Circus Grounds

[Vikteren]

+Rotting Lunacy+

It was a simple, immediate reaction that her eyes turned to watch him when he began to speak. And she did not look away, even when the pain in them was swallowed whole by a new one, which she was certain would give away a little more sense of her vulnerability, her fragility---guilt, loneliness, fear...
When his eyes turned skyward, when he strayed from the issue, she moved towards him automatically, closing her fingers very tentatively---delicately---over his own. "Don't run," she said softly, a scrap of a whisper that no one but him could have heard, "Please." Of all he had said since night had fallen, she feared most the things that he was saying only in his head while he spoke. As a result, there was only one thing she could think to say. "Please, don't run. I love you...please don't leave me." Somehow, inconceivably, she kept herself calm, if not desolate.

He looked at her, and was surprised--shocked--to see her cold expression had changed. Something that he had never before seen on Antha's face.
Afraid. Vulnerable. Young.
She was so young.
On impulse, he closed his fingers around her and pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms gratefully around her, feeling that tide of loyalty and--what else could he call it but, yes, love--rise in his chest.
"I'm not going to leave you," he whispered fiercely. "I promise."

"Not ever."  

[XCandy and LunacyX]

"Good." She nearly breathed the word, putting so much emotion into the one little utterance that one could not be picked singularly out. Her fingers clutched loosely at his shirt and her eyes went soft as she touched her forehead to his shoulder almost hesitantly. Almost. She paused to notice that even to her own knowledge, she had never looked so...human. And---quickly, quietly---the pressure lessened from her chest, allowing her a little more room to breathe. Of course it was still there, trying to choke her it seemed, but the difference was significant enough to make her ponder it.
Somewhere out past the trees, beyond the path, she heard the music stop and the clapping begin. She heard the amplification of Nicholas's voice, the smooth flow of his French accent when he bid his audience farewell until the next night that they crossed paths. It was all she needed to invoke the single-minded determination that had earlier possessed her. "I have to talk to Nicholas," she said softly, her mind crossing the distance and seeking him out. Nicholas, God of the stage---he was not hard to find. And, as if she needed more encouragement, her name was called over that same distance in a hollow, voiceless invitation.

 

[Vikteren]

+Rotting Lunacy+

"Good." She nearly breathed the word, putting so much emotion into the one little utterance that one could not be picked singularly out. Her fingers clutched loosely at his shirt and her eyes went soft as she touched her forehead to his shoulder almost hesitantly. Almost. She paused to notice that even to her own knowledge, she had never looked so...human. And---quickly, quietly---the pressure lessened from her chest, allowing her a little more room to breathe. Of course it was still there, trying to choke her it seemed, but the difference was significant enough to make her ponder it.
Somewhere out past the trees, beyond the path, she heard the music stop and the clapping begin. She heard the amplification of Nicholas's voice, the smooth flow of his French accent when he bid his audience farewell until the next night that they crossed paths. It was all she needed to invoke the single-minded determination that had earlier possessed her. "I have to talk to Nicholas," she said softly, her mind crossing the distance and seeking him out. Nicholas, God of the stage---he was not hard to find. And, as if she needed more encouragement, her name was called over that same distance in a hollow, voiceless invitation.

"I will accompany you."
That was all that he felt need be said, although she likely took it for granted by now--like a courteous date escorting her to her door.
He slid a hand over hers, his broad, long-fingered palms eclipsing her smaller hands, as he linked his fingers loosely with hers.
He had noticed how her expression had shifted, smoothed and changed. From the impassioned woman in a girl's body, something had changed, and briefly she had fit herself. There wasn't quite any way to explain it.
Vikteren thought, in that instant, that she was more beautiful than she had ever been.  

[.David Talbot.]

Nicholas waited backstage patiently, chuckling quietly to himself. Is it possible? he asked mockingly, Evie, are you in love? He laughed a little harder. I think I liked your first love better. Nicholas had always imagined Antha spending her eternal life with her brother Nicolae in the way that was particular to the Mayfairs. Not that the obedient corpse isn't amusing as hell.

