Silent said

Annaliese gave him a cheeky grin and said, "I'm sure I could cook up a spell that would allow them to remain in perfect condition for the rest of our days here." She then frowned a little but it vanished immediately. "But then again, a chip or crack can give a doll more character than any paint ever could." That's when a sad, but true, smile appeared upon her rosy lips. "Perhaps that's what we could have been like, if we'd been allowed to live in our own lifetimes... but... then again, many of us wouldn't have had much more time to live if this place hadn't rolled around when it had." Sorrow had seeped from her words like water from a spout. "Tell me what dolls you want me to charm and I'll do that for them. I just want them to last longer than I will."

Then he mentioned something about the bride being envious of her, but wouldn't say. She knelt so that she was at eye level with the doll and gave it a wink and another sad smile. "Well, there's nothing to be envious of me. You've got a groom waiting for you, I'm sure. Mine waited and died of old age before I could return to him." She then stood up a little straighter than she normally stood. She was blushing slightly and gave Andre a somewhat bashful smile. "I'm sorry, sweetie... You're dolls are easier to talk to than people. I can see why you'd want to be around them more often than around other people, especially the kind that we are."

She then stepped close enough that she had to tilt her head up to look him in the eye. "Well, I'll give you the key to my tent." She raised a hand and waved it in front of his eyes. "No matter how much I've concealed my door, you'll always be able to find it. Just don't get lost. Always take the left door. Never stray, otherwise you may end up somewhere that you truly wish yourself not to be. Then she stepped back a little to give him his space. She knew him well, but not well enough to assess whether he enjoyed close proximity with her or for her to keep her distance. He had inquired about her show a few moments before and she gave him a vixen grin. "My show isn't for another hour, but you are more than welcome to come see. I may feel inspired to shake up my normal routine."

‘...the rest of our days here.’ How long might that be? André had been there just short of a century. Annaliese longer. Diedra and Caius had lived the equivalent of his life more than a couple times over. He didn’t think anyone even knew how long Madame Sombre had been around. Her very existence seemed a rebellion against the world and its laws. They were unnatural. He could not help but find it wrong that the Cirque de Noir and its performers should exist. People should not live longer than civilizations. And yet here they were, doing just that. Ah, but such depressing thoughts he was thinking. Those wouldn’t do. He was eternally required to smile, after all.

“When the imperfections appear, I usually repair them anyhow. Few of my puppets like to be flawed. And to mention they tend to appeal more to audiences when their paint is less chipped.” He wanted to say more, but found he couldn’t. The reflections of her sorrow killed the words still unformed in his throat. Instead he said something more quietly and on instinct. “Je suis désolé.” André would have liked greatly to ease her woe, yet offering comfort was not a skill he was well versed in, therefore, he let the moment pass after an added line. “I will do so. You have our thanks.”

Watching Annaliese talk with the marionette, however, was quite a different scene, of the better variety. André couldn’t help but grin brightly when she straightened up. Especially noticing the tinge to her cheeks. “You should visit them more often, surely they tire of myself. A change of pace, and perhaps, a lovelier face, would brighten their day.” He chose not to mention that he had not had any plans to make an accompanying groom for the doll. “The kind that we are? What does mademoiselle mean with such words?”

André had not expected Annaliese to take a step forward, and he was caught slightly off guard. While far from unwelcome, physical closeness was not something he was very used to. It was probably his unintentional doing. In general, André did have a habit of spending more time around his puppets than he did other people, especially in more recent years. Recent years meaning a decade or so. At the moment nearness seemed like it might have been a good thing, or perhaps that was specifically being near Annaliese? He could not tell. Either way, this was the closest he’d been to a person in a some time.

“Merci Mademoiselle, I shall be sure to visit you more often now.” André could count today as the first time he’d actually heard of a tent with a key. And first times were rare now. He paid attention to her words. They were the important kind. He also could not help to feel particularly special. She stepped away and for half a moment he’d the urge to pull her back. Realising this, he chuckled briefly, before replying to her invitation to her show. “Expect me there, mademoiselle.” As André spoke he grabbed some threads from on top of the table and twirled them together until they were one thicker string. “In order to appease, I think I shall perform a shorter show of my own between now and then.” He put the string he’d made through the key and tied it off before slipping it over his head. “I’d encourage you to return for your own preparation, yet I’d not mind should you remain longer.”

And with that, André returned to the larger tent. Removing the sign from Marie’s hand as another puppet went to open the tent door.

