aren't that easy to anticipate." He walked over and placed his glass on the table next to Lucien's and the nearly full Cabernet. Almost absent-mindlessly, he placed a hand on the mouths of the glasses, quicker than the eye could catch, he lowered his palm until they were flat on the table. The glasses were gone when he moved away.

"Oh, please, there is absolutely nothing to forgive. I appreciate your hospitality, more than I can say. I hope this won't be the last time I...impose upon you." He said as the two of them moved together toward the door. Once they were at it, he opened it and stepped halfway out, his foot on the first step, before he turned to Lucien and added, "Now you see me..." and winked, before taking his leave and closing the door behind him.