Marguerite held the only notebook that managed to survive the flames. The leather cover was badly charred, and all but the center pages of notes were illegible. A decade of research settled beneath the feet of a scientist in a circus, surrounded by stagehands salvaging what little they could from her incinerated laboratory. Ten years of lost work made Marguerite’s knees weak, and she clutched the notebook until a corner of it crumbled in her grip. She gasped when Marie called to her.
“Ah, Marguerite,” she said, her slight form swaying from beyond the wreckage. Her skirts shined through the smoke and grit still settling in the air. “Asmodeus wants to see you, at his cabin. He sent me to fetch you.” Marie shuffled her feet. Marguerite pocketed the remnant of a notebook while she waited for the girl to finish. “He had his plotting face on.”
Marguerite’s mouth twitched, then worked its way into a tired smile.
“Tell him I’ll be there, so long as he supplies the liquor.”
Marie’s mouth opened, closed, and then contested her feet to see which could squirm more. Meanwhile, Marguerite stepped out of the wreckage.
“Come. Let’s not keep the man waiting.”
Marguerite led the way to Asmodeus’s dwelling, wondering if perhaps she was too rough on the girl bouncing along behind her. The notebook bouncing against her leg drew her thoughts away from etiquette and towards the magician’s boat. Asmodeus and Colette waited for them on the deck. Asmodeus certainly did seem to have his plotting face on, the calculations and maneuvers nearly written on his face while his fingers twitched. Colette was more subdued, though her shoulders were stiff.
Showing posts with label 2: Consorting with the Enemy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2: Consorting with the Enemy. Show all posts
17 July 2010
13 July 2010
Show Time
The way Marie saw it, this couldn't have been just some act of malice. It didn't make sense. Circus folk, in her experience with them, were all untrustworthy freaks, but they were all untrustworthy freaks who looked out for each other and silently agreed to only pick normal people's pockets and not each other's. And acrobats, why, they had to be an especially honorable kind of untrustworthy, catching each other from mid-air as they did. Even if she hadn't spent the previous evening smitten with the acrobat boys, it didn't make sense for them to behave so carelessly.
Therefore, there were two possible explanations. One was that this was some part of the show. the threat of danger, carefully controlled, to give the audience a thrill. Even as she thought it, following Asmodeus and Colette as they walked from a safe, hidden distance, it made sense. The crowds would be simply bubbling. Surely news of the circus was even now crashing across the town in waves - the intrigue! The drama! Already it would be reaching ladies in their parlors, who would send messages to their husbands at work asking for tickets - for which show? They would want to see the whole act, the villains and the heroes in their ongoing combat. They would hover around before the show, hardly able to attend their cotton candy, their attentions taken by the story of the disaster, retold by the side shows in whispers. Alexandra would foretell misfortune in the district housing the Hirondelle, Asmodeus would do little tricks with flames, Marguerite would tell of her heroic rescue of the animals in dramatic, angry tones.
The alternative, which occurred to her as she settled in her spot in the bushes, was that God was punishing them for Marguerite's evil science. God, who in Marie's head had a voice identical to one of the nuns at the St. Adelaide Home for Children, did not like science, Marie had always been told, and surely Marguerite's mad machines counted as those violations against Heaven and Nature which Marie had often heard about. The Hirondelle boys might even be demons. It seemed likely.
She was briefly distracted from this train of thought by Asmodeus announcing that Colette was his wife - Marie had, in her musings, missed the beginning of the story. Determined not to let her mind wander again from information that might clear everything up, she scaled a nearby tree, inching onto the branch - a difficult task, wearing so many more clothes than usual.
It was unnerving to see Colette so upset. Not an act, then, or else a particularly good one. Marie shuddered and made a mental note to ask Alexandra about demons later.
At that moment, the branch broke, and Marie tumbled out, landing rather awkwardly on her back. She scrambled to her feet, with an extraordinary lack of grace for someone accustomed to flying through the sky.
"Ah, Mary, you're just who I wanted to see," said Asmodeus, which made Marie's cheeks burn redder - she suspected the magician had known she was there for some time. "If you'd go find Marguerite, and ask if she'd come see me."
Marie's eyes widened. Having decided that Marguerite's experiments were the cause of the whole fiasco, she was in no hurry to be anywhere near the scientist. Still, she nodded and slipped off without a word, back to the center of the circus. The smoke had mostly gone, leaving a vaguely burnt smell and the very wet remains of Marguerite's balloon. The scientist was there, with a few of the stage hands, scavenging things from the mini-laboratory. Marguerite held a notebook, taking stock of what was left.
"Ah, Marguerite," Marie said, from a fair distance away, though mostly because the wreckage was both rather foreboding and surrounded by busy-looking people who seemed to not want to be interrupted. "Asmodeus wants to see you, at his cabin. He sent me to fetch you." She hesitated, shuffling awkwardly - Marguerite looked exhausted when she looked up from her work, and Marie suddenly felt a bit bad for assuming divine retribution - then added, to best convey the seriousness of the situation: "He had his plotting face on."
Therefore, there were two possible explanations. One was that this was some part of the show. the threat of danger, carefully controlled, to give the audience a thrill. Even as she thought it, following Asmodeus and Colette as they walked from a safe, hidden distance, it made sense. The crowds would be simply bubbling. Surely news of the circus was even now crashing across the town in waves - the intrigue! The drama! Already it would be reaching ladies in their parlors, who would send messages to their husbands at work asking for tickets - for which show? They would want to see the whole act, the villains and the heroes in their ongoing combat. They would hover around before the show, hardly able to attend their cotton candy, their attentions taken by the story of the disaster, retold by the side shows in whispers. Alexandra would foretell misfortune in the district housing the Hirondelle, Asmodeus would do little tricks with flames, Marguerite would tell of her heroic rescue of the animals in dramatic, angry tones.
The alternative, which occurred to her as she settled in her spot in the bushes, was that God was punishing them for Marguerite's evil science. God, who in Marie's head had a voice identical to one of the nuns at the St. Adelaide Home for Children, did not like science, Marie had always been told, and surely Marguerite's mad machines counted as those violations against Heaven and Nature which Marie had often heard about. The Hirondelle boys might even be demons. It seemed likely.
She was briefly distracted from this train of thought by Asmodeus announcing that Colette was his wife - Marie had, in her musings, missed the beginning of the story. Determined not to let her mind wander again from information that might clear everything up, she scaled a nearby tree, inching onto the branch - a difficult task, wearing so many more clothes than usual.
It was unnerving to see Colette so upset. Not an act, then, or else a particularly good one. Marie shuddered and made a mental note to ask Alexandra about demons later.
At that moment, the branch broke, and Marie tumbled out, landing rather awkwardly on her back. She scrambled to her feet, with an extraordinary lack of grace for someone accustomed to flying through the sky.
"Ah, Mary, you're just who I wanted to see," said Asmodeus, which made Marie's cheeks burn redder - she suspected the magician had known she was there for some time. "If you'd go find Marguerite, and ask if she'd come see me."
Marie's eyes widened. Having decided that Marguerite's experiments were the cause of the whole fiasco, she was in no hurry to be anywhere near the scientist. Still, she nodded and slipped off without a word, back to the center of the circus. The smoke had mostly gone, leaving a vaguely burnt smell and the very wet remains of Marguerite's balloon. The scientist was there, with a few of the stage hands, scavenging things from the mini-laboratory. Marguerite held a notebook, taking stock of what was left.
"Ah, Marguerite," Marie said, from a fair distance away, though mostly because the wreckage was both rather foreboding and surrounded by busy-looking people who seemed to not want to be interrupted. "Asmodeus wants to see you, at his cabin. He sent me to fetch you." She hesitated, shuffling awkwardly - Marguerite looked exhausted when she looked up from her work, and Marie suddenly felt a bit bad for assuming divine retribution - then added, to best convey the seriousness of the situation: "He had his plotting face on."
Reassuring words
Asmodeus drew a rag from his back pocket, trying desperately to wipe the soot from his hands. He looked down at his white shirt, now marked and scarred by the flames and ashes, and shuddered as a feeling of rage coursed through his body. Colette’s speech did nothing to quell his temper; this was an open act of aggression, and Asmodeus was known to hold a grudge. In his present state of mind, the notion of stalking over to Hirondelle and murdering those pernicious acrobats was a rather tantalizing one. Could pass it off as a new act; maybe get some money to replace my shirt.
He was fully engrossed in his private schemes when he heard Colette’s thunderous voice call him over. Like a spark igniting tinder, Asmodeus’ anger flared, threatening to engulf his senses. S'bout time! I bet Colette’s rounding up a gang to go repay the sparrows for their gesture. In a fury, Asmodeus stormed over to the ringmaster.
"Asmodeus..." She spoke quieter now, a bit of her bravado fading. "I'm not sure that I can do it." She crossed her arms more tightly, feeling a chill even in the warm, acrid-scented air. "I don't know how to win against a man who fights so unfairly."
As quickly as it rose, Asmodeus’ ire ebbed and drained away. He had never seen Colette like this, and it shook him to his core. She spent all her time showing how strong and resilient she was that he often forgot she had other facets. His features softened, and his voice lost its edge. “I suppose Alexandra’s cards told you who’s responsible for this?” Colette simply nodded. “Take a walk with me, dear. It really is a fine afternoon.” Putting his hand on her shoulder, the two slowly made their way out of the encampment and towards a stand of tall trees, trailed by a shadowed figure flitting behind tents and bushes.
Tall oaks stretched forth their boughs above the pair, creating a vaulted ceiling of all the shades of green, the sunlight filtering down to touch the low shrubs flanking the dusty path. A faint breeze swept the treetops and the soft rustling of the leaves masked the noises of the camp’s cleanup, allowing Colette to temporarily forget the afternoon’s events. Asmodeus observed her serene aspect out of the corner of his eyes, and spoke. “Colette, do you remember when you first found me, two years ago in Vincennes? I seem to remember having found myself one too many companions that evening, several of whom were spoken for. You recognized me from my show and, cool as an autumn breeze, sauntered over and posed as my wife, scolding me the whole way out the door. That’s just who you are.” Colette cocked an eyebrow, and gave him an unsettled look. Somewhere close by, a bush gasped. Asmodeus quickly stammered, “Well, not my wife, of course, but the one who takes action, who always has a plan, and a good one at that.”
