FreckersFrog

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Faolan, as usual, listened in silence. He wasn't surprised to hear of Illyana's twin's abilities, in fact, it made more sense than her sister being completely human. However, he was surprised to hear that she was able to hide it for so long without her parents having any indication. It was lucky for the girl, but in a way, also dangerous. He could see the need in Illyana's eyes, hear it in her voice. He knew that this girl would not rest until she saw her sister safe...and he would have to help her as best he could. He'd had a sister once and had been unable to protect her...maybe this was his shot at redemption for the crimes of his past.

Normally, the Irishman again would have been hesitant to give consent for a plan like this. Speaking with high-profile people, especially those in finance, with regards to something that, as grifters, these men should have no interest in...well, it wasn't exactly the safest thing they could do. However, Faolan trusted in Lucien's natural charm and his ability to calm people. If anyone could do this subtly and do it right, it was the Nephilim. So, arms still crossed, Faolan nodded to show his support of the plan.

Illyana's eyes sparkled at Lucien's suggestion. She hadn't even thought of that! She had been too worried about using her abilities to find her sister, she didn't even think of tracking a paper trail. She could have never tried something like that on her own...if Lucien could find out where they moved to based on the bank records, maybe she would see her sister sooner than she ever imagined.

But one thing was nagging at her though, as this thought struck. In her vision, the one she had first seen Lucien, Faolan, and Aurel in, her sister was not there. It wasn't something she even had to try to remember, she would have known if she had seen her sister's face there...it would have stuck out to her more than anything. So, did being with Lucien and Faolan and Aurel mean that they wouldn't find her after all?

There were too many possibilities for what this could mean for her to settle on anything now. Right now, Lucien and Faolan were her best bet at not only finding her sister, but doing it before her secret was revealed. She had to trust in them, and herself. They were all she had.

"Alright," Faolan said, drawing everyone's attention, "I guess that means we're heading to the bank." He shrugged, flashed an uncertain grin at Lucien, and moved into the driver's seat of the bus.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Geralt let his face remain stoic as the Ringleader took a seat across from him and began to speak, and he managed to maintain this expression until he was finished. The Magician stared at the glass of water before him, his hand resting on the table and his fingers pressed against the cool glass. He appeared to be thinking for a moment before responding, musing over his options, but really he was simply thinking about how refreshing a cool glass of water could be on a warm October afternoon in California.

After a moment's silence, the Magician returned his gaze to Lucien's face. "I have to admit that I am...embarrassed with regards to my actions last night." He paused a moment and cleared his throat, glancing briefly at the stain the wine had left on the wall before continuing, "Frankly, I acted like an ass." His tone lightened slightly and he shook his head, smiling wryly.

"I can assure you that nothing like that will happen again." He brought his eyes up to meet Lucien's as he said this, his expression and tone firm and completely serious. "I don't want you to take what happened last night as a reflection of you, or of my proposed worth to this establishment. I'm committed to this place, to my role here, and to you. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have bothered showing up again after last night." He stopped again and stood from his chair, leaving the glass and walking past Lucien to the window behind him.

For once, the curtains were open, letting the fresh air wafting through Geralt's trailer, clearing it of the muggy smoke and smells of tobacco and alcohol. The Magician stood before this window, looking out of it into mostly nothing with his arm resting on the sill. After a moment, as if to himself, he said, "It's good to know where one stands...isn't it?" as he stared out across the empty stretch of land before him. He found its desolate nature comforting. Once he was satisfied with the pause he'd left, he turned around to face Lucien again and leaned against the frame, putting one hand into his pocket and letting that wry smile return.

He shrugged and said, "While I appreciate your concern as my friend, this isn't something that I wish to discuss with you. I think it will be easier for both of us if we keep...personal matters to ourselves, if we're to keep our relationship professional." Geralt ended this statement matter-of-factly, his tone suggesting that there was no room for rebuttal or negotiation. "Though I am a little worse for the wear today, it will in no way effect my performance tonight. If I thought it would, I wouldn't dream of going on. In the future, if anything threatens my ability to perform, I will come to you first, patron, as your humble employé."

