"Hey, what are you doing?"

"I'm just blowing a fag back here." Cocking an eyebrow at the circus goers, one of the newbies, this was--what? This was the second time he'd answer that way, and whether it was the general smoking or the underlying sexual humor, yet again he had gotten that sort of slack jawed reaction. It was going to lose it's novelty, as it often does with the younger members of their circus, and in time it would become all and only annoying in it's entirety. But for now...Odd didn't bother to look the person further in the eye and instead made a dismissive wave with his hand, only allowing himself to snicker out loud after they had left the tent.

Rolling the cigarette from one side of his mouth to the other, he blew warm smoke out from between his lips and adjusted his seat on the crate, absently spinning the dial of the combination lock in hand. The lock in hand was solved many times over, and the dial was looser than the lips of a gossip, the sound of it's spinning had become one of this escape artist's morning prayer. From this spot in the back area of this main performance tent, he did not watch the normal people mill around from between the tent flaps, rather he chose this spot to instead watch the help work here and there. Bringing feed to hungry horses, voracious lions, and even more fierce in appetite performers. Cleaning the dropped popcorn, candy-caramel apples...animal droppings...

Taking a few more moments to mow down the rest of the cigarette, the boy shaped man brought the lock up and stubbed the cigarette out on the back of it, before getting off of his crate and slipping the butt into his pocket. Odd didn't want to get an earful like the last time he left a cigarette butt on the ground, littering on circus grounds...making the place less presentable. Yikes, and yikes alike. Rubbing the black ash off the back of his combination lock, he dropped it into his little coat pocket with the rest and stepped up to part the tent flaps, peeking into the connecting tent. From the looks of it, the audience just got done seeing an interesting performance.

Odd's own performance ran alongside, or in tandem with the circus acrobat's own. Either twists and folding on a chair or table in manners that would break your grandparent's back by merely observing the sight, or folding and unfolding from a tight clear box before a crowd, all while some acrobats are flipping around or up above on some high wires with a high stakes act. That being said, Odd himself was no master in acrobatics, nor were any acrobats as masterful in the contortionist arts as he. Still, when a performance had to go on, and either of were unable, the crowd wouldn't know the difference from a regular performance and a lesser performance with a substitute.

Frow where he stood away from it all, an acrobat beckoned him, and he could see that they'd like him at the center of it all. A clear box on a table was already set out, and the audience was already assembling at the stands. A clear box...that would have been a hell of a thing to be crammed into stead, when his father tossed him into the ocean...watching the endless, expansive abyss grow larger and nearer still, and being absolutely helpless. Shaking such thoughts from his head, Odd cartwheeled himself right on in, just as the light went down and the spot lights went on.