“But Jacque is ruthless! He has no compassion, no mercy! How am I to compete with such a cruel opponent?”
“It’s like you say. ‘The show must go on’. We need to beat Hirondelle on its own ground; under the tent. We’ll hit him where he’s most vulnerable; his pride.” Asmodeus stepped forward, and gave Colette a warm embrace. “And Jacque may rule by fear, but you have the love and respect of the whole crew.” Stepping back, he added, “I apologize for my actions in the opium den. Something about magicians; we always want to make people disappear.”
“You don’t need to apologize. You only had our interests at heart.”
Asmodeus cast her a reassuring smile. “Carry on as usual tonight, and leave the Hirondelle to me. I won’t let you down.”
Mary had been trying to work her way closer to the pair throughout the whole conversation, and had found an overhanging branch on which to hide directly above the clearing. As she inched her way further along, eager to hear them better, the bough gave way. With a startled shriek, a red-faced Mary came crashing down in a cloud of dirt of leaves next to Asmodeus. He turned towards her, having wondered when she would appear. “Ah, Mary, you’re just who I wanted to see. If you’d go find Marguerite, and ask if she’d come see me. Then the two of you meet me in my cabin.” He reached out to tousle the young girl’s hair, and then said to Colette, “Let’s see to our family, shall we?”
He was fully engrossed in his private schemes when he heard Colette’s thunderous voice call him over. Like a spark igniting tinder, Asmodeus’ anger flared, threatening to engulf his senses. S'bout time! I bet Colette’s rounding up a gang to go repay the sparrows for their gesture. In a fury, Asmodeus stormed over to the ringmaster.
"Asmodeus..." She spoke quieter now, a bit of her bravado fading. "I'm not sure that I can do it." She crossed her arms more tightly, feeling a chill even in the warm, acrid-scented air. "I don't know how to win against a man who fights so unfairly."
As quickly as it rose, Asmodeus’ ire ebbed and drained away. He had never seen Colette like this, and it shook him to his core. She spent all her time showing how strong and resilient she was that he often forgot she had other facets. His features softened, and his voice lost its edge. “I suppose Alexandra’s cards told you who’s responsible for this?” Colette simply nodded. “Take a walk with me, dear. It really is a fine afternoon.” Putting his hand on her shoulder, the two slowly made their way out of the encampment and towards a stand of tall trees, trailed by a shadowed figure flitting behind tents and bushes.
Tall oaks stretched forth their boughs above the pair, creating a vaulted ceiling of all the shades of green, the sunlight filtering down to touch the low shrubs flanking the dusty path. A faint breeze swept the treetops and the soft rustling of the leaves masked the noises of the camp’s cleanup, allowing Colette to temporarily forget the afternoon’s events. Asmodeus observed her serene aspect out of the corner of his eyes, and spoke. “Colette, do you remember when you first found me, two years ago in Vincennes? I seem to remember having found myself one too many companions that evening, several of whom were spoken for. You recognized me from my show and, cool as an autumn breeze, sauntered over and posed as my wife, scolding me the whole way out the door. That’s just who you are.” Colette cocked an eyebrow, and gave him an unsettled look. Somewhere close by, a bush gasped. Asmodeus quickly stammered, “Well, not my wife, of course, but the one who takes action, who always has a plan, and a good one at that.”
“But Jacque is ruthless! He has no compassion, no mercy! How am I to compete with such a cruel opponent?”
“It’s like you say. ‘The show must go on’. We need to beat Hirondelle on its own ground; under the tent. We’ll hit him where he’s most vulnerable; his pride.” Asmodeus stepped forward, and gave Colette a warm embrace. “And Jacque may rule by fear, but you have the love and respect of the whole crew.” Stepping back, he added, “I apologize for my actions in the opium den. Something about magicians; we always want to make people disappear.”
“You don’t need to apologize. You only had our interests at heart.”
Asmodeus cast her a reassuring smile. “Carry on as usual tonight, and leave the Hirondelle to me. I won’t let you down.”
Mary had been trying to work her way closer to the pair throughout the whole conversation, and had found an overhanging branch on which to hide directly above the clearing. As she inched her way further along, eager to hear them better, the bough gave way. With a startled shriek, a red-faced Mary came crashing down in a cloud of dirt of leaves next to Asmodeus. He turned towards her, having wondered when she would appear. “Ah, Mary, you’re just who I wanted to see. If you’d go find Marguerite, and ask if she’d come see me. Then the two of you meet me in my cabin.” He reached out to tousle the young girl’s hair, and then said to Colette, “Let’s see to our family, shall we?”
03 July 2010
Sewing Musings
Alexandra slowly wound her way through the slowly dispersing crowd back to her ship. The balloon that guided her vessel floated in the sky: heavy blue fabric covered in patches of silver and gold shaped like stars. Symbols from the zodiac spiraled their way around the balloon, matching the fortune teller’s ship which was also covered in stars, moons and mystical symbols.
The fortune teller pushed the door open and brushed past the ribbons that were draped from the lintel within the threshold. Unhooking her scarf draped belt, unlacing draped cuffs from around her biceps and shrugging off her short jacket, Alexandra hung them on an old carved coat rack. She unlaced her waist cinch with a sigh and tossed it onto a side table before flopping into a large, overstuffed armchair.
“What a terrible day,” Alexandra murmured to herself, “but at least Marguerite didn’t loose all of her clothes.” She leaned over the side of the armchair and hauled a large basket of clothing needing mending into her lap. After a few minutes of digging around, the fortune teller pulled out a moderately chewed on spare lab coat, a set of too long full black pants, a riding skirt in need of patching and a bodice missing buttons. Slowly, she fished out her sewing bag and fabric scraps and began to repair her friend’s clothing.
Alexandra finished her sewing just as the sun slipped beneath the horizon and the lanterns suspended from the ceiling were the only source of light inside the ship. She carefully folded Marguerite’s clothing and set them aside. A bright shimmer of fabric caught Alexandra’s eye in the scrap pile and she pulled out a long swath of gold brocade. In her mind she could see the how perfectly the textured fabric would match a certain purple snakeskin tailcoat, especially as a full cravat secured by a delicate onyx and gold pin.
The fortune teller began to carefully shape and fold the cloth; her needle flickering in and out of the fabric. Alexandra hummed softly to herself as she bound her creation together with shimmering purple thread. When her project was finally complete, she straightened up in her chair, working out the kinks in her back. Carefully, Alexandra folded the gold and purple cravat and wrapped a silver ribbon around it to keep the folds in place. She slowly rose from her chair, opened up a small box in her closet and placed the newly made cravat inside it, next to a pair of black satin gloves trimmed in gold and a handkerchief embroidered with an elaborate A.
Alexandra sighed to herself as she replaced the box back on a shelf in her closet. “Another present that I will never work up the courage to give to that magician,” she murmured to herself. Closing the closet door, Alexandra drew the curtains and began to put her costume on for the evening show. Despite the explosions, she knew Colette wouldn't cancel tonight's performance. Especially as the ringmaster was famous for saying "the show must go on."
The fortune teller pushed the door open and brushed past the ribbons that were draped from the lintel within the threshold. Unhooking her scarf draped belt, unlacing draped cuffs from around her biceps and shrugging off her short jacket, Alexandra hung them on an old carved coat rack. She unlaced her waist cinch with a sigh and tossed it onto a side table before flopping into a large, overstuffed armchair.
“What a terrible day,” Alexandra murmured to herself, “but at least Marguerite didn’t loose all of her clothes.” She leaned over the side of the armchair and hauled a large basket of clothing needing mending into her lap. After a few minutes of digging around, the fortune teller pulled out a moderately chewed on spare lab coat, a set of too long full black pants, a riding skirt in need of patching and a bodice missing buttons. Slowly, she fished out her sewing bag and fabric scraps and began to repair her friend’s clothing.
Alexandra finished her sewing just as the sun slipped beneath the horizon and the lanterns suspended from the ceiling were the only source of light inside the ship. She carefully folded Marguerite’s clothing and set them aside. A bright shimmer of fabric caught Alexandra’s eye in the scrap pile and she pulled out a long swath of gold brocade. In her mind she could see the how perfectly the textured fabric would match a certain purple snakeskin tailcoat, especially as a full cravat secured by a delicate onyx and gold pin.
The fortune teller began to carefully shape and fold the cloth; her needle flickering in and out of the fabric. Alexandra hummed softly to herself as she bound her creation together with shimmering purple thread. When her project was finally complete, she straightened up in her chair, working out the kinks in her back. Carefully, Alexandra folded the gold and purple cravat and wrapped a silver ribbon around it to keep the folds in place. She slowly rose from her chair, opened up a small box in her closet and placed the newly made cravat inside it, next to a pair of black satin gloves trimmed in gold and a handkerchief embroidered with an elaborate A.
Alexandra sighed to herself as she replaced the box back on a shelf in her closet. “Another present that I will never work up the courage to give to that magician,” she murmured to herself. Closing the closet door, Alexandra drew the curtains and began to put her costume on for the evening show. Despite the explosions, she knew Colette wouldn't cancel tonight's performance. Especially as the ringmaster was famous for saying "the show must go on."
29 June 2010
Sneaky Sneaky
Marie had raced to help as the fire had raged, getting buckets and taking a spot at the end of the line filling them from the camp's water pump. But as soon as she was no longer needed, the burned balloon having been reduced to a charred, soggy pile, she slipped away.
Her beautiful favorite skirt was waterlogged and muddy, and she longed to just strip it off and run around in her bloomers, but there were interesting things afoot and no time to go get cleaned up. She saw Alexandra sweep up her cards, wishing she could hear what they'd said; When Colette announced it to the group, Marie gasped. She was hardly naive enough to be surprised at sabotage, but she'd have preferred friendly competition with the cute acrobats, rather than fiery destruction. She mostly ignored the rest of Colette's speech, knotting her damp skirt up around her knees as checking to see that the knife she wore tucked in her garter was still there when the ringmaster mentioned not going out unarmed.