That word...friend...what a nasty moniker it was. Geralt had never cared for being friends or having friends. What use were they to him? Burdens, and nothing more. No, he wasn't interested in being Lucien's friend, and he thought that the man should know that, since honesty was so important to him.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Illyana nodded at Lucien's assessment. She wasn't sure if she would be able to locate anyone, but she knew that she could at least help pin-point someone if they got close enough. As far as she knew, her abilities didn't work at great distances. She had tried sensing people before, and in fact, recently. When she had been hiking across the land searching for her home, she had tried to sit down, clear her mind, and search for the vibrations and mental signature that she associated with her parents and sister. It hadn't worked, but there was no telling whether she could learn, or if there was only a certain distance it worked within.

She would have said this, but at Lucien's question, however, she gave pause.

She knew what she wanted to do, and she knew why Lucien would ask her this. They had to be surprised that she wanted to return to parents that had abandoned her, there was no denying that. She knew that none of them would ever say this, but she could just feel it by the way he asked her, by the pause he left after. It wasn't about her parents though, it was about her sister. Isabella had been asleep when Illyana had been taken by their mother, and as far as Illy knew, her twin hadn't known anything about it. She was sure her parents had come up with a plan for what to tell her, something to keep her from asking questions...How long until their parents found out that Illyana hadn't been the only one of their children to inherent a deformity? And what would they do once it did come out...?

"I have to find Isabella," she said, her voice unwavering, "I need to be with my sister. Whatever it takes, I can't let them do to her what they did to me." She paused for a moment to shake the feeling that she was about to cry again, and mastered it with a deep breath. "My sister is...special. She doesn't have anything to show it, like I do, but she has abilities like mine. She doesn't have the dreams and she doesn't see things, but she can talk inside your head without moving her mouth, and sometimes she can move objects without touching them. As far as I can tell, it's not very strong, and my parents don't even know...but if they find out..." she paused again, dropping her eyes, "I don't know what they'll do to her."

Despite the fact that she and her twin were supposed to be identical, there really were many differences between them, including intelligence. That wasn't to say that Isabella wasn't smart, it was just that Illyana had always been smarter and had always been a little more mature. Isy could be naive, and sometimes selfish and bratty...Illyana knew that she wouldn't be able to handle her parent's rejection in the same way that she had. Isy was their favorite, their normal little girl, and was always treated that way. She didn't know her parent's cruelty, their ability to not care about their child...she had never had to witness it. Illyana had to find her before they found out, she had to protect her. She was the only one in the world that knew her secret and could save her from a life of fear. At least...she had to try.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Geralt crossed the room and took a seat in the same chair that he had last night without a word. After sitting, he watched Lucien take a look around, eyes lingering on the wine stain from last night. Though he could have cut the tension in the room with a knife, The Magician sensed that Lucien's crust had softened at least somewhat. He was still...charge with negative energy, but the anger was no longer apparent on his features. He looked...stern, but not furious. This was progress in the right direction, at least, and better yet, Geralt hadn't even needed to do anything to get a head start. He hoped the weight lifting meant good things for the next several minutes.

At the Nephilim's question, Geralt chuckled and shook his head. "I feel like a baby dragon is about to hatch from my skull," he said plainly, lifting a glass on the table to his lips. He paused before drinking and held it in Lucien's direction for just a moment, "Don't worry, just water," he said, adding a wink, before he took a sip and set the glass back down.

"But I know you didn't come here to talk about my well-being. Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to the chair across from his. Hurt though he was, The Magician was no longer inebriated, and with a sharp mind he was able to keep his tone and expression entirely enigmatic, as was his expertise.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Lucien was right to guess Faolan's reaction to this idea. At it's mention, the man immediately frowned. Though he was well aware of Lucien's curiosity, the questions he had about his origins and his future and his purpose, Faolan had never trusted seers that called out to them. He found them dangerous charlatans who would only use Lucien for his abilities. It was simply too dangerous to consult one without knowing what their intentions were.

