Èryuè 1st 250X (cont.)

Prasong and JJ arrived back to the Circus settlement with only a few minutes to spare. The sky was already dark, save for the pockmarked patterns of reflected city lights. Spotlight projectors utilised the Polis smog as a canvas upon which to beam commercial slogans or election propaganda above the city.

"You're late," came a familiar drawling voice to their left as they entered into the large dirt floored arena. There were tents and shacks set up along the edges and people were cooking and talking in the centre. Hoards of children, some unclothed, others covered in mud and dust, screamed and laughed as they ran past Prasong and JJ.

"Seriously?" JJ responded in an incredulous voice. "Does anyone actually want to try doing the runs for themselves?"

Prasong threw JJ a stony look, the other boy always took the Ringmaster's good moods for granted.

"Did you deliver the Stardust okay?" the Ringmaster asked with a smirk. He was already in his official Circus costume, ready for the evening's performance.

A shiny black top hat sat upon the nest of golden curls framing his strangely angular face. His height made him loom ominously and the shadows under his eyes were as dark as ever. This was despite the caked and peeling stage makeup he was sporting, which gave his face a deathly white pallor.

"Yes, Bobik took it personally," JJ said, looking brighter now.

"Oh? And I suppose he told you the good news then?" The Ringmaster shot a questioning look at Prasong who couldn't control his scowl.

The older man chuckled, "Oh come now Little Doll, you can't be a drug rat forever and the fighting rings make sense for you - you've got faster reflexes than other kids and better healing. You could make me a lot of money in the ring. It's so rare to find a helixed that's actually usable."

Prasong flinched before plastering on a smile, "Whatever you think Boss."

"I think I've got two pit bulls standing in front of me, ready to be un-muzzled," the Ringmaster replied with a toothy grin. "Now go get some food in yourselves before the show starts. JJ you can help with the final rigging checks and Prasong?"

Prasong breathed in, waiting for the Ringmaster to continue before he laid a clammy hand with long and abnormally thin fingers on Prasong’s cheek, "Make sure you stretch properly before your trapeze and contortion routines tonight, I can't have you breaking a leg before fight training's even begun." He chuckled softly, "you'd be completely useless."

"He's an ass," JJ growled once the Circus boss was out of sight.

"Be quiet," Prasong snapped, reaching up to bat the back of JJ’s head.

"What?" JJ shrugged. "It's not like he can hear me, I've checked his eyes - no rings. No special senses, unlike you. Anyway did you hear what he did to Lilia the other day? "

"No..." Prasong murmured, he never paid much attention to the Circus' gossip. "Why? What did he do?"

"Apparently she wasn't earning as much as the other girls," JJ told Prasong, "so the Ringmaster's been making Kai give her a shot of Morpheum every time she's got scheduled sleep."

"I don't get it..." Prasong frowned in confusion, "why would he want to give her a dream drug? Surely she'll just be more tired for her work shifts?"

"It's Morpheum Epiales," JJ explained with a grim look as Prasong sighed in understanding. Morpheum Epiales was one of the Ringmaster's punishment drugs of choice; it was specifically created to induce nightmares.

"He gives her a shot of the crap before she goes to work on the streets and then at the end of the shift he asks if she's earned enough money to buy Hypnos from him."

Prasong groaned at the cruel trick. 'Hypnos' was a sleep drug, the only thing that could counteract the Nightmare Drug. The corner kids had to give all of their earnings straight to the Ringmaster anyway, but he guessed this way Lilia had even more of an incentive to earn a higher amount.

"Like I said," JJ nodded, "he's an ass."

"Has it worked?" Prasong asked curiously. "Has she been bringing in more credits?"

"Not if the screaming from her room is anything to go by," JJ shrugged, "think she might be stuck with nightmares for a while."

Prasong paused from where they were walking towards the food shack, "Hey, that kid we saw earlier..." He didn’t really want to bring it up again, but Prasong couldn’t shake the discomfort that JJ might be mad at him.