By the time she'd accomplished this, Colette had finished addressing the circus and was speaking to Asmondeus, close enough for Marie to eavesdrop, bringing her attention back immediately as she listened.
Her beautiful favorite skirt was waterlogged and muddy, and she longed to just strip it off and run around in her bloomers, but there were interesting things afoot and no time to go get cleaned up. She saw Alexandra sweep up her cards, wishing she could hear what they'd said; When Colette announced it to the group, Marie gasped. She was hardly naive enough to be surprised at sabotage, but she'd have preferred friendly competition with the cute acrobats, rather than fiery destruction. She mostly ignored the rest of Colette's speech, knotting her damp skirt up around her knees as checking to see that the knife she wore tucked in her garter was still there when the ringmaster mentioned not going out unarmed.
By the time she'd accomplished this, Colette had finished addressing the circus and was speaking to Asmondeus, close enough for Marie to eavesdrop, bringing her attention back immediately as she listened.
24 June 2010
Consorting with the Enemy
The flames had flickered out, and the column of thick smoke was beginning to thin. Colette turned, feeling flecks of ash dot her arms like warm snowflakes. Her crew and family were bustling around, and already the damage was being slowly cleaned up. That whole ship was a wreckage, but a few items here and there poked through the ash and rubble. "Can anything be saved? Anything?" She bit her lip, hands itching to wrap around her whip and find the twins, give them a sound lashing.
Colette touched Alexandra's shoulder lightly before heading over to the bucket crew and addressing the small worried-looking gathering. "My friends," she began, "This was no accident. However, we shall not leave Orleans ahead of schedule. The Hirondelle is a pest, that is all. The other night, some members of our crew encountered some members of theirs, and certain words were exchanged. Today, we see the result of my--and I take full responsibility--indiscretion." Colette cast a glance at Asmodeous, and she paused at his meaningful, yet silent expression. "Our family is stronger in our own camp, when we can support each other. One man alone is too easily silenced. Please... be careful. Don't venture out alone or unarmed." Colette frowned, not knowing how much to say. "I know the man responsible for la Hirondelle and he is ruthless. He abides by no code of honour." She swallowed. "We have to beat him at his own game. And that means in the rings. Not out here, not like this. Tonight, we'll put on a show la Hirondelle could never hope to rival." Unable to think of a dignified way to end her impromptu speech, she let her hands drop, and added. "Someone establish a guard rotation to secure the camp perimeter. Check in with me when it's finalized." Stepping away from the little crowd, she motioned to the man who had first worked to stifle the flames.
"Asmodeus! A word, if you will." The magician had smears of black ash on his fingers and cheeks, and he looked less placated by her words than most of the crew. "Asmodeus..." She spoke quieter now, a bit of her bravado fading. "I'm not sure that I can do it." She crossed her arms more tightly, feeling a chill even in the warm, acrid-scented air. "I don't know how to win against a man who fights so unfairly."
Colette touched Alexandra's shoulder lightly before heading over to the bucket crew and addressing the small worried-looking gathering. "My friends," she began, "This was no accident. However, we shall not leave Orleans ahead of schedule. The Hirondelle is a pest, that is all. The other night, some members of our crew encountered some members of theirs, and certain words were exchanged. Today, we see the result of my--and I take full responsibility--indiscretion." Colette cast a glance at Asmodeous, and she paused at his meaningful, yet silent expression. "Our family is stronger in our own camp, when we can support each other. One man alone is too easily silenced. Please... be careful. Don't venture out alone or unarmed." Colette frowned, not knowing how much to say. "I know the man responsible for la Hirondelle and he is ruthless. He abides by no code of honour." She swallowed. "We have to beat him at his own game. And that means in the rings. Not out here, not like this. Tonight, we'll put on a show la Hirondelle could never hope to rival." Unable to think of a dignified way to end her impromptu speech, she let her hands drop, and added. "Someone establish a guard rotation to secure the camp perimeter. Check in with me when it's finalized." Stepping away from the little crowd, she motioned to the man who had first worked to stifle the flames.
"Asmodeus! A word, if you will." The magician had smears of black ash on his fingers and cheeks, and he looked less placated by her words than most of the crew. "Asmodeus..." She spoke quieter now, a bit of her bravado fading. "I'm not sure that I can do it." She crossed her arms more tightly, feeling a chill even in the warm, acrid-scented air. "I don't know how to win against a man who fights so unfairly."
Boom
The sun was shining through the open windows of the magician’s cabin, resting amidst the swaying grasses of the field in which la Vapeur had anchored. It was shaped as a sailing ship of old, with a fanciful, and quite anatomically accurate, representation of a mermaid heading the prow. Masts were replaced by metal smokestacks, and the rigging led to the large black balloon shifting lazily in the breeze above. There were carved wooden railings along the length of the deck, leading to the stern cabin, the captain’s quarters, with paned windows edged in gilt-worked metal. Asmodeus had established this room as his bedroom. Presently, he was hunched over a worktable bolted to the center of the cabin, preparing for the night’s performance. He was clad in his waistcoat and wingtip-collared shirt, the sleeves of which he had rolled up to avoid any unnecessary staining. His performing coat was draped casually across the back of his armchair. In his hands were pliers and a probe, and his face twisted with concentration as he gazed through his loupe, his hands moving with deft precision as he tightened bolts and tested springs. The task seemed more difficult this day, as his thoughts continually strayed to the night before. So there’s another circus what set down ‘ere, he mused. Nothin’ like this’d ever happen back home. Anyone tried pinching customers, the boys’d go rough ‘em a bit. Actually, s’not so bad an idea.
With a grin, Asmodeus conjured the image of his knife protruding from the chest of that insolent bird of a man. To think that someone would have the gall to dress so tacky, upset a fellow performer, and prematurely end Asmodeus’ delightful evening with Alexandra was wholly bewildering; especially the social interruption part. Asmodeus felt he was really getting somewhere with her that evening.
It was in the middle of this combined tinkering and daydreaming that an acrid smell assaulted Asmodeus’ nostrils. It was not any of his chemicals; certainly was not the grease. A tendril of light, wispy smoke had begun to curl its way through his open casement. Tearing the lenses from his face, he jumped from his chair and dashed to the window, in time to see two familiar figures slinking away from Marguerite’s balloon as fast as possible. There was, however, no time to pursue his initial, violent train of thought, for he could see that Marguerite’s balloon had caught fire, and the cabin was quickly becoming engulfed in flames. Taking the stairs to the main deck three at a time, Asmodeus swung down from his ship and hit the ground in a flat-out run. Seeing other members of the crew coming to investigate, Asmoudeus shouted to them. “Marie, go fetch the buckets. You there, form a line.” He would have to report what he saw to Colette, but he hoped she would uphold the old ways of dealing with messengers.
With a grin, Asmodeus conjured the image of his knife protruding from the chest of that insolent bird of a man. To think that someone would have the gall to dress so tacky, upset a fellow performer, and prematurely end Asmodeus’ delightful evening with Alexandra was wholly bewildering; especially the social interruption part. Asmodeus felt he was really getting somewhere with her that evening.
It was in the middle of this combined tinkering and daydreaming that an acrid smell assaulted Asmodeus’ nostrils. It was not any of his chemicals; certainly was not the grease. A tendril of light, wispy smoke had begun to curl its way through his open casement. Tearing the lenses from his face, he jumped from his chair and dashed to the window, in time to see two familiar figures slinking away from Marguerite’s balloon as fast as possible. There was, however, no time to pursue his initial, violent train of thought, for he could see that Marguerite’s balloon had caught fire, and the cabin was quickly becoming engulfed in flames. Taking the stairs to the main deck three at a time, Asmodeus swung down from his ship and hit the ground in a flat-out run. Seeing other members of the crew coming to investigate, Asmoudeus shouted to them. “Marie, go fetch the buckets. You there, form a line.” He would have to report what he saw to Colette, but he hoped she would uphold the old ways of dealing with messengers.
20 June 2010
Consorting with the Enemy: Revenge
Colette softened immediately, reaching out to touch the fortune teller's arm with gratitude. "Alexandra, I thank you. I..." She let out a shaky breath. "I think I may have made a mistake today. In seeing the Hirondelle perform, I left my own family unprotected." She shook her head. "I don't even know if what I found out was worth it."
She stepped away, crossing her arms. "The damage. We're lucky it was only the one ship--though there's no telling how many of Marguerite's little beasts were harmed." She frowned unhappily, feeling the weight of the ship's destruction heavy on her shoulders. If only she had been here to stop the twins. Sneaky, devious bastards. She wouldn't be surprised if they were acting on orders of the Hirondelle's ringmaster. He was a vindictive man, quick to anger and even quicker to vengeance.
She turned to the seer again, feeling at a loss. "Can you do a reading for me? I have some questions that have been unanswered for far too long." Her heart was leaping in her chest, and she rubbed her palms over her bare, jacketless arms, feeling bare without her flashy costume. She had faith in the cards, if not in herself.
She stepped away, crossing her arms. "The damage. We're lucky it was only the one ship--though there's no telling how many of Marguerite's little beasts were harmed." She frowned unhappily, feeling the weight of the ship's destruction heavy on her shoulders. If only she had been here to stop the twins. Sneaky, devious bastards. She wouldn't be surprised if they were acting on orders of the Hirondelle's ringmaster. He was a vindictive man, quick to anger and even quicker to vengeance.
She turned to the seer again, feeling at a loss. "Can you do a reading for me? I have some questions that have been unanswered for far too long." Her heart was leaping in her chest, and she rubbed her palms over her bare, jacketless arms, feeling bare without her flashy costume. She had faith in the cards, if not in herself.
Consorting with the Enemy: Destruction
The smell of smoke slowly crept into the elaborate blue and silver tent to mingle with the sweet incense that was burning there. Alexandra looked up from boiling a kettle of water on a small stove that she used to make tea for the next client who wanted their future read in tea leaves. She paused, lifting her head in curiosity at the strange smell and pulling back the curtain to peer out at the rest of the circus. When Alexandra saw the smoke she leapt out of her chair, almost overturning the table, and raced to the balloon that was in flames.
