Scene 2: The Grounds

This is a new scene!

Stalking into the Grounds, Varekai still felt irksome. The big looming tent was faraway now. She watched as a couple kids ran by, laughing and playing with their new brightly coloured balloons. A shiver went through her as she shook her head absentmindedly, she had to shake it off. This was a circus, she scolded herself. You can’t be annoyed or depressed at a circus, otherwise you didn’t belong there. Putting on a brief smile, she glanced around to see the new faces flood in from the entrance gates.

Slowly her gaze went up to the sky, it was getting late--slowly, but surely. Sometimes Varekai wondered what she was doing with her life. Sighing, she discarded those troublesome thoughts that were beginning to flood back into her mind. She didn’t need to deal those memories right now.

She had to entertain!

After a 30 minutes of spying around the circus grounds, Ethan and Eileen had finally lost interest in the various individuals, couples and families lurking about the booths and performances. People watching was usually a faveourite activity of the twins- a child's fascination or interest in something can go on for hours, despite the lack of an attention span. But after a while, all the different faces became too familiar to them- they passed the same couple feeding eachother cotton candy, the same children gawking and giggling at the clowns. Boredom was a plague that rarely infected the twins, but whenever it did, they could be reassured that the perfect remedy was gossip.

Sitting on wooden bench behind the ice cream stall, Eileen spied a forlorn looking Varekai.

"Who are those fire girls that keep popping up? The spunky one and the one that wears a mask." she said. "I don't think we've been formally introduced."

"Dunmo" said Ethan, his words muffled by what must have been a truckload of half chewed popcorn in his tiny pink mouth.

"The short one is over there."

Ethan was silent.

"She has funny hair."

Ethan was silent again.

"Hellooo? Earth to Ethan? My god, why are you so distracted today?"

"Whamt?"

"Who are those fire girls?"

"i fink da giwrl wif da green hair's naye sarts wif a V."

"What?" said Eileen. "A B or a P?"

"A V!"

"what?"

" I FAID A VEE." Bits of popcorn flew out of Ethan's mouth and onto Eileen's cheek. He thought she looked better that way.

Eileen gave a small shudder as she used the sleeve of her sweater to wipe away the flecks of Ethan germ.

"For chrissake, Ethan" she said. "Chew with your mouth closed. I swear to god, you can be such a twat."

But instead of returning with his own rude remark as he usually would, Ethan focused on the ground. Eileen stared at him expectantly.

"What, so now you haven't anything to say? Now that you're done chewing you choose to stop talking?" She rolled her eyes into her head. "You are such a boy."

"Just shutup, okay?" he mumbled.

Eileen furrowed her eyebrows. Her brother had always been more sensitive than her, but it was rare that he ever took offence to any of her petty comebacks. Calling him a twat was hardly unusual.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her tone softening. Though Eileen hated any form of sympathy, especially towards her prat of a brother, she knew when something was bothering him, and found it tiresome starting any real conflict.

Ethan was silent for a long moment.

"I don't want to talk about it." he said, his eyes still focused on the ground. Then, he suddenly tugged his sister off the bench.

"Besides," he said. "I feel like starting some trouble."

Jocasta watched the crowds milling about near her booth. She was getting fewer and fewer customers as showtime approached, and the boredom was just about killing her. Eating away at her mind, the pressure of having nothing productive to do built up. She kept her eye on the future, hoping it would present an opportunity, an excuse to move.

She had returned the father's wallet ages ago, and now all she had was sitting, watching and wrapping. Endlessly wrapping embroidery floss around an older wrap, one that needed patching.

Her floss tensed, and Joca tugged. The end had to be caught on something. She watched the grandfather across the way win a teddy for the tiny girl with him, two minutes from now. Her floss tugged back.

Snapping herself back to the present, Joca glanced down. Mendel was back, and he seemed to have an obsession with the horrific murder of the trailing floss.

"Give it here, kitten." She loosed her hold on her end of the thread. Mendel poked it, decided it must be dead. She finished her wrap and scooped up the fat old feline.

He purred, liking his new height. Something wasn't quite right, though. Mendel was covered in a grey dust. Joca sniffed his ratty fur delicately. It smelled like . . . gunpowder?

Lex watched quietly for a moment as she drew quietly closer to the seer's booth, her lips curling with disdain for the fat feline. She could tell from the confused expression playing across Jocasta's face that something was not quite right, especially after she sniffed at his fur. There was a sudden breeze, and Lex caught a whiff of the scent wafting off from the cat. Her curiosity was piqued.

