Hiro Matazawa's Story

Wynmere stood, off and away from the others, warming up for when she would have to perform. Leg stretched high above her head, she watched the others run all about the "backstage" area, getting ready for their acts or getting out of the way of others who were ready to go on. Her wings hung slightly open, relaxing themselves before they would have to almost completely tuck themselves away during her performance.

She lowered her leg from its extended position and bent over, gathering her things in her hands to get ready for when it would be her time to go on stage. She slipped her Romantic skirt on, and positioned it accordingly. Her leotard was covered in all kinds of feathers and sparkles, and the headpiece mixed in with her blonde hair also had various feathers on it. The whole idea of it was to hide her wings as best as possible. She had also painstakingly spent time braiding sparkling pieces into her feathers, so that when the time came to show her wings on stage, they could really wow the audience under the spotlights. That was exactly why she had chosen a Romantic skirt instead of a traditional Classic skirt. The whole illusion of the costume was that it was continuous and flowing. A Classic skirt was simply too sharp for that.

Picking up her Pointe shoes, she made her way past Jane and Dezi, giving the group of performers a wide berth. She had been here a bit longer than Jane, and had noticed how sharp-tongued the girl tended to be. But she, too, was also relatively new to the troupe, and still didn't feel like she was quite a part of "the gang" yet. She didn't even know if there was that group feeling, as there had been in her previous troupe. She had noticed how everyone seemed to fall into their respective places. She was still trying to figure out where she fit in.

As she stood in the wings, though, all previous thoughts vanished from her mind. She was only focused on what was happening on stage, and she probably seemed just as captivated as the audience members.

Her mind soon wandered once more, and she found herself a place to sit for a few moments as she tied her Pointe shoes appropriately. Stretching her ankles a bit, she stood and put some weight on her toes, feeling out her comfort level in her shoes. Satisfied with what she felt, she turned her thoughts to her own performance, and ran thought it a couple times in her head. The one thing she didn't want to do was disappoint, as she had been so graciously accepted into the Cirque from her old troupe. There was no reason to go back to a place like... well, like the place she had been working in. Working with this Cirque was simply too good to give up.

Turning once more to stare at the stage, she stood next to Arella, watching the magician perform, still just as mesmerized by his 'tricks' as she had been the first time she saw them.





Hiro, on the other hand, was watching from the audience. He'd paid for his ticket, enticed by the prospect that there were actually people like him out there.

Huddled into a hoodie, the young man sat in the sea of eyes eagerly watching the stage. So far, he'd been impressed by what he saw, but the people he was most looking forward to were still to come. If he was totally convinced that this place could be of a benefit to him, he'd approach someone in charge. A warm, pleasant rumble began in his chest, but he quickly quieted his mind, and instead focused on the spectacular show before him.

Hiro's smirk grew as he watched the magician perform - he rather liked the 'tricks' he had seen. The man had made an audience member disappear, after all! It was definitely the best illusion he had ever seen. His eyes searched for a trap door or something on the floor, but didn't see one from his perch in the stands. "That guy is top notch..." he muttered to himself, wiggling himself a bit more into his hoodie. He was excited to see who would follow such a performance.

He was not disappointed with the puppet master who came on stage next. The male had a talent with kids, and he had a knack for jokes. The dolls were fascinating as well, as... well, they didn't seem to be attached to anything. He watched intently as the young male continued his performance, and clapped loudly when he exited the stage. "Wonder who's next..." he muttered. At that moment, a sort of smell caught him off guard, and glanced around himself for the source. He wasn't quite sure where the smell was coming from, but it disappeared almost as soon as it had shown up.

It wasn't long before his eyes focused on the form of a young woman, clad in all white, as she almost fluttered onto the stage. Her costume seemed to be covered in feathers and sparkles, and it looked like she was wearing ballet shoes or something of the sort. "Interesting follow up..." he muttered again, causing the person sitting next to him to give him a look. Hiro didn't notice, or at least ignored the person, as he concentrated on the stage.






Wynmere had watched the end of each of the acts before her, and as Casper came off the stage, she took a deep breath in, exhaling as she mentally prepped herself for her performance. Giving one final stretch to her toes, she walked on stage in the most elegant way she could muster. Arms extended in a form of greeting, she acknowledge her audience before taking her place on the stage.

The music began slowly and rhythmically, in an almost playful way. She began to move as she had rehearsed, slowly with the music; arms stretched to their limits, toes pointed perfectly. Her movements continued with the musics tone and tempo, eventually coming to a playful gait.

The crowd seemed almost surprised at the change of performance type. But her act was sort of meant as a calming one - in order to calm them from their "high" with the acts before, before the real show stoppers came on. They enjoyed it though, some trying to clap along to the beat of the music, while ultimately failing because of the frequent change of tempo.

Wynmere made a note as she continued to dance that she would have to ask Ave to play the violin in her act sometime.

As the dance came to finish, she ended with a large set of fouette turns, and just as the music came to its frantic end, she extended her wings as far as they could go, sending a wave of shock through the audience. Finishing in the most elegant and showy pose she could, she waiting for the applause to end before rushing off the stage with a bow.

Nostrils flared and large pupils dilated further. The smell of burning and whiskey was the only thing that could pierce the already existing smells. Silently they ducked back as Kat unknowingly stumbled into their temporarily little "territory". The sanctuary no longer allowed as much freedom of movement. A grumble went unheard as it didn't rise higher than the surrounding noises. Back to hiding and watching from a distance only it wasn't on their terms anymore. Teeth were bared, alcohol and burning did not allow comfort when smelled together, therefore it was best to just to grit teeth and withdraw back into the audience. Back onto the bleachers where there was a free space to sit. It now appeared to be a better option to hide in plain sight. Much to the vagrant's dissatisfaction. Should have just left. From down there it was only a few bounds to the hole in the tent and a few strides more to freedom.

Just when they were ready to risk being spotted to get away-something, someone caught their attention. To their eyes. Hiro stood out from many of the other cookie cutter people who sat and watched, enamored with the show. His hoodie did little to keep the cloth-laden figure from seeing his, rather different features. Like he should have been part of the show and not in the audience. Reflective eyes focused to almost piercing intensity. They didn't sit right next to Hiro. More like a couple people over. Acknowledgement of the staring or seeing the next act come on would be the only thing to break eye contact.

It grew increasingly harder to move around. It was like something was looming in on them. Corralling them into a shrinking space. Any distraction was accepted to help dissipate or take away focus on the feeling of dread. The figure clutches at something tied to their waist. A plush leg made of cloth much different from the rest of the fabric that they were wearing poked out from the side.