 

[XCandy and LunacyX]

Antha's eyes narrowed, putting a wall up to block Nicholas. Be quiet! she hissed at him, her fingers tightening almost nervously around Vikteren's as she started for the big tent.
When they arrived, she let go completely, twirling around to face him. "I think it best if I go in alone," she said softly, her eyes set carefully upon his, "Nicholas is...hard to manage, I suppose." She let it trail off there---let him make of it what he wanted---and vanished into the tent where, though so many performers had been buzzing around it only hours ago, waiting for their part, Nicholas stood alone, watching the canvas that shielded the stage.
Something like a switch flipped inside of Antha, and the witch was herself again to anyone who paid attention. "What's going on in your carnival, Nicholas?" She made it a threat, her voice all whispers and menace, one which he could not ignore.
She went to touch his hand, a light brush of fingers, and showed him what she had seen. From the expression on her face, there was no need to tell him that she was angry.

 

[.David Talbot.]

His body tried to flinch away from her. But he had better control than that. "I do not know who the man was," he replied. Often he tried to suppress the French in his voice when he spoke but with Antha he felt no need. "People often wander in and set up shop on their own. We pay them no mind." A look of thought flashed across his face as fast as flipping through pages of a book. "Perhaps I should rethink that policy."
His gaze wandered to the overlapping canvas that led outside. "You really shouldn't leave your companion out there all alone. You know how our performers get. Why, there are some almost as insane as you." He laughed with amusement and rushed out of the tent before Antha could prtest. He swept Vikteren a low bow and watche dhim with eyes that sparkled in humor. "Good afternoon." He didn't suppress the accent but made it very thick. "I am Nicholas. What a pleasure it is to meet you at last!"

 

[XCandy and LunacyX]

Antha rushed out after him, placing herself quickly between the two vampires. Her hand grabbed Vikteren's, making her more aware of his bruised flesh. No closer, she warned Nicholas, her eyes glaring angrily at him. She blamed him for it---the old man, Vikteren's injuries. As many times as she had warned him about being careful, he still did not take care of his carnival. "I'm not finished with you," she told him shortly, her emerald eyes narrowed with anger.

 

[.David Talbot.]

Nicholas scoffed. "Sleet is angry, furious. He will avenge himself, Evie. And I did not have anything to do with the sorcerer or whatever you will choose to call him. So what do we have left to say?" There was a lot he could think of but he mentioned none of it. He hoped she could find nothing else. "But then it does not have to be a question, does it Evie?" He didn'[t like the thought of being yelled at, having her power lashed out against him, so he stayed outside near to Vikteren.

 

[XCandy and LunacyX]

Antha took a moment to gather herself, releasing Vikteren and taking a small, threatening step forward that put her almost chest to chest with Nicholas. "Oh, I have plenty left to say," she said calmly, her lips twisted into one of her most sweetly menacing smiles, "Whether you like it or not. So I suggest you step back inside. You may call William or Aidan or Allen to your side to bear witness if you like, but you're not going to escape me, Nicholas. Not tonight." She let her power creep over him slowly, singeing the hem of his costume and pressuring him backwards into the tent again.

 

[.David Talbot.]

He fought her power long enough to bend his body forward. He gave her a very low and obedient bow. It hid the fear in his eyes. He had screwed up big time and he knew it and the time for jokes had passed. I know who my master is, he murmured to her mentally and there was nothing joking or deceitful about him suddenly. He had acknowledged Antha as his dominant long ago. So after that he scurried back into the tent and stood with hands clasped behind his back to wait obediently for his punishment. He wondered if crying and begging and pleading would earn him some mercy for his carelessness.

 

[XCandy and LunacyX]

"Oh, stop it!" she hissed at him as she darted back into the tent, glaring at him as she moved, "You do not belong to a master anymore, Nicholas. If anything, you are master to those you have brought together here. I am dominant, but it's too much a waste of energy trying to control you."
She was silent for several long moments, pacing a small circle around him. "I've warned you to keep a better eye on what goes on around these grounds. Now, I'm threatening you. You're in Osiris City now, Nicholas, not some human-run town where you're the scariest thing in the county. You have to watch your territory and if you don't, I'll have it taken from you. Whatever that man was, it was not good. I want nothing more of the like here. David, Khayman, and I allowed you into our city because you assured us you could handle whatever came along with you. Handle it, Nicholas." The last sentence was her most commanding threat yet, and she stopped before him, eyes glassy and focused while they pried into his to emphasize the threat.
Absently, somewhere in the back of her head, she began to wonder if Vikteren was listening to her words from the other side of the canvas. A smaller part of her worried that he was.

 

[.David Talbot.]

