Cirque de Tromperie

Zombie

Cranberries	34.2%	[ 13 ]
Rob	18.4%	[ 7 ]
Apocalypse	21.1%	[ 8 ]
White	5.3%	[ 2 ]
I don't understand any of this...	21.1%	[ 8 ]
Total Votes:			[ 38 ]

[secretshades]

◆ ʟocaтɪoɴ: Nearby to the taverns >>> The Orphanage xxxxxxxx◇ ϻσσɗ: Frightened, confused, and a little exhaustedxxxxxxxx◆ cσϻpaɴʏ: This girls....this troublesome girl.

The wind was sweet and warm against her face as she hurried through one of the back alleys, climbing up over a wrought iron fence to cross into a yard. She snagged her skirts on the spikes on the top, tearing the thin fabric of her tan overskirt and landing roughly on the other side, stumbling into the grass. Running was never her strong suit; she was thin, and a little wiry, not built for distance. But she had an affinity for heights, and a climbing skill that rivaled most. Her thin fingers could grip the spaces between bricks, and tiny holds to pull herself up onto the roofs of buildings and homes. She had learned the neighborhood well in her seven years living in the orphanage, so traversing the dark alleys and shady paths was second nature. She was nimble, she moved with cats-grace over gaps between houses, and quickly down the rain gutter to the front of the orphanage, one hand gripping the violin case all the way.


Nova stopped dead in her tracks in the light, seeing the girl by the gate in front of her. ”You…..you’re….from earlier. Look, I’ve nothing to give, even my years are borrowed. I must stay here. I can’t go.” She knew her song wouldn’t set them to sleep, not with how she had used it a few hours ago to put the children to bed, but she had hoped at least to manage a clean escape. Now they’d know where she lived, that horrible man would go through with his threats, and the children….she couldn’t bear to think of them suffering. ”I-”


She stopped herself when the girl began speaking, looking down at the cats surrounding her. They were recognizable, at least to Nova, who tried her best with what she had to make sure they never starved or froze in the cold winters. She set out scraps in the side alley from time to time, against the matron of the house’s wishes, and had the children build tiny shelters from scraps of cloth and old, worn blankets for winter. Some of the felines she had never seen before, crowding around the girls hands and feet, circling and rubbing against her.


How could she have known that though? That the cats…liked her? That she taught the children in the orphanage to pet them gently, and to be kind. ”I only did what was right. For them, for the children. I don’t care it if puts me out. I wanted…I only want the best for them. That’s why I have to stay here. I’ll sell my years till I’m dead in the ground if that’ will mean they don’t have to suffer. No child deserves this.” She had watched her father walk away from his life in favor of whore houses and banditry, leaving her behind in the blazing wake of her mothers death. These children deserved better than the hand she had been dealt, and she could offer that much to them. The debts would be paid, she was sure. She had never assumed they’d come collecting so soon, though.


”I know you think that this….circus is the best choice. Painless and quick servitude, forever indebted, timeless slavery, but I cannot just sign my life out and leave those I care about to suffer.” She set the case down at the foot of the stairs, taking a few cautious steps forward. ”They are just children. They have their entire lives ahead of them to chase whatever happiness, or accrue whatever hellacious life sentence as I, but please……I…cannot go with you. Not yet. Not today. ”





◇ σσc IF ANY




thymeast22

[thymeast22]

I believe it's time for me to become famous and out of place

I believe its time for me to move forward when I break through.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxȺѵᾳ ℳoɾᾳɳ, the ℒɪoɳ-Ⱦᾳмϵɾ

⌘ Location: Outside

⌘ Companions: Maiya, Morgan, Novalynn

Ava looked up when Nova spoke, stayed silent for the majority of the girl's rant. Her denial, her stark refusal to come. Ava found herself shaking her head gently. "You're right, they're just children with their entire lives ahead of them. But you have to let them live it. Give them the chance to play the hand they've been dealt. You can't solve all their problems, as much as you want to." Ava glanced away, hesitated. One of the kitten managed to get into her lap, and Ava smiled at the small body on trying to climb her and get closer.

"It's, hard. It's hard knowing that someone else sacrificed themself so you have a chance. It leaves you with all sorts of questions. Why? What if I'm not good enough to justify it? Am I doing what they would have wanted, what if they hadn't done it? What would be different? Would life have been better off if they hadn't?" Ava shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. She hadn't meant to say any of that, things she hadn't told anyone else. How could she? Her father had died to give her life, and in a way ensured she would have a long one because of the years she would have to spend paying it off. How could anyone be bitter over that?

"I'm sorry. Most of the other performers.... Only a couple made deals themselves. Most of us inherited our debts. I don't know anything about yours, or you. That's Morgan's thing. I just talk to animals, and make his life more difficult." A ghost of a smile curled her lips as she glanced up from the cats. "Some have family outside the Cirque, had a life of sorts before Morgan found them. Icarus and Rhythm both left their siblings, Paul his entire family. But, most of us don't have anyone any more. But, slaving away for Morgan? It's not as horrible as it sounds. You learn your act, and he expects the best. But when you're performing, it's an escape. It's just you and your act and the audience, and the world revolves around you while you use your gift and your skills to do the impossible. Tromperie is magic masquerading as the ordinary while we do the unthinkable. It's freedom. From society, from expectations, from struggling just to survive. We take care of each other. You have to, when you live with the people you work with. But it's a family of sorts. Even the newest members have found their place." Her smile grew more rueful.

"I grew up in with the Cirque, so I see things a little differently. But I didn't come to try and force you or convince you to run away with us. Mostly I wanted to apologize for ambushing you, and I didn't want to go back to the train. And the cats knew who you were and brought me here." Ava met Nova's gaze, winced when the kitten's claws bit into her skin. Well, what was one more scratch from a set of claws on her hands? She had plenty of scars along her hands and forearms from cats, one more wasn't a big deal.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
this time I'll make you proud to see me over, come on daylight
proud of who you raised up
you know that I will always be here 'til the end
I hope, I hope you smile when you look down on me
I hope that I make you proud
this is not what it is, only baby scars
I need your love like a boy needs his mother's side

secretshades

[Scrivener_Lost]

__________________________________________________мσяgαи νσи fαυѕтυѕ


"I'm not going anywhere unless you're with me!" Morgan watched as the woman attempted to bury her face deeper into his abdomen and he felt his annoyance renewed with her words, though not quite to the level of the heaving anger that had consumed him just seconds before. He had to bury that raging inferno inside of him because he knew, no matter how much spite and hatred he poured into his words, the alcohol's effect on Maiya was concrete and wouldn't allow for the woman to think logically. That was the true poison the drink. He could yell at her and scream at her until his throat was raw, but in the end the alcohol would only turn his words into either pure poison or pure bliss. And though pure poison would have served him better in his current mood, he technically didn't want either for the woman as clearly whatever was bubbling in her mind that made her act this way was apparently his fault. His chest continued to barrel in and out as he tried to salvage what little patience he had left to deal with this issue currently trying to assault him. "There's always tomorrow." Those words burned him perhaps more than she knew. There's always tomorrow...there's always tomorrow...what sort of illogical thinking is that!? I have far too many thing to accomplish tomorrow that could use the time spent chasing these contracts done tonight! He expected at least Maiya to understand how much work he truly had to deal with on a daily basis. She, of all people, knew how important it was for him to gain new contracts when they were in town. It infuriated Morgan to no end to think that she would rather think of herself and her petty physical desires than to understand how important that contract was that she just lost him. The mere thought of Novalynn escaping him sent hot sour bile up his throat again and it took everything in him to prevent himself from reeling in anger once more. But he could not help the utter look of disgust plastered on his face as Maiya continued to coo and press up against him. But no sooner had he looked away was when Ava up and disappeared.

Morgan's eyes grew wide as he tossed his head from side to side, searching for the auburn haired child. I...Ava...where did she... "A-Ava? Ava! Come back here!" Morgan called into the dark streets. when no reply came back, the Ringmaster felt a growl crawl up his esophagus and he struggled to pry Maiya from him. "Ava! Damn it, Maiya! Let me go! Ava!" His hands slid against the smooth cobblestone now as Maiya pressed herself against him now, her arms tightening around him like a vice. "You're stuck with me tonight honeybun~!" He glared down as the cool night air brushed against his exposed abdomen and for a moment, he felt a brief brush of red cross his face. The sensation of having his stomach exposed was not something he was used to as he made sure to be constantly clothed and properly so. He let out a heavy breath as he continued to try and wrestle from her grip, his eyes shooting up as a woman happened to pass from the tavern into the streets. There was a instantaneous feeling of hot raw energy that shot through him as eyes briefly met her's before she turned and continued to walk down the street, a long trail of thick tobacco smoke snaking behind her figure. Morgan quickly uttered his spell and once again, the street lit up with the colorful threads of fate. I knew it! Morgan watched as the woman receded into the faintly lit street, deeper into town, her thread of the color of an unclaimed contract. She is the second one! For a moment in time, Morgan forgot about the woman pawing at his body and he struggled to get to his feet, finding a sudden, but brief surge of energy that managed to get him back onto his feet all the while dragging Maiya up with him. In the back of his mind he knew he had only two options: ignore her and drag her along or just deal with the woman and bring her with him.

