The booth was a classic—mostly. It looked like a small tent draped in exotic scarves with little fake-gold edging and symbols that were usually meaningless but looked appropriately mystical. A few were not nearly so benign. The most important of the curses woven on the tent caused those who stole from it to die over the course of eight days, after which their soul would be trapped in one of the tiny mirrors that made up one of her gowns. From there, they could be questioned about the location of stolen items and then “encouraged” to make lovely music for her to sleep to. Those curses were spread liberally through the grounds.

Those who had impure thoughts in her presence—at least while she was working in her tent—would suffer the immediate loss of reproductive capability. The pain was delayed and linked to a hex that caused ill luck. It would cause some horrific accident that would see to an injury there.

Married customers who came in to buy products for someone other than a spouse got charms that caused compulsive honesty. And if the trinket were present while the spouse took a well-provoked revenge . . . souls for her mirrors.

Nearly every charm and bangle she sold caused some form of misfortune to rain down on the owner. Or sometimes on people around the owner. Just to keep things interesting. And the objects could act as a focus for her to scry. But that was more just to amuse herself by seeing how things went.

Of course, the booth had a few modifications to it. Despite her best efforts, it still walked on a pair of chicken legs when it needed to be moved. She had tried to at least get it to four; chicken legs were just not well suited for house-mobility. She had been much, much younger when she made it and she had not taken care to make it easy to be rid of. Besides, it had jumped on people stupid enough to attack her—that was always good for a laugh.

The mirrors, each no larger than a thumbnail, woven into her cowl reflected the ethereal light in her booth as a young woman came in. Baba smiled at her, revealing perfectly white teeth in a razor grin. One alabaster hand rose and motioned the female closer. “Come in, my dear,” the woman was instantly more nervous and more at ease—Baba sounded like a gypsy. It was familiar, yes, but legends said crossing one was easy and dangerous. “Please, sit.”

Fearing that to leave now would be rude, the woman sat, leg shaking nervously as she bit a thumbnail. The ancient beauty took in the sheen of the woman’s hair, brown, and the glimmer of tears in her blue-gray eyes. Unusual, but that just made things more interesting for her. Employing no magic but far more experience with young women seeking help than she’d like, she offered, “man trouble?”

The woman nodded, having trouble talking to a woman whose eyes she couldn’t see. There was warmth in the voice, but the edge there was icy and there were no facial cues at all.

“True love doesn’t pay attention to you?” The quick, razor smile appeared and vanished. “An old story.” Her hand passed over the cloth-covered table, leaving behind a single bronze charm the size of a human thumb and set with a reddish stone. “Love charms are popular,” Baba added kindly. “Wear this and when you confess, he’ll love you.”

She accepted the handful of coins from the woman. The odds were good that the young lady had been rendered sterile by her time in Baba’s tent. Not that it would matter, considering the spellwork laced into that charm. She did so love passing along bad luck saved up from others.

Baba cocked her head to the side and blinked when she felt a change in the fabric of the Carnival grounds. No one saw her blink in her empty booth, but she did. It was not usual for there to be ghosts on the grounds. Not at all. People who died tended to not have a soul to become a ghost. So what was a ghost doing here? She made a mental note to ask Mortimer to look into possible deaths on the grounds. Which sounded rather silly when she thought about it. Yes, she would wait until she had a clearer idea of what happened before telling him.

She stroked the mirrors and listened to the shrieks of the stored souls. As much as she enjoyed the taste of a soul, she enjoyed the tortured music more. And besides, they were useful. Sometimes. Well, they amused her anyway. Baba touched one of the flickering glass shards and extracted a long, winding thread of pale gray smoke. It trailed behind her finger to her lips, where she inhaled it.

The soul was a blacksmith who’d been a kind, loving man who had a fondness for the occasional bet. He’d made a wager in her tent and lost. But it was the screams of his twin daughters from the shards beside him that had flavored him properly. It had been so much fun when he’d found himself unable to avoid bashing their skulls in as they asked him why and he couldn’t answer. She had managed to pull that memory from him back when he’d first arrived and savored it still.

There was the tang of the forge and a sort of sooty taste under the sweetness of a loving father. The need for risk added a hard sensation to an incorporeal experience. Then the final moments with their sour-bitter taste of terror and horror and finally months of listening to his daughters’ torment had added a feeling of misery that tasted so bitter it reminded her of raw chocolate.

She was just finishing her meal when she felt the spirit vanish from the grounds and a . . . something . . . replace it. That was definitely odd. She tugged a random soul from her hood and slipped it into a small figurine of a bird. “Find Mortimer. Tell him something is wrong on the grounds. We had a ghost and now we don’t.” The wooden figure sped off, granted the moderate intelligence needed for its task by the soul trapped inside.

Esme wasn't sure which shocked her more : the kiss or the ring. Both were beautiful... and slightly disturbing.
"Thank you," she murmured. "It's beautiful. I am grateful that you would give me such a gift, to take care of my needs. So I will not have to kill anymore?" she asked hopefully, looking into the ring. "I don't like killing people," she explained, placing a hand over her heart. "It hurts."
She heard screams of terror and agony coming from somewhere. She winced and covered her ears. But she supposed she'd have to get used to it.

"What do I do now brother?" she asked. "I suppose I should be in the carnival, but I don't know what to do. I would rather not kill anyone, at least no one innocent. Can't we let the innocent ones go free? The truly innocent I mean?"
She had no problem with the guilty dying. Those who deserved to be punished needed to be punished. But it hurt when she thought of innocent people suffering and dying.

"Can I... May I walk outside?" she asked, holding his hand. "This place is going to be my home. I want to know who, and what, I share it with. Please?" she asked gently.

Now that she had her brother she never wanted to upset him, disappoint him or make him angry in any way. She would do just about anything to make him happy and win his continued approval.

Mortimer was watching the people entering and leaving the carnival, but Shadow paid even closer attention. The moment he felt a miserable and evil soul leave the carnival, that one person was absorbed by the shadows and his or her soul belonged to Mortimer's ring. "You...y-you know Shadow...Why should we let the scum of the w-world go back again to c-commit c-c-crimes? We shall exterminate them once they step on our nightmare g-grounds..." Mortimer told Shadow who just nodded. Before the feathered death had the chance to answer, a small, wooden figurine of a bird arrived and told him something about a soul in the Carnival. To say the least, Mortimer was the guardian of souls in the Carnival. Within seconds, Mortimer disappeared in a shadow and reappeared in front of Baba's booth. Without hesitating, he entered the infinitely precious fortune-teller's booth and looked down at her. "Your small spawn of magic has informed us that you have something to tell us about a certain issue with a soul. May you want to inform us what that issue is about?" Shadow asked her, Mortimer just looked at her and breathed. It was amazing that he was so tall his top hat was touching the ceiling.