Diedra paused. For a moment, the silence in the backstage was deafening, as she gazed upon Madame Sombre and she gave her one of those endearing little smiles that won her over in the first place...but this, this was different. Madame Sombre knew of Diedra's long-dead feelings for her and every time, she seems to try and re-spark them with each of those little smiles, and for the slightest of moments it works and Diedra doubts herself. But, soon after, Diedra remembered the stage-hands, and her expression hardened into a coy, challenging grin.

"There is a reason why I avoid you, Monochrome...you're simply not my type anymore. I prefer someone with a little more...life, to them." Diedra commented, twirling a finger through her own hair teasingly. "Besides, those days are long over for me...you killed them, remember?" she added, with a coldness that nipped at the end of the sentence like a hungry dog.

Diedra reacted automatically when she was forced to sit, smoothly reclining and folding her legs as if it was her intention to sit the entire time...her reaction times were uncannily quick. Perhaps that is what one's reward is for dealing with horses and pushing your luck for around 700 years. Her steady violet gaze pierced Madame Sombre's, as she listened intently to what she had to say.

"I love the way you assume that I am always speaking highly of you," purred Diedra; she had a knack for being brutally blunt as it is; no need to tell her to do something that occurs so naturally to her. "Let's get one thing straight; you and me, we're both quite alike...and we have the same goals in mind. You have Tanner, and I have Caius, but this? Let's just have a girl talk. You...and me. It doesn't have to leave this room unless it's dearly necessary, hm?"

Diedra also leaned forward, the coy smile on her face fading. "The stage hands. Be honest - you know I can tell when you're lying - did you kill them? Do you know where they went?" asked Diedra seriously. At that moment, the music for her performance boomed out of the speakers, as the horses started to repeat their act to a cheering audience without their master controlling them. "You can either be as blunt as I am, or you can be vague, and I can assume the worst and spread rumours that'll cause much more trouble in the long run than a few measly murders."

Diedra smirked at Madame Sombre, steepling her fingers together smugly.

Stitches said .

Madame Sombre chuckled. She had always loved the amount of life that Diedra showed, even though the woman believed herself to be dead. Her left eye glowed an emerald green as she assessed the fire that was blazing within the other woman. Still as lively as ever... such a pity that I can't have her spunk. The words that the woman spoke were vicious yet they were sweet. Diedra was simply looking out for the other performers, not herself. Selfless... she is the epitome of what I was once like, all those years ago. Too bad that she'll soon realize that the flame within her is slowly burning out and into nothing. She watched as the woman became more and more aggressive, though acting as sweet as ever. This woman truly was the "Mother" of the circus. "Then let's talk, my dearest Diedra. That's why I'm here."

"Ah, so the stagehands are the reason you're so angry." She sat back, Her eyes reverting back to black as she felt herself become as old as she truly was. Her eyes showed countless centuries of experience in this sort of thing. She folded her hands across her lap as elegantly as ever. Though her lips smiled, her eyes became as dark and loathing as the ever approaching Abyss. "They vanished nearly three weeks ago... why continue to mourn them? They were talentless bastards that wanted more than they could ever receive. They brought their own doom upon them by searching for something that should never be sought for-- power." The word hung in the air like a weight from a fine string that would break at any given moment. "This isn't the first time that this has happened, although, it happened long before I scooped you up and into this safe-haven...."

She took a deep breath to calm herself and contain her anger and the bile that was rising up her throat. "Did you know why this circus came to be, my dear?" Her eyes turned all black and her presence seemed to envelope the entirety of the tent. "Please, do tell me if you know the true answer."

Silent said

Annaliese smiled ever more sadly when he asked what they were. "Trust me... you do not wish to see the truth." In the dim lighting, it may have appeared that tears had formed in her eyes, but within milliseconds, they had vanished. "We are merely tools that are to be used up until there is nothing left." She then turned back to his dolls and gave them a big smile. "Please do bring a few of your dearest friends with you whenever you decide to visit. I love having many guests to attend to. It keeps my mind off of... other things." Looking over her shoulder, she noticed that he was readying himself for another of his shows. "You will do well, mon amie, and I expect you to be there on time. When that time is... I guess that's whenever you get there." She gave him a foxy wink and vanished.

Reappearing outside of his tent, she watched as people flooded into his tent after hearing of his first performance of the night from their fellow patrons. She smiled a little at the sight and then turned away, a sad smile forming once again on her lips. Stepping lightly and unnoticed through the crowd, she kept an eye out for Tanner or Madame Sombre. I can't sense the Madame, but... I can tell that Tanner is probably on the prowl. "I should return to my tent now..." She muttered under her breath before she made her way across the circus to her placement. Looking up at the small tent, she felt a tear drift down her cheek. How much longer will we be able to perform here before we, too, vanish without a trace...?