Stepping forwards quietly, she offered a crooked grin. "Nice cat," she smirked. "Looks like he enjoys playing with fire too..."

"Fuck," Elias spat. "Stupid fucking cat."

Elias retreated to the back of the big top to prepare the cannon from which he intended on launching the twins. He hadn't bothered to tell them yet, but was sure they would be up for it. But it needed to be tested first.

In a puff of black powder, the cat had escaped the barrel of the cannon, mere moments before Elias intended on lighting the fuse. "fuck," he repeated. The cat was truly the bane of his existence. Elias could remember many an occasion where the cat insisted on chasing his tail for days on end, which sometimes lead to a rather nasty bout of of CCCS (chronic cat concussion syndrome). Funniest thing, just came out of nowhere.

Elias has since staged at least six separate attempts on the cats life, most of which ended embarrassingly for himself, but some resulted in a further irreparably traumatized cat, which was better than nothing.

He bet that the other laughed at him behind his back. A monkey fighting with a fat cat? Who wouldn't?

With a hiss and an irreverent wave of its tail, the feline was off, leaving behind a trail of black. He would be hearing about this from someone later, no doubt. Oh well.

Elias' mind eventually drifted away from the failure that was his cat cannon. Showtime is in thirty minutes, his internal clock of inafflibility told him, better get moving.

Elias made his way to one of the older looking tents where they kept most of their out-of-date-but-still-fully-functional-crap technology. Well, it wasn't crap, really. It just had... character. Along the side of the tent, a wire ran up the wall and onto the roof of the tent, through which there stood a rather large, rotting, wooden pole. And on that pole, a megaphone. He dug through the mess of wires on the table before him until finding a microphone, rectangular, old, faded silver.

Elias cleared his throat. "Welcome to the big top, fair citizens of this almost glorious country!" Nothing. That line usually got a laugh... He continued." We would now like to invite you to -- hell!" It wasn't plugged in. Elias fumbled around with the cords for awhile before finally hearing his voice over the megaphone. "Check. One, two -- yes!" there was a spattering of laughter from the outside. He repeated his opening line, which received a much more raucous response than he would have expected -- he could hear war veterans cussing him out from inside of the tent -- and invited the patrons into the big top for the main show which would start in -- he checked his inner clock -- ten minutes.

"Thank you, and we hope to see you there."

Joca cast a disapproving frown at Lex. She really had no patience for dishonesty, or, at least, dishonesty directed at her. Lex was obviously disgusted by Mendel, so why on earth did she pretend to like the poor kitten? (Not that Mendel could possibly be classified as a kitten by anyone but Joca)

"Not fire . . . this hasn't been lit."

Hmm. Joca's precious cat plus sketchy dealings with potentially dangerous substances equalled . . . what, exactly?

"WELCOME TO THE BIG TOP, FAIR CITIZENS--" Elias' voice boomed immediately over the scratchy old loudspeaker.

"That uncultured primate. How dare he?!" Joca stalked off to the Big Top, petting Mendel's powdery fur as she went. She doubtless earned more than a few odd stares as she went, cooing to her cat.

"Oh, my poor, poor, kitten . . ."

Something had to be done about Elias.

Joca smiled unpleasantly as a plan occurred to her, a plan that really had the potential to turn out badly for the monkey-boy. The Mark would exact her revenge for her. Momentarily, she felt like the villain in an old film, where all the viewer could see was a sinister hand stroking a fat, happy cat.

"We'll get him, precious, we will. I might even warn him first . . ."

"MREOW. MREEEH. MEEEOWOWWWAHHAA." wailed Jocasta's cat, as the twins spotted it fleeing from a disgruntled Elias.

"Fuck. Stupid fucking cat," he said. What Elias wanted to do with a cat and the cannon the twins had seen him fiddling with earlier, they didn't want to know.

"Ooh, Kitty!" cooed Eileen, who leapt up from the wooden bench and trotted after it. The poor thing was obviously in no mood to be harrassed any further, but Eileen ignored its desperate attempts to wiggle free from her clutches as she scooped it up into her arms.

"Who's a precious little huggaboo? Who's a boo? That's right, that's you!" Ethan tried to ignore Eileens disgusting display of affection, but he couldn't help notice the grey powder that came off on Eileens face as she rubbed her cheek against the cat's head (Ethan had explained to Eileen many times that one does not stroke a cat with their cheek, but with their hand, that the former simply wasn't done, but she would never listen to him. She always claimed that she was 'cuddling', or something).