Prasong was aware of how he was seen by others, hardened and uncaring. The idea of JJ thinking that too made his chest constrict uncomfortably.

Prasong knew he shouldn’t care, JJ would never hold a grudge for long and probably didn’t analyse everything in the way that Prasong did. Yet there was something about the other boy’s genuinely warm smile whenever they interacted that Prasong wanted to preserve. He felt foolish, JJ’s smiles weren’t exactly rare, given freely to every boy and girl around the Circus site.

"Let's not talk about it," JJ responded quickly, his face darkening, "the Asylum got him back whoever he was. Probably for the best anyway, everyone in there's completely messed up."

"Who told you that?" Prasong asked, narrowing his eyes at the dismissive generalisation.

"I hear people talk," JJ replied, nodding to the milling crowds of Circus folk.

"Yeah?" Prasong snapped. "Well have you heard that they used to just stick helixed in there regardless of whether they'd started manifesting fractals?"

Prasong bit his lip as JJ raised his eyebrows. Before the fire, the workers at the orphanage had used to threaten Prasong with being sent to the Asylum. He still had nightmares that he would wake up there someday.

"It's where freaks like you belong."

Prasong shook his head with a sigh, "Anyway, that boy - did you see his rings?"

"No," JJ replied, "why? How many did he have?"

"That's just it..." Prasong murmured, "I could have sworn he had about five."

JJ snorted beside him, "Five? I think you're seeing things."

Prasong jerked his head to JJ sharply, only to see the other boy stop walking and wince. "Sorry - bad choice of words."

Prasong huffed and reached out to squeeze JJ’s shoulder, "It's fine. Forget about it - hey look, your fan club are here."

"Huh?" JJ frowned, turning round to spot a gaggle of other Circus kids waving at him. They were all thin and gaunt with their patched up clothes hanging off them like sheets draped over window pegged lines. The Circus seamstresses were forever bustling between them with pins between their lips, shedding bits of cut thread like a second skin.

"Can't help it if I'm popular," JJ grinned with a wink, "you should try making friends some time."

"I have friends," Prasong snapped.

"Who? Sakura? That girl clings to you like some kind of lost kitten."

Prasong sniffed and glanced round to see if he could spot the girl in question. Sakura had been in the City Circus years before Prasong had even arrived. She was a gang-pet, bought up from a Dragon District brothel to serve as a status symbol on the Ringmaster's arm.

The more pets you had and the prettier they were dressed - the more powerful and wealthy you were presumed to be. This didn't mean, however, that the chosen girls and boys themselves actually enjoyed a good quality of life. Like any other pets they were subject to their master's abuse and nightly whims.

It was a good day when Sakura appeared at Prasong's door without any visible bruises mottling her skin in shades of mauve and crimson shame.

"She'll be sad you're going," JJ remarked, bringing Prasong out of his reverie.

"What?"

"Well my guess is we'll be boarding at Bobik's residences for a while. I doubt the Ringmaster would have us cross three zones everyday for training."

Prasong cursed as he realised that JJ was probably right. "I need to go," he mumbled, beginning to walk off in the direction of the main tent.

"Hey what about food?" JJ called after him quizzically.

"I need to practise," Prasong replied with a shrugged gesture, "you heard the Ringmaster - I can't afford to get hurt at the moment."

"Well maybe if he bought you guys a freaking safety net you wouldn't have this problem!" JJ laughed loudly as Prasong rolled his eyes at him, rounding the corner towards the main enclosure.

Prasong knew that the Ringmaster would never install a safety net. He had insisted that it would make the act less exciting for the audience and encourage the performers to be more sloppy if they knew they could mess up.

That, and Prasong was certain that the gang boss' least favourite thing to do was spending money on the actual entertainment side of his business. There hadn't been proper maintenance done on the trapeze rigging for years. Every time Prasong climbed to the starting platform, he could feel the ladder groaning and creaking ominously.