"Marguerite!" Alexandra cried when she saw her friend covered in soot and staggering away from the burning balloon, "Marguerite, are you all right?""No," she said. "I hope the animals are, though.""Where are-" Alexandra had placed a hand on Marguerite's arm, near the pocket with the lions, who had begun to poke their heads out the corners. "Oh, oh my. Did you get them all?"
"I think so." Marguerite tugged on the pocket cover, pushing the lion's noses back into the pocket. "Find me somewhere to put them, please. I am afraid some of them may hurt each other, or themselves, if they stay in here too long."
The fortune teller helped Marguerite slowly rise to her feet and lead her friend to the storage vessel and found a bunch of old lidded baskets and boxes to hold the animals. When they had safely rescued the last one out of the pockets of the lab coat, Alexandra handed her friend one of the many scarves attached to her person. As Marguerite used it to wipe the sweat out of her eyes and the soot and ash off her face, “What happened?” Alexandra asked as she watched the smoke continue to rise from the wreckage.
“I don’t know. I was inside my room taking care of the animals but they were restless and hard to handle. Then the room shook and the ceiling caught fire and all I was concerned about was saving all the animals.” Marguerite sank slowly onto a heavy crate.
Alexandra placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “Rest here for a moment and then make yourself at home in my ship. Also, I have a kettle of freshly boiled water in my fortune telling tent if you would like to make tea; your favorite is in the light green canister on the second shelf.” Her blue eyes took on a steely glint, “I’m going to go find out who did this.”
With one last squeeze to her friend’s shoulder, Alexandra turned and headed back towards the wreckage. The fire was under control but Marguerite’s room and balloon had been reduced to smoldering wreckage. She saw Asmodeus and Marie in a chain of circus workers passing buckets to put out the last embers of the fire. The rest of the circus crew was checking the nearby balloons that had been singed and were making sure sparks hadn’t spread to any other vessels.
Alexandra walked to a clearing a short distance away from Marguerite’s ship and crouched in the grass. She spread out one of her scarves onto the ground and pulled from within her dress a piquet deck, a stack of 32 handmade cards that she used in fortune telling, encased in a velvet bag. After shuffling the deck, Alexandra laid out five cards, one in each cardinal direction and one card in the center. She slowly flipped them over going counter clockwise: a reversed knave of diamonds, a seven of spades, a reversed king of spades, a nine of spades and finally an ace of spades. Alexandra frowned; the appearance of so many spades was an ill omen. The message she read from the spread of cards was not a good one, either. It spoke of a quarrel with two men of evil intentions, destruction, sabotage and an old rivalry.
Alexandra frowned; if she interpreted the cards properly then the destruction of Marguerite’s room was deliberately sabotaged by a pair of twins who not only had their own motivations but also a greater approval. She could think of only one such pair that wanted revenge on the Cirque de la Vapeur, especially after Asmodeus’ confrontation and foolish threats to them.
With a quick motion, Alexandra quickly swept up the cards that she had placed on the scarf and made her way to where Colette was directing the cleanup of the wreckage. She touched the ringmaster’s shoulder and drew her aside. “Colette, my cards tell me that the twins from the Cirque de la Hirondelle are the ones responsible for this.”
Alexandra knew that some did not believe in the power of the cards but she found them reliable for divinations of the past and present; although the future was too variable for the cards to chart accurately.
Colette, however, had always trusted her readings and her eyes widened with anger at the news. “They would dare come within our camp and try to harm a member of our family! They will pay for this!”
The fortune teller took a step back at the venom in her friend’s voice. Alexandra had seen her like this before and knew that things were not going to end well tonight.
"Marguerite!" Alexandra cried when she saw her friend covered in soot and staggering away from the burning balloon, "Marguerite, are you all right?""No," she said. "I hope the animals are, though.""Where are-" Alexandra had placed a hand on Marguerite's arm, near the pocket with the lions, who had begun to poke their heads out the corners. "Oh, oh my. Did you get them all?"
"I think so." Marguerite tugged on the pocket cover, pushing the lion's noses back into the pocket. "Find me somewhere to put them, please. I am afraid some of them may hurt each other, or themselves, if they stay in here too long."
The fortune teller helped Marguerite slowly rise to her feet and lead her friend to the storage vessel and found a bunch of old lidded baskets and boxes to hold the animals. When they had safely rescued the last one out of the pockets of the lab coat, Alexandra handed her friend one of the many scarves attached to her person. As Marguerite used it to wipe the sweat out of her eyes and the soot and ash off her face, “What happened?” Alexandra asked as she watched the smoke continue to rise from the wreckage.
“I don’t know. I was inside my room taking care of the animals but they were restless and hard to handle. Then the room shook and the ceiling caught fire and all I was concerned about was saving all the animals.” Marguerite sank slowly onto a heavy crate.
Alexandra placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “Rest here for a moment and then make yourself at home in my ship. Also, I have a kettle of freshly boiled water in my fortune telling tent if you would like to make tea; your favorite is in the light green canister on the second shelf.” Her blue eyes took on a steely glint, “I’m going to go find out who did this.”
With one last squeeze to her friend’s shoulder, Alexandra turned and headed back towards the wreckage. The fire was under control but Marguerite’s room and balloon had been reduced to smoldering wreckage. She saw Asmodeus and Marie in a chain of circus workers passing buckets to put out the last embers of the fire. The rest of the circus crew was checking the nearby balloons that had been singed and were making sure sparks hadn’t spread to any other vessels.
Alexandra walked to a clearing a short distance away from Marguerite’s ship and crouched in the grass. She spread out one of her scarves onto the ground and pulled from within her dress a piquet deck, a stack of 32 handmade cards that she used in fortune telling, encased in a velvet bag. After shuffling the deck, Alexandra laid out five cards, one in each cardinal direction and one card in the center. She slowly flipped them over going counter clockwise: a reversed knave of diamonds, a seven of spades, a reversed king of spades, a nine of spades and finally an ace of spades. Alexandra frowned; the appearance of so many spades was an ill omen. The message she read from the spread of cards was not a good one, either. It spoke of a quarrel with two men of evil intentions, destruction, sabotage and an old rivalry.
Alexandra frowned; if she interpreted the cards properly then the destruction of Marguerite’s room was deliberately sabotaged by a pair of twins who not only had their own motivations but also a greater approval. She could think of only one such pair that wanted revenge on the Cirque de la Vapeur, especially after Asmodeus’ confrontation and foolish threats to them.
With a quick motion, Alexandra quickly swept up the cards that she had placed on the scarf and made her way to where Colette was directing the cleanup of the wreckage. She touched the ringmaster’s shoulder and drew her aside. “Colette, my cards tell me that the twins from the Cirque de la Hirondelle are the ones responsible for this.”
Alexandra knew that some did not believe in the power of the cards but she found them reliable for divinations of the past and present; although the future was too variable for the cards to chart accurately.
Colette, however, had always trusted her readings and her eyes widened with anger at the news. “They would dare come within our camp and try to harm a member of our family! They will pay for this!”
The fortune teller took a step back at the venom in her friend’s voice. Alexandra had seen her like this before and knew that things were not going to end well tonight.
18 June 2010
Boom
Marguerite was in her room. Granted, the room was more of a traveling box, suspended from one of the slew of air balloons the circus used to travel. The front of her room was covered by a curtain which she dropped for the sideshow, with drop-down steps leading to the ground and a small gathering area in which she could entertain passersby with her menagerie.
The animals were restless this afternoon.
They must sense my agitation from last night, Marguerite thought. She tended to each chamber, outfitted with cloth and watering bowls, and occasionally a small bit of greenery. Though she would have liked to imitate natural settings for her displays, the plant life did not fare very well to life in the cabins, which varied altitude, temperature, and humidity too often to cater to anything but the most resilient of plants, and even then the animals did not always get along with those plants. So, she decorated each animal's cage much like a person's room, with small pillows and sheets of cloth that she purchased as scraps from tailors and accepted as gifts from Alexandra. It made for pleasant looking living, and the animals seemed content enough.
While replacing the water of the two tigers, one of the felines snarled and scratched Marguerite's fingers. She removed her hand, closing the cage door with haste while the cats swung their tails and sat back on their haunches, continuing to snarl. The elephant let out a cry as well, and the rest of the animals echoed the chorus of alarm.
Then she heard thunder. A loud crack, like a whip of air, followed by an incredible jerk of the whole cabin sent Marguerite to the ground. The ceiling burst into flames, and Marguerite could smell that some of her hair was singed. Recovering, Marguerite opened her pockets with one hand as fast as her fingers could manage, while the other began opening cages and removing the animals. She drew her goggles over her eyes and snatched the elephant, stuffing it into its usual pocket. She scanned the rest of the cages. Could she fit all of them in her coat? In another pocket, she placed the two horses, pulling a handkerchief between them, hoping they wouldn't break each others' legs. The tigers bit and clawed with greater fervor, but Marguerite gritted her teeth and placed each one into two other pockets. The heat from overhead grew in intensity, and the cabin shook again.
It must have lowered enough to unbalance the supports, she thought. She reached into her belt pockets and started emptying them, knowing that those contents were replaceable. Into each leather pouch she placed a monkey, followed by the rhinoceros. She patted each pocket, checking for more free ones, and decided to place the two lions into a pocket together on her arm. The bears were shivering when she picked them up, and she dropped them together into her hip pocket. Marguerite's fingers and wrist suffered a bit of damage from claws, teeth, and tusks, but she retrieved every last animal and stored it in her now crowded lab coat, the pockets bulging with miniaturized life. The cabin walls were charred, and it was becoming difficult to breathe. Marguerite heard shouting from outside, and she dashed toward the noise, covering her face with her arm to block as much of the flames eating her curtains as possible.
She burst into the daylight, coughing and hoping her feet would keep her steady until she cleared the pyre lit behind her. The circus troupe was frantic, searching for sources of water, clearing the rest of the balloons away from hers with haste. Most were scorched, and some had sparks dancing across their surfaces, threatening to penetrate the balloon's surface and ignite the contents. The animals wriggled about her body, and Marguerite could hardly tell if she was shaking or they were. She lifted her goggles from her eyes, which hurt. She had burn marks from the metal of the goggles heating and sticking to her face.
