Phillis Circus: Outside
“Godsdamnit Max you idiot, take me back and put me down!”
“Gosh, Sammie, I’m sorry… I thought you were my honey boo…”
“You do this all the time! We look nothing like each other, you idiot!”
“Huh? What? You don’t?”
“No, we don’t! Eyebrows, you moron! Our eyebrows are totally different!!”
“…”
“And our noses are completely different, too! Tammie’s is fatter!”
“I’m… er… not so sure about that…”
“Whatever, just shut up and put me back down again otherwise that guy will get away!!”
With a wilting sigh, the skybound Max, carrying his companion Sammie, turned and gently lowered themselves down to the ground, stopping off precisely where Max had accosted Sammie in her and Cammie’s battle against Lute. The virtuoso, along with Sammie’s brother, were in the midst of helping civilians evacuate the destroyed rubble of tents that Abram’s animals had helped to destroy in their rampage against Lucien’s summon, before they suddenly stopped and turned upon noticing their presence.
Lute’s face paled immediately, the youth’s skin turning as pale as his fair. The animals’ battle against Lucien’s summon was thankfully over, their destruction abated almost as soon as it had begun, with the nearest civilians closest to them now having all fled to safer parts…
…but not Lute was completely surrounded. With Sammie and Max approaching from one side, and the trio of circus animals on the other side taking notice of him, and Cammie right beside him… even with the latter’s help, he couldn’t deny the simple fact that…
…he was so, so screwed.
Phillis Circus: Big Top: Audience Seating
His mind and body hurt like nothing he had ever felt before.
Even though Lucien hadn’t been physically fighting himself, he still felt the mental whiplash of his bear’s struggle against those three circus animals enough to feel the effects on himself. He was almost completely exhausted, and his mind stung with the worst headache he had ever felt. More potent, even, then the time he had spent drinking at one of Tagress’ many bars, and a night he wished he could have forgotten.
He had lost control of not only the animal’s senses, but his own – the summon becoming embroiled in its own maddening beastial rage, resulting in a bloody, primal fight. One that caused a lot of devastation and destruction among the tents outside, and the frightening of a lot of poor people. Now that he was back to his senses, Lucien could only grimace in both pain and guilt at what had happened… at what he had allowed to happen. Anybody who might have gotten hurt outside was because of him. It’d be on his conscience. What could he do…?
“Easy, easy,” Lucien raised his hands in the air in front of him, partly as a mock surrender and partly to help protect his face in case Tammie ending up accidentally spilling that steaming coffee. “I give up,” Lucien sighed. “I surrender, I swear.”
The summoner didn’t really want to surrender, but there wasn’t exactly much he could do at the moment. Not with the way he was feeling. He didn’t know if he could even stand up, let alone run away or fight.
He managed to turn though, shifting his body to be able to look at what else was actually happening inside the Big Top.
And both his eyes and mouth widened in surprise, confusion and horror at what he was witnessing…
Estelle, fighting Crispin.
What… what was going on?
What the heck’s going on?!
Estelle gasped and grunted in pain as she felt her body involuntarily move against her wishes. She was locked in horror at what was happening, the sheer madness of her body moving against her thoughts and wishes, to jump at and try to punch Crispin despite desiring no such thing. The particular way in which she clenched her fists and cracked her knuckles, the deliberate manner in which she rose to her feet again and turned threateningly back towards Crispin. She was doing none of this, and yet for some reason… her body was!
What the heck was going on?!
“You!” Estelle shouted at Vance, the regal aristocratic ringmaster turning his attention away from Abram to cast a cursory glance towards the redhaired girl. “What the hell are you doing to me?!”
Vance tilted his head slightly, looking down his nose towards Estelle, and then simply looked away without answering, back towards Abram. The big and powerful, muscular man coughed, the adrenaline that had been surging throughout his body beginning to calm down.
“Abram is… not sure. These and… a few more, Abram thinks.” The Beast Tamer replied, scratching the back of his neck as he did. “Max sent two of them flying into the air,” Vance’s sight was directed to the small hole in the ceiling of the tent. “And Sammie and Cammie went after another man.”
Vance stared towards Abram, considering the answer, and then nodded, his expression betraying no particular emotion towards the question. Abram sighed again, and then turned back towards Crispin. Despite the burning that the fire brawler had done to Abram’s hand, he didn’t seem to either notice it or bear any ill will or sense of desired revenge for what Crispin had done. If anything, Abram seemed… sullen. As if simply upset by everything that had happened.