He couldn't deny, however, that this would not be something they did for Lucien's benefit, but for Illyana's. If he had met another...Lycanthrope as a boy, his life may have turned out much differently. All children needing guiding in life, and guiding from a legitimate source, from someone who could understand them on a more spiritual level, could only help. As long as Faolan was there to protect them, no harm would befall Lucien, Aurel, or Illyana. He would die before allowing that to happen. So, reluctantly, he knew he had to agree to this proposition. He gave Lucien a very small nod to show this, but kept his mouth set into a hard line.

Illyana's eyes lit up a bit at Lucien's reassurance. She had never thought she may be able to meet someone like her before...and she had so many questions. But, they would have to find that person first.

"Maybe...I can help with that too." She said, looking between the two men. There was a pause as they waited for her to continue, so she did. "I can...sense things about people. Like you, Lucien...I can tell you're different just by being close to you. You have this...calming presence. And Faolan," she glanced at the tall redhead, "I know that you're like...a shield, a protector. I can't see what you're thinking, but I know that you wouldn't let anything bad happen to Lucien, or Aurel..." Next, she looked at the teenager. "And I can sense the connection between you and Bengal and Ginger. They understand you and you understand them...but it's more than that. It's...inside you." She said, placing a closed fist against her chest to indicate her heart.

The Irishman raised his eyebrows once again at Illyana's assessment of him. Normally, he would be unnerved and even a little upset that someone would pry into his thoughts the way she had. Though she'd mentioned that she could not know exactly what he'd been thinking, the girl was not far off. He was not angry, rather, he found his cheeks growing hot at the mention of his role in Lucien and Aurel's lives, and now hers. It was the first time anyone had identified him this way out loud.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Geralt awakened much later the next morning than he normally would. A pounding headache and only a vague memory of the exact events of the night before immediately put him in a foul mood. He knew that his conversation with Lucien had gone poorly, and the wine stain on the wall and the roll of bills left out was a reminder of that. Hopefully, it was nothing that couldn't be salvaged.

He made himself a hangover cure and drank it down with some gusto. Once he felt ready, he left his trailer to use the showering facility. He didn't bother with displacement, and made sure to show himself to members of the troupe that had been walking about in the afternoon. He did not smile or wave, he barely looked at anyone, but he wanted to make sure that his presence would be noted if Lucien asked after his whereabouts. He knew that a followup to last night's...disagreement was in short order. The Big Top was tonight, and Lucien could not risk any illusions about where Geralt's loyalties lay. The Magician needed to be sure that he was prepared to do what he had to to convince Lucien of his intentions without revealing anything...sensitive. It was a thin line to walk, and Geralt, for the first time in his life, was unsure if he would manage to stay on it.

Illyana saw the man walking across the grounds, this time clothed, heading towards the showers. She, too, had heard the scream echoing from his trailer. In fact, she had felt it. Waves of despair and fury had wafted from the place like a foul wind. Though she did not know of the exact events that had lead to that moment, she was confident that she had guessed the reason. Geralt had missed a show, and she had not seen Lucien that angry in...well, she couldn't even remember if she ever had. In fact, she had been surprised to see The Magician on the grounds this morning and expected that he would have left after being dismissed, taken his things in the night and simply...disappeared. It seemed that he was content to stay, get his affairs in order, and maybe perform one last time under the Big Top before he left them.

At the thought of his absence, the girl couldn't help but smile. A small bit of guilt prickled at the back of her brain for this reaction, as she knew that the feelings from Geralt's outburst were complex and deep, and that he must have had his own reasons for his behavior. Still, she knew deep down that Lucien was better off without the man sniffing around him for scraps any longer. They had a family here, and she would not see it torn apart by a dark intruder with hidden motives and illicit intentions. It would be best for all of them if he left as soon as possible.

She did not approach the man, she didn't even acknowledge him. It was none of her business, so she focused on getting everything ready for that night's line up.