Hag looked at how happy his sister was, and he didn't regret kissing her lips. Even though he knew incest was prohibited, everything they did in the Carnival was prohibited in some way, so the romance and intense love he felt for her sister wasn't something to worry about. Hell, he was deeply in love with her. "That's right, my love, my dear sister. You won't have to commit homicide ever again. Whenever a soul is killed or a soul is absorbed by the carnival, it will be stored in the ring and it will constantly feed you and prevent you from feeling hungry. If you want food....you can still eat something," Hag added with a laugh at the end, even though he really meant it. Hag then took her hand and rubbed the top of it with his thumb, the smooth gloves he was wearing brushed against her skins. "Souls...humans....they are tainted. And you know that, my dear beauty. They are tainted in the most horrible way...maybe they exit the carnival being the Dalai Lama...but when they return to their lives, they will be the same insensitives assholes they were. That's why everyone who leaves the Carnival...stays forever, in some way!" he laughed. Hag held her hand tightly and kissed her lips once again. "Yes, let's wak outside, if you feel like meeting the staff...you can. Some of them are working, and we are all one big family...just...stay away from Vol. I don't quite like him...He's a ladiesman, and I'm affraid he might hurt the one person I love the most."

Baba nodded slowly, trying to decide how to explain what it was she'd felt. "I suppose that the best way to put it was that someone . . . died." She paused. "I realize that sounds normal, but this one didn't stay dead. Or didn't get absorbed or devoured, really." One hand drummed fingers on her table as she glanced at the crystal ball that was just a prop. "There was a ghost on the grounds. We don't get ghosts." There was a brief, cold laugh. "Which means someone was simply murdered on the grounds. Or maybe had some horrible accident without my aid." She waved it aside. "And then the ghost . . . disappeared. Or didn't. That's bothering me most of all. The ghost isn't quite gone. I can feel the presence on the grounds, but no longer quite a ghost. Dead and not dead." Her lips twisted into a frown. "All in all, I thought it best to tell you."

There was a sudden glow under her hood as her eyes lit up. Two of the mirrors woven into her cowl flashed for a moment as a young lover and her companion found out that it was possible to disappear into the forest and never leave it. Ravines were wonderful things. "Regardless, I leave it in your hands, Mortimer. Shadow." She gave the crow-beast an almost familiar smile. He remixed her of companions from long ago.

Mortimer heard what the fortune-teller had to say. It was actually interesting. It was a carnival of souls, and every one who was killed or died within the grounds had its soul absorbed. But this was a peculiar case, as someone had been killed and the soul hadn't been absorbed. It hadn't fed anyone. It was left wandering with pain and sorrow on the carnival. "Interestin, Baba. The only thing I can do would be to talk to this...wandering soul and ask the reason why he's here. Then maybe...I can end its suffering by absorbing it, but before that...why don't you try...by summoning it here? We both have incredible knowledge of the afterlife, as you may know...so we can get our hands on this...problem," Shadow spoke, small smile spread on his face as Baba appreciated him. Shadow had always liked Baba, but his true companion would always be his master Mortimer.

Baba paused and frowned. "I . . . can't. Not now, anyway." Her scowl grew dark at having to admit it. It was almost as though the mask of her old, terrible self were partially visible in the expression's cruelty and spite. "I could when it was properly a ghost. Now it is . . . something else. A ghost of sorts, but not right." She shook her head and growled out a curse from a time long past. "I can't even be sure of exactly where it is now. It's muted. Not quite alive, but alive enough to be just another soul. It bothers me," she admitted. "Souls aren't supposed to not remain properly dead." She laughed. "Or rather, it bothers me because I do not know if it is a sign of other problems or just an incident in Hag's cavalcade." She shook her head to clear it at gave Mortimer a sort of smile. "I will set some spirit-traps around. Anyone who becomes a ghost will have explaining to do to us. And so will whoever made the ghost, most likely."

Mortimer thought about it for a while, trying to tie loose ends until he finally came with an idea about what was happening at all. "Baba...I think that what you feel right now is the ghostly prescence of Hag's sister. He killed her for some reason I do not know. I haven't talked to him since he did such cruelty to the one person who gave mind and soul to be reunited with her brother. Maybe...she was turned into a ghost the moment he killed him, so maybe that's what you are feeling," Shadow told her, then waited for an answer. Mortimer was pretty sure it was that, since nothing had happened until Hag killed her.

Baba's face went blank for a moment, then she threw her head back and laughed. The sound was warming—but there was a barbed tone to it, biting and pitiless. "Hag," she managed after a moment. "Hag killed his sister?" She was calming down, but still giggling a little. "Such wonderfully pointless sadism." She had a real smile on her face now. "Though I wonder what our esteemed Ringleader did to alter her state. Since you know naught of if and I did nothing, the only one left with the skill to toy with ghosts would be her killer." She giggled again at the word. "I suppose I should have known he had a sister. They always do. Though usually they didn't go mad until after they met me." She was still giggling. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Mortimer. Shadow. I decided not to keep odd things to myself." She cocked her head. "Can I offer either of you a nicely aged soul? I have a pair of twin girls murdered by their father whom I don't need anymore. They already flavored him nicely."

Mortimer nodded and Shadow cawed in disgust. This time it was Shadow himself talking. "Yes! Hag the monster killed his own sister! Not even me could think of killing the one relative that has been searching me high and low, everywhere possible! But then again...it is Hag! He had lost every little pinch of humanity, and I wasn't surprised when he committed such an unholy act towards his sister. I still wonder though if he had helped her...or not? We took her to Hag after she killed a man unintentiously, and we know nothing from them since then." Shadow's words were wise, even though they sounded a lot different than the usual voice he used to speak what Mortimer said. Then, the tall and shadowy man thought about it for a minute. He hadn't eaten any souls in a long, long time. He had used his ring since he managed to craft it. But again, he was never addicted to souls, so he would just try a pair once again...One for him, one for his beloved pet. "I'd certainly like that, Ms. Baba."