The regular animal trainers were dashing across the center field, gathering the animals into the tent in case the stables caught fire as well. Several of the horses nearly bolted, but the handlers blindfolded them fast enough to draw them back to the tent. A pillar of smoke snaked its way from Marguerite's former balloon, and she wondered how many of her notes she could remember, wishing for the first of what would be thousands of times that she had made them in duplicate.
A ring of street observers was beginning to form. They were a strangely calm frame to the panic within their circle. Marguerite wondered if this was what it was like to perform under the Big Tent, and if so, she did not want to be part of it.
"Marguerite!" Alexandra cried, "Marguerite, are you all right?"
"No," she said. "I hope the animals are, though."
"Where are-" Alexandra had placed a hand on Marguerite's arm, near the pocket with the lions, who had begun to poke their heads out the corners. "Oh, oh my. Did you get them all?"
"I think so." Marguerite tugged on the pocket cover, pushing the lion's noses back into the pocket. "Find me somewhere to put them, please. I am afraid some of them may hurt each other, or themselves, if they stay in here too long."
Alexandra helped Marguerite to her feet, and Marguerite noted with interest that she had not realized when she had fallen to her knees. Halfway across the circle of quickly shifting balloons, Marguerite saw Marie running toward them with Colette shortly behind her. Asmodeus was also in sight, his usual overcoat cast aside.
The animals were restless this afternoon.
They must sense my agitation from last night, Marguerite thought. She tended to each chamber, outfitted with cloth and watering bowls, and occasionally a small bit of greenery. Though she would have liked to imitate natural settings for her displays, the plant life did not fare very well to life in the cabins, which varied altitude, temperature, and humidity too often to cater to anything but the most resilient of plants, and even then the animals did not always get along with those plants. So, she decorated each animal's cage much like a person's room, with small pillows and sheets of cloth that she purchased as scraps from tailors and accepted as gifts from Alexandra. It made for pleasant looking living, and the animals seemed content enough.
While replacing the water of the two tigers, one of the felines snarled and scratched Marguerite's fingers. She removed her hand, closing the cage door with haste while the cats swung their tails and sat back on their haunches, continuing to snarl. The elephant let out a cry as well, and the rest of the animals echoed the chorus of alarm.
Then she heard thunder. A loud crack, like a whip of air, followed by an incredible jerk of the whole cabin sent Marguerite to the ground. The ceiling burst into flames, and Marguerite could smell that some of her hair was singed. Recovering, Marguerite opened her pockets with one hand as fast as her fingers could manage, while the other began opening cages and removing the animals. She drew her goggles over her eyes and snatched the elephant, stuffing it into its usual pocket. She scanned the rest of the cages. Could she fit all of them in her coat? In another pocket, she placed the two horses, pulling a handkerchief between them, hoping they wouldn't break each others' legs. The tigers bit and clawed with greater fervor, but Marguerite gritted her teeth and placed each one into two other pockets. The heat from overhead grew in intensity, and the cabin shook again.
It must have lowered enough to unbalance the supports, she thought. She reached into her belt pockets and started emptying them, knowing that those contents were replaceable. Into each leather pouch she placed a monkey, followed by the rhinoceros. She patted each pocket, checking for more free ones, and decided to place the two lions into a pocket together on her arm. The bears were shivering when she picked them up, and she dropped them together into her hip pocket. Marguerite's fingers and wrist suffered a bit of damage from claws, teeth, and tusks, but she retrieved every last animal and stored it in her now crowded lab coat, the pockets bulging with miniaturized life. The cabin walls were charred, and it was becoming difficult to breathe. Marguerite heard shouting from outside, and she dashed toward the noise, covering her face with her arm to block as much of the flames eating her curtains as possible.
She burst into the daylight, coughing and hoping her feet would keep her steady until she cleared the pyre lit behind her. The circus troupe was frantic, searching for sources of water, clearing the rest of the balloons away from hers with haste. Most were scorched, and some had sparks dancing across their surfaces, threatening to penetrate the balloon's surface and ignite the contents. The animals wriggled about her body, and Marguerite could hardly tell if she was shaking or they were. She lifted her goggles from her eyes, which hurt. She had burn marks from the metal of the goggles heating and sticking to her face.
The regular animal trainers were dashing across the center field, gathering the animals into the tent in case the stables caught fire as well. Several of the horses nearly bolted, but the handlers blindfolded them fast enough to draw them back to the tent. A pillar of smoke snaked its way from Marguerite's former balloon, and she wondered how many of her notes she could remember, wishing for the first of what would be thousands of times that she had made them in duplicate.
A ring of street observers was beginning to form. They were a strangely calm frame to the panic within their circle. Marguerite wondered if this was what it was like to perform under the Big Tent, and if so, she did not want to be part of it.
"Marguerite!" Alexandra cried, "Marguerite, are you all right?"
"No," she said. "I hope the animals are, though."
"Where are-" Alexandra had placed a hand on Marguerite's arm, near the pocket with the lions, who had begun to poke their heads out the corners. "Oh, oh my. Did you get them all?"
"I think so." Marguerite tugged on the pocket cover, pushing the lion's noses back into the pocket. "Find me somewhere to put them, please. I am afraid some of them may hurt each other, or themselves, if they stay in here too long."
Alexandra helped Marguerite to her feet, and Marguerite noted with interest that she had not realized when she had fallen to her knees. Halfway across the circle of quickly shifting balloons, Marguerite saw Marie running toward them with Colette shortly behind her. Asmodeus was also in sight, his usual overcoat cast aside.
Boom
"What?" Marie blinked at the sudden announcement that they needed to leave, looking between the darkened ring and her anxious ringmaster. "But..."
She started to protest, but at that moment Jacque stepped into the ring, and the look on Colette's face made Marie close her mouth around her argument. She followed Colette's gaze to the ringmaster, and then to the highwire, uncomprehending and suddenly, inexplicably nervous. She let Colette grab her hand and lead the way from the tent, looking over her shoulder to see the beautiful twin brothers stepping delicately onto the wire, while the crowd held its breath below.
They rushed back to the circus, with a speed that Marie found unreasonable - certainly not merited by the need to prepare for the evening's show, still yet many hours away. But Colette's mysterious anxiety rubbed off on Marie, who suddenly had a Bad Feeling (and of course, knew better than to ignore such things, lest they be premonitions or hints from friendly spirits or something), rushed along without complaint.
As they reached the neighborhood in which their circus had settled, Marie crinkled her nose - smoke? - and walked faster, pulling up the hem of her long skirt and mentally noting that dressing properly was overrated. Yes, there was definitely smoke; there was a plume of it, rising in a cloudy grey curl from a spot some two blocks away. Marie nearly stopped dead to watch it for a moment, realizing its source, and then broke into a sprint.
One of the hot air balloons, which during the show was full of hydrogen to help support a sideshow tent, was crumpled on the ground, the tent collapsed with it, smoke still rising from the scorched silk. There were burn marks on the surrounding balloons and the tops of the tents for yards and yards around, though the balloon hadn't been very big. It was impossible to tell how long ago the accident - had it been an accident? - had occurred; they'd been gone maybe an hour, and though a few audience members lingered at a safe distance, watching circus workers buzz around the fallen balloon as if it were part of the show, most were gone.
Marie coughed on the smoke as she hurried towards the damage to help.
She started to protest, but at that moment Jacque stepped into the ring, and the look on Colette's face made Marie close her mouth around her argument. She followed Colette's gaze to the ringmaster, and then to the highwire, uncomprehending and suddenly, inexplicably nervous. She let Colette grab her hand and lead the way from the tent, looking over her shoulder to see the beautiful twin brothers stepping delicately onto the wire, while the crowd held its breath below.
They rushed back to the circus, with a speed that Marie found unreasonable - certainly not merited by the need to prepare for the evening's show, still yet many hours away. But Colette's mysterious anxiety rubbed off on Marie, who suddenly had a Bad Feeling (and of course, knew better than to ignore such things, lest they be premonitions or hints from friendly spirits or something), rushed along without complaint.
As they reached the neighborhood in which their circus had settled, Marie crinkled her nose - smoke? - and walked faster, pulling up the hem of her long skirt and mentally noting that dressing properly was overrated. Yes, there was definitely smoke; there was a plume of it, rising in a cloudy grey curl from a spot some two blocks away. Marie nearly stopped dead to watch it for a moment, realizing its source, and then broke into a sprint.
One of the hot air balloons, which during the show was full of hydrogen to help support a sideshow tent, was crumpled on the ground, the tent collapsed with it, smoke still rising from the scorched silk. There were burn marks on the surrounding balloons and the tops of the tents for yards and yards around, though the balloon hadn't been very big. It was impossible to tell how long ago the accident - had it been an accident? - had occurred; they'd been gone maybe an hour, and though a few audience members lingered at a safe distance, watching circus workers buzz around the fallen balloon as if it were part of the show, most were gone.
Marie coughed on the smoke as she hurried towards the damage to help.
17 June 2010
Consorting with the Enemy
"Little Marie, I think it best that we leave. I would not have you here unchaperoned and I realize now it was a mistake to leave my family unattended for so long. We must prepare for our evening performance." Colette's hands twisted in her lap. She'd gotten what she came here for, in a roundabout way. Jacque knew she was here, knew she was with la Vapeur. She knew not how, but she felt icy tendrils of fear creeping through her. No telling what he--or his employees--would do to her beloved Cirque. Or her.
Still, she needed to protect her family, and if she were within her own camp, she would probably be safer. She chided herself for ever venturing out of the camp. This was exactly why she hated stepping out, exploring the town. It was too dangerous, too terrifying.
"Marie?" She repeated the girl's name, but then the ringmaster was stepping out into sight, and for the first time in many years, Jacque's eyes latched onto Colette's.
She gaped like a fish.
The man was thin, small. Wiry. He wasn't French; she assumed he was Eastern European, and he spoke with a thick accent from a land far off, but she knew him only as Jacque and nothing else. His moustache was twirled at both ends, his coattails were long and nearly swept the ground as he waved his arms, bowed, and cried out to the crowds. He was a riveting speaker. The crowd gasped and swooned as one being as he drew their attention to the high wire that was set up in the center of the big top.