"Why don't we just go back to your room on the train, and we can talk out all our feelings! It'll be some great, nice needed, bonding time surgar pie~!" Gathering the Knife-Thrower in his arms, he draped one arm over his broad shoulders and wrapped his arm behind her. He was thankful for his height as it was easily used to carry most of her weight. As he tested his right knee, he decided it would be healed shortly and he could carry on with this hair-brained mission. "You are lucky I don't just dump you on one of the tables inside that tavern and make someone else drag you home," Morgan hissed to Maiya as he stumbled after the woman. This night is clearly hell! Ava is gone and now, here I am...Ringmaster of Tromperie, crawling after some woman with another clawing at me... And though any man in his right mind would clearly be in heaven at this moment with a woman like Maiya fawning over him, Morgan had far too many distractions to deal with that sort of thing. Namely; the contracts that were currently escaping him and the daughter that refused to listen. He hadn't even been able to touch the woman's thread and find out the information that he needed and he wouldn't be able to with Maiya caught up in his arms. "Ma'am! I beseech thee! Halt for one moment!" Morgan called out. He hoped he had caught her attention enough for him to catch up to her, though careful not to encroach upon her personal space. By the simple looks of the woman, Morgan figured he would have a difficult time defending himself against her if she fancied the idea that Morgan was to cause her harm. Instead, he stopped a few feet from her, his face slick with sweat as he carried Maiya through the street, his adrenaline surging beyond what he was currently capable. He was tired. Beyond tired. And he was still pushing his body. "Please forgive this unsightly manner of mine. You see...my friend here is in the way of the drink...I need to bring her back home. I had hoped to speak to you on better terms...however, that is not the case unfortunately," Morgan said, his golden eyes flitting back to Maiya, then to Rylee once more. "I extend to you a free pass to the infamous Cirque de Tromperie tomorrow. I believe you will find our performances extraordinary, even if it is not to your palette. But I can promise you this, it will change your life. Please take this offer." Morgan attempted to bow, but it was sloppy and clumsy at most while holding onto Maiya. He gave her a curt nod before turning away from her. "I promise you it will be worth your while." He felt foolish. He felt ridiculous. And so he had to make a quick retreat. He only hoped that the woman would come to his call.

Morgan's mind was reeling by the time he had managed to near the tavern once more. Ava was gone, Maiya was becoming an increasingly frustrated problem, and not only had he lost one contract, but he had let another one go. The Ringmaster could hear his pulse in his ears as he began the arduous task of bringing Maiya back to the train, his heart in his throat now as he blinked back the biting sweat of frustration and physical fatigue. I can only hope he doesn't hear of this...if he gets word... Morgan shuddered and he hefted Maiya up as she continued to slip from his grasp as she continued to make it awkward and nearly impossible to walk with her unbreakable grasp. What a sight the two must have made; a drunk woman hanging on a clearly irritated man who paid no heed to the lustful calls the woman made. Morgan was only grateful for the lack of people as he continued down the street unseen. It wasn't until he passed a small tea-shoppe, late to close for the night, that he saw the street illuminated palely in the dark. He paid it little heed as he approached the small rectangle of light and only when he stepped into the small fracture of illumination did he pause. He wasn't sure what made him look. Hell, he wasn't even sure it was any thing at all. An inkling. A feeling perhaps. A strange little calling in the back of his mind like that of a fly buzzing around your head. All he knew was that when he paused to look in the odd display, he saw a face staring back at him through the window. The Ringmaster stopped fully now as he lifted the arm that was holding Maiya to block part of the light illuminating both of them now. Sure enough, a strange face was peering at him and he might not have even bothered to stare had it not been for the smile. The instant the figure's pearly white teeth were revealed to the Ringmaster, something in him shuddered. It sent a cold bolt through his brain, seizing up all logical thought and reason as he stared blankly now. The light coming from behind the figure was far too bright to make out discernible features, but that mattered little. The figure was simply standing in the window, and perhaps it might have even been a manikin had it not been for the subtle rising and falling of its chest. No, it had to be his imagination. There is...there is something...familiar about that smile though...who...? "Who..." Morgan blinked now, his eyes unable to deal with the fading light and when he opened them again, the figure in the window was gone. Morgan rubbed his eyes and looked back to the window, but there was nothing. What...what was that? The Ringmaster squinted now, trying to discern what he could have possibly seen. However, the lights promptly were displaced and soon, the Ringmaster and Knife-Thrower were tossed into near complete darkness and all that stared back at them were their reflections. Morgan stood there for some time with nothing but Maiya and his breathing to break the silence. Its...its got to be nothing...I'm just exhausted...yes...its the fatigue... Morgan placated himself with uncertainty.

He found that perhaps a little more eagerness had been introduced to his steps after the odd scenario with the tea-shoppe window as Morgan made his way out of town and towards the train. He continued to glance over his shoulder a few times, his eyes and ears searching for any sort of hint to the source of the odd hallucination. But after awhile, his logical mind simply decided that yes, it was indeed due to fatigue. Besides, he couldn't even recall why that smile had made him so nervous. He could neither place a name nor face to the eerie grin. After a long while, Morgan had to pause for breath, just barely outside of the town and still a good ways from the circus grounds. As he stood there in the light of the moon, he gazed down at his ward and he wondered if he could inquire the woman in his arms if perhaps she had seen the same thing. But by the looks of the red blush on her face, he could assume that the alcohol would take care of any sort of memory or logic. Her words echoed in his mind now, "...A man such as yourself I am sure is lonely and desperately craves attention. I've been trying desperately to give you it for so long. Yet you resist. Always resist," and Morgan once again found himself growing irritated by her claims. I don't know where she gets the idea of grandeur from! And before he could stop himself from speaking, Morgan finally pried her iron grip from him as he held her at arm's length. "I don't know whats gotten into you, Maiya, but your drinking is a problem that needs to be addressed. I had no qualms with it until now...you and Ava both managed to deny me not one...but two contracts...This whole...desperate act of yours must stop," Morgan growled. The moonlight managed to catch the golden hue of his eyes and they shimmered brightly as he stared down at Maiya. "If this has something to do with your soul, then by all means I shall return it to you like I had offered years ago."




In the nightfall you will be a thrall , Of his evil lies cruel nightmare like black prayer full of scorn and vice
The end of the balance is your defeat while you dance the Devil’s suite , Climb the tower it’s the hour
Dream the reality out your flesh husks in the soul dusk
come your agony
You’re falling down so falls the mask
it’s time to answer and ask



Location::In Front of the Tavern w/ Rylee, Maiya, Ava --> Just Outside of Town w/ Maiya
Tagged:: Ava, Maiya, Rylee,


Cynosural Cataclysm

fangbanger18

[Cynotastic]

『ωɪтʜ: Morgan 』xxxxxxx 『ʟocaтɪoɴ: Morgan's Arms 』xxxxxxx 『ϻσσɗ: Emotional 』xxxxxxx『σuтғɪт: [x] 』

When the Ringmaster swept her up off the ground and into his arms. Her hand tightened onto his collar, and balled the fabric into her hands to ensure that shaking her off would be a much more difficult task than the man originally mentioned. "You are lucky I don't just dump you on one of the tables inside that tavern and make someone else drag you home," "It wouldn't surprise me." Maiya slurred back in response to his claims. It was clear the alcohol was making her mood a bit swingy, and that the high from initial contact with Morgan was wearing off. As he journeyed over to another woman, Maiya began to get distracted with the various bits of the man her fingers could touch.

Releasing the grasp on his collar, her hands traced it, then found the ribbon in which the Ringmaster used to hold his lengthy hair back. A mischievous smile crept to her lips as she temporarily pondered the next plan of action. Her thin elegant fingers grabbed one of the ends and began to tug at it. Though, she hadn't actually removed the fabric from the man's hair until he seemed to be trying to bow, which caught Maiya off guard. Due to that, her hands pulled at the bow, causing his hair to fall loose, then her hands grasped tightly onto the man's clothing to prevent herself from falling. If anything it probably added to the ridiculousness of the man. Regardless, it brightened her spirits a bit, as she bounced in his arms as the pair of them journeyed away from town.