He kissed her again and Esme wasn't sure how she felt about that. On the one hand it felt wrong, but on the other he was her brother. Perhaps that was just his way of expressing affection. She wasn't going to say anything to him though. She didn't want to upset him.

Outside there were still people milling around. Some were watching the show, others were enjoying the different booths and activities.
Esme heard the laugh of the crazy clown girl she had seen before and tightened her hold on Hag's hand. The clown unnerved her. But then again clowns always had unnerved her.

He had said to stay away from Vol. Esme wondered briefly who Vol was before another worry came up in her mind. "Hag?" she asked. "What if they don't accept me? The others I mean. Will they mind that I am your sister and a ghost?"

People were already watching them, intrigued by both the man in the mask and the girl at his side. All her life she had always stayed away from people, away from their judging and condemning eyes, away from all the name-calling and bullying for being different. Now, having people's attention on her made her uncomfortable.

Hag was a bit sad she didn't like they way he kissed her, so he decided to stop it. He could clearly see how afraid she was of others. It seeemed like she had never liked society at all, and this new freaks he had weren't exactly slices of pie. They were all bitter or gentle, in their own way. "They will accept you. I'll make sure they accept you. Or else...I'll have Mortimer teach them some manners." He had always used Mortimer as a subject of fear towards his workers, as they all knew what he was capable of. Hag gave back dirty looks to the people who stared at them, making them mind their own business. "In exactly one day we'll be leaving this shithole and heading to the next destination: Some rural town in the United Kingdom, near London. Oh...and by the way...I kissed you like that...because...I really love you and I think you are really gorgeous. Even if we met hours ago, I've been aching to find the other piece of my heart since I was a kid. And here you are, the woman I love the most. Just...do you...feel the same?" he asked, his hand now intertwining his fingers with hers and waiting for an answer. He wanted to kiss her so badly.

Mina awoke hours later, curled up into fetus position around her blanket. Her head was hurting from losing control when so many souls offered themselves to her and she could hear agonizing screams in her head with every movement she made. She glanced at her tail, seeing the dried blood on it and sighed a bit. After muttering a little prayer for the ones she killed, though she couldn't count how many souls she had taken, she got on her feet and walked over to her closet. Taking out a short dress, black stockings and a black and white hooded vest reaching till her ankles, she started to get dressed. After combing her hair and freshening up she pulled a set of black boots on her feet and walked out of her trailer. She had cleaned off her tail, but she could almost feel the remains of the blood resting on it. Heading over to her main field for target practice, she pulled some bone knives out of her skin and made them float around her on her way.

Baba smiled and held up two fingers. Delicately, she touched a pair of mirrors on her hood and pulled away twin gray-green smoke trails. That razor grin was on her face again as she twitched her fingers, causing the smoke to pool in her hand in two balls which she held out to Mortimer and Shadow. "I hope you enjoy them. I admit, they are rather flavored with despair, but I enjoy it. And well aged, too. I've been considering seeing if Vol is interested in trading something or other with me. I think he might enjoy some of my more carefully prepared vintages."

The souls floated up from her hand and closer to her guests. As they did, there was a muffled scream from the distance and one of her mirrors lit up. She chuckled. "Someone just tried to break into the ticket booth, I think. Or at least was planning to. I didn't have any other traps set to go off so quickly. Well, maybe Hag's office—but I'd probably just let them get in so he could deal with them himself. The lad is rather inventive."

Esme was completely stunned at his words. He had gone from being cruel and dismissing her to loving her. She had thought it was just the love of a brother and sister, but it seemed to be more now. How was she supposed to answer him? She didn't want to upset him, but she also wasn't sure how she felt. She loved him yes, but she wasn't sure if she loved him the way he seemed to love her.
But one thing was certain.
"I want your love and approval," Esme confessed, hugging him and laying her head on his shoulder. "I'll do whatever you wish of me my brother."
And really that was all that mattered, wasn't it? If he was happy, then she was happy.
Plus he was the first man to ever say she was beautiful, to ever kiss her and hold her, to express any interest in her as a woman. Perhaps this was meant to be.

She smiled. "I hope everyone else likes me. I wouldn't want to cause problems between you and your family. I can't wait to meet-" she was cut off by a scream of agony. She winced, closing her eyes tightly until the scream faded. She had to get used to hearing things like that from now on. As long as she wasn't the one harming them, why should she care?
"What will be my role in the carnival?" she asked. "I want to be useful and make you proud Hag."

(co-post with Xunzar & myself)

Vol’s imagination was working overtime at the moment. He was mentally crafting a special show, something that would combine both his talents and the talents of the two clowns, particularly Kodama. He didn't want to disturb their work however, they looked to be having fun. He would see later if they were interested at all in his idea.

He tipped his hat to them and winked at Chance before drifting back into the crowd. He was in a good mood. Today was a good day, he hadn’t thought it would be, but the bitter-sweetness of the whore’s soul had changed his outlook. It was, well, like fine dark chocolate; euphoric and addictive.- Perhaps something equally as delightful would come his way.

Whistling a tune he twirled his cane as he walked. It was easy to spot the figure of Mortimer leaving Baba’s booth. The man stood a good three heads taller than most of the carnival goers.

He frowned wondering just what Hags watchdog had been doing there. He wasn’t friends with Baba, he wasn’t friends with anyone. She could, however, be very very interesting. So, still whistling his merry tune, he made his way over to find out what he could.

“Afternoon Baba” he said slipping into her tent. His voice was cheerful and charming and still somehow uniquely Vol. “A delightful one it is too considering we are in a piss-hole of a town in the middle of butt fucking nowhere.”

If she were less beautiful, Baba's response would have been called a snort. As it was, she responded to Vol's language with a sound of abrupt amusement with hints of disdain. She'd just seen Mortimer leave and now Vol showed up. Of the two, Vol annoyed her more. The man was petty and sadistic, with a degree of perversion she had rarely encountered despite her significant age. On the other hand, Vol was charming as much as he was slimy and certainly more personable than Mortimer and Shadow much of the time. Besides, he might have something interesting in mind.