Nicholas tensed briefly. She was right. He did not belong to a master any longer. Antha might be angry with him for disagreeing with her but his opinion would not get him punished. "I know you have to protect your city. I know what I agreed to and I am sorry that I was not true to my word."
He would have apologized more but he found his attention wandering back outside. Back to Vikteren. "What will you do, Antha?" he asked, "Will you tell Claire Leonelli? David Talbot? Your brother Nicolae?" His voice lowered to a whisper. "Would you dare tell your Oncle Julièn?" He laughed and fell to one of the chairs near the opening in the canvas. "The old man would have a heart attack watching you fret over a vampire this way. Nothing like your uncle Louis, that man, no matter how hard he tries."

 

[XCandy and LunacyX]

"No one is like Uncle Louis," she said quickly, her voice lowered to a whisper, "No one could be, no matter how much they may wish it so." She gave a quiet sigh, a mere whisper of breath, her mind reaching out to Vikteren and bidding him inside, into their company.
One by one she pulled the buttons of her frock coat loose, letting the lacy black ruffles of her dress spill out. Only it remained untouched by the long branches in the forest, sullied by the ground where she had fallen. "I'm quite afraid some of this damage can never be mended," she remarked passively of the coat that had been a gift from Nicholas. She did a little twirl before the mirror, making the shadows flicker and dance around her, before she took a step closer to examine her face. A few faint smudges of dirt on her cheeks, a line or two of blood where she had let her fingers trail across her skin. Her scarlet curls were a mild mess, but the thick eyeliner circling her eyes and mascara coating her lashes was as perfect as when she had left the house and the Mayfair emerald hanging about her neck was, as always, untouched. "You know, he used to tell me that it didn't matter if I was beautiful by nature. He said a proper lady had to take care of her appearance, from her clothes to her hair to her make-up, and take pride in herself if she wished to be called beautiful. Personally, I feel costumed." She flashed a faint smile---weary with nostalgia---and ran her fingers carefully over the emerald, clutching it in her hand like a charm she wished to invoke.

 

[Vikteren]

+Rotting Lunacy+

"No one is like Uncle Louis," she said quickly, her voice lowered to a whisper, "No one could be, no matter how much they may wish it so." She gave a quiet sigh, a mere whisper of breath, her mind reaching out to Vikteren and bidding him inside, into their company.
One by one she pulled the buttons of her frock coat loose, letting the lacy black ruffles of her dress spill out. Only it remained untouched by the long branches in the forest, sullied by the ground where she had fallen. "I'm quite afraid some of this damage can never be mended," she remarked passively of the coat that had been a gift from Nicholas. She did a little twirl before the mirror, making the shadows flicker and dance around her, before she took a step closer to examine her face. A few faint smudges of dirt on her cheeks, a line or two of blood where she had let her fingers trail across her skin. Her scarlet curls were a mild mess, but the thick eyeliner circling her eyes and mascara coating her lashes was as perfect as when she had left the house and the Mayfair emerald hanging about her neck was, as always, untouched. "You know, he used to tell me that it didn't matter if I was beautiful by nature. He said a proper lady had to take care of her appearance, from her clothes to her hair to her make-up, and take pride in herself if she wished to be called beautiful. Personally, I feel costumed." She flashed a faint smile---weary with nostalgia---and ran her fingers carefully over the emerald, clutching it in her hand like a charm she wished to invoke.

He pushed aside the heavy canvas flap, the parting low enough that he had to duck his head to enter.
The vampire's face was carefully closed-off, an immaculate alabaster death-mask. But the lack of expression did not make it peaceful; the gaze that fell on Nicholas was heavy as lead, almost as poisonous.
He straightened his cuffs, over those fading purple-and-yellow bruises, as deliberately as a human might gird for war; the same sort of cool preparation apparent in each movement. In the brief moment that he lowered his eyes, he sent Nicholas a message. It had no words, but it could not have been any more effective if he had written a page-long monologue.
And it was clearly a warning.
He raised his eyes again, passing over Nicholas as though he was not there, and turned to Antha. "Are we done here?"  

[XCandy and LunacyX]

She turned from the mirror to look at Vikteren with wide, innocent eyes. A tissue was in her hand, sullied with most of the dirt and blood that had stuck to her face. The blood under her nails, dried like webs down her fingers, would be there until she got to running water, but for the moment it made her feel better just to have her face cleaned. "I suppose we are," she said softly, throwing the tissue away and turning to Nicholas. She offered him a bloodied hand, the trademark wicked grin playing across her lips. It was not quite as dramatic with her dark lipstick wiped away, but effective still she was sure.