She stepped into her tent and made her way to the back. Upon entering her 'home', lush rugs and comfortable furniture were scattered here and there. Looking to the left and the right, she gazed upon each door before walking into the one on the right. Hopefully I'll be able to return in a decent state of mind before my next performance. Then again... have I ever been truly sane? Darkness swallowed her up and she simply floated there, allowing her mind to wander and conjure beautiful and horrific locations.

Diedra felt Madame Sombre's darkness suck out the life from the room, but her resolve was resolute; she would not fall. Not to this woman, not again, or ever again for as long as she still breathed. And as the darkness started to envelop the tent, Diedra thumbed her bright clothes, reminding herself that she still held onto the last scraps of life and they were touching her skin and giving her strength.

The pair were the complete opposites of each other; one stood for everything dark, souless and hopeless, whilst the other represented colour, life and hope.

"Careful, you might be scaring my audience out there. They search for power, and this isn't the first time...why, I wouldn't be surprised if I know how this circus came to be, Monochrome. No consequences for this chat, though, hmmmn? I don't want to be snuffed out like those stage-hands, and I think you think I have a plan if that does happen, and I can assure you; like this new-found electricity that you incorporated into my acts, this circus will need -two- batteries to run." explained Diedra in a low and thrilling voice...it was moments like these that she lived for; the real risk of danger.

"Long ago, back in Al-Andalus, the Christians tried to over-run my people with talk of their own belief, and naturally I faltered in my own long enough to listen. As you know, I was never good at...holding to promises." purred Diedra, leaning forward a little as her violet eyes bored into the endless black of Madame Sombre's.

"The Christians spoke of those who sinned; those who reached too far and became dark, and how these people, enveloped in one of their seven sins, would have to pay the price. Before I became one of your little puppets, I was lustful, and wanted more; hence your appearance, your trickery, and my downfall." murmured Diedra. She placed her most heartfelt emotion into each and every syllable. One of the few ways to avoid losing hope is to remember what one happens to be fighting for, and Diedra only stumbled against the strain of Madame Sombre's power, continuing to push against it.

"But we are all sinners here, are we not? I dare say you may have wanted something badly too, and it mightn't have been myself, but perhaps power - power that the stagehands were seeking. And you were given power, but forced into slavery by the forces of this circus. Don't you dare think that I am as heartless as you; I can tell, I can see you're just as much of a slave as I am, and we're bound in the same irons. You did not ask me, remember, how I think the circus to have arrived. Perhaps it was always there, long before man was even aware of it. You asked me why, and my theory is simple - we, the blessed with our magical gifts, or cursed with our destructive power, are too sinful and too strong to remain in view of the others." Diedra paused, pulling her features into a cat-like grin.

"It's a holding-cell for the wretched, Monochrome. That's what I think. We are never allowed to leave but we must never be allowed to waste our gifts. Our power drives the circus, the circus drives us around the world a thousand times over. But it doesn't explain the missing stage-hands, and it doesn't explain why you, of all people, chose to finally meet me in person so urgently too."

Diedra leaned back once more. Perhaps it was a good thing she was forced to sit down, else she would've been moving about all over the place by now restlessly and passionately gesticulating with her words. "So, let's try this again, then. If I got the answer wrong, then enlighten me, or don't, it wasn't what I asked you for anyway and it would be a nice little gift to know the origins of my 'hell'. But the stage-hands clearly did something that they should not have done, and clearly you wish to keep it quiet else you would have never bothered to see me at all. Think carefully about your answer, and include the fate of the men who died in a circus that does not allow death."

"What a wonderful gift you have" a familiar voice came from behind the puppet master. The voice though was not filled with honest compliment, instead it held onto this iniquity that roamed through the tent in the form of sound. It wasn't a pleasurable tune the voice, it was surely a void of twilight, a dark and grim speaking rhythm that created such a somber atmosphere. "Please do have your puppets close the tent my son, I need a word" the mystery spoke yet again. His hands clasped behind him as though he was chained to his lower back, but it was merely to remain in perfect posture.

His back was aligned to his tailbone, his hood perfectly over his head, casting a shadow that hid any locus of skin. All that was visible was the white skeletal like mask that hid underneath a layer of cloth. The red circle on his forehead was vividly intensifying as the darkness around the two beings seemed to grow even darker. One could say Tanner seemed like a shadow itself, a dark area or shape produced by a body coming between rays of light and a surface. He was an ominous oppressiveness of sadness and gloom. So despite his proposal to close the tent, he forced himself to do it, for he was the constant.