"It is indeed afternoon, young Vol," replied the fortune teller. "I do not know if I would go as far as saying it is actually delightful, though. I, personally, am quite displeased to have returned to the lands of my youth." She didn't add that they were the lands of her middle and old age for the most part as well. "Cold and dull. I might not be as crude in my phrasing, but you have described this town perfectly."

There was a flare of light as one of the empty mirrors on her cowl filled. "Ah there we are. The woman I sold the fertility charm to in that last town finally got around to killing herself. In wonder what misfortune could have possibly befallen her, that she would take her own life." Her smile was cold and cruel. "How tragic."

“Perhaps I should have said delightful for me. I gave one of your “thin and worn” women a try. Her 6 year old son strangled her—it was as enjoyable as fucking her would have been. In fact probably more so as I didn’t have to smell her this way.”

“Her soul, in the moment she died” he closed his eyes savoring it and searching for words. “Remember when we were in that small village somewhere in Arabia, the place with sand in everything, even our butt cracks? It reminded me of the coffee we had there. Dark, bitter, and addicting.”

His smile was almost genuine as he reflected on bittersweet coffee and bittersweet souls. He inhaled deeply and looked at Baba.

“You’re the expert on flavoring souls; and I want more. They have so much more substance than just simple feeding. So much more elegant.”

He blinked and licked his lips.

“And I do love elegant.”

Baba sighed. "Vulgar as ever, Vol." Her tone was mildly annoyed, but for the most part, she couldn't be bothered to be bothered by Vol any more. The man was crass for its own sake as much as anything else and she had no interest in satisfying his desire to disgust others. Besides, he'd begun to repeat himself recently. "You let the son go? Or did you have a double meal, you greedy hedonist?"

She raised an eyebrow hidden by her garments and chuckled. "I remember the stuff. Bitter in a sort of pleasant way, yes."

"I have had some ideas recently. Beyond the mere usual stuff." She waved a dismissive hand at her mirrored garb. "I have these yes, and some of them have been flavored with quite elegant pains, but I've had something in mind that may yet make use of your more . . . carnal talents." Her smile was more shark-like than kind. "Tell me, young Vol, do you know much about the Greeks?"

Vol couldn’t be bothered by Baba anymore than she could be bothered by him. He didn’t care enough to be bothered. But he did need her help, or at least her advice.

“Why not let the son go?” he asked simply.

“He was young, had just killed his mother solely for his own gain, and now has discovered just what life can offer him. If he survives he will likely be an interesting person. Besides it was part of the deal.”

Vol honored deals. Always. He would seek ways around them, naturally, but he also upheld whatever pact he made. Even to the extent of his own slavery, something that harmed the only thing he held dear. He had the self control to do it too, despite his hunger. He’d never allowed himself so much as an impure thought about a carnival member, well maybe one or two but for Vol that might as well have been none at all.

“The Greeks? Sure. They were a fairly impressive people at one time. They lived hard, fought hard, loved hard, and died hard. Stories of their lives are told in play houses even now. I saw one in London once. Pretty wild stuff. If you translated it into common speak activists would undoubtedly shut you down.”

"Say no more. Deals are deals." She tried to avoid making any that she would have to keep, but she was a creature of not only habit but certain rules. There were ancient rules that applied to her and it meant that she wasn't allowed to lie or break deals. She could, and would, mislead someone without a moment's hesitation, letting ignorance and cupidity do the rest for her, but lies were to be avoided and deals had to be kept. "I suppose he might be interesting in a few years' time. Especially if you've gotten his head as messed up as that Moravian thinks he will be."

"Yes, the Greeks. A couple of stories have been on my mind recently. Ones that would make for some interesting flavorings for souls. But they are more complex than a simple compulsion would manage. I suppose it could be done, but free will is so much better for this particular plan." She revealed two rows of perfectly formed teeth in what must be a smile, since her lips moved properly. "Medea, Tantalus, Oedipus." She smiled genuinely for a moment. "Such a nice lass, that one was. Actually, she was always a nasty, nasty wench. And then Jason went and got her mad. Need I explain, or can you see my meanings already, young Vol?"

Vol stroked a thumb across his lips as he contemplated the implications. They almost disturbed him. Baba was far more experienced than he, however. Sometimes he wondered just how much more experienced. There were a few things those folk had in common, and their storie were...dark and tragic. He had a glimmering of an idea but he had no idea how they would pull the whole thing off.

“Free will is my specialty” he said quietly. “I derive no pleasure from brute force. Charm and manipulations are so much more fun. I can manage it. I have a request however, a simple one. Let them be, if not beautiful, at least attractive.”

He gave a casual glance around the fairground then turned, frowning, back to Baba.

“Which does not seem to be readily available at the moment. Your Eyes are much better than mine. Perhaps you found someone who fits?”

"To tell the truth, young Vol," she murmured, "I do not. Though that should not be difficult. No doubt there must be some happy couple wandering the grounds with a lovely young one." She smiled. "There were a couple of handsome young men, but I did not see their females, so I cannot vouch for them. That said, you do have the eye for such matters." She shrugged; she had not been a carnal person before she'd made her wish and had little chance to be afterwards. "And since you must do the . . . well, I would call it work, but you so enjoy such work, I thought you might prefer to pick your own subjects. Victim just seems too cruel." She laughed outright at that.

"I was thinking a mix of Medea and Tantalus for our first act. We can save the fun of Oedipus for another time. Besides, it should be easy enough if that Freiberg lad is right, anyway." Her fingers stroked a magic sign on her cloth-covered table. "But for this we need a cook pot as well. Or maybe a place to roast something the size of a pig. And we need a happy, beautiful family. If this works near as well as I expect, we may want to do it again and age them. Let them wallow in their misery until the soul is steeped in it."

"I admit that it is far from bittersweet. But it is definitely a strong, biting flavor. If you've had chocolate, this is the closest I've found souls to reach." Her hands traced a symbol on the cloth. "I think I can come up with something bittersweet as well. But that has not been my pet project recently."

“So I’ll take the handsome man and not worry about what his woman looks like. I always liked heterosexual men anyway. They really try hard to resist and makes surrender that much sweeter.”

“I’ll let you handle the other things needed. I haven’t the faintest idea where to procure a cauldron.”

Vol pushed off from the wall where he had been leaning. He straightened and bowed to Baba.

“It has been educational Lady Baba” he said with a slim smile. “I am forced to perform soon but, I think I shall try to find a nice loving family first and instill them in the audience. Their presence will inspire my performance.”