Cora had not heard the scream, but she could tell that something was off. She hadn't spoken with or seen Lucien last night, but she knew that he was looking for Geralt and that he was unhappy. She hoped that everything had been resolved, but the mood around camp told her differently. She decided to stay out of it, it was not her place to interfere.

---------------------

After his shower and some food, that was eaten rather lack-luster, Geralt returned to his trailer and spent the rest of the day there. A couple of times throughout the day, he exited and took a seat in a chair he had set up by the door, reading the newspaper or fiddling with a deck of cards. He wanted to make sure that he was accounted for all day until the show, to illustrate that he had no intention of leaving on his own. If Lucien asked him to leave...well, that was another matter entirely, but he would not be pushed out without another conversation at the very least.

Luckily for him, his dark passenger had kept quiet all the rest of the day, waiting to see what would happen. The Magician could feel the creature inside of him, coiled like a serpent ready to strike, but he was glad for the thing's silence. His headache had never fully diminished, and it was not something he was capable of dealing with in a manner appropriate for the circumstances. Not right now, anyway.

He was inside his trailer when Lucien approached, lying in bed with his eyes closed under a damp cloth. He could hear the man's footsteps before he knocked, and prepared himself for this eventuality. Slowly, he removed the cloth, left it on the table next to the glass he'd been drinking from, and went to the door.

He opened it, squinted at Lucien out into the light, his head throbbing from the onslaught of fresh air and sun. He said nothing and simply stepped to the side to allow Lucien entry.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Illyana listened, wide eyed, to Lucien's explanation. She had never heard of anything like this before, and was shocked to find out that he had heard of others who had experienced what she had. All this time, she thought she was alone aside from her twin, and now she knew that was not the case. These three were special in their own ways, it stood to reason that there were others out there with all sorts of abilities that were...abnormal or even superhuman.

It lightened her load a little as well to hear something so reassuring. Not only did she not scare Lucien and the others, but they knew something about her abilities and could possibly help her control them. The vision that she'd had about them made much more sense now, and the realization finally settled that she was meant to meet them and be here. She knew she was meant to find her sister as well, there was only the matter of time to deal with...

"That sounds similar...yeah." She said, nodding. Her parents were religious and therefore kept her away from anything that they deemed "inappropriate" by the laws of nature and God. Many of the teachings she had received growing up about morals were based on religion as well, and she had followed these tenants her whole life. Although, despite her young age, she knew that not all of it could be trusted or true. How could it be that her parent's actions were condoned by God and her birth was not? He had made her this way, hadn't he? She had mentioned seers and prophets in the bible to her parents, but only twice. The first time, her father had simply ignored the question. When Illyana had mentioned it to her mother, the woman grew angry and told Illyana that she was not to compare herself to scripture. Her deformity was entirely different, an abomination that must be kept hidden. They never said anything about The Devil, Hell, or demons, but she knew that her mother was thinking it, and she didn't have to be a mind reader to guess at it either.

"I'd like to...to learn." In fact, the girl's favorite past time was learning and teaching herself facts about the world. "Do you...know anyone who has these 'visions'? Someone who can help me...figure out what they mean?" She said, her tone somewhat desperate. She assumed that Lucien would have mentioned if they did, but she couldn't help but ask. She looked at Faolan as she felt him shift in response to her question, but he was only shaking his head.

This was disappointing, but she hadn't expected much. Her visions and dreams were often vague or very symbolic and she had a hard time deciphering what they meant. She didn't always see people as they were, in time, or in the future or past. Sometimes when she touched objects she saw cryptic things that made no sense. Sometimes she saw horrors the likes of which the mind of a child could not bare to comprehend, and sometimes she saw flashes and images: a hairbrush, a duck in a pond, a man on a bench, a bloody knife, and a baby's bassinet. Things that seemed totally unrelated, all in a row. She could never begin to figure out what these things meant on her own, not with the books she had access to.

