Toan
Toan ran as fast as he could towards the pole in the center of the tent, ignoring everything and everyone around him, he had to remain focused, one false step and he could seriously hurt himself. Milliseconds before he ran into the pole he placed a foot on the vertical surface and proceeded upward, as if defying gravity.
"Higher, I'm sure I can do it," he thought to himself but knew it was no use. Just like every other time, after seven steps upward, gravity reclaimed its hold on him, forcing him to backflip gracefully, clothes billowing in the breeze and land crouched on the ground, one leg outstreched and both arms in the air.
"One of these days I'll get it," he muttered to himself, standing up and stretching his neck to the side before leaning back to place his hands on the ground, bringing his legs up till he was doing a handstand.
Before he could complete the slow flip a clown came up to him insisting that he try the high wire next. Toan's blood ran cold, he didn't mind throwing himself around like a ragdoll but the high wire was something he couldn't handle, for as long as he could remember he'd had a fear of heights, of course that wasn't something that could stop the show, countless times he'd had to push past the paralysis of his fear for the sake of the Cirque.
"Come on Twig, hurry up," said the clown as Toan completed his flip and slowly walked towards the ladder leading to the high wire.
With a deep breath he began to climb, keeping his eyes closed untill he reached the top. The ring spread out around him, he could see everything and everyone, Dezi and her brother Ian, the magician Kurt and the puppeteer, Casper. He was sure that everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to fail.
"That's a stupid thought," he whispered.
Turning his attention to the tightrope infront of him he tried to will his body forward and begin the routine.
"I can't do this!" he thought, closing his eyes and cradleing his head, "But I must."
Before he could think again he leapt into the air, landing on the tightrope, perfectly balanced. He began to walk along untill he reached halfway where he threw himself to the side, hooking his foot on the rope, allowing momentem to swing his body round in a full circle. For the next few minutes he continued to practice all of the acrobatic tricks in his routine before gladly climbing back down to earth.
"How did I do?" he asked the clown but he didn't wait to hear the answer, he was shaking from the effort it had taken to stay on the rope for that long. Silently he sat down in an empty chair and drew his knees to his chest. He hoped that nobody could see the tears streaking down his face.
Reina
She sat watching the others practice, the same two words of a song had been bouncing around her head for hours ever since Twig had shown her the dance he had learnt for it.
"Kalinka, Malinka," she sang quietly to herself. Kalinka, wasn't that the title of a russian folk song? She was sure of it.
Unbidden, the chorus burst into her mind.
Kalinka, Kalinka, Kalinka of mine,
In the garden a berry grows so sweet on the vine
Shaking her head the verses dissappeared. Things were definitely looking grim if she couldn't escape the noise even in her own mind.
"Rain, come and practice with us," said one of the other clowns, "It's meant to be a team effort remember?"
With a sigh she stood up, why did she have to be a clown, she didn't think she was that funny, he skilled didn't lie with jokes, it was with riddles.
"Why is a raven like a writing desk?" she asked of nobody in particular, quoting one of her favorite books.
"I dunno, why?" asked the clown who'd told her to join in.
"Well they're both flat of course," answered Reina, "My research showed that a ravens call is flat. Fascinating don't you think?"
"Yeah...sure" said the clown, "I didn't think that was meant to have an answer."
As the clowns began to practice their skit, Reina's thoughts began to drift again.
"Perhaps instead of being a clown I can be something else," she pondered, "I mean, my costume makes me more of a harlequin anyway, perhaps I could be a mystic or fortune teller."
She quite liked this idea, she knew she'd be able to brush up on or learn the skills for anything other than being a clown. Spotting Shaelynn from across the tent she began to make her way towards her, passing Victoria and several of the other "freaks" on the way. Freaks, what a dreadful name, calling the beings that made up the freakshow was about as wrong as calling her a clown which was to say in no way right. Finally she reached the ringmaster.
"Shaelynn, I was thinking about my role in the cirque," she said, "perhaps I could be something more than this."