“I would say I’d send a creature to let you know when I have found someone, but something tells me you’ll know anyway.”

Mortimer witnessed how the fortune-teller manipulated the souls with such a delicate touch. Just as he commanded the shadows and absorbed souls, Baba had quite a talent when it came to taming the innermost of the people that had been slaughtered. Without hesitating, one soul entered Mortimer mouth, making his eyes red for an instant, and another one entered Shadow, also making its eyes shine in a garnet shade. "Baba, you have been of a lot of help to us. I'll see if I can get Hag to give you...something like a raise." Not only was he sure Hag himself had traps, but he had watched an intruder trying to enter his office. Hag always had jack-in-the-box-like traps, and they all spit poisonous darts that were extremely deadly. The poison itself was harmless, but it made the nerves of the prey to start aching in a desperating way, as well as making the brain slowly die.

Mortimer was about to leave when he saw Vol entering the booth. God, did Mortimer hate that guy. The fact that he was good in his job made no difference, as both him and Hag hated him equally. In an instant, the tall man disappeared from the booth in a shadow.

Hag just sighed at her words. If he wanted, he could make her his slave and torture her, but he wanted something mutual. "Ye' know...I don't want to command you. I don't want to order. I...really like you...and I want our love to work. I want you to love me...If you don't, then it's fine. We can be sibblings either way." Hag's tone changed towards the end of the sentence. He really wanted them to be more than sibblings, but it was up to her. The scream of agony he heard was music to his ears, but it seemed she didn't like it. "Your job here? Just like Mortimer is my right hand, is my bodyguard and the watchman of this establishment, you are going to be my assistant. My personal assistant and my informant. You get it? You are going to inform on everything: Wether some worker didn't do his act, someone is plotting against me...things like that, my beauty." Hag then took her hand into his again and started to walk. The change of mind he had for her sister was once in a lifetime, and he hoped it didn't happen again.

Vol wandered the carnival grounds, casual and relaxed but he was in essence hunting. He knew what sort of people Baba was looking for, though he hadn’t done anything along the lines of what was now planned. It had been so addicting however, and he wanted more.

He spotted a very fine family, young enough to be still in that state of pure adoration of one another. For most folk that vanished when the child was about ten. The happy little girl they had with them looked to be around seven. Perfect. He glanced briefly over his shoulder, but saw no indication of Baba. She had eyes and ears most places however, he had no doubt she knew which family he had selected.

Stilling his mind Vol lifted the brim of his hat to reveal his charming hazel eyes. He schooled his face into one of his trademark disarming smiles and approached the family.

“Welcome, Welcome” he said as he approached, his voice suave and debonair. “I truly hope you are enjoying yourselves.” His easy going manner and charming speech encouraged them to stay and talk awhile.

He learned they were, as he suspected, truly devoted to one another and husband and wife very much in love. That would make this harder, but so much more worthwhile. Even despite their claims of devotion to one another he caught the woman making eyes at him. It wasn’t the woman he wanted though, oh she was decent enough but the young man was dashingly handsome, lean and muscled and just the thing that Vol had been looking for. He spent the last remaining hour before his show wooing his chosen family. A casual touch here, a glance there, it was no one thing but he fanned a flame of sexual tension with each action.

********

Vol’s act began in darkness, the tent silent except for a few hushed whispers and shifting of bodies. He stood, deep in the shadows, waiting for the tension in the place to get to the perfect point.

In that moment, just before the tension built to a peak, a single spotlight landed among the crowd, near the exit. A wolverine, brushed till he shone, snarling and growling appeared. Short, dense, and squat-- one might mistake the small animal as not very dangerous. A single look in their eyes would prove otherwise. The creature loped in its peculiar manner down the aisle, snarling and snapping at the crowd the whole time.

Vol remained hidden as it wandered into the center ring and stood there, snuffling and grunting. A second and third wolverine did the same, down different aisles, and still Vol remained hidden.

The final two however reacted different. Loosed into the audience they were in a frenzy of viciousness. Snarling they charged, their odd ferret-like gate propelling them quickly down the aisle towards a very beautiful young woman.

She screamed, a high pitched scream of false terror, but before the audience could react to that Vol leaped from a nearby platform upon which he had been waiting. Spotlight upon him now, he performed an acrobatic leap and landed him in front of the woman. Brandishing his cane he flourished it at the creatures in swirls and jabs.

“Begone beasts” he exclaimed, his voice deep and trained to fill the tent. The wolverines halted in mind bounce and snarling and hissing viciously began to back up. Vol drove them to the center of the ring where they joined the other three.

Then he turned and faced the audience. He smiled directly at the family, sitting in the front row eyes wide as they watched. He winked quickly at the young father and went on with his act.

“Ladies and gentlemen welcome” he said. “Please extend a warm welcome to my lovely assistant”—here he gestured to the woman who had screamed. She bowed to applause and exited. He waited until the applause had died before speaking again.

“Let the show begin!”

It was full of the usual tricks, modified to accommodate the different physique of the animals he worked with. They were dexterous and swift and obligingly hissed and snarled at all the appropriate points. They leaped through hoops, ran along fences, drug huge weights across the ground, and even played a child’s piano.

Finally he lined them up once more in the center of the arena, and allowed a hush to come once more.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, it is vital you remain quiet and still through this next part. These creatures are wild, and among the most vicious in the world. I command them, train them…but I would never tame them. Keep that in mind as I bring them around so you can get a close look at one of the rarest creatures in nature.”

He lifted his cane and the wolverines obediently began walking slowly down the isles, along the front and down isles to the exits. People stood, craned their necks, whatever they could to get a better look. One stopped directly in front of Vol’s special guests. The father looked up, his eyes meeting Vol’s once the animal had moved on. Vol gave an imperceptible nod and returned to his job.

The wolverines returned to the ring, quiet and almost innocent looking after walking so politely among the crowd.

“Now then” said Vol in the silence that followed. “They are beautiful, graceful animals but less you think they are not really as vicious as they seem I present—my final act. If you are easily shocked please turn away but rest assured that no animals will be harmed in this act.”

Vol “drove” the wolverines to the edges and another helper walked a huge tiger into the tent. The animal was huge, Vol could almost ride it like a horse had he wished. Glossy and sleek the animal moved like a true predator, watching all with a gaze that unnerved most folk.