With the rhythmic movement, her mind was also wandering. 'Is this even working?' was the main thought that stumbled into question. Granted, it had got her more attention from The Ringmaster in an affectionate way than she had gotten for awhile. Though, was it really working? Or was it simply an illusion from the alcohol consumption? It was harder for her to discern the reality and the haze of the liquor. Regardless, her hands began their journey of wandering after she tied Morgan's ribbon around her neck like a collar. It was a cute pattern, and so she figured the cute fabric would look great on her slender neck. It was as though her maturity had taken a dive the longer she was held in Morgan's arms.

Then, the man stopped. Her face twisted into slight irritation as the man seemed to be trying to get a good look at something. Then, uttered the word "Who...", which felt so oddly out of place. Maiya tried to find whoever he was searching for, though her vision was blurred, hazy, and traveling more than she felt her eyes could keep up with. Therefore, it was a failed attempt. So, stumbling out of her lips was the rude remark of: "What? Find that woman you've been chasing for years?" It was spat with a rude tone. Regardless, it was fairly true to her own hatred of that woman.

When they continued their journey, and Morgan spoke up once again. "I don't know whats gotten into you, Maiya, but your drinking is a problem that needs to be addressed. I had no qualms with it until now...you and Ava both managed to deny me not one...but two contracts...This whole...desperate act of yours must stop. If this has something to do with your soul, then by all means I shall return it to you like I had offered years ago." Her eyes met with his own golden gaze. Letting out a breath of irritation. She opened her mouth to speak.

"You." She began. 'Were his eyes also so beautiful and golden?' A passing thought before she continued. "You are what's gotten into me. I've been with you for a hundred years! Yes, I know you give me a bit more freedom than the other performers. That isn't what I want." She paused, biting the inside of her lip. "In this never ending life of changes - different faces to call family, different places, so many years and memories. The only thing I've had constant in my life is you." She paused, her eyes starting to tear up. Her red-stained eyes moved up onto his hair, the bright shine of the moon illuminating the grey strands entwined in his hair. It was clear her emotions had a strong grasp on her on this point. "I want something the same." Hesitation. Was this really where the knife thrower wanted to go in conversation? Yes. Yes it was. "I want someone to love me, settle down, make a family with." Another pause. "I either need my soul back - so I can find someone who wants me... Or... Someone who I want here will finally move on from their past, who they craved for years that they can't have.... And realize, they want me too..."

A few teardrops fell from her eyes as she looked away from Morgan again. A soft sniffle escaped as she felt her nose start to run as the sadness took over the mixture of emotions that were spinning around her mind. "I..." No, she couldn't say that now. "I..." It was so tempting though. Alcohol made it feel like it was the right words to state after coming clean and stating all that she said. Plus, it would make it plainly obvious who she was speaking of. "I..." 'Love you.' She didn't say it, but thinking that she had made her feel a bit better.

Her eyes sealed tightly as she waited for the response from the Ringmaster. Maiya tried to calm herself, so that more tears wouldn't flow as she poured her heart out. She tried to keep herself appearing fine and alright, but it was such a struggle her emotions were leaking out of her face, and it was very hard to contain it. Some more sniffles came from the woman. This wasn't how you told a person how you felt about them! 'This isn't how you make people respect you, sniffling and crying like an idiot because of sharing your inner feelings!' Her mind began to beat at her as she moved her hands to her face to hide her expression. The alcohol wasn't helping anymore, it just made her an emotional wreck.


『σσc: OH MAN. 』

[Scrivener_Lost]

__________________________________________________мσяgαи νσи fαυѕтυѕ


The minute the accusatory tone shot from her mouth, Morgan felt his stomach tighten in uncomfortable knots. He had never been good when it came to dealing with women and their wildly fluctuating emotions. That much was evident even before Maiya had really begun to sink her teeth into Morgan, trying to pry from him his secrets and hidden desires. Even by the time Ava had hit puberty, Morgan had been massively unprepared for the terrible ocean that was of the female mind. It was a frightening and terrifying place and it left little for Morgan to wonder why so many men in his troupe preferred each other rather than spending a thousand soul-less years with a churning and violent beast known as a female. They were impulsive, dangerous with their words, and even more terrifying with their bodies. They compelled men with a strange power that very little could withstand. Even in the last few years when he had felt his resolve begin to slip, Maiya had been more close than she realized to receiving the affection she desired. But the Ringmaster was a strong and stubborn man. And devoted...loyal... He had to remind himself as he stared down at those fierce red eyes. They burned through him like nothing could, tearing at his mind and heart like the claws of a flaming beast. Much like Ava's own terrible gaze, Maiya had a look in her gaze that was akin to that of an icepick heated over an open flame and cooked until it was nearly white with hot searing passion. She used that weapon against Morgan, jamming the pick into his mind and torturing him with that burning pain as she attempted to split him apart, peeling back the layers of his mind and soul. It made him nearly sick to think of how easy it was for her to get so close...if only Morgan's walls of ice cold fortitude weren't as absolute and rigid as he made them. He had far too many years of practice throwing up those walls in defense, but if it were not for Maiya and Ava, the Ringmaster would be nothing but a moving steel fortress in which there would be no empathy. Even now, as he faced her, his ribbon around her throat as she was attempting to rend those carefully placed walls from him once again.

"You are what's gotten into me. I've been with you for a hundred years! Yes, I know you give me a bit more freedom than the other performers. That isn't what I want. In this never ending life of changes - different faces to call family, different places, so many years and memories. The only thing I've had constant in my life is you. I want something the same. I want someone to love me, settle down, make a family with. I either need my soul back - so I can find someone who wants me... Or... Someone who I want here will finally move on from their past, who they craved for years that they can't have.... And realize, they want me too..." Morgan could not truly say he knew just where this sudden flood of emotion was coming from, but he could not deny that what the woman said did not grip his heart in so many unfathomable ways. In a moment of forgotten composure, the moment the words I need my soul back came from her, Morgan took in an unguarded breath. Those words, those very words were the Achilles tendon of the current mindset of the Ringmaster. Had she said this twenty-one years ago, thirty years ago, fifty years ago; the Ringmaster would have placed the soul pearl back into her hand without a second thought and let the woman go on her way without a second thought. But now....now it was different. Little did the troupe know that over the years of tempering not just by Ava, but by the whole Cirque had formed Morgan into a man that was massively different than his past persona with one of the main differences being his conflicted nature over the exit of his troupe from his presence. "...a man such as yourself I am sure is lonely and desperately craves attention... Morgan felt his face burn in petty rage as he tried to block her words from his head now. He felt the muscles in his face twitch as a snarl began to form. He didn't want to deal with this now. He was now fully regretting his decision to stop and address Maiya's issues ...or are they really your issues? The Ringmaster shut his eyes tightly as he tried to will the thoughts away. No! I will not accept this! Stop thinking about it Morgan. Just take her to the damn train and go to bed. The only reason why you're even considering her words is because you're exhausted. You're seeing things...hearing things...thinking things that do not need to be considered!

But when he opened his eyes, Maiya was still staring at him, expecting an answer. What does she expect from me? Why...why must you cast your affections to me? "...I am not worthy of them..." Morgan found himself muttering before he could stop himself. If it is her soul she truly wishes...then that is... But he could not bring himself to admit what his mind wanted him to. Admit what? That I cannot give her soul back? Of course I can...it is simple...routine...I've done it a hundred times before...Why then...why is it so hard to hear those words come form her mouth? Sure, there is nothing more that I fear than hearing those words from Ava...Maiya...I had never considered it. But as I stand here now, living and breathing this reality...I find that...it hurts me more than I could possibly know. Why? Why does it hurt to hear those words? Is it truly because she has been the only one...to stay? Morgan inwardly berated himself. For years now Morgan had come to the conclusion that there was no way a woman of Maiya's taste and desires would ever consider staying around the Cirque. Ever since he had first come across her with their...unique introduction, Morgan had decided she would never truly ever want to stay longer than her debt required. She was far too flighty and her insatiable lust for...well, life in general had been far too wild for Morgan to deal with. And yet...she stayed... But there was no room in Morgan's logical mind for him to come up with excuses for her actions. He had simply accepted that Maiya refused to leave. He had never once given a thought as to why. The only remotely logical reason that he could come up with was that she had not managed to accomplish her self-appointed mission to delve into Morgan's secrets and expose him for all to see. He could not even remotely fathom that it would have something to do with...affection. Even so...why should you care? Its not like you've only spent the last hundred years pushing her away...

