Test Drive #1 - London, England, Earth 1845

[thegreatestlittlemod]

The last few days of a stop are always either the slowest, or the busiest. The gray days of London in the autumn don't seem to be helping this to be the busiest, with rain driving customers away.

There are still some customers jogging between tents and ducking under game awnings, using coats and hats to try and keep the water off, but tips are few and far between, and a lot of audiences are empty, leaving performers sitting and waiting, or ducking into each other's shows to watch or just say hi, and those on the game alley shouting across the aisle at each other. Food vendors move up and down the aisle and tents with hot cocoa and kebobs to keep people warm.

A few people are out in the city proper running errands for themselves, each other, or the Ringmaster, often in pairs. Maybe the goal is to find six spools of ribbon in one exact color, or to capture a whole bowl full of raindrops from under a specific shop sign, or to replace some pants you tore in your last show. Whatever it is, you're down to the last day to find it.

Are you determined to put on a show despite having an audience of five? Are you chatting with your fellow carnies, bored with the slow day and wondering where you're going next? Are you seeking out something strange and confusing in jolly old London with a friend?

Or are you determined to enjoy the circus on its last day in your city, not expecting a surprise in store for you when it starts to pack up its doors tomorrow?

Comments

V : OTA

[splitinvain]

beast taming
Some of the tents were contained in small, almost cozy environments. Others were in larger spaces to give more room for dazzling displays of man and animal working together. In most shows, the beasts were handled with great care to keep from reacting to outsiders, but in this tent, there was only a line of rope keeping the large black form prowling along the cleared space of grass and the visitors separated. There were other large cats as well in this clearing - two lions with gray on their muzzles, a tiger worrying at a large bone, several sleek forms that could only be leopards. Yet none moved past the panther to the humans past the rope.

And into the space between the panther and the rope stepped a man. Lean with dark hair, all his exposed skin - and there was a lot of it from his waist up - covered in twisted lines of black ink, he leaned on a cane as he walked up to the panther and ran his hand over her head. And in a soft, smooth and impossibly compelling voice, started speaking, "Welcome to my nightmare..." glancing at the visitors he gives a bow "...I think you will like it."

A snap of his fingers and the cats moved. Dancing and swirling around him, pouncing towards him only to miss, weaving between each other in twos and threes as they jumped and leaped. He used neither whip or tools, only his voice calling out in a strange tongue that sound exotic but no one could remember its sound after he spoke. Once and a while the great panther would do a trick that seemed like it was merging with the shadows - sometimes her tail growing spikes, other times looking like she just melted into the ground. But that was impossible really, only just tricks of the shadows cast by the hanging lights and the way the other animals moved, surely. Then the cats stopped their tumbling, forming into a line and bowing even as V turned, the great panther padding out of the shadows to lean against his side and attempt to bite his cane and tugging it away.

"Do forgive us if we startled you; but this is what we are, when the nighttime crawls near."

collecting
The appearance of a circus often meant that strange sights will occur on the nearby streets. In this case the strange sight was a rather pale, lanky young man wearing little more than a laced waistcoat, American 'cowboy' trousers and boots, showing off a riot of twisting black lines on his exposed skin. Sitting calming on his shoulder like a rather disgruntled looking scarf was a very large raptor, possibly of some exotic species that most Londoners would never have dreamed of - or if they had, would never admit to the nightmares that would spawn such things. The only thing that looked almost normal about him was the cane he was leaning on as he stood underneath a shop's awning, eyebrows raised as he looked up to the gray and dreary clouds.

"Once upon a midnight dreary..." he murmured and the bird on his shoulder made a snorting sound and poked him in the cheek. He sighed and flicked his fingers against the bird's chest. "Stop being childish. We still have half a dram left before we're done. Do you see any of the others?"

Almost grumbling like a disgruntle man being told to get out of bed, the bird launched himself into the air, wings surely not glowing in the gloom, no. They were just reflecting light from the guttering street lamps. Watching the bird circle then land on a chimney, V shook his head, looked down at the half-filled bottle and sighed.