The acrobat routine was coming up, and Colette's heart lurched. She couldn't bear to see these men perform under names they hadn't earned, hadn't created. They'd stolen the names and couldn't hope to fill the shoes of their predecessors. Her pride flared, at odds with her fear. She wanted to stay and watch, wanted to turn and run.
The colours were so familiar. That beautiful blue that had set off Auréle's complexion so well. He was darker than she, and more brooding, more ponderous. Her brother, her guardian. Right until the day he died...
She reached down, snatched Marie's hand urgently. "We have to go."
((Spiffy, in my mind when Colette and Marie return to the circus, they find that the acrobats have already been and have caused a ruckus. Up to you as to what damage they have already caused--AND, if you don't like that idea, feel free to create another one! :D I love this thread, but it'd be nice to return it to main camp so that a few more RP'rs can participate? Maybe? Possibly? ))
Still, she needed to protect her family, and if she were within her own camp, she would probably be safer. She chided herself for ever venturing out of the camp. This was exactly why she hated stepping out, exploring the town. It was too dangerous, too terrifying.
"Marie?" She repeated the girl's name, but then the ringmaster was stepping out into sight, and for the first time in many years, Jacque's eyes latched onto Colette's.
She gaped like a fish.
The man was thin, small. Wiry. He wasn't French; she assumed he was Eastern European, and he spoke with a thick accent from a land far off, but she knew him only as Jacque and nothing else. His moustache was twirled at both ends, his coattails were long and nearly swept the ground as he waved his arms, bowed, and cried out to the crowds. He was a riveting speaker. The crowd gasped and swooned as one being as he drew their attention to the high wire that was set up in the center of the big top.
The acrobat routine was coming up, and Colette's heart lurched. She couldn't bear to see these men perform under names they hadn't earned, hadn't created. They'd stolen the names and couldn't hope to fill the shoes of their predecessors. Her pride flared, at odds with her fear. She wanted to stay and watch, wanted to turn and run.
The colours were so familiar. That beautiful blue that had set off Auréle's complexion so well. He was darker than she, and more brooding, more ponderous. Her brother, her guardian. Right until the day he died...
She reached down, snatched Marie's hand urgently. "We have to go."
((Spiffy, in my mind when Colette and Marie return to the circus, they find that the acrobats have already been and have caused a ruckus. Up to you as to what damage they have already caused--AND, if you don't like that idea, feel free to create another one! :D I love this thread, but it'd be nice to return it to main camp so that a few more RP'rs can participate? Maybe? Possibly? ))
16 June 2010
Consorting with the Enemy: Popcorn Pondering
Marie was back in her seat well before Colette had returned, with a bag of popcorn for her ventures out. "The acrobats haven't gone yet," she chatted happily. "But there were some fantastic jugglers, and some women did a dance with ribbons and rings. We could try something like that... Poor Rose is always complaining that gentlemen can't admire her costumes properly when she's way up in the air, but I think she means her breasts, not her costumes..." She trailed off to munch a handful of popcorn, wondering if Colette would notice that her entire rambling had been based on the past twenty seconds or so of performance that had just ended. Her face might have been flushed from dashing back and pushing her way through the crowd, but it was dark, and she might well have been simply excited from the performance.
She put on her most convincing little-girl grin and turned her attention back to the show, rather distractedly. She had assumed that Colette had simply been with the Vapeur forever, since the dawn of creation - discovering that wasn't the case was a bit mind-boggling. And it certainly sounded like a dramatic story. Who was Auréle, for example? And what was the problem with this Jacques gentleman?
And the idea of Colette as a little circus girl! The lion-tamer had said it, but it simply didn't seem possible.
She put on her most convincing little-girl grin and turned her attention back to the show, rather distractedly. She had assumed that Colette had simply been with the Vapeur forever, since the dawn of creation - discovering that wasn't the case was a bit mind-boggling. And it certainly sounded like a dramatic story. Who was Auréle, for example? And what was the problem with this Jacques gentleman?
And the idea of Colette as a little circus girl! The lion-tamer had said it, but it simply didn't seem possible.
13 June 2010
Consorting with the Enemy
Note to Rachel and Spiffy: I fiddled with this a little bit and added quite a chunk to the ending. Tell me if there's any changes you want made!
"We're going to a circus!" Marie began cheering nearly as soon as she'd finished her own act, and did not stop as the matinee performance of the Cirque du la Vapeur finished up. Somehow, the fact that she saw a circus every day, nearly without exception and the fact that this circus was their evil hated rivals, did nothing to dampen the excitement of a girl who rarely got to see shows she was not working. "I'm gonna go change into something pretty!" she announced as soon as the acrobats had finished putting all at ready for that evening's show, and dashed off to make herself pretty, just in case the very pretty acrobats spotted them in the audience.
As Marie rushed by Alexandra's cabin, the fortune teller called out to her young friend, "what are you in such a hurry to get to?"
Marie slid to a dramatic halt, having been in the middle of dashing to her cabin when Alexandra called her. "We're going to see the other circus!" she explained breathlessly. "They gave me a ticket last night." She shuffled a bit embarrassedly. "I thought I'd, y'know, dress up a bit. Since we don't go to shows often an' all."
Alexandra smiled at Marie, "It sounds like fun, but I hope you aren't going alone. If they recognize what circus you are from, they might not treat you well."
Colette approached. "I'm taking her, Alexandra. Against my better judgment."
At least this time there won't be any wine to throw," Marie said cheerfully, before fleeing into her little cabin to change out of her stage costume.
Colette dusted her palms off before pulling her white gloves snugly on under her red cuffs. "There's no way they could know we're with la Vapeur." She fidgeted a little nervously with a button.
After a series of impressive crashing sounds from inside the cabin, she skipped back out in a yellow walking skirt, tied at the waist with a brightly-colored sash no doubt lifted from a performer's costume, and a hand-me-down blouse trimmed in lace similarly lifted from old costumes. It was perhaps the only respectable outfit she owned, and she was quite proud of it. "Ready to go!" she announced, tying a bonnet over her hair, which was still a tangled, post-performance mess of braids. She'd even thought to take off her rosette - better safe than sorry.
"I wouldn't bet on it. We were wearing our rosettes and knowing Asmodeus he wasn't subtle in threatening the acrobat." Alexandra said quietly to Colette as Marie bounced out of the cabin.
Colette blinked. "He what?" She bit off that line of talk as Marie approached. "Alexandra, we'll... we'll talk about this. Tonight, after the show?" She wanted to stay and discuss this at length, but part of her was eager to leave this camp and attend the other circus. She looked dubiously down at her attire. "Perhaps I should leave this here." She stripped off the red coat and handed it to Alexandra. "If you would be so kind to reaffix the loose seams? I'll add payment to your share of the ticket sales tonight, of course."
"Of course. I'll make your favorite tea as well," Alexandra checked the watch around her neck, "but I must go, I need to start telling fortunes now that the show's over."
Colette bowed slightly. "Of course. Luck be with you." She turned to Marie. "Ready?"
Marie nodded cheerfully, though she cast a suspicious look at both Alexandra and Colette for whatever they'd stopped talking about when she'd arrived. "Bye Alexandra! See you tonight!" she said, and led the way out of the Cirque encampment.
"Bye! Have fun, Marie!" Alexandra said as she headed back toward the main tent.
Colette was a little less excited than the little acrobat, more driven by a desire to see what the Hirondelle was up to. They walked together, Marie darting ahead or chattering excitedly, and Colette a little more pensive.
Finally, as they approached the bright teal tent, Colette pulled Marie aside. "They may or may not recognize us, but even if they do, we've every right to be there. We're patrons today, that's all. Do you understand? Don't say anything about la Vapeur. Nothing. The man who runs this circus is... vindictive. And competitive. No need to incite trouble unduly."
Marie was a bit taken aback by the warning, but nodded all the same. "Is that what you and Alexandra were whispering about when I came out?" she asked, a bit more boldly than was perhaps advisable.
Colette frowned. "Not exactly." She knew it was hypocritical to tell Marie to play it safe when Colette fully intended to sneak around and do a little behind-the-scenes investigation, but Marie was a child. She needed to be protected. Colette didn't need protection--in fact, anyone who got in her way would be more in need of it.
"But you know him," Marie pressed. "The gentleman who runs this one. Did you go t'ringleader school together or somethin'?" She smiled a bit at the thought - for all she knew there really was such a thing as ringleader school, but she was already distracted from the idea as a swell of bright, odd music drifted from inside the tent.
"He has a reputation." Of course, that wasn't all she knew of him, but the swarm of ticket-holders was slowly moving towards the tent's entrance, and she nudged Marie forward. She handed a staff member money for her own entrance, and Marie's free pass. The garish writing gleamed in the semi-dark, and the names of the acrobats stood out against the paper. Showtime.
Marie would have prodded further, but her attention was now firmly elsewhere as she and Colette joined the crowd entering the tent. She squeezed her way through the crowd to get seats near the front, only thinking to look back for Colette after having stepped on three ladies dresses, knocked a gentleman's hat off, and claimed the prized front-and-center seats.
Colette sat next to her, a little apprehensive. Down here, they'd either be at the focus of the actors' attention, or ignored as the performers looked at the more centrally seated audience. No way of telling how it would go, but unless she were in the back, she wouldn't dare sneaking off to do a bit of spying. She'd have to wait until after the show, then. More's the pity.
Christophe, the animal tamer of Cirque de la Hirondelle, emerged from the dark animal housing tent and made his way into the main tent. He had been with the circus for over 15 years and had no worries about his performance. He scanned the people in the first few rows of the seats, wondering if there were any old friends who might be showing up. He notice one striking woman with a man's top hat sitting front center next to a brightly clad girl. "I wonder.... Could it really be?" he murmured to himself.
Colette shifted uncomfortably. This was a mistake. She wanted to snoop, not sit here and watch her former life parade in front of her like some kind of damn... circus. She almost laughed at the irony, but the chuckle died in her throat as performers began to enter the ring.
"Christophe," she mouthed, shocked, before reaching up and almost waving her fingers in greeting. She flinched away from the motion, adjusting her top hat instead and pulling it a little lower over her eyes.