You've got no right to sit here and refuse to give her soul back. But the more he thought about it, the more his imagination ran wild with the idea of being free from this woman's tyranny, the more his chest hurt. Why he could only see himself actually missing the woman's stubborn interaction and her crude innuendos, Morgan knew not. They are only contracts...just temporary vessels under your control... So then why do you think you have a right to be upset when they leave? You don't. That's right. Stop your prattling and just give the woman her soul back so you can be rid of this web of lies you continue to weave. You've no need of her. You've got a talented army under your control now. Morgan winced as a sharp pain fissured just behind his right eye and he let out a shaky breath. Tired...just tired... But still Maiya insisted on having this conversation and though now a headache was beginning to form, Morgan could only hope it came from the bump to the back of his head and not something else. But the woman seemed continue to take that icepick and heave it over her shoulder for yet another powerful blow against the Ringmaster. "...Someone who I want here will finally move on from their past..." The Ringmaster felt another sharp pinch of pain just behind his eye and he felt frustration build. She has no idea... 'Maiya...you have no idea..." Morgan hissed under his breath, but his words were lost as she began to stutter over her words, the Ringmaster ultimately deaf to whatever she was stammering about. His heart was painfully thudding in his chest now. Why...why must she bring this up? Morgan thought as he gazed at her now. She was hiding her face and a painful image flashed before him, seeing someone very familiar doing the same exact thing...for the very same reason. Because...I do nothing...but cause pain... Morgan thought forlornly.

"Maiya..." Though...I suppose...this is more of your fault than theirs... "This is the alcohol speaking...but if it is your soul that you truly desire...then I can give that to you. But I cannot give to you what you ask of me...you're not in your right mind, you do not know what you want. I have never known the Maiya that stood up to me so long ago...to want stability. Besides...you're a free spirit. You don't want to be chained down to one person...especially a man," he said softly, offering a placating smile. Though what he did say was true, he knew that deep in his wording, there was a denial of understanding her words. He understood them quite well, but in her inebriated state, it would be easy to compose an argument that would void what she thought she was telling him. He sighed and hefted her higher, losing a bit of grip as he had delved into his thoughts. He turned towards the direction of the train now, a cool wind picking up his silver-kissed ebony locks. "What you want is sleep..." He stated as he tried to pull her along.




In the nightfall you will be a thrall , Of his evil lies cruel nightmare like black prayer full of scorn and vice
The end of the balance is your defeat while you dance the Devil’s suite , Climb the tower it’s the hour
Dream the reality out your flesh husks in the soul dusk
come your agony
You’re falling down so falls the mask
it’s time to answer and ask



Location::Outside of Town w/ Maiya
Tagged:: Maiya


Cynosural Cataclysm

[Cynotastic]

『ωɪтʜ: Morgan 』xxxxxxx 『ʟocaтɪoɴ: Outside 』xxxxxxx 『ϻσσɗ: Emotional 』xxxxxxx『σuтғɪт: [x] 』


"...I am not worthy of them..." 'What does that mean?' She thought upon hearing his muttering. Due to her being in his arms, it was easy to hear the words. However, it was harder for her to understand. Her throat felt like a giant rock was forming within it, and any more words that flooded out of her mouth would push the rock into her eyes, forcing more tears to flow. The Knife thrower couldn't let that happen, so she kept to her silence. Hands pressing against her face trying to keep herself someone calmed.

But, it wasn't working.

'Maiya...you have no idea..." This phrase started to fill her with hope. 'No idea of what? Your feelings?' She thought to herself. Of course she had no idea what he felt. That was the whole reason she approached the man herself. That was the whole reason she ranted and let the man know what she was feeling - because she was oblivious. The only thing that Maiya was aware of was the fact that she had been pushed aside for that other woman. Swallowing her saliva, she felt the rock of tears still in her throat, and the ribbon tied around didn't help push it away. If anything, it made her much more aware of it being there. Though, it was after a bit of a pause that Maiya discovered that the tone that Morgan held with that phrase was far from something to inspire hope. If anything, it sounded more like a snake, trying to con her into moving closer to a fatal bite could pierce into her skin.

Then, more words came from the Ringmaster.

"This is the alcohol speaking...but if it is your soul that you truly desire...then I can give that to you."'No.' "But I cannot give to you what you ask of me...you're not in your right mind, you do not know what you want."'No, no no no no no no no.' Her mind began to race rapidly. What was Morgan saying? This wasn't what was supposed to come out of this conversation. "I have never known the Maiya that stood up to me so long ago...to want stability. Besides...you're a free spirit. You don't want to be chained down to one person...especially a man," The repetitious 'no's began to flood from her mouth instead of across her mind. "No. No. No." They continued flowing behind the words following Morgan's initial statements. "What you want is sleep..." She paused her disagreements as she took another gulp of saliva. The rock was still there. "You are wrong." She spat. He couldn't be more wrong. Maiya was well aware of what she wanted. She wanted him. Period.

"People change. Especially after a hundred years." Liquid was flooding her eyes, and trickling down her face. Snot was also running from her nose, Maiya was not upholding her typical appearance of beauty. She looked awful. Pushing against the Ringmaster, she got herself out of his arms. Tumbling down to the ground, she pushed herself up - coughing between trying to snort up the loose mucus that was falling from her nose, and her arm rubbed against her eyes trying to remove the tears that just never stopped flowing. "Just as you have changed, I have changed." She rose to her feet from the ground, angry eyes burning into the Ringmaster. "I am well aware of my desires. I want someone to make a family with. I want someone who I can share all my feelings with, who won't just discard me when they have work to do. Someone I can help get through their own rough times." She coughed a few times as she started to take strides forward, her steps were still wobbly putting on display how under the influence she was. "I want someone who would like to be there for me too. I figured since you've been stuck with me for so long you'd have some understanding. I guess not."

With that, she took a few more steps into the night. She wasn't particularly sure where the train was, or even where she was heading. At this point, she was so caught up in her emotions - anger, lust, love, desire - she didn't even care what she was doing. All she wanted to do was find someone who enjoyed her company enough to help her through her troubles.

Apparently, that person was not Morgan. "Maybe I am better off just leaving the Circus!" The knife-thrower shouted back to where she had come from - hoping that Morgan would hear it.

[WhatTact]

▌│█║▌║▌║xx P Y R R H U S xxA L E X A N D E R xxG R E Yxx║▌║▌║█│▌xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
T h exxxxxx F i r e xxxxxx B r e a t h e rxxxxxxxxxxxx
Be careful making wishes in the darkxxxxx
______________________________________________________________________

Pyrrhus raised his eyebrow when Damuron was suddenly apologizing for Aloise when the woman clearly wasn't sorry herself. "It's not your fault she craves attention." He placated, waving his hand dismissively, smoke trailing behind it. Getting called out on getting too comfortable with Taubryn was interesting though. Perhaps the little doctor was more bold than he gave him credit for. "You think it's comfortable draped across the blue haired b*****d?" He asked with a grin, ignoring the way that Aloise had changed her target to Bryn this time, and more importantly ignoring the strange urge to brush her away. He knew that her affections were as much for show as they were genuine, and besides, the Illusionist wasn't even 'his' to claim like that.

"A Contest could be interesting." He conceded, flicking his eyes over Taubryn and Aloise, "But perhaps the Venue is wrong for this particular performance." He leaned back in his seat, and took another drag off of his cigarette, tapping the ash off into the little metal ashtray "Mm, Maybe instead we could take it back to the train after we're all nice and tipsy," he suggested, his eyes flicking over the doctor as he sipped and considered whatever was in the glass in his hand. He couldn't help a little chuckle when the doctor so bluntly stated that they needed to get more Brandy. "I could drink to that." He watched as Aloise alighted in Damuron's lap and that settled it. "As a matter of fact, not could, will. If anyone's not content with brandy, speak now." he commented as he stood up. Of course, didn't actually give anyone time to respond before he wandered up to the bar to order another round, carrying his smoke cloud with him.

On a normal night, the firebreather wouldn't drink as much as he was going to tonight, and certainly not this fast. He could feel the way his skin was a touch warmer already. If he was totally honest, which he almost never was--with himself at least--, the feeling always sort of frightened him. He was never quite able to tell if it was simply an effect of the alcohol, the loosening of control, or both that made the feeling spread within him. He forced himself up out of his thoughts, straightening up, as the bartender seemed to cut one interaction short just so he could come over and fluff up for someone from the Cirque. apparently the tavern owner knew who they were and how handsome the tab would be so he served cirque members first. The preference sited Pyrrhus just fine, it meant he had the drinks in hand sooner.