Beast taming

[worthallthis]

After the end of the show, Buck applauds from the doorway, still wearing his vibrant purple suit and tails and deer antler hat. There's not a lot of people to file out past him, or toss tips into V's cup, but he waits until they do before he pads up. "Any kitties willing to have an old knife-thrower pet 'em tonight?" he asks cheerfully.

[splitinvain]

"I don't think they would be unwilling," V replied, letting go of his cane. Shadow mrrrowed around the metal and flopped down, chewing happily at it as he took out a handkerchief to wipe his hands clean. The black of his tattoos shifted, and a very large raptor formed at head height soaring to an unoccupied chair.

"Do come in, if you wish."

[worthallthis]

"Don't mind if I do," Buck says cheerfully, and maybe he beelines for the cats first thing. "So which kitties want pettings the most?" He figures V will be the one to know, if anyone will.

"Have a good show?" he asks, crouching down and holding out his right hand for the cats to investigate should they wish. The demon hand sometimes puts them off, if they aren't familiar with the smell, so he keeps it in reserve. He can't remember how many of this troop of cats are new.

[splitinvain]

"The lions, I think. They are..." he pauses from looking down at Shadow worrying his cane to look over at the older two cats. "Most agreeable to some good skritches. The tiger is testy and the younger ones aren't exactly what they seem."

"Heh, understatement of the year there," Griffon added, pausing in his grooming. "Where d'ya grab them from again?"

V shook his head, not bothering to answer the bird. "As good as one can have with the cold seeping into old joints."

[worthallthis]

"A lot of things aren't exactly what they seem, around here," Buck comments, but it's a good-natured comment. He scoots over, crouch-walking towards the lions so he doesn't stand up and suddenly become big and scary, offering them his hand, instead.

He slides a glance at V for the last comment. "You in pain again?" he asks, less jovially and more probing.

[splitinvain]

The lions looked up from their spot, slowly stretching and the slightly younger one leaned against the offered hand, letting Buck scratch at will. None of the cats looked afraid of him or his other hand; then again against the more physical size of Shadow, they were use to the smell of demonic sources.

"Yah, yah, I hear ya," Griffon muttered, wings half opening in a bird's version of a shrug.

V sighed, glancing at the raptor and debated if it was worth the effort to draw him in then dismissed it. All of his pets enjoyed moving around in the air though only Nightmare was far too big to do so freely. He was going to let it out later, while they were packing.

"When am I not?" He lifted his eyebrows, half-shrugging at the bleak humor and then got his cane free from Shadow's gnawing. Leaning on it, he sighed, taking a few steps until he could sit on a bale of hay. "It will pass, as all things do."

[worthallthis]

"You talked to anybody in the medic tent about that lately?" Buck asks seriously, though his hand is gentle on the lion's cheek and chin. "I know there's teas and shit they can make you that will help."

Nevermind that Buck himself never partakes of anything from the medics tent. He has... an inexplicable aversion. But he knows he's weird that way, and readily suggests other people do so themselves.

[splitinvain]

"Their potions make my head... fuzzy," he replied, twirling his cane around and poking the tip at Griffon. "Stop that."

The bird cackled and then shook his feathers out, tri-beak snapping at the cane. "Careful, Shakespeare, that thing's dangerous."

"Not for you," he replied even as he let the cane drop. "This was the last showing, yes? Are you heading out into the city?"

[worthallthis]

"Not sure yet," Buck admits, giving the lion a scratch with both hands now, since he's pretty sure this one is okay with the demon arm. With the night winding down, and his own last show completed, he's going to start running out of his manic energy pretty soon here. "Might crash for a little while first, then go out in the morning, before we start the tear-down in earnest. I've got tips burning a hole in my pocket and there's a blacksmith in town who does knives."

He buys a new knife every town he can. It's tradition at this point.

[splitinvain]

"Ah, I've heard of the blacksmithh. Unfortunately I did not have time to stop by for a request," he replied, twirling his cane around, the tip neatly slicing apart the turf. He didn't have to add anything more; getting a knife already sharpened and ready to go was one thing, but to get something specially made, with elements that were not normal in the real sense of the word, well that was a bit more difficult.

"I will need to groom the cats, make sure they are fed and bedded down before I can retire myself."