Marie leaned forward, elbows propped on her knees, to watch the animal tamer begin his act. It was certainly unlike what she was used to seeing - she giggled out loud, trying to imagine Marguerite sticking her head into one of her lion's mouths as this performer did with his. "Perhaps we should get some big animals," she whispered to Colette, looking up, then frowning at the unhappy look on the ringmaster's face. "What's wrong?"
She looked away, noting the full seats. For their first performance, the place was packed. They were a long-established, successful circus, with a devoted following in nearly every town across Europe. Their name was known worldwide. "They're certainly popular," she whispered. "But our animals are more unique."
Building up la Vapeur from the dirt was more worthy anyways, she thought. The results were more satisfying, the travels more dangerous and the risks more rewarding. Anyone can be a cog in a machine already built. No creativity in that.
The old man squinted into the seats, trying to make out the features of the woman. He twisted his moustache thoughtfully, as the woman leaned into towards her friend, the new angle showing more of her face. "It is, it's Colette!" He almost shouted aloud in joy.
"I suppose. They can't eat anyone," Marie said thoughtfully, as if unsure whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. The threat of being eaten certainly seemed to make a more exciting show. She turned her attention back to it, and found the animal tamer looking directly at them. She started to wave, thinking it part of the act, then stopped. "He's staring at you," she pointed out in a whisper.
Colette almost rolled her eyes at his behaviour. "Focus on your act, Christophe, or you'll lose an arm," she wanted to tell him. He'd always been there to joke with, to share stories with, and to ask for advice. He was good-hearted, which in the Hirondelle, was a rare trait. "Perhaps," she told Marie. "But I doubt it. You're dressed far more colourfully."
Marie would have liked to respond with some clever retort - she was quite sure he was staring at Colette, not her - but before she could come up with one the lion roared and she nearly jumped out of her seat with surprise. It was never quite so loud when Marguerite's roared like that! Marie mentally noted a sudden, newfound appreciation for her circus's unnatural little beasts, for all she disliked them.
Christoph had always thought of her as a daughter, one he had never had. He understood that the tragedy was a more than understandable reason for her to leave, but he had wished she at least kept in touch. The roar of a lion dragged his attention back to his act. He needed to concentrate and Colette was always telling him that.
Colette felt a twinge of sadness. Christophe had always taken such pride in his little devils, as he called the cubs, and she didn't recognize a single animal out there in the ring with him. She'd missed so much... births, shows, stories, jokes. The kind of thing they used to exchange at late hours, celebrating their victories together... If anyone would be willing to speak with her about Jacque's--and the Hirondelle's--erratic behaviour of late, Christophe would be the one. They'd arrived at the Hirondelle within two years of each other, and had been close from then until the night she left without a word. She regretted not leaving him word, but... c'est la vie. Things happen.
The animal tamer's act was winding down; Marie joined the audience in applauding, but again caught sight of the unhappy look on Colette's face. "It'll be fine," she said, misreading the ringleader's expression. "Like you said, we're here as audience. We can't get in any trouble."
Colette nodded to Marie. "Of course. Of... I'll be right back." At Marie's bewildered face, Colette fished out a thin package of cigarettes. "Smoke." She backed out of the aisle, and darted out of the tent. Shoving the cigarettes back into her pocket, she raced around the outside of the tent, ducking into the shadows to avoid a few crew hauling a huge pallet of grain bags. She quickly found the performers' area behind the tent and waited in the dark for Christophe to come out. A few clowns wandered by, but they took no notice of her, intent on the upcoming act.
Christophe has seen her leaving her aisle and realized her intentions. He raced out of the tent once his animals were safely put away. In the shadows he saw a womans slight figure and knew it was Colette. The animal tamer opened his arms to her like he used to whenever he had been gone for a long trip finding new animals.
Colette nearly sobbed with relief as she threw herself into his embrace. So many years had passed, and it still felt the same. She grinned against his shoulder. "You look well. And still have all your fingers!"
“Of course I do, my dear. You know I'm always careful." He murmured to her as he stroked her hair. "And you look wonderful, you've grown up to become a beautiful woman."
Colette smiled. "You finally see me as more than a little girl, then?" She'd been twelve when Christophe came to the Hirondelle; she was a scared little thing, still unbalanced on the tightrope and terrified of tumbling... She’d travelled with him for almost a decade, firmly attaching herself under his wing. And now, six years had passed since her brother's "accident," since she's fled the circus that had first taught her to be bold. Since she'd seen her favourite lion-tamer.
Christophe held her away from his to better take a look at her, "And how have you been all these years?"
"Busy. I've been touring with another circus. Didn't expect to run into you all again--especially here."
"Yeah, this city holds a lot of memories, for all of us. What other circus are you running with? Any of the famous ones?" He winked at her.
Colette bit her lip. “You know la Vapeur?” His eyes widened in recognition, and she admitted—a little bashfully, which stunned her, as she hadn’t felt this way in years—“I started it.” She’d more than started a circus—she’d poured her heart and soul into dragging it into existence from the ground up, hiding from Jacque behind her brother’s given name, the one he’d shunned the day he left the Nagin household. “We’ve, ah, become quite successful. In our own fashion.” The circus was unique, even as circuses go. Shunning the big animal acts in favour of freaky science and eerily accurate fortunes told outside the rings. Spreading the attention around was drawing more and more attention, ironically enough, and the profits weren’t exactly pouring in, but they were more than enough to keep the group flying and fed. She sighed. Starting the circus had been the solution to a problem she’d never expected. If only she could go back. If only her brother hadn’t…
She stopped herself, allowing herself one final sentiment before consigning herself to digging information out of the friendly Christophe. “I didn’t want to go, Christophe. You know that. If it were up to me, I’d still be with the Hirondelle.”
“I know,” replied the animal tamer. “We miss you. Six years is a long time, but we haven’t forgotten you—Jacque certainly hasn’t, for all the wrong reasons.”
Colette bit her lip. Their fight had been catastrophic. And still, all these years later, she sometimes wondered if it all could have been avoided. Too late now, though. “What’s done is done. I’m more than willing to put it in the past, but Jacque is like a dog with a bone. I can’t believe he set down here—we’ve been established for two days now.”
“Colette, I don’t know what to tell you. We do what we’re told. You know how he is. He said to touch down, put up the big top, so we did. He wouldn’t have competed with just any circus. He knows the rules.”
Colette crossed her arms. “He couldn’t possibly know that I run la Vapeur. Nobody does.”
“Everybody does! La Vapeur is famous, Lettie. So are you.”
“No. Auréle is famous. Le Conquerant is famous. Not Colette. Not me.”
“You can't possibly be so naive. I don’t know that Jacque knew you were here already, or if it was an unhappy coincidence, but there’s no doubt. He knows you're here, and he’s out to ruin you, Colette. He hasn’t forgotten what you did.”
Colette nodded sharply. “Thank you, Christophe. I should return to the show. I’ve left one of my girls inside.”
Christophe reached out, took her elbow before she could turn away. “Lettie, we haven’t forgotten what you did either.” He repeated the opinion softly, and it had an entirely different meaning.
She bent her head, murmuring, “Thank you,” again before reaching forward and giving him a fast embrace. “Farewell.”
Behind her, there was a scurry of motion as Marie rose from where she was kneeling and flitted away, heart pounding and mind laden with questions and doubts.
"We're going to a circus!" Marie began cheering nearly as soon as she'd finished her own act, and did not stop as the matinee performance of the Cirque du la Vapeur finished up. Somehow, the fact that she saw a circus every day, nearly without exception and the fact that this circus was their evil hated rivals, did nothing to dampen the excitement of a girl who rarely got to see shows she was not working. "I'm gonna go change into something pretty!" she announced as soon as the acrobats had finished putting all at ready for that evening's show, and dashed off to make herself pretty, just in case the very pretty acrobats spotted them in the audience.
As Marie rushed by Alexandra's cabin, the fortune teller called out to her young friend, "what are you in such a hurry to get to?"
Marie slid to a dramatic halt, having been in the middle of dashing to her cabin when Alexandra called her. "We're going to see the other circus!" she explained breathlessly. "They gave me a ticket last night." She shuffled a bit embarrassedly. "I thought I'd, y'know, dress up a bit. Since we don't go to shows often an' all."
Alexandra smiled at Marie, "It sounds like fun, but I hope you aren't going alone. If they recognize what circus you are from, they might not treat you well."
Colette approached. "I'm taking her, Alexandra. Against my better judgment."
At least this time there won't be any wine to throw," Marie said cheerfully, before fleeing into her little cabin to change out of her stage costume.
Colette dusted her palms off before pulling her white gloves snugly on under her red cuffs. "There's no way they could know we're with la Vapeur." She fidgeted a little nervously with a button.
After a series of impressive crashing sounds from inside the cabin, she skipped back out in a yellow walking skirt, tied at the waist with a brightly-colored sash no doubt lifted from a performer's costume, and a hand-me-down blouse trimmed in lace similarly lifted from old costumes. It was perhaps the only respectable outfit she owned, and she was quite proud of it. "Ready to go!" she announced, tying a bonnet over her hair, which was still a tangled, post-performance mess of braids. She'd even thought to take off her rosette - better safe than sorry.
"I wouldn't bet on it. We were wearing our rosettes and knowing Asmodeus he wasn't subtle in threatening the acrobat." Alexandra said quietly to Colette as Marie bounced out of the cabin.
Colette blinked. "He what?" She bit off that line of talk as Marie approached. "Alexandra, we'll... we'll talk about this. Tonight, after the show?" She wanted to stay and discuss this at length, but part of her was eager to leave this camp and attend the other circus. She looked dubiously down at her attire. "Perhaps I should leave this here." She stripped off the red coat and handed it to Alexandra. "If you would be so kind to reaffix the loose seams? I'll add payment to your share of the ticket sales tonight, of course."
"Of course. I'll make your favorite tea as well," Alexandra checked the watch around her neck, "but I must go, I need to start telling fortunes now that the show's over."
Colette bowed slightly. "Of course. Luck be with you." She turned to Marie. "Ready?"
Marie nodded cheerfully, though she cast a suspicious look at both Alexandra and Colette for whatever they'd stopped talking about when she'd arrived. "Bye Alexandra! See you tonight!" she said, and led the way out of the Cirque encampment.
"Bye! Have fun, Marie!" Alexandra said as she headed back toward the main tent.
