Absinthe's Story

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Lola sighed and picked at her nails. She was leaning on one of the tent support poles watching the freaks all put in their last minute rehearsals for tonight. Lola was wearing tight black jeans and what was practically a black bra with extra straps attached. She narrowed her eyes as she saw the same performer forget her move for the fourth time in a row. The Circus had been in town for the last 10 days which the roadies had spent setting up the tent and infrastructure. So of course that meant the performing freaks had waited to the last minute to rehearse their performances.

"How are we looking for tonight?"

Lola forced herself not to jump in surprise. The Ringmaster was always very good at sneaking up on people and appearing behind you without you noticing. Lola would never get used to it. Without turning around, she replied, "Yeah. They've finished setting up. We have a fully booked show tonight and your freaks should be able to pull it together by then."

"We have a few VIPs coming tonight as well, so things better go well." The Ringmaster said sternly before soundlessly turning and leaving. They didn't even look over the performers rehearsing. The Ringmaster entrusted the running of the show to Lola, and they'd only step in after the show went badly.

Lola sighed after the Ringmaster left. As much disdain as she felt for the freaks, she couldn't just ignore them like she wanted. If they did badly tonight it was her ass on the line. The Ringmaster would blame her for anyone's failings. Then one of the acrobats fell and hit the cushioned mat they had laid down for rehearsals hard. Crossing her arms angrily, Lola took a few step into the center ring of the circus tent. "Get it together freaks!" She yelled out to the entire group making it quite clear she was fed up with them. Then she turned and left the main tent.

Lola entered the showgirls van. Every surface and wall space was covered in costumes, mirrors, wigs, makeup and glitter. Of course at the far end of the van there was the largest cleanest mirror, that had lights around it. That was Lola's mirror. She made sure none of the other showgirls dared use it.

Currently the van was empty, but the other girls would be coming soon to get ready. Lola sat down in front of her mirror and started applying another layer of makeup. Of course she was never seen around the circus without thick makeup on. "Lunch." Aubrey entered the van holding a tray of sandwiches cut into triangles. Lola scowled. Aubrey was 13. She didn't have an oddity and was too young to be a showgirl. So she did the same things Lola used to; giving out sandwiches, cleaning, passing message around etc. The way Aubrey was eyeing up the showgirl costumes and glitter reminded Lola of her younger self.

If her heart wasn't so frozen over she might have felt pity for the young girl. Caught in a venomous trap but too starstruck to see it. All Lola felt was bitter though, soon Aubrey would be old enough to become a showgirl and she'd be young and youthful whilst Lola found herself getting older and older. When would she be too old and end up being replaced by a younger girl?

"Leave." Lola demanded after taking a sandwich half. She took a bite and threw the rest in the bin. She had a bmi she had to keep too. She couldn't control her age but she could control her weight. Sighing she sat down and started prodding at her face. She had age lines she hadn't seen on her face only a year before.

Today was a pink day. Clarke rolled the hair chalk through her blonde strands while she chewed the last of her lunch. It was still weak in colour, not enough of a contrast to the pitch black of the rest of her hair, but it would do. To avoid a clash she wore mostly white, a simple top with a pink bowtie and a multi-layered, long skirt with intricate patterns. Somewhere between swallowing her food and putting the hair chalk back in its box, she even remember to put on her shoes.

Pink was for luck. Long breaks between performances always made her feel a little uncertain to step into the limelight again. Even though she practiced every day, knew the routines so well she could have done them in her sleep (blindfolded, underwater) the sense of fatality that came with a proper audience couldn't be practiced or taught. It had to be felt, the fear of failure bringing doubts galore, galloping in across her nerves on mighty steeds. All that said, the only way to fight it was to face it, and as she was now fully dressed she had run out of excuses to stay away.

She walked across camp rubbing traces of chalk off her forefinger and thumb. Pausing by the main tent she heard heard the sounds of the freaks going through their routines. Clarke shuddered. Some of those people gave her the creeps. It would give her a ridiculous amount of pleasure if she could somehow lure the bad ones into the tent all at the same time– then cut the rope and have them suffocate in the heavy, dusty fabric, helplessly grasping at the walls in search of an exit. Unfortunately that sounded like an awful lot of work, and she didn't even want to guess what the Ringmaster would do to her if she had succeeded.

Shaking her head, Clarke turned her tail towards the showgirl's van, arriving just in time to come face-to-face with a sandwich tray. Aubrey may have been on the other side of it, but that was irrelevant. Clarke's eyes lit up in an instant, "Ay, just what I needed," as she grabbed two sandwiches off the tray and proceeded to fit as much of a half in her mouth as she could. Reaching the conclusion that the sandwich could, in fact, be bent, she was soon able to push the whole thing in there. She raised the remaining sandwiches in her hand as both a greeting and a thanks to Aubrey, and proceeded to an overcrowded mirror in the van that she had claimed as her own– sparing a wave towards Lola as she sat down.