He passed André up and headed to the entrance, stepping over the puppet to show his overwhelming size comparison. With both gloved hands, he pulled the tent's curtains together, shutting down the marionette act before it was scheduled to begin. There were more important matters at hand. As Tanner turned back around his luminous blue eyes glanced at the puppet beneath him. He crouched down - as though bowing - and picked up the little animated creature. "What do you call this one?" he asked André. "I'm certain they all have names or am I mistaken?".

"You see......some are just meant to be pawns don't you think? Like this one" Tanner finally truly started, eyeing the puppet in his hand. "It is truly a work of art this thing. But what is its purpose? Does it truly entertain? Or is its only purpose to close tent doors?"

"Pawns like this puppet here are disposable. Like in chess, they are sacrificial for the greater victory. I'm certain you've heard the saying. France has lost a battle, but France has not lost the war. This was said by Charles André Joseph Marie de Gaulle, a French military leader who rose the ranks and became leader of the Free French Forces, a government-in-exile that continued to fight the Axis Powers during World War Two. The Germans were more powerful than one could imagine during that era. A superpower. So people were sacrificed for the greater picture. Many French died during their battles, so did Americans. Is it not funny how life seems to be a game of chess? How victory at all cost is all that matters?" Tanner asked, chuckling a bit under his mask.

"This puppet truly is art. I can normally sense the emotions of people, but I realize these things have no souls" he stated as his blue eyes turned towards André. "Despite them being a part of you they lack what make them human and not mindless marionettes. These are truly pawns in your game are they not? You act like you care for them, but only use them for your selfish desires to entertain the crowd, to feel...............accepted" Tanner finished as he paused for a second, allowing André to take it all in. He squeezed the puppet's head in his hand and wondered if they could feel, but sensed no pain. The masked man did not stop until he heard a crack and then smiled at the comfort of such a glorious sharp sound.

"Anyhow........" he started again after placing the puppet back where he had first got it. "....I only came here to ask if you'd seen Annaliese around? I was just in her quarters and she was absent, nowhere to be seen. She was not with Diedra either, I stopped by her tent first. It sometimes pains me to see such a system crumble before my eyes. I witness such sadness and sorrow, but at times I'm not even certain if that is honestly what I capture. Because emotions tend to hide themselves under other ones. Sadness hides behind anger. Regret beneath doubt. Envy under pride. But my eyes see it all nonetheless. I sometimes think myself as the All-Seeing Eye, hahaha!" Tanner laughed aloud. His grievance was like a fiery malice that roamed the atmosphere around them. The tent became full of red aura - which was sometimes a questionable illusion. "But do not worry son, I don't think you a pawn. You are the knight,a worshiper of the queen and the pawns shall sacrifice themselves in your name, for your victory."

And suddenly, all that aura and gloaming dusk vanished as the tent was once again opened which allowed rays of lights to pierce through and eradicate the shadows. "You make for pleasant company André my son. Anyhow, I am off to find Annaliese."

Stitches said

Sombre sat there silently as Diedra ranted about how she had come to the circus and everything that she believed it stood for. The woman believed this place to be a hellhole made specifically for those with abnormalities. She couldn't help but chuckle quietly when Diedra became more and more passionate about the circus. If only she could see what I've seen. Then she would think twice about this place... She thought in a coy manner. The horse-mistress seemed to believe herself to be the only thing protecting the others from Sombre and Tanner, which was an odd way to put it, but in a certain way, the older woman could believe it to be true. She was the villain, just as she had always been. "My, my... quite a lot on your conscious, is there not?" Her voice was mocking and cold.

Standing up, the shadows that had come from her very soul were drawn back into her and she seemed to be completely normal, just with an authoritative air surrounding her. "You see, this place was not created to protect people like us from the world nor was it's original intention to entertain." She motioned around at the monochrome tent and gave her a saddening smile, one that made the woman seem almost human for a brief moment, but it was gone in the next moment when she began to speak once more. "Instead of giving you a full history of this place, which I may save for another time over a cup of tea, I shall tell you about Carmen, Daniel, and Jacques."

Sombre then sighed and continued onward, feeling slightly weary at all of this nonsense, "They had joined this circus many decades ago, as you may recall, and they did nothing but the best to help out our performers and make sure that the patrons were acting accordingly towards us." She clasped her hands in front of her, like she normally did when she meant to tell a story. "I was quite fond of all of them, I had even believed that I would have deemed Carmen my successor if he hadn't betrayed the circus like he did." Suddenly, there were pure spite in her voice as she continued onward, hatred and anger filling every syllable and breath in between. "He had come to my tent one even for a cup of tea, just like he normally would, and we would discuss things that could be improved and various additions that may spice up the circus for a change. Alas, he suddenly asked me an odd question that had come from out of the blue, one that no one as young as he should have asked... 'how does the circus power itself'?"

