Grunts shuffled along the isles, extinguishing candles one at a time until all that remained lit were the torches around the rings. The firelight cast shadows along the immense tent’s red and black sides. As the grunts retreated to a far corner beneath the bleachers, a tuba’s deep bellow overtook the expectant chatter of the crowd. A crescendo of music followed but few eyes would settle on the masked musicians as a man made his way into the center ring.

Marglo bowed deeply, a sinister smile playing beneath his curled black mustache. The band concluded with a cymbal crash as he straightened. “Good evening!” His voice carried into every ear, smooth and deep. “I expect you are all here out of curiosity?” He searched the crowd with glistening hazel eyes. Nods followed and mumbles arose in response to the rhetorical question. “Very good, then,” he muttered to himself.

“Then, you are all in for a treat! This is a show like no other! For our opening act, we ask one of you! Yes, one of you! To join us… in the rings…” He made a sweeping motion with both arms to the rings on either side. “Who dares to join us?”

Joyce hesitantly looked around at the other hands tentatively raised in the audience. She was relieved to see that just about every other one of them had the same unnerved expression on their faces as she surely felt on hers. For a moment she considered putting her hand back down, but no, she would keep it up. It was time for her to come out of her shell and more into the spotlight. She was tired of being a wallflower. She thoughts how it worked in movies at least... some nobody would volunteer for something, be great at it, and then all sorts of people would want to talk to them afterwards.

Her eyes watched as peope or creatures or nice costumes hunched their way into the corners, then back at the ringmaster. She couldn't explain why but she just felt so uncomfortable looking at him.

From behind the curtains, a hand let the curtain fall back into place to shut out the gasps, oohs and aahs of those so easily impressed and feigning fair. Tian sighed, and continued to sweep out the arenas. Every so often he would stop and look longingly, wistfully at the winding abandoned road that led to this damned freakshow.

Marglo snapped his fingers and a woman, taller than even he, swept up towards the bleachers. Her figure flowed silkily beneath a glittering red leotard. Cool blue eyes fell on every raised hand then slid down to linger in the eyes below each hand. With each gaze, she shook her head and the audience member would lower their hand as if shell shocked.

When she settled on Joyce, she smiled in a way that filled her pale face. “My lady,” she said to the girl, holding out a thin, delicate hand. The scent of violets filled the air around her. “I think you would be a lovely addition to this act…” When the girl agreed to take her hand, she would turn as she did every time they went about this act to lead her back towards the ringmaster, silky gold curls rising in a gentle wind behind her.

As always, Marglo would whisper, “Thank you Eyna.” Then, he would place a firm hand behind the audience member’s back and begin to announce their intents. It was always the same…

“Few posses the right energy to enter our rings and join our performers in an act! But my dear Eyna always chooses wisely! What is your name?” He would ask, looking down with his toothy, pointed smile.




Niora’s hands curled around her helmet. She had the pleasure of waiting outside, sitting peacefully on the wing of the plane. She was the last act, the final act, the grand finale. She doubted very much there was anything more phenomenal about her than the other performers. It was just such a hassle to open to the tent up so the audience could gaze up at the skies.

Tonight, she felt jumpy. The energy of the night was all wrong. Something was going to happen. Something… new. Dark or light she could not tell. But change was coming. With a sigh, she leapt lightly from her perch. She had plenty of time to wander and mingle. Her footsteps raised tiny plumes of dust as she went to find one of her fellow workers. She came upon Tian first. They were not deeply familiar with each other, but few in the carnival were.

The ring of music and shouts filled the night air around them as life outside the tent went on. There were still games and freak show displays between the many other tents and wagons. Her voice rose over it all as she greeted him.

“It’s a dark night,” she said sharply. “How are you faring?”

Joyce withdrew her hand for a split second. Mostly because she couldn't believe that out of all these people she had been picked. She felt her cheeks flush brightly, feeling slightly embarassed as she felt the crowd's eyes upon her. She swallowed thickly, becoming jsut a light bit calmed by the scent of the assistant. However, it quickily dissipitated as she drew close to the Ringmaster. The girl suddenly hoped that maybe Eyna picked wrong. This man would see that and would sendher back to the safety of her seat. But he didn't, instead, he and the audience was awaiting her answer. "M..my..Joyce. My name is Joyce, sir," eventually she squeaked out with her tight throat. Her eyes gazed up and around, wondering what would come next.

Tian lifted his eyes, scoffed a bit, and returned to his sweeping. It was Niora, the pilot. One of the lucky few that had a job with somewhat meaning behind it. "Let's see. I'm here... there are naive somebodies in there, and I just cleaned up after a bear with a stomach virus. I'm perfectly peachy, yourself?" he returned the question. Now, he stopped sweeping, propping his hands atop the broomstick with his chin resting on his knuckles. [/I] "Sounds like a pretty lively crowd nonetheless. You should get a few good reactions and applauses."[/I]