Falling back against the hardwood pillar of another game stall, a gloved hand slides against the edges of porcelain. Before a child’s wail echoed through the bustling night. Dropping their hand to their side the figure bends down to swipe up a large rut sack, swinging it over their shoulders they quickly push through the crowd.
After a moment or two, the figure reaches a small boy. Bending down the child looks up from its sitting position.
“Wipe away those tears young one, why be the matter?” Pulling a handkerchief from their sweater and handing it to the child who takes it cautiously.
“I-I can’t find my mommy!” The child pleads through sniffling hiccups covering his face with his hands, handkerchief balled into tiny fists. Laying their hand on the child head, they pull away the handkerchief from his face and sniffle once more.
“We shall find her.” The figure says standing up, holding a handout to the child who gingerly takes it. Pulling them up off the dirt ground, they are quickly led through wondering eyes to the big top. Where a man that could only be presumed as the ringmaster stood out front arms out in a show of theatrics.
“Come one, come all, come see tonight for your eyes only! A man’s whose body defies all laws! Our one, our only, Man of a Thousand Arms!!” He bellows into the horn before him, his tailcoat sweeping over the small stage as he throws his right arm out to the entrance. Waving a hand over, the Ring Master smiles and steps down. “What can I do you for Milo my dear child?”
“Lost parent sir.” Milo quickly says ushering the child forward a bit with a soft pat on the back. The Ring Master nods, taking the child under the arms and lifting him up onto the stage. Leaping up himself he walks over to the center of the stage bellowing and motioning towards the child. Which with the luck of his voice a frail woman rushes over her hands out as the child falls into them.
“Rico!” Came a woman’s deep voice. Looking over his shoulder a pale woman with dark curly hair stands a few feet back behind the stage.
“Yes Lucy, my love? My sweet rose what is it you need this beautiful night?” Smiling the woman shakes her head, placing her hands on either side of her waist. Two crafted silver blades sit unmoved by her hands as she answers.
“It is time my love.” Her thick Russian accent dances across her words as she lifts a hand to motion towards the back of the tent. “Remy is waiting.” Rico nods, fixing his attire before turning to the rejoicing mother and her child. Bending down in front of them he smiles.
Nodding Rico flicks his wrist revealing two small green and gold trimmed tickets. Holding them out, the mother takes them with a look of confusion.
“Those two passes will get you into the other fair games with no problem. But be warned they will disappear at the end of the night so use them with leisure.” Rico explains, standing up once more. Turning he walks away, one hand digging through his pockets while the other swings idly. Removing a silver-plated pocket watch out he eyes the hands as he hops down. “Milo, could you get Remy and make sure he’s ready?
“Yes sir.” Milo mockingly salutes before fixing their pack and turning towards the back of the big top where a large variety of wagons in all shapes and size sit. Striding through, many other patrons and workers who joined us for the evening eye them as they pass. Reaching a navy blue and gold accented wagon they knock. “Remy? Are you up?” Before they could get a clear answer, the door flies open, and they are yanked inside by an invisible force.
“Why did I agree to this?” The thick French accent hits Milo and for a moment the words do not register their white orbs behind porcelain not giving much away as they turn to look at the other. That is when the word finally dawns on them.
“Oh dear, come now. No time for cold feet you were so happy earlier.” Milo pleads as Remy throws a pillow towards them.
“Do you see how many people are out there? This is the biggest show yet… And they keep staring at me…”
“Who?” Milo question quickly as the feeling of hands against their body dispersed leaving them to walk over to Remy who sits up, in the dark he looked like an average man. Scruffy facial hair, mahogany brown locks tied loosely behind his head, and clothes that ill fitted him as he softly glared Milo down.
“They are so one minded like a hungry pack of rats in search for their next meal. Only to find that we are no illusions.” Placing a gloved hand on the side of Remy’s face he lets out a calm sigh. “What am I going to do?”
“As we always do about those who do not understand. We be ourselves.” Milo responds, as their other hand takes the sleeve of his sweater. Pulling him onto his feet a smile splits over Remy’s face.
“You always know what to say… Thank you.” He mumbles, as Milo nods his head and with a soft tug pulls him out of the wagon.
“Now let’s get you to the big top, Rico is going to be really worried about us.”
“Yes, yes let’s.” He agrees as the lock on the wagon clicks. Stepping through the batch of wagons a familiar silk voice ring from above.
“It is time are you ready?” Looking up a pair of arachnid legs, slim and agile come from above the nearest wagon.
“Yukiko good to see you up and running around. Where is Katie?” Slipping down from the roof she lands before us, a dark midnight blue kimono against her soft skin, her dark hair tied into a bun as she motions with her hand over to the big top.
“She is at the stalls helping patrons this evening. Will be joining me for my show later tonight.” She looks over to Remy a smile gracing her features. “Are you ready?”
Shaking his head, Milo slips up behind him nodding ferociously. When Remy turns to look at them, they stop and keep walking. Yukiko starts laughing as we reached the back entrance.
Lucy stands holding the flap for us. Slipping inside the lights and soft murmurs reach our ears.
“Are you ready?” Milo asks fixing Remy’s sweater as the Ring Masters voice boomed through the people.
“As I shall ever be.”