Her eyes flashed violently. "He asked me and when he received his answer... I wiped his memory, just as I normally would, but someone here must have unveiled it to him and reminded him of the answer that I gave to him. That's when he began to speak to Daniel and Jacques about the true roots of this circus, trying to uncover a way to kill us off before any of our patrons were harmed. Alas..." She took a breath and calmed down. "What he had meant to do was to tear this place down around our ears and remove the perfect balance that has kept us going for as long as we have. He meant to kill each and every one of us."

"So, I gave him another warning, telling him that if he did just as he and the others planned to do, that I would have no other choice but to send them away from the circus, stripping them of all of the powers I had granted to them... but listening was never his strong suit." She looked straight into Diedra's eyes, her gaze like daggers. "That's when my beloved destroyed them. I did nothing to them but warn them of impending doom if they threatened to harm the rest of us."

Then she sighed and gave a gentle nod in the direction of the performing tent. "Your show is almost over. I shall leave you to think things through, for I won't prevent my lover from sapping what's left of your precious energy." Then she turned and walked out as if they had simply spoke of the weather. Although she had never mentioned her 'beloved' before to anyone, she knew that it would throw Diedra for a loop. As far as the performers were concerned, Sombre was the mistress.

“One shall certainly not come alone, then.” André gave a smile, “I only fear it might be hard to choose which. All would be delighted.” Any change of scenery might delight their moods. Those who’d been around the longest were beginning to feel a little glum. His interactions with Annaliese left André in a pleasant mood and he felt that his next show might be quite a good one.

A familiar voice caused André to take pause. Never had the puppeteer liked authority. Not before Cirque de Noir and certainly not since. Mild discomfort had started to set, to be joined with annoyance when Tanner next spoke. The Ringmaster seemed to have the act of supremacy which André could tolerate the least. Being addressed as ‘my son’ was one thing. Having someone tell him what his marionettes should do, was another. André was not of the inherently defiant types, therefore, a small part of him was, at least, relieved when Tanner closed the tent flap himself. This was quickly forgotten when the man picked up the puppet.

“Henri.” André replied sharply, not even bothering to try to conceal the bitterness creeping into his voice. It would have been fairly pointless, anyway. Pawns? No one, was meant to be a pawn. Certainly not any of André’s dolls. “All of my marionettes entertain. Make your point already.”

André said nothing while Tanner went on one of his little monologues. He was registering the words, but caring little. The annoyance caused by Henri in Tanner’s grasp had not faded, and was now joined by a minor but prevalent woe. “Whatever sick game of chess you play, I’d like no part.” André knew little of Tanner and cared to keep it that way, yet, could the Ringmaster really feel that way? There was a great deal more André wanted to say. He wished to unleash things long kept and not quiet until his throat was raw. But this was not his personal crusade. It was actually a very insignificant moment. Thoughts were better to keep to himself. Tanner would leave eventually. And the Cirque de Noir would continue on.

While André had been willing to let his own opinions on war, life, and victory pass, he wasn’t willing to stand there while Tanner belittled his feelings for his dolls. Then he heard the crack, wretched and sharp. It caused his gut to twist. Sadness hadn’t even a second to linger before anger took over. “You might presume you know something about me, tu monstre, yet you do not.” The puppeteer took several steps forward. “If you think it is solely in my interest they are in my performances and if you think my aim is ‘feel accepted.’ Try again.”

“Annaliese probably went somewhere to avoid being found.” André retorted. Now walking over to one of his shelves and replacing one of the small candles. “I’m not in the business of worshipping a Queen. That would be the English. And any ‘pawn’ dying for my victory should go find a new life.” Resisting the urge to throw something at Tanner had become quite difficult, so it came as a relief when he left. André stood facing the shelf for a few more seconds as the disdain subsided. That was when the sorrow sat in.

The puppeteer quickly made his way over to check on Henri. Even before he’d knelt down, he could see damage. There seemed a tightening in his stomach when he gazed upon the doll.

“It's a lovely doll. Such a shame.” André looked up to see a woman and child had already entered the tent. It was more than a shame. They would not have understood, though. No one would have.

“Indeed. Pardonne-moi, I shall return shortly. Please make yourself comfortable, Madame.” With that he took Henri back into the smaller tent and placed him on the work desk. He hesitated for a second before making his way back out and onto the stage. Quite a few others had joined the crowd and so he began. Regardless of his feelings, the show must go on.

“I welcome you to the show, dear ladies and gentlemen!”