"How is it looking in the main tent? Are they ready?"

Oh, Lola looked like she was in a mood. It was sometimes hard to tell with her, as her emotive range could often seem to range from "angry" to "angrier", but then Clarke still had the greatest respect for her. She didn't know much about Lola, but it took some kind of strength to survive in this place, and Lola seemed to have it all figured out. Spread across the little table in front of Clarke were knick-knacks of various size and importance, some of which had at some point come in use for one purpose or another– but had then promptly been forgotten and gained a more permanent residence in front of her. Clarke picked at some false pearls while she chewed.

"I swear I heard a lot of shouting from there earlier," she said between bites. "Bet the twins were at it again."

Admittedly she was quite fond of the twins– they often brought a breath of fresh air into the room with them. Well, one of them did, anyway– but they seemed to be more of a package deal. You spoke to one, the entire fleet of acrobats followed. Clarke put the sandwich down on the table and picked up her make-up set. Now, she thought. What colours will we use today?

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Lola gave a tight smile to Clarke when she entered. "Hey Clarke." Lola looked back at her mirror and continued applying her makeup. If friends were something Lola had or cared about, she might have considered Clarke a friend. She was after all the person Lola was closest to in this circus. She also had her uses. However there was only so close someone could get with Lola.

"How is it looking in the main tent? Are they ready?" Lola pursed her lips in thought and made an exaggerated thinking sound, really dragging it out.

Then she did the finishing touches of her makeup before applying a light pink lipstick. Smacking her lips once in the mirror to be sure. "They better be. They've had ages to prepare," Lola glared at herself in the mirror as if she were looking at the freaks right at that moment. "If they're not I'm sure I'll never hear the end of it." Then Lola gave an more sinister smirk, "And then they'll never hear the end of it."

Lola then got up passing Clarke to grab her showgirl costume. "I swear I heard a lot of shouting from there earlier," Clarke said, pausing to take a large bite of her sandwich. Lola tried her best to hide the icy look she gave Clarke. She remembered when she was younger and could eat whatever she wanted without a care in the world. "Bet the twins were at it again."

Lola rolled her eyes as she basically peeled off her skin tight jeans. "Those two will be the end of me," She growled. Seriously, if it was up to Lola she would have gotten rid of all three of the acrobats years ago. The twins gave her a migraine and the girl -Nebula- was always complaining and taking time off for her pain. In Lola's opinion the girl just needed to suck it up. Of course it wasn't up to Lola. The Ringmaster didn't care much for the showgirls but adored their freaks. Pretty runaways are a dime a dozen, but oddities, they were the truly rare ones. Lola knew her worth to the Ringmaster was virtually nothing when compared to a freak.

Lola squeezed into her Head Showgirl costume. It was basically a corset, short skirt, fishnet stockings, ridiculously high heels, and little else. All in red and black. Of course Lola's had a rather long train to have her stand out as the Head Showgirl. She walked over to Clarke's mirror. "I'm thinking pink," Lola said nodding to Clarke's makeup kit she was still holding. It wasn't hard to guess what the colorful girl was thinking about. Lola picked up a ring among the clutter in front of Clarke's mirror and tried it on. "Apparently we got some VIPs coming tonight, you wanna great them?" That was another one of the showgirl's roles. To charm VIPs. It wasn't hard you greeted them at the front, laughed at their gross jokes and showed them to their seat. It seemed the only real qualification a showgirl needed was long legs and a convincing fake laugh.

"You'd better hurry up almost time to get ready for the audience." Lola returned the ring back to Clarke's stuff deciding it was too gaudy for her.

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"Those two will be the end of me."

Clarke smiled an amused smile, half because what Lola was saying was absolutely true, and half because the twins probably would have loved to hear her say it. She turned her attention to the make-up kit again as Lola put on her costume, her fingers playing over the multi-coloured set as the wheels turned in her head.

"I'm thinking pink," Lola said. Clarke paused for a moment, unsure what Lola was referring to. It didn't always occur to her that she had a face like an open book, but then her smile grew even wider. Today was a pink day. She applied her make-up with a practiced hand, mouth slightly open as the brushes glided across her skin, bringing an exaggerated portrait of life to her façade.

"Apparently we got some VIPs coming tonight, you wanna greet them?"

"VIPs? Sure, that sounds fun," Clarke scrunched her face up thoughtfully. "What do we know about them? Rich?"