The Irishman had known of a seer in his town as a lad, a woman who claimed to be in touch with the "other side". Growing up, he had been told to avoid her at all costs, she was touched by Satan and therefore unsafe for him. However, she was the only person who he could think to go to after he had woken up in the midst of the massacre of his family. She had helped him understand his "curse" as she called it, helped him with learning the basics about what he was and how his life would have to be if he wished to continue living it. He owed her his life, for without her he would have had no choice but to end himself or risk hurting others.

She couldn't help now, though, and at the time Faolan had not asked about her abilities when he had the chance. First of all, she was back in Ireland, and secondly, she was almost 60 years old when he had met her for the first time in person and she must be long gone now.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

Geralt fumed silently as Lucien continued to criticize him. With his back turned, his grip on the neck of the wine bottle tightened and his teeth ground together. Pure rage was outline on his face, but he would not turn and give Lucien the satisfaction of seeing it.

He's got your goat now, Magician...The voice cackled in his ear.

The sound of his trailer door swinging shut was a relief, but his shoulders and his grip on the wine bottle did not relax just yet. The man stood there in the same position, frozen in his fury for minutes.

Responsibility? The Nephilim spoke like he knew Geralt, like he understood, like he could imagine what it was like for him to live this half-life, this cursed existence trapped in a body that did not belong to him, that he was forced to share with a creature spun from a web of pure evil. He talked like he knew of Geralt's suffering, of the things he had done, the people that he had hurt, had killed, the life that he had destroyed before it even had a chance to be...

"Rraaaagh!" An agonized scream escaped from the man's mouth as he turned and threw the wine bottle as hard as he could. The object flew across his trailer and exploded in a cloud of crimson and shattered glass. The liquid dripped down the dark wood interior and onto the dark wooden floor, turning it black. The glass sparkled in the light from the lamp, like so many stars in the night sky.

The man stared down at the mess blankly, all of the rage and frutsrtation drained from his features, and he didn't even see it. Instead, he saw faces: ones he had harmed, wronged...someone he had killed, his beloved, and a life he had destroyed before it even had a chance to be, his...

"Destiny..." A single tear loosened itself from his moistened eye and ran down his cheek, leaving a track on his skin. He didn't even feel it.

That creature does not know you, Geralt. He never will. He cannot understand your suffering, your guilt, your pain...He has never known a loss like yours, and he never will.

Geralt knew this was true. He knew that Lucien, no matter what or who he had lost, could never know what Geralt had been through. Even if he told him, he could never understand. The Magician, for all of his charms and all of his facade, knew deep down that his soul was black and shriveled like a lump of coal deep down in the deepest mine. Lucien shone like sunlight, his soul soared with angels, and Geralt...well, he had danced with the Devil for too long now to turn to the light now. This life was all he knew. He was cursed, doomed, and that was just the way it was. He had been foolish to think he could find redemption in the arms of someone touched by Grace. He was beyond saving.

He stood still for a long time, numb to everything but pain. His soul cried out inside of his body, limp and motionless, as it stared at the wine until it had dried. He didn't know how long exactly it was before he turned and collapsed onto the bed that was his but not his and drifted into a fitfull, drunken slumber.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

It struck Illyana then that, for the first time in her life, she had shown and mentioned her deformity to strangers and that they had not recoiled in fear or confusion. Lucien had seen it and never mentioned it until now, never questioned it, and neither had the others. She doubted it was from Lucien's influence. Faolan, in particular, seemed completely unaffected by her difference and she could sense absolutely no reaction from him at its mention. It was...refreshing to be among people who did not look at her like she belonged behind a glass case.

She opened her mouth, slowly, and began to stammer a nervous answer to Lucien's question, when Aurel's voice cut her off. She was glad for it though, because his words were comforting and reassuring. She even tried a little smile, though it probably looked like a frown to those who didn't know her well.