Lifting her sunglasses to the crown of her head Priscilla gazed around the crowd that was gathering in front of the large black gates. ”Did everyone receive a ticket like I did or did these suckers actually buy it?” Cici pondered, trying to find a ticket office without much luck. Lighting a cigarette she took a drag and people watched for a few minutes.

"Welcome, my friends!" The woman’s voice startled Priscilla but it was a pleasant surprise, considering the woman was quite tired of waiting outside in this heat. Cici had been wearing a black pegged jean tucked into a pair of her tackiest teal combat boots, paired with a black wide strap tank top; she hadn’t really been prepared for such circumstances. Living in New York and taking the subway had trained her to being used to air conditioning at all times. Her dark almond eyes browsed the look of the woman, and she couldn’t feel a strange feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. This would surely be the woman that she would need to find around later to ask for a job.

"I would like to thank you all for coming to my humble home, Cirque de Noir! Please feel free to leave any donations upon leaving our wonderful show, for I do not ask for payment other than your shining smiles and musical laughter!" Cici scoffed, and thought about leaving the remains of her cigarette in this ‘donation’ area if the woman didn’t give her a job tonight, but only time would tell.

Walking with the crowd inside, the sea parted and Priscilla found herself overwhelmed with excitement. The land was decorated with a monotone theme and yet it would appear to be the most colorful place Cici had experienced in years.

The smells. The sounds.

It was heaven.

Traveling from tent to tent, Priscilla spent time watching each and every performance. She didn’t draw too much attention to herself, but applauded loudly at the end of each show. Each person was extremely talented and entertaining, and Cici began to day dream of her own tent to herself and what she would wear, do, and all the money she would make. “I have to go find that woman.” Cici nodded as she left once again another performance, ”But first, a funnel cake.” she spoke out loud getting in line for a delicious treat that would have to be her breakfast and lunch that day.

Odd was backstage once again after the show, only this time in the presence of the rest of the acrobatic group of the circus. They often rehearsed various routines, but the first performance of the day was the real first work out. This one had only one mistake done by another, which was played off easily enough by stumbling and rolling into a simple routine, all Odd did was take on odd flexibilities and end his portion of the show by folding himself into a suitcase.

Backstage again…like any who drums their fingers on the surface of a table top in their idleness, the contortionist spun the dial of the combination lock with his thumb. There really couldn't be much to do other than prepare for to also preform for the next show, or to do his own thing…acrobats were always much better working in groups, anyways.

Taking his leave of the group, Odd didn’t take a moment to glance up at the sky, and hurried along as quickly as any as if the sky was pouring down heavy rain. Hurrying along, weaving through a small group of visitors, and around a chest newly placed beside a spare tent, and strode purposefully into the intended tent. As there are no doors to close tents, Odd could only raise a hand up in a fluid motion, pulling the tied cloths and let the tent flaps fall closed. The only light in no longer sun lit tent made the room seem…no, not ominous, rather…mystical.

Standing up with a measure of tall, proud posture...or as much ‘tall’ as he could muster, Odd stood and faced Caius, the corning of his mouth quirking into a bit of a smirk, “You couldn't possibly have been expecting anyone other than me, were you?” With this quip obviously jabbing at the man’s role of Fortune Teller, “Now, I leave the easier question for you to answer…?”

The next customer that came in was probably the most annoying type of all. The one that visited all the time, expecting something different and never believed Caius when he said that wasn't how his powers worked. Of course there was only one person it could possibly be. Otto. The boy closed the flaps of the tent, casting them into shadow broken only by the candles and the crystals that hung above them. He sighed at the boy's quip, proving his point that he never listened. "Otto, child." He said, his making it obvious that he was poking at the boy's height and child-like appearance. "I've told before, that isn't how my powers work. I can't see whatever I want, whenever I want. There are rules. I'm already breaking the natural order by seeing the future in the first place."

Caius sometimes wondered whether or not any place would want him after he died. Or if the higher powers would just spit him back out onto Earth because he angered them by messing with fate. "As for your easier question... Give me your hands and I'll see if I can answer it." Caius didn't tell anybody, mostly out of pride, but it was always more difficult to see the futures of those in the circus. Everything was always, fuzzy in a way. Like he was watching something in very low quality. Most likely it was due to the fact that none of them should even be alive. Or perhaps it was part of the curse? Either way, Caius could still make out enough to answer questions, but never much more than that. And he never dared to look more than a year ahead. It just seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

Besides, most of their future was certain already. At least, considering they couldn't die, he couldn't accidentally stumble upon anybody's death. He could never actually see it, the vision would just go black. But it would always give him a headache. The kind that throbbed and stabbed all at the same time and felt like his head was being squeezed. He may not have been able to die, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel pain.