When he came back, he set the round of four glasses on the table and nudged them all into the center of the table, plucking one of them out of the group before he sat back down, just a touch closer to Taubryn than he had been before. With the way that Aloise was throwing herself all over Damuron he didn't see the harm in it, and the way that the doctor seemed to be reacting to their slightly too-familiar interactions was amusing. Had he been around this long and not found out? All while claiming Taubryn was his 'best friend' no less. Pyrrhus took a slow sip of the brandy, letting it heat his tongue and attempting to taste it before letting it slip warm down his throat. He wasn't any great judge of taste, but it seemed at least decent quality compared to everything else in the bar. "So, Brynn, you never did tell us what got our icy Ringmaster to laugh." He commented casually, trying to find some direction to keep the conversation afloat before they found out whether Damuron was an amusing drunk or a boring one.



______________________________________________________________________
Burn everything you love, then burn the ashes.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Light 'em up, I'm on fire.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

xxx╔═════════════════════════╗
Currently at: Tavern || With: Taverngoers (Bryn, Damuron, Aloise)
xxx╚═════════════════════════╝

[Scrivener_Lost]

__________________________________________________мσяgαи νσи fαυѕтυѕ


And this....this is why you should have never allowed her to stay in the Cirque...this is why you should have never adopted Ava...this is why you should...have...never...become...you...

She had pushed away from him, her unsteady legs denying her the balance she needed as they collapsed underneath her and sent the woman tumbling into the ground under the combined force of alcohol and gravity. He watched her with a terrible look of pity as she coughed and sputtered, her carefully fabricated mask of seductive beauty crumbling into something that was much more human and vulnerable. Instead of being the cat that toyed with Morgan like a mouse, attempting to rip into his flesh and toss him about like a toy; Maiya now took on the form of prey as the Ringmaster towered over her form, his eyes gazing over her broken form now as one would stare at a doll that had shattered. He felt a terrible ache in his chest as he watched her crumble to pieces, tears running down her face as her painted lips moved. "People change. Especially after a hundred years." More more truer words could have been spoken by the woman even if the Ringmaster would deny every letter than created the lexeme. No...no one truly changes...Just as I have not-"-Just as you have changed, I have changed." The words of doubt froze in his mind as she cut through his self-absorbed ramble and he lowered his lashes as he cast his eyes to the side. ...Is it true, though? No one can change in such a short amount of time...can they? And as he thought about the events that had occurred throughout the day, several events came to mind. Pyrrhus...the moment of pure dark glee I felt when holding the sword...The acrobats...they did so well...and yet I still rent through them like fire searing paper...avoiding Ava...no, she cannot truly claim that I have changed...as I am sure she has not...Had she stayed longer in the tavern, she would surely be dragging some poor estranged person into her room tonight... But then again, she had left the tavern and had come straight for him. But that was simply because I was in her line of sight...Surely if I had no been there... There were no logical answers that he could conjure up. No chess pieces. No careful play on words. No illusionary tactics. Because with Maiya...it had always been about raw emotion and passion...

Morgan watched now as Maiya rose to her feet, those crimson eyes burning now as she glared at him. He continued to gaze at her with a wicked and terrible look of pity, like he didn't understand the words that sprang from her heart. But deep inside...her words were clawing at him, tearing his charade of careful blockades and denial into shreds. He swallowed, the headache hammering away at his head now as she spewed at him hot words of truth despite the alcohol that surged through her veins. He closed his eyes now as he raised his face towards the moon, his mind trying to will away the pain his body was tossing at him. The hunger was beginning to resurface as the fatigue pulled on his limbs. Is there truly no escape from this day? He asked the moon. He pleaded for this day to end. If only everything that was occuring right now could just be...staved off for another time when he was better prepared for it. Between avoiding Ava, the parade, the assessments, Alaizabel, and now Maiya; the Ringmaster half wished for someone to come up behind him and simply bash him against the side of the head and allow him to fall into a slumber from which he would not awake for some time. But Maiya was speaking now, bringing him crashing back to reality as he opened his sore eyes. "I want someone who would like to be there for me too. I figured since you've been stuck with me for so long you'd have some understanding. I guess not. I guess not." Morgan's eyes watched her as she wobbled beyond him and in some obscure direction leading towards an open field. He turned slightly as he watched her, his golden eyes following her uneasy form as she stumbled about, guilt gripping his heart in a painful manner.

"Maybe I am better off just leaving the Circus!" Once again, that damned statement. The moment the suggestion had left her lips, Morgan felt it cut deep into him once again. A hand raised to his chest and he once again rubbed at his sternum in a nervous manner, much like he had after Alaizabel had won their match of wits and reason. It was painful, truly, thinking about how much he really had changed. Not only had he allowed Alaizabel to win against their impressively long battle, but now, he was feel his resolve wither away as Maiya continued to fling terrible threats at him. He found himself taking a shaky step forward and shortly after, another. He watched as Maiya continued to dazedly stumble through the field, hardly aware of he juvenile cornstalks that were assuredly beating against her legs. She doesn't understand! She doesn't...none of them do! Because...because you won't let them... For each step Maiya took, Morgan felt his breath become shallow and raspy. The panic that had enveloped him upon Novalynn's escape was coming through once more, but on an entirely different level. There was no rage in this feeling, simply, pure panic. And why should I be concerned...she is a simple contract...right?....RIGHT? Morgan found himself walking after Maiya now, his hands clenched into fists as his side as he brushed past the initial stalks of tall grasses. The panic was surging through him now, but it was hard for him to decide what to do with it. With long even strides of his legs, he was upon her, his arm stretching out to latch onto her left bicep. He wrenched her painfully towards him now, his eyes bright with...well, with what? Panic? Anger? They were very nearly the same emotion when it concerned the Ringmaster. His pale lips were parted as a hot breath wafted over her and he glared down at her. "How dare you walk away from me!"

He gave her a violent shake until she was fully facing him now, his pale face writ with a terrible mix of anger and well...it was difficult for him to pinpoint exactly what he was feeling. "You do not get to decide your fate! That is my job. I offered you the chance to escape a long time ago and you denied it, very vehemently if I remember correctly. So where do you get off threatening me with leaving the Cirque. You can do nothing unless I grant you permission..." The fire that he had started out with tapered as he gazed at her snot-ridden and tear-streaked face. He took a deep and shaky breath before he relinquished the hold on her arm. He flicked his eyes away from her's as he now reached into his long coat. "I...apologize..." He uttered softly as he took from a hidden pocket a red handkerchief. He moved forward to her once more, but with much less malice in his steps. He held up the cotton napkin and gently wiped from her eyes her tears first, then began to clean her face. He was reminded of when Ava would get sick or cry in a similar fashion, her face entirely covered in sticky mess as he struggled to clean it. The handkerchief itself was awash in his scent as he handed her the black embroidered cloth. But he didn't break his contact with her as his hand moved down instead to her shoulder, his soft skin grazing against her neck. "You...are a truly frustrating woman, Maiya." Morgan muttered softly. "I...I cannot fathom why you would want someone like me. I do not comprehend it. You have so much more to offer...someone who deserves it. Maybe we have both changed...and maybe you're right...but I'm afraid...I have not changed for the better," Morgan admitted. Because even if I wanted to share your feelings...there is still something else preventing me from doing so... He looked at her evenly before offering her a pathetic smile.

"You must trust me Maiya...you must trust me...that this is for the better. For your own good...for the good of the Cirque...I cannot be the man you are asking me to be..." Morgan said, his voice dripping with heavy regret. "I can only beg your forgiveness Maiya...you have truly stuck by my side...you and I have been through many...unfortunate things...all I can ask from you is forgiveness...and patience..." He knew he had no right to be asking her anything, but he could only hope that his words would placate her enough for tonight until her mind could clear up and make sense of the drabble that escaped from her. He could only hope that what she was revealing to him tonight would be the last of it. Because if it came up again...I do not know if I could hold my will against her...





In the nightfall you will be a thrall , Of his evil lies cruel nightmare like black prayer full of scorn and vice
The end of the balance is your defeat while you dance the Devil’s suite , Climb the tower it’s the hour
Dream the reality out your flesh husks in the soul dusk
come your agony
You’re falling down so falls the mask
it’s time to answer and ask



Location::Outside of Town w/ Maiya
Tagged:: Maiya


Cynosural Cataclysm

[Cynotastic]

tab 『ωɪтʜ: Morgan 』xxxxxxx 『ʟocaтɪoɴ: Outside 』xxxxxxx 『ϻσσɗ: Emotional 』xxxxxxx『σuтғɪт: [x] 』

Maiya continued to try to distance herself from Morgan. Though, she wasn't entirely sure why she was running. Her instincts told her to get away from the man because he didn't seem to understand. He never seemed to understand. 'Or, maybe it is just me who doesn't understand.' Strides slowed, as the spinning world from the alcohol caused her to become dizzy with her increased pace. 'Maybe I was wrong to approach him...' She coughed a few times, but since she wasn't speaking the tears began to slow. The solid object formed in her throat again.