"What's that on your face?" said Ethan.

"Very funny, Ethan." Eileen rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious. That cat is covered in gunpowder."

Eileen gasped and brought her hand up to her cheek, the cat leaping out of her arms, making a bee line for Jocasta. Ethan glanced around and spotted Elias stalking into the main tent.

"I... I think he was trying to shoot the cat from that cannon." said Ethan, pointing at the cannon.

Eileen gasped again, this time out of pure shock and horror. What sort of horrible person could possibly even welcome the idea of shooting a creature so pure and adorable from a cannon?

"THAT MONSTER." She exclaimed, and marched over to where the cannon sat, surounded by crates full of fireworks, dynamite, and various other things that should not be left unattended with two mischievious, ADHD prone children.

Eileen stuck her head in the cannon. "There's nothing in here but gunpowder," she observed. "Now i'm no cannon expert, but there doesn't appear to be any safety devices in here or anything. How on earth was he planning on shooting that poor thing without harm?"

"I don't think he really cared," said Ethan absently. He was staring at the crates of explosives as Elias' voice boomed over the loudspeaker "Check 1, 2- Yes! Welcome to the big top..."

"That brute! That hooligan! That yahoo!" grunted Eileen. "Shooting innocent kittens from cannons... i'm going to give him a piece of my mind." She turned fast on her heel and stomped over to the main tent.

Ethan glanced at Jocasta's tent, where Jocasta was stroking her cat. Lex stood there now, donning a well-rehearsed smirk, the smirk that Ethan thought must have been on her face when she was born.

"She likes fire..." murmured Ethan to no one in particular as he peered into a half opened crate and eyed the fireworks inside.

Eileen stopped suddenly at the tent entrance as she noticed that her brother wasn't following behind her like a golden retriever in his usual manner. She turned yelling "Well, aren't you going to come-" but as she noticed what her brother was doing she stopped mid sentence and shrieked;

"ETHAN, DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH THAT THING-" But she was too late. The fuse had been lit, and Ethan was already leaping behind a pile of crates to take cover. Eileen gawked, her feet frozen to the ground, her eyes wide. She watched the the tiny spark burn closer and closer to the end of the wire, until something pulled her by the arm into the tent as the loudest noise she'd ever heard flooded her ears.

Varekai dragged Eileen from the blast and covered her in the nick of time too. She had smelled the gunpowder in the air and had been watching carefully the whole scene. The pair just managed to hit the deck when the wire lit up. It felt like a bomb had gone off as the explosive sound deafen their surroundings. Charred and singed, the air smelt burnt. She thought so have gotten used to it by now—nearly being around it for most of her life but gunpowder aftermath smells still bothered her.

Reminding her of that time . . .

She shook her head of the thought and tried to refocus her mind. Elias was a jerk. He had obvious gotten carried away with the gunpowder yet again. She would have a word with him about this later or at least let the Ringmaster hear of this—yes, the ringmaster would definitely be notified.

What if a customer got hurt? What if a kid ended up in the hospital? Rage burned in her mind as the questions piled like a bag of flour being poured. Just thinking about kids getting hurt made her remember that time.

There was one motto of hers—NEVER get kids involved with dangerous stuff unless they can handle it.

She looked back at the twin girl. “Are you alright?”

She felt the heat of the blast caress her face like the kisses she barely remembered receiving from her mother, in the haze of childhood memory mostly lost and forgotten. She watched idly as the others ran for cover, ducking under debris -- or what looked like it -- to avoid the harsh roar and sting of the flames. She couldn't help but laugh happily as she felt the sparks dancing across her skin and felt saddened and slightly chilled when it was over, much too soon for her liking.

She turned, flicking her zippo open and setting her hands alight, her deft movements betraying the fact that it was a comforting habit. She let it dance across her arms, to splay across her shoulders, where they stayed flickering, her torso illuminated. She glanced at Varekai, who looked pissed about the explosion.

Lex guessed it was because the little do-gooder was worried about potential innocents. Lex wasn't duly bothered. In her experience, no one was really truly innocent. Except for maybe newborns. Maybe. Lex didn't really see what the problem was. No one got hurt. Sure, maybe lawsuits might be filed, but ultimately, no harm done this time.