VIPs were among the easier jobs she'd taken on since becoming a showgirl. It was amazing how many of them would be lost at the sight of her, and then she'd really have no trouble at all keeping them entertained until the show started. Every now and then she would pick their pockets– not steal their money or anything, just pinch little things they wouldn't miss. A lighter there, a coin, a piece of jewellery; Clarke wasn't looking to make herself rich by any means but she liked mementos. Even bad times had to be remembered, she figured. She was brought back to reality by the muted 'clink' of her ring being replaced on the table.

"You'd better hurry up almost time to get ready for the audience."

"Eep! I'm going, I'm going!" She sprang to life, searching for her outfit in the back. Soon she pulled it out– a simple thing, really– a downplayed version of what Lola was wearing, to make her 'lesser' position more obvious. She put it on quickly, returning to the mirror to make some final touches to her face. "Okay,"she said. "I'm ready!"

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"Eep! I'm going, I'm going!" Lola almost smiled as she watched Clarke fumble around for her outfit. Then of course Lola remembers who she is and goes back to her cold indifference. She watches herself in the mirror, using her pinkie finger to fix up a lipstick smudge. Then Clarke jumped in front of her to touch up her own makeup. Lola gave Clarke a once over making sure she looked fine and had everything, after all she was in charge of the showgirls and it was up to her to make sure they were all looking perfect. "Okay,"she said. "I'm ready!"

"Finally," Lola said with a fake yawn leaving the trailer, not bothering to hold open the door behind her for Clarke, she was a big girl. Lola walked over to the main circus tent, though the soft ground underneath was making it a little harder that usual. Every step Lola made her heels sunk deeper and deeper into the ground putting her a little off balance. Not that she showed any difficulty in her stride. No, Lola never looked like she was struggling at anything, she was one of those people who always had to look cool calm and collected. Even if she was regretting wearing such high heels, though they did make her legs look great.

Lola entered the main room with a scowl. Even looking at all the freaks wandering about put her in a bad mood. She pressed her lips into a thin line out of disgust, it was like she could even smell them. "All of you." She said to whole tent, she didn't yell but her shrill voice echoed about the tent falling down on all the freaks. "Playtime is over. If you're not ready now, I really don't think you'll ever be." Her voice was condescending and held an air of superiority she'd bestowed upon herself. Of course if any of them weren't ready and looked it on stage tonight then they'd be hearing about it.

"Go get yourselves ready. People are going to start arriving soon and I seriously doubt any of them want to see you all look so..." Lola trailed off and made a face that said more than words could. Then she turned her back and walked away. All the performers would be going to get their costumes and make up on back stage.

"You sure know how to make an inspiring speech Lolita." The voice was slow and cold. Lola held back her eye roll as she turned to face The Ringmaster. She knew eye rolls and sarcasm never really went down all that well with The Ringmaster.

She instead went for a bored look and a half shrug. "I know how to get things done around here." The she flicked her eyes over to Clarke, "Clarke's going to take care of those VIPs you mentioned. What should she know about them?" Lola said repeating Clarke's question from earlier, because truthfully she'd been given no information about them. Accept, of course, that they were rich. They were always rich. Money seemed to be the only thing that earned you value in The Ringmaster's eyes. That and being a freak.

The Ringmaster frowned for a beat before turning her eyes to her colorful showgirl. "Oh, right. Absinthe. The colorful one." The Ringmaster said the word 'colorful' was some serious disdain. Which when added with The Ringmaster's fully black outfit said a lot about them. The the Ringmaster turned back to Lola only addressing her favorite showgirl, completely ignoring Clarke's existence. "They are some friends with someone I know from the land of Italy. Possible Investors. Don't speak a word of English. The Ringmaster gave a dismissive wave like not being able to communicate would be no hindrance. Which kind of hinted that they were the more sleazy kind of VIP, seeming as Clarke would really only be there as someone to look at not to talk to. "She should take one of the performers with her, I'm sure they like to meet someone with actual talent." Then the Ringmaster wandered off, something or someone else of importance taking priority.

"There you have it," Lola said crossing her arms.

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Clarke followed Lola out of the trailers, only responding to her yawn with a fond half-smile. She grabbed the door as it swung towards her in Lola's wake, closing it more gently behind her and making sure she heard the 'click'. Walking as carefully and quickly as she could over the moist ground, she was glad she hadn't worn thin heels that day. From what she could see, had Lola been any bigger she would have been consumed by the earth.