This was the side effect that Maiya hated of alcohol, and typically why she just settled on cheap wines. The highs and the lows were awful. Especially when she was already feeling down in the dumps. As she slowed to a steady walk, her eyes glanced around before her. None of the area looked familiar. Where was she going...? She wanted to just stop, collapse right there and call the evening done and over with. At least some of the events would disappear into the depths of her mind. Then, she heard the voice of the man she was fleeing from roar towards her.

"How dare you walk away from me!"

His voice caused her to freeze, it was thick, demanding, yet still had such a smooth texture to it. Morgan's voice was one of the things that drew her towards the man. Paired with his handsome appearance, and mysterious background there was such an allure to the man. Something that always drew Maiya towards him. Which was why this whole situation started. Then his cold hand grabbed her arm. The jerking motions that he put her body through while turning her around caused her to shriek. This situation felt very eerily similar to a situation in the past. The evening she lost her soul and became bound to the circus. Except, instead of trying to keep control of the situation like she had in the past, she was like the cowering Elizabeth, terrified of what actions that The Ringmaster might do. It felt so strange to be so fearful of the commands of his voice. Maiya tried to struggle, free herself from his grasp. Just as the man was unable to get her to release him what felt like minutes prior.

"You do not get to decide your fate! That is my job. I offered you the chance to escape a long time ago and you denied it, very vehemently if I remember correctly. So where do you get off threatening me with leaving the Cirque. You can do nothing unless I grant you permission..." Her eyes were wide and starred into the imposing gaze of Morgan as he spoke. Then shifted down to the ground to the side. He was right; she had agreed to stay. Which, his very strong words were at least somewhat reassuring in what he didn't specifically state. He wanted her to stay. Morgan, no matter how much he had refused her advancements, denied her yearning, and at times out right ignored her, at least enjoyed her company to deny letting her leave. At least, that was what she had gathered hidden beneath the harsh words he spat off prior to apologizing.

'Wait... He apologized?'

Saying sorry for something was a rare glimpse at Morgan's humanity. Especially after such a huge bout of anger exploding from the man. Her red-stained eyes looked back over to the Ringmaster after his attempt in making amends. His grasp on her arm was removed, and Maiya's body suddenly stopped being so tensed up in panic. The situation felt much less intense than it had moments prior. He was reaching into his pocket, but for what? A red handkerchief. Then, something topped the previous bizarre action of the evening. The grown man was cleaning her face of the tear trails, and snot spots. She had felt like a child as he did it, but it was a comforting motion. Something that helped reassure Maiya of her previously mentioned desires. It was also an indication that he at least somewhat cared about the woman who had been around forever. He cared enough to try and make her feel better. Coughing, and clearing her throat, her eyes looked back into Morgan's as he began to speak again.

"You...are a truly frustrating woman, Maiya." She was aware of how much she often frustrated the black-haired man. Her mouth dropped open as she was about to respond back with a gentle I know. Though, he continued onward. "I...I cannot fathom why you would want someone like me. I do not comprehend it. You have so much more to offer...someone who deserves it. Maybe we have both changed...and maybe you're right...but I'm afraid...I have not changed for the better," She shook her head. While sure, the man had seemed to delve back his prior self periodically. He was still a much softer man than he was before. "No you're wro--" the Ringmaster started speaking again. These words stung slightly. "You must trust me Maiya...you must trust me...that this is for the better. For your own good...for the good of the Cirque...I cannot be the man you are asking me to be..." 'I'm not asking you to change...' "I can only beg your forgiveness Maiya...you have truly stuck by my side...you and I have been through many...unfortunate things...all I can ask from you is forgiveness...and patience..."

"I'm not asking you to change anything." She voiced. "I am not asking you to change a single thing. I just don't want to be pushed aside anymore." A pause as she cleared her throat. The urge of tears was starting to form again, but she didn't want to go back into the mess of emotions again. "I know, you have demands for the circus. Are you afraid getting into a relationship would harm that? People of the circus trust you, and respect you..." Her shoulders lifted and she realized that his hand was resting on her shoulder. Taking a step closer, her arms moved and rested on his own shoulders. Her hands intertwining with his lengthy locks as she looked up into his golden eyes, the light of the moon reflecting on both of their faces. A faint smile on her lips. "I would be happy to help you, if you needed..." A pause. "I don't want to leave your side, and I won't. I know you are stressed out, and I know you have a lot of things to do all the time. I want you to know I will always be here if you need help of any kind. Someone to talk to, be intimate to, help you in ways a simple assistant can't."

Her eyes fell from his own gaze and looked down to his chest. Her world had stabilized somewhat from what it had been prior, but she was still clearly under the affects of alcohol, with a slight sway to her stance. The hands that had begun to play with the man's loose hair, ran through as she pondered what she wanted. Clearly, she wanted to get closer to the man. She had already stolen one hug from him - even though it was one sided. Could she get a real hug now? Moving her hands from his hair, she placed them on his shoulders. It almost felt as though they were getting ready to break into a slow dance to the woman. A small sigh came from her lips. The urge was coming back as she basked in the closeness she was enjoying. "I am also sorry..." She started as she moved her hands from his shoulders down to his chest, where they snuck around his figure again. "And.. I... love you..." She finished as she placed her teeth on her lips, then went in for the embrace. Pushing her body against his. It felt so romantic in the moonlight. It just felt so right.

[Scrivener_Lost]

__________________________________________________мσяgαи νσи fαυѕтυѕ


The headache that had been pounding away at his skull now was at such a level that it felt as if someone were hitting him in the face repeatedly with a brick. The anger that had just possessed him moments ago had done little to assist in the matter and had indeed only made it worse. Or perhaps it was the combination of both the stress of the day and the smack against the stone street; or even it was just everything combined. Either way, Morgan desperately fighting against it as it peeled apart the soft tissue of his brain and exposed it to the frigid air. He needed sleep. Desperately. Tomorrow would be the first day of performances and the last thing he needed was for his brain to be addled and full of regrets and emotions. Already he was damning himself for taking on far too much in terms of work with the assessments, but the fatigue had lost him two contracts. That was a first. And it made him sick with realization that he would now have to spend precious time trying to recover those contracts when he should be focused on the future missions and the performances themselves. He had far too many things to do than allowed for him to simply be idle and let everything sail over head. He had never been one to sit around for long. In fact, had it not been for Ava, the Ringmaster would be an eternally moving cog that stilled for no one. But Ava had taught him patience. And the importance of listening. But he heard Maiya. He heard her loud and clear. She was in pain and he could see it. Not only was it written on her expression and in the tone of her voice, but it was in her aura as well. And it surprised him. He had never truly paid attention to Maiya and her wants. He knew well enough her desires and had only seen them as cruel japes and jabs to simply rile up the Ringmaster. And that's how he had always treated them. As jokes. He would allow her to get close to him. He would allow her to coo in his ear and run a lustful hand down his neck. But that's all Morgan had ever thought they were. Innuendos with no definite meaning. Simply, a woman trying to garner his attention in bed. That's all Morgan ever saw.

What he had never seen...never wanted to see...was this version of Maiya. This beautiful, terrible, lovely, decrepit version of her. He did not want to see the pain. And why? Because he was selfish and ignorant. Because in his mind, ignorance was bliss. He did not want to admit that Maiya's feelings could have been little more than playful mewling and pawing at his body. He did not want to admit that in the hundred years she had been by his side, that she would want something else other than adding him to her tally of conquered men and women. What he held on to was the hope that this was nothing but a night of drunken stupor that would fade away in the morning. Because why? Because he could not bring himself to admit that he was truly the item of her affections. That would be admitting that he cared. That would be admitting that he was truly no longer the man who ran the Cirque with an iron fist. And it scared him. It frightened him to think that he was losing control. Losing control...only results in failure. And he had lost control many times in the past and the consequences had...well, resulted in nothing but disaster and loss. In the end, his failures would draw his attention and then...Then everything...everyone...is at risk. His mind was splitting in two. On one hand, he knew that by remaining the dark and fierce man his troupe knew him to be, he could remain painfully in control and move people in and out of his service without having to deal with the fallout of their emotions or his own. He would not have to care that Alaizabel truly wanted to share literary passions with him. He would not have to care that he had spent the entire day nearly ripping Icarus apart at every moment. He would not have to care that Ava and Maiya shared the same painful hurt of his neglect. He would not have to care if he remained hated. And if all hated him, he would not have to feel the regret of losing them. But there was no denying the second half of him. There was no denying that he had already exposed more of himself to the Cirque than he cared to admit. He cared very much that Damuron was limping around the train recently after taking Aloise's injury from her. He cared that Paul worked himself nearly to the point of exhaustion taking on the orders Morgan issued him.