Truth was, she didn't see why everyone was so bothered about the cat. He wasn't hurt either. Although, if she had to choose, she kind of liked Mendel better than that monkey man.

Whatever, she sighed, letting the fire spread back down to her fingers. She decided she was just going to go check in one more time in ringmaster's tent and then head over to do the opening performance. Because obviously, she was the most captivating, exciting act.

In her tent, Ainsley was preparing. She went over the acts over and over, making sure she knew each one intimately, practicing her smile in the spotted, gilded mirror, endlessly adjusting her tutu.

She hated to admit that the monkey was right. But if this wasn't stage fright, then she obviously didn't know the meaning of the word.

Her mind drifted to the twins. She hoped they were doing all right. They were darling little rascals, really, if a bit troublesome. The project she had given them wasn't even busy work - she was sure they would make good spies, and she did need to know her audience. However, Jocasta's post was even more important - looking after the twins was not a negligible duty.

Suddenly, a shiver went up Ainsley's spine; her back arched, and all her senses were alert. Something was happening in her circus. She heard the muted, crackling voice of Elias over the megaphone, and... was that a cat?

Boom! Ainsley gasped and covered her ears (her natural response to catastrophic situations). After a moment, she realized that she was being silly and childish, and wasted no time in rushing out of the tent to investigate the situation.

People milled about in a slightly more frenzied fashion than usual. And... was that scent one of gunpowder?

The cannon. Somebody had shot off the cannon before the show had even started. She immediately thought of the twins, and hoped they were safe. Her mind was stilted, fragmented, and she struggled to focus. What needed to be done? First, she had to make sure that everyone was safe. Her workers were her responsibility, and she would be damned if she would let anything happen to them when even her father - her no-good, irresponsible, fascist of a father - had at least made sure that nobody died... That she knew of, at any rate.

Ainsley's stride became more purposeful. This was not happening - not on her first day. Whoever was responsible for this was in for all the wrath she had stored up in her little redheaded body. She threw her shoulders back and strode toward the cannon, fuming...

Lex quickly intercepted Ainsley the moment the ringmaster stepped out of the safe confines of her tent. She could tell from the tense lines of her posture that she was not in a good mood. Although this crisis seemed to have dispelled the stage-fright, if only momentarily.

Lex figured this was the best time to talk to her, alone, before all the other meddlesome fools got in her way and she would be forced to dispatch of them in some manner or other. She figured it would be best to capture her attention with information she wanted to know. She let the fire dance back up to her shoulders, where the flames frolicked happily, to leave her hands free, for extra clear communication.

"Ringmaster," she addressed Ainsley, in a tone that could have passed for respectful, but it was really really hard to tell. "No one was harmed. Even the cat escaped grievous injury. And if you're looking for the head on which to place the blame... I can tell you that also."

At Lex's words, Ainsley breathed an immediate sigh of relief. No one was hurt - that was the most important thing.

The next most important thing, however, was discovering the perpetrator and making sure that they paid dearly for their error. Sometimes, Ainsley had to admit, power was sweet.

Her first instinct was to thank Lex heartily, and have her tell the story as they made their way to the scene; but Ainsley soon realized that such a reaction was folly. As much as she wished to have the information Lex offered her, she was also cautious - she didn't want to be indebted to the fire dancer, whose flames had gracefully swept up to her shoulder and licked the surrounding air.

"If you can tell me," Ainsley commented, reminding herself that she was the authority in the place, "you will. And you will be rewarded however I see fit."

Her voice sounded strange in her own ears. Calm, cold - more like her father than she would care to admit. She pushed that thought from her mind, and awaited Lex's revelation.

Lex smiled, noting the shift in Ainsley's tone halfway through her sentence. She suspected that Ainsley did not quite trust her, and for that Lex wanted to clap. Blind trust was not something to be admired or respected. And although Lex disliked being insubordinate to anyone -- she decided that in this case, they were more like equals. Using each other for their own purposes and at their own convenience. So it sat quite alright.

"Your monkey is up to something, Ringmaster. If you'd like, I can assist you further," she said, leaving the rest unspoken, as she held out her hands, palms upward -- a universal gesture of peace, but made much more ominous as the flames spread back down to pool into them.

Having decided on the best way to prevent further harm to her itty bitty fluffy Mendel, Jocasta let her eye roam. It was about time she checked in on the twins, after all. She was shocked that they hadn't managed to find trouble yet.