The assistant led it to the center ring and left. Vol rapped his cane on the ground and the tiger roared, the sound filling the tent. He did it again and the creature roared louder.

“King of the jungle” said Vol in his showman’s voice “This great animal bows to no one, yields ground for no creature for he is truly the strongest in the land. Usually.”

The assistant who had led in the tiger brought in covered, wheeled cart. The few drops of blood trailing behind it let everyone know exactly what was in it.

Vol took the cart and dumped it in front of the tiger. The half a side of beef hit the ground with a huge thud and the tiger growled, a purling noise that seemed to reverberate from the air around and not just the tiger.

Vol jumped back, leaping lightly to the edge of the ring as the tiger began to rip into the meat. It had time to take only one bite before the wolverines charged. The “fight” was mostly a thing of show. Vol controlled it carefully to keep the animals from damaging one another. It was, however, very fierce and the sounds of snarls and roars filled the tent. It was over in less than 30 seconds. The tiger backed off, joining Vol who rested a hand on the beasts head. The wolverines settled down to eat, despite already having one good meal today.

A “privacy tent” dropped from the ceiling and skilled assistants snuck in and replaced the side of beef with a fairly stripped version.

The tent lifted and Vol turned and gestured.

“Piranhas have nothing on these animals” he said with a laugh. “And no animal trainer in the world, save for yours truly, dares work with such animals. You’ll never see another show like it folks! I promise you that.”

Then he, the tiger, and all five wolverines bowed to the crowd and the tent went dark. The cue the show was over. When the lights came on again Vol, the animals, and the remains of the cow were all gone. Only a little blood on the ground marked where the tableau had occurred.

***
The crowd filed out of the tent, talking amongst themselves. Vol, having taken a back exit, waited quietly in a shadow. He was planning his next move as he waited. When his guests exited the tent, near the end as they had been in the front row, he pushed himself off the wall and sauntered over, all charm and smiles. He had the rest of the day to spend with them. He intended to make the most of it, plus his work for Baba was not yet done.

“I trust you enjoyed the show?”

Chance giggled when the snake bit Kodama, drawing blood.
"Oh it's so pretty!" she said. "Drip, drop, drip, drop!" she said in her sing-song voice. "Pretty ruby red blood!"
People edged away, looking horrified and disgusting with the two clowns.
Chance noticed Vol watching and giggled at his wink. She shook her bottom at him and licked her lips. Now that was a prime cut man. She wondered absently what his blood looked like...

Her attention was brought back to the crowd when a young man caught her attention. He was eyeing her with a measure of fear and lust. Chance grinned and skipped over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist. "You got something for me big boy?" she asked.
The boy chuckled nervously. Chance laughed and let go of his neck, tightening her legs around his waist and bent over, placing her hands on the ground. "I'm very flexible," she said. "Want me to show you just how flexible I can be?" she asked suggestively.
She unwrapped her legs and flipped over and over until she reached Kodama once again, leaning against his shoulder. Pressing a kiss to the snake, she stuck out her tongue and wiggled it a few times before giggling some more.
"When do we eat Kodama? I'm getting hungry," she said, her eyes flashing orange for a moment and her tongue moving over her teeth.

---

Esme held on to her brother's hand tightly, almost afraid she was going to lose him. The crowd was starting to thin. Either they were at shows or perhaps they were leaving.

She wondered about the job he had given her. His assistant. It seemed fitting. She wanted to help. She wanted to be useful. But she couldn't help but feel that she had already disappointed him in some way. Given time maybe she would figure it out and not do it again.

She heard the noise of animals coming from one of the tents. She cocked her head, curious, but didn't stray from Hag. She wondered if she would ever feel comfortable enough to walk without Hag.

Esme wondered where Mortimer was. So far he had been the only member of the carnival other then Hag that she had met. She wasn't exactly looking forward to meeting the clowns.
"Who should I meet first?" she asked. "After we meet everyone, may I lay down?"
She was sure ghosts didn't need sleep, but laying down sounded good. Laying down on a bed somewhere quiet, where she could rest...

Co-post by me and Astarael

Baba smiled to herself when she noted that Vol had found them dinner. In the meantime, she had managed to sell a pair of charms to ward off bad luck. They would, of course, prevent bad luck, they caused very specific bad events to happen, though. In this case, the purchasers would not live out the week. Horrible wasting diseases cause problems like that. Her mouth flicked into a vicious grin.

“Come in, dear lad,” she motioned the nervous looking boy into the tent. She shuffled the cards between her hands. “You want to know your fortune, lad. Sit.” The cards flashed across open space. They were not ordinary tarot cards, she had made her own set to her own designs with their own facets and meanings.

Her hands danced, plucking five cards out of the air and setting them at points of a star before flipping the top card of the deck and placing it in the middle. “The Horseman,” she said, pointing to the card. “Soon there will be significant change.” The card had a picture of a man holding a pair of scales on a wan horse.

The card at the tip closest to the boy was flipped up. “The Scarlet Touch.” The card had a hand with a rouge-colored finger reaching out from it. “It will come from a dangerous woman.”

The next card, the one on her right, revealed a woman in a swoon on a fainting chair, her gown partially open to reveal a great deal of heaving bosom. Her face was pale, with bright red lips. Dark locks framed her face and spilled to the ground. “The Lover. You can expect great beauty in your life.” The boy was visibly eager now. Stupid, stupid boy.

The card on her left revealed an infant, alone in a basinet; at the correct angle, it looked like it was wailing. “You will be helpless in her clutches.” She pointed to the Scarlet Touch. “You see how it is inverted and angles towards this card? That means that it is the influence to which you are helpless.”

The card on his left showed a flickering flame that seemed to move as though actual fire were trapped in the card. “Swiftness in your fortunes. The lady who influences you is affected by the Lover—she will be most beautiful indeed—because of how the flame relates to them all and causes everything to happen quickly.”

The card on his right was empty. “And that is your fate.” She pointed at the blank card and then pulled back her cowl. The man glanced at her and fell forwards, his face smacking into the table as an image of him appeared on the card, struggling in the now visible bonds of a spider’s web.