When she turned back to Lucien, there was a new confidence in her gaze and her voice, though it was still strained from all the tears she had spilled. "I don't really...ever talk about it, but..." she paused a moment, just trying to gather her thoughts. Despite their reassurance, it was still strange for her to acknowledge her third eye. Her parents never mentioned it with words, only in looks and whispered arguments. She and her sister had spoken about it when they were young, and it had never bothered her when she was with Isy. She supposed now was the time if she was going to get used to discussing it with others...

"It wasn't really a seizure...I mean, not like when someone is epileptic. Just, sometimes when I touch things or people I can...See things." She said the word "see" as it if would be spelled with a capital "S". "That's what happened in the house. I touched my sister's barrette and I saw her..."

Specifically she had seen the back of Isy's head. She was riding in a car, her parent's car, and playing with a doll. There were trees outside of the window, but Illy had been unable to discern anything else during the ride. It was not enough to go on...not yet. She would have to sit with it, see if there was anything else that might help figure out where she was or where she was going.

Faolan, who had been listening in silence from his spot by the driver's seat, added quietly, "That's why you don't like to be touched."

At this revelation, Illyana nodded. "I don't know when it will happen, how powerful it will be...it's hard for me to control." She dropped her eyes to the floor again and began twisting the handkerchief between her hands. All her life, she had worn gloves outside and avoided touching other people or objects. It was a lonely life, but it was something she had gotten used to. Eventually, she added, "It's not only from touching though. Sometimes it just...happens." She shrugged slightly at this, having no other way of explaining it. "It happens sometimes when I'm asleep too, and I think that's what the dreams are." In fact, she knew that's what the dreams were, there was no other explanation.

Cirque D'étoiles (1x1, FxM, MxM, FxF)

At Lucien's response, the Magician no longer made any effort to hide his displeasure. A mean scowl to match the Nephilim's spread across his lips, an expression he was unused to wearing in the presence of others. His already dark eyes deepened in shadow as his brow furrowed. For a moment, he merely stared at the Ringleader as he expressed his disappointment and outrage at Geralt's actions. The bottle of wine lowered slowly until it was at the man's side. He did not interrupt, did not make a sound, until Lucien had finished speaking.

Geralt hardened himself to the words that were being flung at him like daggers. He had heard worse, much worse, with regards to his character over the years. He was not hurt by Lucien's anger, his confusion, his sense of betrayal...not yet anyway. Drink had numbed him to any feelings of guilt or remorse. Now, for the first time since laying eyes on the man, all Geralt wanted was for the Ringleader to leave his sight.

A heavy silence hung between the two men once Lucien had completed his speech. Slowly, Geralt turned and lowered the wine bottle onto the table, slid his long fingers from its neck, and crossed the room to the trunk containing his old props. Without a word, he passed Lucien and crouched before the trunk, moved some things aside and withdrew from it a roll of bills. He appeared to count it for a moment, sizing the weight and checking the denominations. Once he was done, he stood again and extended the bills toward Lucien.

"Clearly, this has upset you, caused you some degree of discomfort and..." he struggled with the word for a moment before coming up with it, "Annoyance. It was never my intention to cause these feelings in you, and I hope not to do so again." Contrary to the mysteriously accented, deep and complex voice The Magician used even in personal interactions, his tone had flattened to a point that no emotion remained. "This should cover your losses for the night, and if not, let me know. I would be happy to deduct the remainder from my next cut." He stopped talking, but Lucien did not appear to be reaching for the roll of bills in the man's hand. Geralt sighed heavily, walked to the liquor cabinet and set the bills there. "Now, if you'll excuse me, it's been a long night and frankly, I do not wish to discuss this any further." He then made his way back to the table, to the wine bottle and took another heavy swig from its neck.

His business, his misery, his guilt and disappointment, his life...it was none of Lucien's concern. Geralt had tried many times now to allow Lucien to get closer to him and he was refused at every turn. As far as he was concerned, the Ringleader could either put up with him or fire him, and his life would not change. He was stuck, simply, until someone freed him. There was no use in struggling, in pushing the boulder up the hill any longer, he could accept his losses and move on or wallow in them. For now, wallowing suited him, so those were his plans for the evening regardless of what Lucien wanted.