Ah . . . There they were. But what was Ethan doing with-

"No!" It was too late. Thrown by the blast, Joca quite suddenly found herself on the ground, her arms covered in scratches from a certain panicked cat. The crystal ball she had so efficiently kept unblemished earlier lay a foot away, irreparably cracked from its fall.

Furious, Joca strode over to the crates, behind which she knew she would find the culprit. Fishing him out from behind them by his arm, she glared sternly at him.

"Ethan, most times - most, but not all times - your antics are clever." She kept a tight grip on his arm, lest the hooligan should try to escape the coming lecture. "This is not one of those times."

"Ethan, are you listening to me? People could have been killed! The next time you find a trick that you like, try a little premeditation. If it's something that could hurt one of us, someone needs to know."

After a moment's consideration Ainsley decided to accept, despite the part of her - the instinctual, basic part that abhorred the fire that could char her - telling her than allying herself with a creature of the flame was absurd. The fire girl's hands seemed to be outstretched in peace, but Ainsley knew that the flames could fly down to them in a millisecond. Nevertheless, Lex seemed intelligent, and trustworthy enough - as much as anyone, at any rate.

"I will accept your assistance... Lex," Ainsley agreed with a slight bow of the head. She gestured toward the origin of the explosion. "Explain while we walk," she suggested.

Smoke in her eyes and ringing in her ears, Eileen blinked wildly through momentary whiteness. She felt the pair of soft but strong hands lift her into the tent, and suddenly the ground rose up behind her, hitting her hard on her back. A face, surrounded by wisps of peculiar green hair, swam into her line of vision.

"Are you alright?" asked Varekai.

"Where is Ethan?" asked Eileen. "I'm going to kill him."

---

Ethan had barely had a chance to brush the gunpowder from his shoulder and chuckle at the pandemonium surrounding him before he'd been yanked up by the elbow by a livid Jocasta.


"...find a trick that you like, try a little premeditation. If it's something that could hurt one of us, someone needs to know." Jocasta scolded.

Well, he may have set the circus on fire, and he may be on porta-potty duty for the next month, but he still had his hearing.

"But Jocasta!" Ethan whined. "It was only a joke. Who doesn't like a little excitement at a circus? That's what circuses are all about! Excitement, adventure, fire hazards!"

Elias flinched. Only a flinch.

He knew what happened, and immediately regretted having been born. One of the twins had most likely set off the cannon. Or a pyro. That was the problem with pyros, always setting off cannons. Or, hopefully -- hopefully -- the cat had decided to launch its self out of the cannon. Hopefully.

"Watch somebody other than the cat be dead," he muttered.

Well, he thought, adjusting his green blazer, might as well make the best of my time until the show. In a matter of seconds, he'd leaped behind a stack of wooden, technology -- wretched, wretched, technology -- filled crates and covered himself in an array of wires, some of which were attached to a multitude of rather heavy objects. Like speakers. Speakers, the likes of which were now on top of him. The microphone had fallen from it's post and landed on his chest as well.

"Hell," he said.

"HELL," said a rather handsome, familiar sounding voice from outside. It boomed, almost as if it were...

Silence.

"So... who wants to hear a joke?" he said, stuttering and short of breath. "SO. A priest and a Homo-sex-uuul walk into a bar..." he thought the souther accent would be a nice touch.

Lex smiled, happy that the ringmaster had accepted her preposition. She wouldn't have been bothered if Ainsley had rejected it, only slightly. Lex would have simply gone on and done what she wanted, only then, the ringmaster would not be aware of it.

They began to walk, Lex stayed a calculated half-step behind the ringmaster, not out of genuine feelings of obedience or reverence, but because she figured it gave the illusion of such. She let the fire run down to her fingertips as she mimicked the purposeful stride of the ringmaster, a gait which was familiar to her, if only a less graceful version of what she was used to.

"I suspect that the monkey has an unnatural obsession verging on deep-seated hatred for cats," she began, although she was slightly unsure as to what the ringmaster meant by the command to explain-- did she want to know details of the incident or the rest of her unspoken preposition? After a moment's deliberation, she decided to cover all the bases.

"From what I have observed since joining your group, he has been targeting the seer's fat feline for a while now. That being said, the catalyst of the incident was the male twin..." Lex grinned suddenly, studiously ignoring the monkey's feeble cover-up monologue booming over the grounds. "It's fascinating how people fear and abhor pain. You'd think they'd find a way to get used to it, wouldn't you?"