She rose from her seat as the body began to disintegrate under the weight of the curses on its chair. She raised her cowl and returned her cards to their place at her hip. Once that was done, she strode from the tent, not bothering to worry about anyone trying to rob it, and began looking for Vol, taking her time to see if he found her first.Vol had spent much time wooing his family, it had been enjoyable. He was growing hungry, but he enjoyed the waiting as much as the wooing. When they left for the day, they had seen little having spent most of their time with Vol, he knew they would be back, all of them. He didn’t say anything however, simply smiled as a gracious host might, bowed deeply, and told them they would always be welcome in his home.”

He leaned against a tent pole, watching them leave with his charming smile never wavering. He noted both the husband and the wife made it a point to look over their shoulder and meet his eyes.

When they were out of sight he adjusted his hat, picked up his cane, and made his way towards Baba’s booth. He spotted her gracefully weaving through the crowd. He admired the way she moved, she seemed almost to drift. He wished he could move that way.

He quickly caught up to her and fell into step. Well tried, he simply couldn’t match her smooth gait.

“The husband will be visiting me. He is hesitant, naturally, but he is far to curious to resist. The wife will too, and she will have to bring the child because the husband will not be home to watch the girl. You might find it in your heart to help the woman see just what her faithful devoted husband is up to. I will have quite a bit to share with him; it will take some time. Plenty of opportunity for the faithful wife, never mind she was on her way to being unfaithful herself, to discover just how devoted her husband is.”Baba chuckled, the sound tinkling in the air. That the sound was so kind and feminine was vastly opposed to her nature and what they were discussing. Her visible mouth became a shining smile of indulgence. “Young Vol, you have such a knack for this kind of thing. It amuses me so much that you can just set this in motion at the drop of a hat.”

Her hand swept wide, taking in the carnival. “Such fun we can have out there. I’m so glad that to find someone able to understand what I mean. Ignorant peasants.” She scowled, perfect features turning cold and cruel for a moment.

Her smile returned, vague and benevolent. She modeled it on a picture she had seen once while in Italy. “I’m sure I can help the young woman understand how loyal her husband and father of her child is. It’s such a shame that she may have encountered a charm that unleashes her rage. It’s horrible to think how easily she might find a way of hurting him, given a bit of advice.”“My talents make my life enjoyable Lady Baba, though others may hate me for it I find I don’t much care what they think. Even the most pious people are prone to lust. It’s a simple thing to manipulate and my great pleasure to assist them in freeing their lustful side. I’m glad I could be useful. I really am a simple man after all. Till later then.”

He strolled off, whistling as he left.

****

The hesitant tap at his tent flap came as no surprise and Vol pulled it back without speaking. He waved the visitor in. Andrei, that was the husband’s name, looked a bit uncertain but entered and Vol closed the flap behind him.

“Welcome” he said smoothly. “I wasn’t sure you would come.” A lie of course, he knew his own skill. He knew Andrei would come.

“May I offer you some vodka?” he asked setting an open bottle and two shot glasses on a table in the room.

Andrei nodded and sat down, looking nervous. Two shots of vodka later and he seemed a little calmer. Vol slid the bottle away, he hated dealing with inebriated lovers.

The silence seemed to stretch on and on, Andrei had yet to say anything. Vol didn’t speak either, he knew the value of silence, but he slipped up behind the young man and casually began massaging his shoulders.

It was another several minutes before Andrei spoke.

“I don’t know why I’m here” he said confusion evident in his voice.

Vol sat down nearby and smiled a very attractive smile at the confused man.

“You were curious” he said simply. “There’s no harm in that.”

He lifted a hand and stroked the man’s cheek, causing Andrei to jump up and backward.

“No” he said forcefully. “No that’s not what I meant. I…”

Vol rose smoothly and walked forward, reaching out and grabbing the man in a grip that was unyielding, soft but unbreakable.

Without waiting he kissed the man, deeply, passionately, possessively.

Andrei fought him, shoved him backward.

“What?” the man hissed in a whisper. “That’s not why, I mean. Leave me alone.”

Vol leaped back gracefully, his smile never wavering but his eyes held Andrei’s. He said nothing, he knew this game to well. He knew what came next, but it would have to be Andrei who made the next move.

Suddenly it was like something snapped and Andrei leaped forward, drawing Vol close, kissing him, this time it was softer, welcoming.

Vol smiled and circled his arms around his new lover, this was what he had been waiting for. He kissed him back with fervor.

“Come love” he whispered. “Let me satisfy your curiosity.”

Quietly he led the man to his bed. This would take time, plenty of time. He wondered if the wife was already watching the two of them.Baba was amused by being called “Lady”. She hadn’t had that level of respect in a long time. Even if Vol were being mocking, it was a nice change. It didn’t take her long to spot the man peeling away from his wife and their child. It was painfully easy for her to intercept the two of them with an offer of a way to amuse the child.

Baba leaned down to the woman and whispered, “don’t you wonder what your husband is doing right now?” She motioned to a large mirror in her tent and stepped behind the woman as she began to narrate each action, just in case the mother missed what her husband was doing with Vol.

She felt the hurt and rage building in her companion as she watched and listened to Baba gently explaining, digging the betrayal deeper even as a spell was woven to leave the woman easy prey to her own fury.

“You know, Catherine,” she said in the woman’s native tongue. “You should get him back. You could destroy something he holds more dear than you. If only a man, a husband, a father, had something so dear that you could ruin it violently. He might be hungry after all that work. You could be a good wife and prepare him a special meal. I can lend you the pot if you like.”

The woman’s mouth was a vile snarl. Baba took the time to capture the child begging her mother for mercy during the pleasant bout of butchery. She even helped the woman season the dish with some spare herbs a customer had forgotten in her rush to escape the fate she’d been dealt. Vol would surely enjoy this as much as she did.Vol rested, his arms crossed behind his head, as he tried to figure out the time. Somewhere close to dark he was pretty sure. He had taken his time with Andrei. It had been truly enjoyable and now the young man was half asleep, sated in ways his wife had never managed.

Vol smiled down at him and stroked his chest, carefully waking him.

“Time to wake up love” he said softly. “You should be getting home soon. Your wife…”

Andrei paled visably. “My wife” he exclaimed. She can’t know, she can never know. This…”

Vol silenced him with a deep kiss.

“I won’t tell her” he said in a reassuring voice.