She entered the main tent and immediately banished the frown on her face that had taken residence in the trip over. Instead she bore a soft smile, just in time to hear Lola's tirade ring out in the sudden silence of the room. Clarke's face remained mildly amused as the performers scattered, but at the appearance of the Ringmaster, her expression grew serious, even worried. Their elusive master had an aura of command that didn't sit well with her free spirit: whenever she arrived, the air seemed harder to breathe. Learning that she wouldn't be able to communicate with the VIPs wasn't too much of a surprise. Even the English-speaking VIPs were rarely interested in conversation– and even when they were, it was rarely conversation that required much thought. How'd a pretty girl like you end up in a place like this? She shook her head a bit at the memory. It had taken most of her willpower not to reply, Murder.

"She should take one of the performers with her, I'm sure they like to meet someone with actual talent."

The frown returned full force, with added grinding of teeth as the Ringmaster vanished. Pink day. Pink day. Pink day.

"There you have it."

"There it is," Clarke responded. She looked out at the remaining performers. "Now who would be more interesting to a gang of Italians?"

Her gaze fell to the twins, but she thought better of it. Although she got along better with one of them than the other freaks, she could think of one that would be better suited for this task.

"Hey, Levi! C'mere. I have a job for you."

Lorelai felt the heat race to the cheekbones of her face in a soft blush at the awkwardness at her actions. She wasn't quite sure why she had done it, but she knew that her friend had looked down and it made her worried. Ethan wasn't the happiest person, but she knew him enough to know when something was wrong. It was strange to see it, but not know. He usually talked to her about things that bothered him. She smiled shyly at him and her eyes apologized for making things uncomfortable. "Well I'm glad," she said, "We have a show tonight and I need you--the both of you--at your best. And I promise to be at my best to the best of my abilities." Her smile grew to full force at that. Then it faded as Lola announced that the time was coming for the show to start and they had to get ready.

She allowed herself to be pulled up by Brody, but nearly fell when she was released and Ethan pushed Brody away. She laid her head on Ethan's shoulder her just a moment as he put his arm around her. Then she reached back as if reaching for Brody's hand. "Let's go, Brody!" She called back to him. Her plan was to throw her arm around him when he came up beside her, but if he was still floating then it would be a near impossible task. She was glad Ethan's spirits seemed a bit higher now and walked with her friends to prepare for the show.

In their performance trailer, they had a multitude of costumes and Lori even had some waterproof make-up to wear for her water stunts. She searched her costumes for the perfect one before disappearing into a side room to change. She emerged in a bathing suit, and moved to the mirror to mess with her looks. She fluffed at her hair and held it up. Then she let it tumble down in waves at her shoulders. She sighed, pushing air forcefully from her mouth in a horse sound. "I have no idea what to do with my hair." She said to no one in particular. "It's easier to have up for stunts, especially after my water stunts, but down looks more showy."

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Levi was making a move for his trailer to get ready when he heard his name being called across the performance area. He turned, a bit annoyed, but smiling all the same. His grin became more genuine when he saw it was Clarke, aka Absinthe, coming towards him. She was probably his favorite show girl. Mainly because she was the nicest and seemed to enjoy shows for more than just the opportunity to make money. Which is somewhat what he figured Lola's motivations for working for the Ringmaster were, but he didn't think she got paid much more than the others... which was very little. "I have a job for you!" she said.

"What's up, buttercup?" he asked her. "I'm always up for a challenge. Does it have anything to do with the VIPs?" He had been asked to do a small performance for a group of the Ringmaster's VIPs before and so he assumed that since whatever it was was to occur before the main performance that's what it was. "Who are we entertaining today, gumdrop?"

Levi reached to put his arm around her shoulders, as he did with many of the other performers, but Larissa, his voice of reason, stopped him. "Don't. You don't touch the showgirls." She chided. "No matter how nice." He frowned and lowered his arm. When she looked at him, there was a smile on his face. He wouldn't let his thoughts show. At least, not at the moment. He had a showgirl on his side and he prefered to keep her there.

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Clarke had her reservations about the performers, but she found that some of them were far more tolerable in personality than others. While Lola preferred the cold, detached approach, Clarke always found it better to make friendly faces. After all, it was harder to stab a friend in the back than an enemy. Possibly there was also an element of sympathy in there, for she knew that a lot of the performers suffered from inexplicable ailments– sometimes a result of their powers, and sometimes not. Regardless, she beamed at Levi as she approached him, nodding at his first question.

"What's up, buttercup? I'm always up for a challenge. Does it have anything to do with the VIPs?"

"You win first prize, babe. Lola's asked me to welcome them, and the Ringmaster would like me to bring a performer along for some extra entertainment."