But that was admitting weakness. That was admitting failure. Failure...to remain focused. If he was focusing on other people...he was not focusing...on them. And it was his fault that...his fault... "I'm not asking you to change anything. I am not asking you to change a single thing. I just don't want to be pushed aside anymore." Maiya's words drew him out of his fatigue laced throbbing migraine now. "I know, you have demands for the circus. Are you afraid getting into a relationship would harm that? People of the circus trust you, and respect you..." Morgan visibly winced as if her words physically pained him. In truth, they did. More so than she knew. "Are you afraid getting into a relationship would harm that? People of the circus trust you, and respect you..." Morgan's breath hitched in his chest, trapping itself uncomfortably in his lungs as he noticeably twitched in response to her words. Am...am I afraid? Afraid of getting into a relationship... He wished she would stop speaking now. He wised her words carried less poison than they did. He wished...he wished he could explain it to her. He wished he could make her understand. Make them all understand. But he could not. That would be exposing them. That would be putting a target on their backs. All of them. Am I afraid? His golden eyes wavered to her crimson orbs as she began to interlock her fingers in his unruly locks. The sensation of having her so close to him, their bodies touching as she draped her arms on his shoulder brought with it warmth and a sense of comfort that he wished would never cease. As his own hand dropped from her shoulder and wavered at her waist, he wanted nothing more than to lean into this strangely comforting sensation.


Am I afraid?



More than you'll ever know.


"I don't want to leave your side, and I won't. I know you are stressed out, and I know you have a lot of things to do all the time. I want you to know I will always be here if you need help of any kind. Someone to talk to, be intimate to, help you in ways a simple assistant can't." Why? Why do you have to torture me so? Why must you continue to be so damned stubborn?! Why! Morgan closed his eyes now as she sighed, the Ringmaster taking it in as a sign, a hopeful sign that she would be ceasing this painful excursion. He was begging her madly with his mind now. Please...please do not continue...do not continue this mad lust...do not continue to want...please...please do not make me... Her hands were moving now, sliding down the front of the long coat and snaking towards his ribcage. He could feel every subtle movement and knew what she was going to do. And he should have stopped her. He should have shoved her away then and now. If he allowed her to get any closer, then he would have to admit that he had failed to keep up his part of his promise. He should have simply left her in the corn feild and returned to the train. A simple call to her soul pearl and she would be forced to come back and all without his emotion and turmoil the two were causing each other. Sure. She would be sore and upset. But it would be nothing that he hadn't dealt with before. So then why can't I stop her? Morgan growled at himself as Maiya pressed closer now. She was apologizing, but he did not know what for. His mind was whirlwind of unceasing mantra now. He did not want to hear what was going to come next. He could feel it. He could feel her aura reaching out, beckoning to time, begging him. He did not want to hear it. Do not say those words, Maiya! And before he knew it, she had her arms wrapped around him and her lips were moving.

"And.. I... love you..."

Morgan felt like he was suffocating. She had said exactly what he had feared. As Maiya pressed against him, her arms drawing him tightly to her, Morgan felt his stomach form a solid stone of pure icy regret. It chilled him to his core and he felt the cold shoot through his veins as it filled his lungs and made it impossible to draw a breath. Its just the alcohol speaking...its just the alcohol speaking... But in all reality, he knew he was simply filling his head with false hopes. With Maiya unable to fully see his expression, the Ringmaster's brows knit tightly together as he glared hotly at the ground, his jaw muscles twitching with anxiety as he struggled to contain himself. He wanted to run. He wanted to just let everything fall apart. He had not wanted Maiya to say those words. He would rather her hate him for a hundred more years than for those words to come from her. And yet...when she threatened to leave the Cirque...you flew into a rage like a selfish child...you cannot have both... And before he could stop his body from reacting, his arms raised up and he drew his arms around Maiya, his hands pressing against her back as he embraced her. Fool! He had lost the battle, just as he had with Alaizabel. He was slipping beyond control now, his stern demeanor lost with weariness and cold calculated defenses. Maiya had caught him unawares and unprepared for the onslaught of her might and she had won. The embrace the shared held no malice or malcontent. Instead of planning to shove her away violently, he couldn't help as he let his cheek rest against her head. The throbbing in his head had receded upon the contact and he released a heavy breath he had been holding. He had lost.

But he could not repeat the words she wanted to her. He could only hope that this embrace would appease her. He refused to let her hear those damning words echo from his mouth. "Perhaps...it is time to retire. There is a lot of work to be done tomorrow." He said at length, his voice filled with weariness and defeat. "Shall we...go home?" He asked, pulling away slightly to look down at her. He reached up and placed his hand gently against her face so that his palm rested against her cheek. He ran this thumb along her cheekbone before dropping his hand. It was a strange sign of affection. Something new. Something specifically tailored for her. Only he knew where it came from.





In the nightfall you will be a thrall , Of his evil lies cruel nightmare like black prayer full of scorn and vice
The end of the balance is your defeat while you dance the Devil’s suite , Climb the tower it’s the hour
Dream the reality out your flesh husks in the soul dusk
come your agony
You’re falling down so falls the mask
it’s time to answer and ask



Location::Outside of Town w/ Maiya
Tagged:: Maiya


Cynosural Cataclysm

[Cynotastic]

『ωɪтʜ: Morgan 』xxxxxxx 『ʟocaтɪoɴ: Outside 』xxxxxxx 『ϻσσɗ: Blissful 』xxxxxxx『σuтғɪт: [x] 』

Maiya was unsure as to why the man winced as she spoke, though she chalked it up to the world spinning and that he actually hadn't winced. Though, her thoughts of what she witnessed with her eyes were caught by the hand that repositioned themselves onto her side. Almost like his arm was welcoming her into the embrace. His warmth was wonderful as she pushed herself against the man. It in itself placed a large smile as she gave the man a tight squeeze while feeling his arm sit on her side. As they stood there, under the moonlight, Maiya reflected on a few of the words spoken in the evening.

"You do not get to decide your fate! That is my job. I offered you the chance to escape a long time ago and you denied it, very vehemently if I remember correctly. So where do you get off threatening me with leaving the Cirque. You can do nothing unless I grant you permission...Maiya...you have no idea...Maiya...you have no idea" While she wasn't sure exactly what she had no idea of. The knife thrower was certain that the man did not want her to leave. Although she had already realized this, she gained great pleasure from thinking over the idea. Because no matter how reluctant he was to state it. He still cared. This was further proved by the fact he had not pushed her away from the embrace like he had when she first stumbled across the man in the streets. He had not pushed her away or denied the fact she was clinging to him anymore.

If anything, he enjoyed it. Her eyes sealed as she enjoyed the silence that came after her final words. While he did not respond immediately, she was alright with that. In fact, she wasn't even certain if she had actually spoke the words or imagined them as she did earlier. No matter how much she seemed to disappoint the Ringmaster at the beginning of the night, the two of them at least felt on better terms now. Now that she had got everything off her own chest.

As she stood there enjoying the peace, Morgan's own arms wrapped around her. His hands pushed into her back, as though securing her place beneath him. It was even accompanied by his own head ontop of her head. It was splendid, and something Maiya wished would never end. It was perhaps the most comforting thing of the evening. It was pure bliss, and she wouldn't change the exchange between the two for the world. He spoke again, suggesting the pair of them to retire for the evening. She was exhausted from all the crying, shifting of emotions, and the headache that was starting to form from how much alcohol she had consumed. A hangover would definitely await her in the morning, but that was alright. Feeling Morgan move a bit out of the embrace, her eyes watched his face as he moved to look down at her. Then when his hand brushed against her face, it caused a shiver to travel through her body.

Her hand fell from the man and grabbed a hold of his own hand. Her fingers laced between his own as she moved her head into the movement of his thumb across her cheekbone. Maiya's other hand that was loosely sitting on Morgan's side after he broke the kiss traveled up to his head to play with his loose locks once more. Though really, there was one more thing she wanted before the evening was over... That was a kiss.

Though, perhaps that would ruin the feeling of closeness and comfort the two had achieved in the moonlight? Her eyes moved from his own gaze and across his features. Taking in the expression of the man, moving down into the way he himself stood before her, and back up where her gaze settled on his lips. Biting her lip momentarily, she nodded to the man. "Yes. Let's go home..." She stated, as she trailed off, moving his hand off of her face, giving it a gentle peck with her own lips, then holding onto his hand tightly. "Please, lead the way."