Andrei nodded and dressed quickly. Vol watched, admiring the view. The man was really quite stunning as far as males went. Vol was relaxed, rested, and sated. Andrei had talents, talents that Vol hadn’t expected in a first timer. It was definitely a good day.

Andrei left the tent, peeking around first before heading out. Vol followed a few moments later shadowing the man as he hurried to find his wife.“Remember to not tell him until after he’s eaten,” reminded Baba. She watched from the shadows as the woman ran up to her husband and kissed him. It was an impressive act. Then the woman was dragging him into a ‘spare’ tent that Baba had put together. It wouldn’t last long, but it would survive long enough.

The woman ushered him inside, both of them not quite aware that they were still on the Carnival grounds. Baba admired how the wife pretended nothing was bothering her as she served up the main course. She slipped over to stand next to Vol silently as the drama began to unfold for them.

The wife began shouting some of the more inventive insults Baba had heard from a Russian mouth and was amused to hear some impolite suggestions about the man’s parentage and the effects it would have on his progeny. It was a long torrent of spite and hatred pouring forth. Baba wondered if there might have been some suppressed issues in there.

The big reveal was the best moment for her. The woman lifted up the covering, revealing their daughter’s severed head, the face still a mask of terror and betrayal. Baba’s magics began to set the stage for absorbing the souls as the two both became aware of how many sharp objects had somehow been left behind on the table.Vol leaned casually on his cane as he watched the drama unfold. The sight of the severed head bothered him, though he didn’t let on. Cannibalism was a repulsive idea to him, but the impact the reveal had on his former lover was beyond repulsion. Vol could feel the hate between the two, the fear, the disgust, and yet oddly it was still tainted with the man’s passion from the hours before.

It was a strange combination and a heady one. It was also everything he had been hoping for.

The man leaped from his seat and grabbed a spiked club. He didn’t even wonder why there had been a spiked club leaning against the table. He simply started shouting at the woman calling her every possible foul name for a female, and many that are generally reserved for goats, pigs, devils, and demons.

He was swinging his club wildly with each shout and Vol wondered if anyone else was hearing all the ruckus the two were making. They were certainly not quiet.

One blow connected with the woman’s arm, the spikes driving deep into her arm. Vol raised his eyebrows as the sight of blood seemed not to concern either of the two but rather spur them on. Baba’s magic at work no doubt. Or perhaps just sheer uncontrolled anger.Baba had of course seen to it that minor issues like noise wouldn’t be a problem. She would not be having her fun spoiled by someone complaining or raising a fuss. Instead, the sounds were trapped in the enchantments on the tent. She would trap them in a card later to be replayed for the joy of it.

The woman had grabbed a knife and slashed her husband’s face. And there were more words. Lots of vulgar terms for just about everything she’d heard of. They had begun to repeat themselves despite the language’s faculty for rudeness, when the husband finally seemed to begin suffering from blood loss. His wife knifed him in the groin and shoved him back to watch him bleed to death.

Apparently he wasn’t as dead as the woman thought. That spiked club lashed out, smashing her knee and then rose and fell onto her abdomen, tearing into her womb from above. Baba nearly clapped her hands at the level of carnage. Slowly, two drifts of smoke rose up. They both floated towards Baba, but she flicked one as one might an unruly child and pointed it towards Vol.

“Dinner.” She twirled the soul around her fingers before inhaling it and closing her eyes as finely crafted agony and horror mingled with rage and cruelty and spite. It was a dark taste, but one that she suspected might be addictive, if only for the rush of power that she felt for a moment as the soul was destroyed.Vol shook his head as he watched the two kill themselves. He should be using people in his animal training act, not wolverines. These two were equally as vicious. He idly wondered for a moment if that would work. It was a thought to ponder on another day.

Now though he held a hand out as the soul floated towards him. It was his lover’s soul. He almost always consumed the souls of his lovers, he was familiar with that taste. He loved how delicious a soul that had truly connected to him on an intimate level could be. This was like nothing he had ever had before.

It took dark, earthy, bitter, sweet, and very very rich. It was like a bittersweet chocolate torte from a prime pastry chef. He wanted to savor this soul for as long as he possibly could.

It was deeply arousing, to sip the soul down ever so slowly. He actually had to lean against something to catch his breath for a moment afterward.

“I’m pretty sure” he said softly to Baba “that that is the best thing I have ever eaten in my entire life.”

“The soul of one of my lovers is like a grain of rice, empty and inefficient, compared to this. A hundred lovers would be fun, but I doubt even they would satisfy in this way.”

“I don’t think I can go back now, back to those pale weak souls, so thin and unfilling. They satisfy the hunger, but nothing else.”Baba chuckled. “I can get close with some of my better aged works, I admit, but I’ve not had a rush like that in a long time. Maybe ever.” Her smile was cruel. “We make a disturbingly effective team, young Vol. And I wonder if you can find someone who can distill the soul the way I can.”

She placed a blank card on the table and motioned for him to exit. The moment they did, the tent collapsed on itself, leaving behind only the card, now showing the tent. “I have their little one’s trapped soul around. And I captured the mother’s cookery if you find yourself interested in those.”

Kodama watched the show put on by chance with the young lad in the crowd he only shook his head "Lad be careful she is a delicate thing," Kodama poked fun laughing to himself watching chance flip over and come back to him."Okay Lasses and gentlemen it seems our time right now is at a end, but I wish to leave you with a real him dinger of a send off" the snake still coiled around his arm trying to eat its master looking up with a glare are Chance kissed it and got close, Kodama held out the arm with the ssnake,blood still running from the bite then he raised his other hand a dagger that was tattooed to his forearm slid across and into his palm before becoming a true dagger.

"Now if we have any member of Peta in the crowd, come tell me after how much of a horrible disgusting monster I am after show, it really means a lot to me" with a joyous laugh he stuck the snake severing its head from the body as it fell to the ground it started to turn to a mist and reform back on kodama's body the crowd gasped the blood of the snake and what blood it had of kodama's inside it bust and splashed over 3 others in the crowd.

"Thank you, thank you...." He noticed no one was clapping when he took his bow, he licked the blood from the dagger offered a lick to Chance like it was a ice cream cone the crowd disbursed "some people don't get art....Ah! Yes food let's get some grub I am thinking steak...raw...maybe still mooing let's see who i mean what we can find so you can sink your pretty little teeth into, " the dagger started to disappear as well going back to the empty spot where it came from.