“Little man, Abram thinks it best if you simply give up now,” The Beast Tamer spoke in an even voice. “Little man is badly outnumbered, and the rest of little man’s friends all be… all be…”
“Incapacitated,” Vance helped.
“Da.” Abram nodded. He folded his mighty arms over his broad chest. “More fighting simply mean more hurting… for you. Why not just stop and talk this over, da?”
On the far side of the Big Top’s performance ring, opposite to the scene developing between Vance, Abram, Estelle and Crispin, the circus’ Ringmaster and owner, Guinevere Phillis, had stepped onto the scene and in one fluid motion, calmed both the out of control panda Petra, and subdued the illusionist Aria before she could even blink. Pinned to the ground by the unimaginable weight of one of Guinevere’s dolls, she could only look up in disbelief and confusion at what was going on. How could this…?
And then horror, as she saw the feet that belonged to her adversary Isabella stalk towards her.
"Isabella, darling, are you all right? Are you hurt?"
“Nothing other then my pride, Guin,” Isabella replied, as she stood next to her cherished friend, looking down at Aria, and the wretched mess that looked back up. Isabella closed her eyes, dispelling her anger and irritation that had grown throughout their battle, and brought herself back to the calming, inner piece she treasured so much. “I am sorry, Guin,” Isabella spoke up. Guinevere turned back towards her, surprise creasing her delicate features.
“Sorry, Isabella? Whatever for?”
“This. All of it.” Isabella’s outstretched hands emphasised the scene around them, and the various pieces of damage that littered about it – from the overturned and destroyed seats, to the charred remains of Crispin’s fire damage, the hole in the tent ceiling, severed tightrope and the other pieces of evidence from the fight that had transpired. “If I had been better… quicker and more decisive to act, this wouldn’t have gotten as out of hand as it did. I’m sorry.”
“Well now, there’s no need for you to be sorry, my dear,” Guinevere lifted one of her gloved hands to Isabella’s cheeks, wiping away the drop of tear that was beginning to trickle down. “This wasn’t your fault, now was it? All of this, I’m sure, will be over very very soon…”
Phillis Circus: Outside
“What the shit, Sy, where the fuck did we put it?”
Outside the perimeter of the circus, beyond the metal fencing that served as the circus’ bounds, Moira and Syed had hurried as quickly as they could to the point where they had stashed their weapons. They were fortuitous enough in that during their trek to this spot they hadn’t encountered any of the other outside battles that had been occurring – as they went around the Big Top’s massive tent they went around the side opposite to where Lute’s battles had been occurring, and on the other side they managed to completely avoiding nothing the commotion that Trixie and Xandra’s ending fight had had with Poppy and the two stilt siblings thanks to the massive crowd of people between them. Syed had wanted to check out what all the smoke was about, but Moira had been adamant in retrieving hers and everyone else’s stuff. If they were going to properly fight, then they needed them.
“It’s here,” Syed said, pointing out the spot where they and Aria had hidden their equipment. As he crouched down to remove the artefacts uncovering the spot, Syed’s features contorted in confusion upon noticing the majority of it completely missing. Everything other then…
“Ere we go. About fucking time.” Moira bent down and lifted the great sword up, dusting it down and stabbing it into the ground as she turned to begin fitting her armour back on. “Right. Now we can show those idiots who the hell they’re messing wit-”
Moira’s speech was interrupted by a great big buffeting gale sweeping about them. The sensation was all too familiar to that of the man they had just been fighting against; the human cannonball Max, who moved and attacked at such shockwave creating speeds that he resembled a human rocket. Moira spun on the spot, gritting her teeth and preparing herself for the inevitable impact…
…only for herself and Syed to be surprised at what they saw appear before them. Amidst the dying down winds, a man gently lifted a woman whom he had been carrying in his arms down to the ground.
“Never again…” The blonde woman spoke, clutching her forehead with one hand and her stomach with the other. “Even if that was quicker then walking, never again. I think I’m going to be sick…”
“Amy!” Syed shouted. “And Marcus!”
“Oh!” Marcus’ attention was jostled by the sound of his companions. “Syed and Moira. Hello… fancy meeting you two here… outside of the circus?” Marcus looked confused, but smiled his usual gentile smile at seeing his friends again. “Thank the gods we’ve found you. What’s going on?”
“Payback,” Moira grinned, strapping her greatsword around her back, and taking her first step back towards the circus. “A whole shitload of payback!”
No pressure <3