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"Bonjour and Bienvenue, Ladies and Gentleman. I am Lady De Lioncourt and this is Cirque Du Freak. Before we begin our magnificent show this evening, I would like to tell you a little bit about the history of 'Freak' shows, and explain a few of my rules. Since Antiquity, visually unusual beings have been exhibited in public spaces. In parts of southern Europe there was formerly plied a nefarious trade in maiming and mutilating young children for the purpose of producing distressing deformities to excite pity and thus induce alms. An instance of such mutilation is made romantic use of by Victor Hugo in his story L'Homme qui rit. Later freak shows featuring a number of ‘monsters’ contributed to the success of travelling shows. For more than a hundred years, the sideshow was to become an indispensable appendage of American circus culture. The first one of its kind systematically organized was contained in P.T. Barnum's Great Travelling Museum, Menagerie, Caravan and Hippodrome and the countless imitations which followed in its wake habitually featured the same classic attractions, including the giant, the fat lady, the midget, the three-legged boy, the armless wonder and the thin man. Now, My "freaks" are not just visually unusual beings, but they are also performers with supernatural abilities. Now here are my rules. One, No cat-calling. Two, no booing. Three, I suggest you follow my rules or you will be public humiliated for the rest of your life. Don't under-estimate me," Aryanna said, "But don't worry, follow my rules and we'll get along just fine."
The audience is deadly silent before cheering began again.
"So I implore you, Ladies and gentlemen, Sit back, relax, and enjoy," Aryanna said before another puff of smoke appeared and she disappeared. She reappeared in the crow's nest like spot in the center pole.
"Our first act is the ever so wonderful Brody," She announced.
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"You look nervous, darling. Is something eating you from the inside out?" She asked, a slightly crooked grin was on her face. She had complete faith in Drendale. She looked down at the floor and then back up at him. What is his act exactly?
"What is your act for tonight, darling?" She asked again, "Follow me. You need a better costume. She headed towards the caravan where the dressing rooms were.
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“Drendale, do you need help with anything?” He asked cautiously while fastening a belt around his waist. “Can I be of any assistance before I go to the tent?” The expressionless mask turned to the both of them, the eyes beneath slightly worried. A nervous performer was never good. Never good at all. The boy needed something special—and Rire wanted to help!
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When her eyes first flickered open, grazing just over the ridge of the blanket, she groaned and dove under the covers. It was too late. Already, her body was waking up, eating away at morning grogginess. Well, that is, evening grogginess, seeing as it was late. Time for the show, eh?
Mira darted out from her small nest of bed coverings, wide eyed. "Yes!" She hissed with a grin, hurrying to the dressing area. Oh, whoops. There was Drendale, Rire, and Aryanna.
"Figures," she muttered under her breath. Then, raising her voice so it could be heard, Mira rummaged through the clothes rack and piped, "I, um, just woke up. Who's first?"
She grabbed the sleeve of her outfit, pulling it out of the mayhem. See, she wouldn't really mind the fact the costume rack was all wonky, if her outfit wasn't so frickin' delicate looking. It worried her every time she touched it that maybe she would rip it or a thread would come loose.
But, jeez, that's petty. She folded the cloth over her arm and pressed her fingertip to her chin. Was she that petty? She moved her hand away from her face and flashed them a smile. In her bones (heheh) she could feel it. Tonight is gonna be a good night.
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Rire put his attention back on helping Drendale. "Well...you, ah, you shapeshift, right?" He looked through the rack for something appropriate for that. "Into a dragon? That in itself is an act. Of course, you'll need something that's flashy but easy to strip out of..." Rire fumbled through the fabric until he touched something that held some weight. "You could probably mess with the trapeze if you wanted to." The red-cloaked boy pulled out a dark jacket with a somewhat decent amount of embellishments. "Does this suit your tastes?" He asked, holding it against the Drendale's form.
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They were fake, of course, much too light to be real, but the counterfeit emeralds and amethyst did well enough from afar. Besides, she only worked with the clothing intimately for an extended period of time, seriously.
Upon hearing Drendale's question about the trapeze, she almost nodded. She was 900% sure! Well, she was more about 60% or 70% certain, the more she mulled it over. Okay, maybe not.
"So, um, not to be off topic or anything, but, Rire... You're pretty handy with style. You've got discerning tastes, like you're our own personal fashion designer. Nice mask by the way." Mira chuckled softly, holding her costume to her abdomen. "So, I'll leave you and change. I think. Brody's up and theeeen...?"
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When Mira mentioned his sense of style the boy coughed, slightly embarassed. "I-I was a tailor in a past life. Thank you." Actually, he was a tailor's son. Still, Rire was still very experienced in the trade. "Oh and..." the boy rocked on his feet and half-laughed. "I could make you a mask too. If you'd like one, that is."
Suddenly jittery, the boy stumbled over himself. Suddenly, he was a little nervous as he wasn't sure who was up next. He hoped it wasn't him...that meant he was late to get to the tent. Startled, the masked boy turned to Lady Aryanna, asking the silent question.
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