Caius used to care about getting in trouble with Madame Sombre, or Tanner, which if they caught him telling one of the circus performer's futures he certainly would. But now he just didn't care. Without the threat of death hanging over his head, there just wasn't much they could do to him anymore. And he had lived long enough that death's embrace would be sweet not bitter. The older the performers got, the less of a hold Madame Sombre and Tanner had on them.

[Silent & MissCapnCrunch Collab]

With her fingertips grasping the edge of her plate Priscilla watched the puppeteer perform his magnificent show. The plate she held was filled to the brim with her beloved funnel cake, drizzled with powdered sugar, and enough sweetness to give even the most enthusiastic child a tummy ache. The funnel cake was a bit too hot yet to dig into with bare fingers, so Cici waited patiently until she could dig into her breakfast/lunch combo. Her dark eyes panned back and forth between the dolls on the stage, it was quite impressive how smooth the actions were, as if they had been practicing for hundreds of years.

As the show wrapped up, Cici used her lips to show her appreciation giving a loud whistle towards the performer. She would have given a huge round of applause but her hands were full after all. Almost as quickly as the audience came, they began to disperse to the other tents. Mostly children and the rude teenager alike pushed and prodded at Priscilla as she tried to leave the area herself. It was then misfortune arrived as the funnel cake tilted and teetered right onto the pant leg of Andre himself. Looking from her plate, to Andre's pants, and then up to his soft face, Priscilla's mouth parted in to a mix between a snarl and shock. "Hey, what's the big deal here!?" she yelled, reaching down and grabbing the burning hot funnel cake to only let it fling out of her hands and smack against Andre's chest and roll down back onto the ground beneath them. "Ow!" she exclaimed, looking at the pile of dough mixed in with dirt next to the man. "I hope you plan on purchasing me a new one." Cici stated half sarcastically, but mostly saddened by her loss. She brought her fingers to her mouth rapidly blowing cold air against them.

It had been another good show. Much of the crowd had heard of the earlier show and went with high expectations. They were not disappointed in the least. They had been a good bunch, enthusiastic, laughing at all the right moments. All in all it had been a good enough show for André to almost forget his earlier transgression with Tanner. Almost. “Adieu! Monsieur, Madame!” The puppeteer called as the audience left just as eagerly as they’d come. This group seemed particularly inclined to push and shove. In order to help prevent anyone getting hurt, André slipped down from the stage and encouraged people toward the exit. That was when the misfortune struck.

He felt it before he even knew what had happened. The uncomfortable burning sensation on his right leg. A quick glance down and the puppet master could see a steaming funnel cake smeared on his trousers. André looked at the woman whose lap it had been on during the show and notice she was looking at him. Normally, he would’ve expected an apology of some kind already, but instead this woman offered a rather forceful response. She somehow seemed to think it was his fault he was covered in her sugary pastry. This situation wasn’t the least bit ideal for him either. “M—” His words were cut short as the woman once again flung her food at him. At André to tell off her less-than-etiquette behaviour. Yet, when he saw how genuinely disappointed she looked, he decided to let it pass. Mostly. “Mademoiselle, it is my clothes which need to be renewed.” He said, gently. “Alas, should you like, I’ve mind to get you another.” He paused a moment, “Firstly I should be changing my attire.” This was said more to himself than to the woman.

"Hmm." Cici pondered, her fingers dropping to her side as the heat had dispersed. In agreement with Andre, Cici noted that his clothes were messy. Cici however, had no intention of paying him for anything new. It was hard enough to purchase clothes for herself, let alone a stranger who had spilt her funnel cake. "Well, I'll only let you buy me a new one if you join me in eating it." she offered a warm smile to him, before speaking once more, "Also, if you send me in the right direction to the woman that runs this place after we're done." Priscilla then gave Andre the napkins she had taken from the food booth in hopes that he could get some of the mess off himself. "Don't worry," she started, "It's not to report you or anything." she laughed, throwing her dark curls back behind her shoulder. "I'd actually like to get a job here." she commented, her eyes looking up and down the man as she explained to him vaguely her situation.

André was glad to see the girl appeared to hold no grudge. “I’d be delighted to join you, my dear.” Her smile was returned by him, albeit smaller. “Might one inquire as to what your name is?”

“Thank you.” He said as he took the napkins and used them to try and clean off his shirt. The dark spot was standing out immensely, especially with the sticky syrup giving it a colour against the grey. André had no intention of going out into the masses looking like that. Switching to another shirt briefly wouldn’t take too long.