Colette was a little less excited than the little acrobat, more driven by a desire to see what the Hirondelle was up to. They walked together, Marie darting ahead or chattering excitedly, and Colette a little more pensive.
Finally, as they approached the bright teal tent, Colette pulled Marie aside. "They may or may not recognize us, but even if they do, we've every right to be there. We're patrons today, that's all. Do you understand? Don't say anything about la Vapeur. Nothing. The man who runs this circus is... vindictive. And competitive. No need to incite trouble unduly."
Marie was a bit taken aback by the warning, but nodded all the same. "Is that what you and Alexandra were whispering about when I came out?" she asked, a bit more boldly than was perhaps advisable.
Colette frowned. "Not exactly." She knew it was hypocritical to tell Marie to play it safe when Colette fully intended to sneak around and do a little behind-the-scenes investigation, but Marie was a child. She needed to be protected. Colette didn't need protection--in fact, anyone who got in her way would be more in need of it.
"But you know him," Marie pressed. "The gentleman who runs this one. Did you go t'ringleader school together or somethin'?" She smiled a bit at the thought - for all she knew there really was such a thing as ringleader school, but she was already distracted from the idea as a swell of bright, odd music drifted from inside the tent.
"He has a reputation." Of course, that wasn't all she knew of him, but the swarm of ticket-holders was slowly moving towards the tent's entrance, and she nudged Marie forward. She handed a staff member money for her own entrance, and Marie's free pass. The garish writing gleamed in the semi-dark, and the names of the acrobats stood out against the paper. Showtime.
Marie would have prodded further, but her attention was now firmly elsewhere as she and Colette joined the crowd entering the tent. She squeezed her way through the crowd to get seats near the front, only thinking to look back for Colette after having stepped on three ladies dresses, knocked a gentleman's hat off, and claimed the prized front-and-center seats.
Colette sat next to her, a little apprehensive. Down here, they'd either be at the focus of the actors' attention, or ignored as the performers looked at the more centrally seated audience. No way of telling how it would go, but unless she were in the back, she wouldn't dare sneaking off to do a bit of spying. She'd have to wait until after the show, then. More's the pity.
Christophe, the animal tamer of Cirque de la Hirondelle, emerged from the dark animal housing tent and made his way into the main tent. He had been with the circus for over 15 years and had no worries about his performance. He scanned the people in the first few rows of the seats, wondering if there were any old friends who might be showing up. He notice one striking woman with a man's top hat sitting front center next to a brightly clad girl. "I wonder.... Could it really be?" he murmured to himself.
Colette shifted uncomfortably. This was a mistake. She wanted to snoop, not sit here and watch her former life parade in front of her like some kind of damn... circus. She almost laughed at the irony, but the chuckle died in her throat as performers began to enter the ring.
"Christophe," she mouthed, shocked, before reaching up and almost waving her fingers in greeting. She flinched away from the motion, adjusting her top hat instead and pulling it a little lower over her eyes.
Marie leaned forward, elbows propped on her knees, to watch the animal tamer begin his act. It was certainly unlike what she was used to seeing - she giggled out loud, trying to imagine Marguerite sticking her head into one of her lion's mouths as this performer did with his. "Perhaps we should get some big animals," she whispered to Colette, looking up, then frowning at the unhappy look on the ringmaster's face. "What's wrong?"
She looked away, noting the full seats. For their first performance, the place was packed. They were a long-established, successful circus, with a devoted following in nearly every town across Europe. Their name was known worldwide. "They're certainly popular," she whispered. "But our animals are more unique."
Building up la Vapeur from the dirt was more worthy anyways, she thought. The results were more satisfying, the travels more dangerous and the risks more rewarding. Anyone can be a cog in a machine already built. No creativity in that.
The old man squinted into the seats, trying to make out the features of the woman. He twisted his moustache thoughtfully, as the woman leaned into towards her friend, the new angle showing more of her face. "It is, it's Colette!" He almost shouted aloud in joy.
"I suppose. They can't eat anyone," Marie said thoughtfully, as if unsure whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. The threat of being eaten certainly seemed to make a more exciting show. She turned her attention back to it, and found the animal tamer looking directly at them. She started to wave, thinking it part of the act, then stopped. "He's staring at you," she pointed out in a whisper.
Colette almost rolled her eyes at his behaviour. "Focus on your act, Christophe, or you'll lose an arm," she wanted to tell him. He'd always been there to joke with, to share stories with, and to ask for advice. He was good-hearted, which in the Hirondelle, was a rare trait. "Perhaps," she told Marie. "But I doubt it. You're dressed far more colourfully."
Marie would have liked to respond with some clever retort - she was quite sure he was staring at Colette, not her - but before she could come up with one the lion roared and she nearly jumped out of her seat with surprise. It was never quite so loud when Marguerite's roared like that! Marie mentally noted a sudden, newfound appreciation for her circus's unnatural little beasts, for all she disliked them.
Christoph had always thought of her as a daughter, one he had never had. He understood that the tragedy was a more than understandable reason for her to leave, but he had wished she at least kept in touch. The roar of a lion dragged his attention back to his act. He needed to concentrate and Colette was always telling him that.
Colette felt a twinge of sadness. Christophe had always taken such pride in his little devils, as he called the cubs, and she didn't recognize a single animal out there in the ring with him. She'd missed so much... births, shows, stories, jokes. The kind of thing they used to exchange at late hours, celebrating their victories together... If anyone would be willing to speak with her about Jacque's--and the Hirondelle's--erratic behaviour of late, Christophe would be the one. They'd arrived at the Hirondelle within two years of each other, and had been close from then until the night she left without a word. She regretted not leaving him word, but... c'est la vie. Things happen.
The animal tamer's act was winding down; Marie joined the audience in applauding, but again caught sight of the unhappy look on Colette's face. "It'll be fine," she said, misreading the ringleader's expression. "Like you said, we're here as audience. We can't get in any trouble."
Colette nodded to Marie. "Of course. Of... I'll be right back." At Marie's bewildered face, Colette fished out a thin package of cigarettes. "Smoke." She backed out of the aisle, and darted out of the tent. Shoving the cigarettes back into her pocket, she raced around the outside of the tent, ducking into the shadows to avoid a few crew hauling a huge pallet of grain bags. She quickly found the performers' area behind the tent and waited in the dark for Christophe to come out. A few clowns wandered by, but they took no notice of her, intent on the upcoming act.
Christophe has seen her leaving her aisle and realized her intentions. He raced out of the tent once his animals were safely put away. In the shadows he saw a womans slight figure and knew it was Colette. The animal tamer opened his arms to her like he used to whenever he had been gone for a long trip finding new animals.
Colette nearly sobbed with relief as she threw herself into his embrace. So many years had passed, and it still felt the same. She grinned against his shoulder. "You look well. And still have all your fingers!"
“Of course I do, my dear. You know I'm always careful." He murmured to her as he stroked her hair. "And you look wonderful, you've grown up to become a beautiful woman."
Colette smiled. "You finally see me as more than a little girl, then?" She'd been twelve when Christophe came to the Hirondelle; she was a scared little thing, still unbalanced on the tightrope and terrified of tumbling... She’d travelled with him for almost a decade, firmly attaching herself under his wing. And now, six years had passed since her brother's "accident," since she's fled the circus that had first taught her to be bold. Since she'd seen her favourite lion-tamer.
Christophe held her away from his to better take a look at her, "And how have you been all these years?"
"Busy. I've been touring with another circus. Didn't expect to run into you all again--especially here."
"Yeah, this city holds a lot of memories, for all of us. What other circus are you running with? Any of the famous ones?" He winked at her.
Colette bit her lip. “You know la Vapeur?” His eyes widened in recognition, and she admitted—a little bashfully, which stunned her, as she hadn’t felt this way in years—“I started it.” She’d more than started a circus—she’d poured her heart and soul into dragging it into existence from the ground up, hiding from Jacque behind her brother’s given name, the one he’d shunned the day he left the Nagin household. “We’ve, ah, become quite successful. In our own fashion.” The circus was unique, even as circuses go. Shunning the big animal acts in favour of freaky science and eerily accurate fortunes told outside the rings. Spreading the attention around was drawing more and more attention, ironically enough, and the profits weren’t exactly pouring in, but they were more than enough to keep the group flying and fed. She sighed. Starting the circus had been the solution to a problem she’d never expected. If only she could go back. If only her brother hadn’t…
She stopped herself, allowing herself one final sentiment before consigning herself to digging information out of the friendly Christophe. “I didn’t want to go, Christophe. You know that. If it were up to me, I’d still be with the Hirondelle.”
“I know,” replied the animal tamer. “We miss you. Six years is a long time, but we haven’t forgotten you—Jacque certainly hasn’t, for all the wrong reasons.”
Colette bit her lip. Their fight had been catastrophic. And still, all these years later, she sometimes wondered if it all could have been avoided. Too late now, though. “What’s done is done. I’m more than willing to put it in the past, but Jacque is like a dog with a bone. I can’t believe he set down here—we’ve been established for two days now.”
“Colette, I don’t know what to tell you. We do what we’re told. You know how he is. He said to touch down, put up the big top, so we did. He wouldn’t have competed with just any circus. He knows the rules.”
Colette crossed her arms. “He couldn’t possibly know that I run la Vapeur. Nobody does.”
“Everybody does! La Vapeur is famous, Lettie. So are you.”
“No. Auréle is famous. Le Conquerant is famous. Not Colette. Not me.”
“You can't possibly be so naive. I don’t know that Jacque knew you were here already, or if it was an unhappy coincidence, but there’s no doubt. He knows you're here, and he’s out to ruin you, Colette. He hasn’t forgotten what you did.”
Colette nodded sharply. “Thank you, Christophe. I should return to the show. I’ve left one of my girls inside.”
Christophe reached out, took her elbow before she could turn away. “Lettie, we haven’t forgotten what you did either.” He repeated the opinion softly, and it had an entirely different meaning.
She bent her head, murmuring, “Thank you,” again before reaching forward and giving him a fast embrace. “Farewell.”
Behind her, there was a scurry of motion as Marie rose from where she was kneeling and flitted away, heart pounding and mind laden with questions and doubts.
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