The Cabinet of Curiosities » Places

         

Having pulled the black, stretchy ring from his emaciated wrist, his other hand grasping his hair at its base at a high point on his head, he quickly tied and double tied his now long and golden tail. Florida had always been hot, which was something Matthaus never liked. Don't get it wrong, he liked it much better than the cold, because the cold made it harder on him when he stretched than the heat did, but he didn't have to enjoy the heat itself just because he hated the cold. Everyone got all sweaty in the heat, and although that doesn't bother him directly, the reaction it got is what did. Everyone always moaned and groaned all day and complained about the smell. Maybe not the circus itself, but there is always, and he meant always, is at the very least thirty different customers who complain.

Those who have been around in the Cabinet even half as long as Matthaus has had long gotten used to the stick of the perspiration and the stench of raised arms, for they all sweat even in the cold at times. It just got to the contortionist when those who watched had the gull to bitch about it. Those salty sardines who always packed every show (except maybe a few recent acts) never have seen a hard days work in their lives. And better yet, they pay good money to walk around in the sun all day, which one should get used too anyway since it's good for you, and they sit shoulder to shoulder to watch even warmer performers doing outrageously hot acts, sometimes with fire, and yet they still blame it on global warming and nature's revenge. If they can't even stand to sit in a tent for a few hours without melting, then why would they come in the first place? Things like that boil his water.

As well as strangers on the grounds.

Matthaus knew he had a crown too small for his head. Everyone did, or so he hoped. It helped keep his ego inflated after all. What good is one if it's not huge? As useful as an infected lab rat. But ego didn't mean his lens was any different. Paul thought the clown was strange too. Good. He wasn't the only one this time.

"Making us laugh
And banish that frown,
The simple duties
Of a clown." Matthaus glared over his shoulder, not too much unlike his reaction to Paul. He turned to Paul as if this was the first time he's stated the fact. "I don't like clowns."

But the day is still at hand and Paul didn't seem to get his joke. Good thing he didn't like clowns.

"No Paully, not your arms." Matthaus grinned, erasing any hint of a joke from his tone. But knowing Matthaus, he always quickly drew it back,"I was talking about your crap." He laughed, flinching comically at the nudge. The blonde's hand raised and placed over the tingling skin, his lower lip perching out in a bulbous fashion. "Ow. Some thanks." The lost stray look hardly worked on the eyes who has seen is more than it bargained for, but maybe that's what made it funny. And it was the humor in the sarcastic glance that made him laugh yet again, gently shoving the tall glass of nails back.

But back to the task at hand. The faster they all can get practicing the more money they'll make. And the more fun it will be. So Julian followed behind Paul with his head high, his discoloured eyes falling on the manikin girl along the way. The porcelain frame was admirable among any sane mind, it didn't matter what gender you were. If animals were intelligent, then it wouldn't even matter what species either. But since animals didn't have half a brain to admire beauty even if they bit into it, Matthaus had the sight all to himself and to enjoy it. Or so he always thought. She was, in technicality, Elsa's property, but the poor doll was no property at all. She was a magnificent display of personality and life, and he tried desperately to make the most of every moment he had with the walking perfection he could.

She was always quite though. The poor dear wasn't even heard by any pair of ears besides his, and that was only because he was listening. It also helped that he had learned to read lips over the decade plus he's been in this mystery box. Paul apologized for not having noticed her offer, but Matthaus tried to assure the poor figurine by waving with his fingers. They briefly reached his lips in which he blew the light kiss off with a soft breath, and it floated to the air in her direction. She then went off to do good somewhere else. The little do gooder.

"Looks good, Paully." Matthaus smiled at the open space. As Matthaus prepared to get the tent up, his ears tuned in on his instructions, not that he particularly needed it. It was just polite, he guessed. "Alright, let's get this bad boy up then." He lugged the hammer on his shoulder, setting up the first stake. He then started pitching the tent with the seal, hammering the stakes in and getting the tent ready to get the main post up.

In hardly any time at all, the tent was put up and ready for Paul's sleepy eyes. But now that it was, it had to wait until nightfall, because both their eyes were awake in the sun. Set up was usually the time of practice and casual conversation, usually while one practiced. There normally wasn't a whole lot of time between set up and the show, and never nearly enough time as Matthaus would like. But if Paul wanted to do something then he supposed he could spare a few moments. His cornblue eyes flickered around.

The first thing he came across was their gentle and clumsy giant, in which he responded with a smile and downwards chromatic scaled whistle. Next he saw Hecate with the clown he told off, and with the poor Aletea rushing away. "I don't like clowns. " He repeated. "Come, just for a second Paul." He waved a finger as he himself walked nimbly on over to the walking doll.

"Miss Applegate." He called, placing his hand on the furthest shoulder from him. He spoke in his signature, corrective manner that sounded more like satirical sarcasm than anything. "What have I told you about dangerous crowds?" The irony is that he never recalled calling clowns a dangerous crowd at all. He's stated he never liked them, but the general terms of crowds never seemed to come up. But speaking of things he's never spoken of as if he speaks of yesterday was yet another abnormality about him. Which was, indeed, normal.

"Beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return.
Beneath what seems a benevolent disguise
Perhaps is concealed a menacing surprise."

He loved it when two poems can come together like that. He's always loved Charles Bukowski, but his poems go so well with others to make a point. But Matthaus gestured to the blood stained rose as he spoke, however, not touching it for the sake that it might, heaven forbid, mean something to her.

Gifts from clowns are hardly gifts at all, but a slapstick waiting to happen.