“You wish to see Madame Sombre?” The puppeteer said words clinging to the slightest of suspicion. When she said she wished to join the Cirque de Noir André shifted his eyes away. He knew she didn’t understand the full implication of what that meant, and he decided he would not be the one to inform her. A part of him very much wished she would go elsewhere, though. “What act is Mademoiselle in?” After her reply he gave a quick “Pardonne-moi” before heading back into his smaller adjoined tent. He had planned to go into the room and quickly change. However, it only took a glance at the thick black cracks edged into Henri’s head for André to be reminded of his other obligation. Finally, André decided he would first go with Priscilla to replace her lost food and then head over to Annaliese. Henri already felt dead inside. It seemed the kinder to wait until André had full time to repair him before tending to him. And with a sorrowful sigh the man left the room.

André returned, garbed in a clean shirt. He had Marie take centre stage and hold the sign, just in case someone decided to enter the tent, and then left the tent along with Priscilla, closing the tent flap on his way out. It wasn’t until the two were at the place which sold sugary delights that André picked up an earlier part of their conversation, actually answering her question. “Madame Sombre might be in her tent, yet one might never be sure. It may be best to seek after the shows have finished. In the meantime, my dear, I’ve another obligation to attend.” At that the puppeteer started in the direction of Annaliese’s tent. “I’d suggest you come to watch a fantastical illusionist in performance, if you’ve yet to see her.”

The side of his mouth visibly twitched in the darkness of the tent, being called a child. Still, the spinning of the lock’s dial in hand didn’t cease as Odd looked about the room, “Oh poo, a hope seller sells his dream to everybody, but tells me--an unfortunate soul, to give up? I do feel special now. But, why, hope is the only evil that stayed when Pandora opened that box…it’s all we have at the end of the day.” Running a tongue over his teeth absently before pushing around the inside of his cheek, thinking for a moment before clicking his teeth…”But what did you expect? Nobody goes into a shoe store to order a ham sandwich, and I wouldn’t come to you—a fortune teller—for anything but my future. Really, it’s rather poor taste to work as a fortune teller if even one future told could ruin things.”

Pacing a little bit about the space, inspecting small bits here and there, the boy eventually stepped up before the fortune teller, let out a sigh, and swatted the proffered hand down and away, “You’re lucky I’m such a effin’ ‘sweetie pie’, otherwise I’d have raised a stink about you having issue performing due to your headache, or whatever the fuck.” Finding a chest to sit on to the side, Otto threw a hand up as if he were asking Caius to raise himself, but by now it was understood that he merely wanted the man to raise his voice up a little due to their new distance. “I’m a Leo, my recent dreams most notably had me without my legs, my favourite color is the sort of patina green that comes from oxidized copper…” Listing off fact after fact that profiles oft asked for, in a rather bored tone, the boy stopped spinning the dial of his combination lock and pulled out more of the same size from his coat pockets. Tossing them up, one after the other, Odd juggled the heavy locks with some difficulty.

"Priscilla Rodriguez."

Cici replied to his question with a grin. There was something about saying your own name that made the tip of your tongue tingle with a sense of accomplishment. "You don't have to tell me your name yet, but it might help." Priscilla teased, watching André blot his clothes with not much progression towards taking the stain out. Priscilla winced slightly, knowing she didn't have the resources to replace his items if he so requested. It didn't seem like that case so far, but she could only hope for the best.

“You wish to see Madame Sombre?” André asked his eye movement and reactions speaking louder than any words. Rather than causing fear, it caused Priscilla to be curious. She was quite the risk taker when it came down to things. “What act is Mademoiselle in?” the man then asked and Cici's eye's widened in excitement, as she began to exclaim her passion, "Sword swallowing! I'm still working on a few things, but I've gotten the basic long sword down to perfection. The two swords is something I'm working on, and I've been dying to try things other than swords..perhaps florescent lights." she rambled on as André excused himself, little to Priscilla's knowledge.

André returned, in a crisp clean shirt. "And that's pretty much why I would never try to swallow someone's arm ever again." Cici finished her long pointless ramble, finally noticing he had changed his shirt. "You look great." Cici nodded with a wink, watching as André carefully set up his tent in case someone happened to stop by. The two began walking, and their conversation sparked up once more. “Madame Sombre might be in her tent, yet one might never be sure. It may be best to seek after the shows have finished. In the meantime, my dear, I’ve another obligation to attend.” he noted, walking towards an area that Priscilla hadn't ventured yet.

“I’d suggest you come to watch a fantastical illusionist in performance, if you’ve yet to see her.” André recommended, and Cici followed closely behind, her teal boots kicking up some of the rocks as she caught up to the man's side. She hadn't seen the show yet, and she would hate to lose her heavy lead to both Madame Sombre and a promise to free funnel cake.