She saw Levi reach his hand up as if to put it around her, curiously pausing and looking as though he was listening to something, before retrieving his arm. It didn't show on Clarke's face, but she was thankful. "I'm thinking since you're not opening up the show tonight, the two of us can show them a good time? Maybe make some of their troubles disappear?" She winked, grinning at her own pun.

"Who are we entertaining today, gumdrop?"

"Some investors from Italy. Apparently not huge on conversation, at least not in anything non-Italian. Hopefully they're not too dreary– or drunk." Clarke visibly shuddered, thinking back to some previous times she'd entertained VIPs. After a few drinks, perhaps a few white-powdered trips to the bathroom to top it off, they could be awfully... grabby. And losing her temper was the last thing she needed with the hawk-eyed Ringmaster breathing down her neck.

"So what do you think, will you back me up?"

Levi walked beside the showgirl, nodding interest at the correct intervals. Entertaining VIPs was something often requested by the Ringmaster considering Levi was one of the more... normal? Basically, of the others, his was the least likely to cause any trouble with his "gifts". The twins would forget things, Lorelai's pain was unpredictable, and the siblings were difficult to control.

As Clarke explained the intended audience of VIPs, he frowned. Shit He thought, Italian? Of all the voices in his head, none of them spoke a word of Italian. Laurent knew french, Lucian often ranted in Latin (which always freaked Levi out), and Larissa could speak greek, but no Italian. He licked his lips and said, "Italian isn't in my arsenal of languages unfortunately." It sounded like a rejection of her request and he shook his head, hopefully dispelling her worry. "I guess I'll have to wing it." He said with a grin.

He led them to his own trailer and requested, "Clarke, could you be a dear and wait just a moment for me to prepare?" before disappearing inside. Whether she waited for him or not, he needed to change into his "costume". It was a simple tux with a white button down shirt beneath and a charming black bowtie. He slicked his hair back and slipped pure white gloves onto his hands.

Pushing the door to his trailer open, he exited and moved to follow Clarke to the performance location.

"Italian isn't in my arsenal of languages unfortunately."

"Oh man, this is going to be fun," Clarke said, ready to accept Levi pulling out of the gig. The ringmaster might not be to happy with her, but she wasn't about to force him into something he didn't want to do.

"I guess I'll have to wing it."

She responded to his grin in kind as they walked, brightening up considerably. So she wasn't getting abandoned. At least there was that. The fact that neither of them had a way of properly communicating with the guests, well. They'd both have to wing it.

"Clarke, could you be a dear and wait just a moment for me to prepare?"

She nodded absently, still trying to pull up a game plan inside her head. However, planning had never been one of her strong suits, and she got immediately distracted by a bird, making rounds in the air until the closing of a door caught her attention. Her gaze landed on Dezi's trailer a little further away, confirming it as the source of sound as it rocked gently from the person inside.

It was around then that the Ringmaster made their appearance, coming out of the main tent and walking over to the trailer. Clarke squeaked, running around the other end of Levi's trailer, poking her head around the corner. Hopefully she hadn't called attention to herself, as she was already supposed to be greeting the VIPs. The Ringmaster entered Dezi's trailer without a look in her direction, however, and Clarke allowed herself a relieved exhale.

Shortly after Levi appeared in his tux, heading in the direction of the main entrance. She ran forth to join him, stopping at his side and walking nonchalantly. She considered whistling, but decided on avoiding any further questions by pointing to the entrance.

"Lot of people out there today," she said. "I hope they're a good crowd. I remember a couple of years back when I was still an assistant, a bunch of assholes had sat themselves at the front and kept trying to distract the thrower."

She laughed at the memory. "You really don't want the guy throwing knives at you to be distracted," she said. "Still got the scars."

Levi smirked as he listened to the showgirl talk. "I can only imagine what that would be like Fortunately, my talent is potentially harmless." He thought for a moment before speaking again. "Would you like to be my assistant for the pre-formance." He smirked at his play on words. "You don't have to worry about sharp knives leaving marks on your skin." He grinned at her, his eyes taking on a dangerous glow.

"Levi!" Larissa's voice rang through his head and he winced. "Back off. You're probably scaring the poor girl." He shook his head hard, the dangerous look gone just as quickly as it had come. The only thing he could think was how badly he needed a drink. He kept walking, not caring if Clarke was following him or not. Once they got to their performance space, Levi watched the Italian VIPs converse for a moment. This time he waited for Clarke. She would have to start the show and he would follow her lead.

It was simple math. Sudden appearance of pretty girl - Italian language = possible entertainment. Sudden appearance of handsome male - Italian Language = possible threat. He could not appear a threat before the VIPs. The ringmaster would.. well.. wring him. "Show time." He said once Clarke was beside him.