『σσc: New Layout - again - don't mind me! 』

[Scrivener_Lost]

__________________________________________________мσяgαи νσи fαυѕтυѕ


It was strange...the headache that had been forming and had reached such a terrible peak earlier appeared to be ebbing away now as Maiya reached up and interlaced her fingers with his. It was as if she were a catalyst for his pain, almost as if her touch was drawing it away from his body. His eyes moved to her hand and he admired how his hand contrasted against her's. He had never really paid much attention to the sensation of her hand in his as it had been a very long time since he had shared any physical contact that was worthy of contemplation. Her hand was smaller and seemed to fit perfectly in his. It was strange, really, the differences in Maiya's grasp compared to Ava's. Maiya's was grasp was strong and demanding unlike Ava's gentle and playful tug. They were completely different, down to the very feel of their skin against his. Were Ava offered him a warming and coddling sensation, Maiya's felt comforting and solicited a terrible flicker of excitement from him. He admired how his dark nails pressed into the soft peach tone of her skin, gazing at the paleness of his skin that practically reflected the moon while her tone reminded him of the sun. Her fingers were long, elegant, and befitting of a woman who with a subtle touch could warrant such a pining from either gender. It was truly a wonder. It was strange. The differences and similarities between the hundreds of people whose hand I have taken in order to steal their soul...while no one in their right mind would offer me their hand again...Maiya would do so without a second thought. Just like...her. Morgan's eyes gazed at their interlocked fingers for a moment longer as just before she spoke, breaking his intense gaze. He blinked and turned his eyes to her once more as she affirmed his suggestion. She took his hand now the one in which he had offered the appeasing gesture of affection and offered one of her own. A kiss. A soft gentle peck against his hand. And if he were perhaps in another universe, in another time, in another body...just anywhere but this reality, he could see himself sharing the same tender token if it were not for this damned fate of mine...

As she offered him the lead, Morgan gave her a gentle nod of his head before tightening his grip slightly on her hand and pulling her in the proper direction of the train. The undulating rise and fall of the crops would surely make it difficult for the inebriated woman to walk properly, so he gently led her along, taking care to find a path which wouldn't force her to dodge many obstacles. When they were free of the juvenile crop, Morgan held out his hands to Maiya as she began to make her way across a small irrigation ditch, the minor depth catching her off guard as her shoe caught a small rock on the incline. She stumbled downward, but before she could hit the dirt, Morgan's hand gripped her's securely and he quickly caught her with his other arm, dipping it underneath her's and pulling her up. He drew her back onto solid ground and he caught her gaze for a moment. A gentle smile crossed his lips and he let out a soft chuckle. "Whoops. Careful now." He muttered softly, holding her securely with his arm draped behind her back. But he did not let go until he was sure she was steady on her feet before he continued to lead her back. Only after they had walked a few steps that he was confident enough to let her walk without him holding her, Morgan continued to hold her hand as they made their way through the darkened path. Despite the brightness of the moon, it was still immensely dark as they made their way past the fields and the entrance into the clearing of the forest in which confined the Cirque. Just through the veil of wood and leaves they could see the sparkle of the small lights that outlined the circus grounds. The lights in the Big Top had long since been extinguished, but the perimeter lanterns were still lit, looking like a glittering dance of fireflies as they made their way to the front gate. The booth itself was as expected, empty and as they finally crossed into the familiar sights of the Cirque, Morgan's grip wavered in Maiya's grasp.

Turning his gaze from their feet to the welcoming sight of home, Morgan could feel the sore and aching fatigue pulling on him even more vehemently now as his eyes could make out the faint outline of the train, its black behemoth form illuminating not only by lanterns, but by the roaring maw of the fire that raged in the pit. The stagehands were still well and wide awake, most sitting about and conversing while dining or listening to music as they relaxed. And as they continued to approach the train, Morgan slipped Maiya's arm over his head, finally breaking the grip she had on his hand. He still hand one hand wrapped around the small of her back as they passed the large stage and drew nearer to the train. He cast a quick look to Maiya as his chest constricted. She could only ask so much from him in one night and he hoped she would not make a fuss over him rescinding the public display of affection. He could not show that side of him to the others. Never. Not now. Not ever. He could only hope...That one day you'll understand... And he passed her an apologetic look as they ambled past the large fire pit and moved towards the entrance into the passenger car. He helped Maiya up into the train before he took a turn to the left, down the corridor towards her room. As they came upon the door to her compartment, he paused and relinquished his hold on her arm as he freed her. Looking down at her now, he moved a stray lock of hair from her face. His own hair was now quite a disaster without being confined by his bow which was still around Maiya's neck.

"You are truly a frustrating woman," he repeated. "And terribly troublesome when you're drunk. But you are one of a kind, Maiya. You exhaust me to now end...so if you'll excuse me...I will retire to my room." Morgan spoke softly. You all exhaust me...every single one of you... He thought about his troupe. Like a father leading a troupe of hormonal raging teens, they all completely and utterly exhausted him. Like any family, I suppose.





In the nightfall you will be a thrall , Of his evil lies cruel nightmare like black prayer full of scorn and vice
The end of the balance is your defeat while you dance the Devil’s suite , Climb the tower it’s the hour
Dream the reality out your flesh husks in the soul dusk
come your agony
You’re falling down so falls the mask
it’s time to answer and ask



Location::Outside of Town w/ Maiya --> Train; Outside of Maiya's Room w/ Maiya
Tagged:: Maiya


Cynosural Cataclysm

[secretshades]

◆ ʟocaтɪoɴ: Outside The Orphanage xxxxxxxx◇ ϻσσɗ: A little more relaxed...this one isn't as terrifying as her boss....xxxxxxxx◆ cσϻpaɴʏ: This girls....this troublesome girl.

Nova felt her saliva turn sour, and her tongue curl against her teeth. They were just kids. They had already lived long enough to see their parents pass or leave them. Maybe some had even offered up the souls of these children in horrible deals with the devil. Time didn’t matter to Nova, not the time she earned, or the time she traded. If she could wipe their slates clean and set them up for a respectable future, why shouldn’t she? ”They’re children with nothing. A new future is hardly the biggest of their worries. What of their own debts, unknown deals with shady devils, left by their late or errant parents? You cant rest that weight on a child. They’ll be crushed.” The cats continued to mewl and curl around the woman. It must be nice…..they always ran from Nova and the children.


Sacrifices…..the sacrifice was nothing to Nova. She had been given up in an offer that meant nothing to her father long ago. He sacrificed her to free her, right? To get her from the clutches of some whore-house and toss her right back to the streets, to the gates of the orphanage she stood before even now. She felt a bitter lump build in her throat, rubbing her neck before she spoke. ” Why should they have to think for that? I’ve never once told them of anything I did for them. I never told anyone of the deals I made. I - Would they be better off? Better off living here, like she was, older than the rest, waiting to live and die within the walls of the orphanage. Her wide blew eyes snapped upward, staring her down in the dim streetlight. ”I take them from this life, this life I was handed after everything burned away….” her words came as a struggled whisper, a touch strangled. ”How could anything that I’ve traded hundreds of years for be worse than this….” It wasn’t as if she hadn’t screened the families with the Madame first. They all underwent the interview process, to see if they were fit to take the children, and of course, Nova used her humming songs to help the children appear a touch more darling and desirable. She gave them good families, loving mothers and fathers who wanted them. She gave them everything she never had to give. If she had been only thinking of giving them their lives back out of the orphanage, she would have offered to them to make their own contracts. She would have let them take the fall for their own misspoken contracts. The blame was all hers. The lives they had now were their own, because she silently freed them from the bonds of poverty and solitude.


Realizing she was out of line, Nova slapped a hand over her mouth, quieting herself. ”No, I uhm….I apologize. I shouldn’t have spoken out like that. It was rude. I’m sorry.” Nova knew her debt well. Whatever she had from her father, and then two hundred-forty from the children. ”I have….and extensive debt. My father left me with his debts when he left me here, and all I’ve done since then is…well, make things worse, I suppose. Freedom….in the performance. That made sense. She didn’t have any exceptional talents, though. She was light on her feet, but that was from running away all her life. ”I can’t even imagine how I’d perform.” She managed a cough or a laugh, smiling. ”Freedom and servitude together? And staying there until the debts are repayed…I’d be giving away hundreds of years. More than I know….without age and without cease. Time slows for no man, right? How can you leave after everything…” Time changed everyday. Cameras, and contact lenses instead of glass frames, science and the world changed every day. With over two hundred years to repay, she’d lose her whole lifetime. Everything she loved, everyone she had saved….”The others….just watch time leave them behind? Their families….grow up and grow old without them? Leaving a sibling, or a family behind would crush someone, wouldn’t it? Only seeing them when you rolled back into town on the trains….watching years etch hard lines into their faces, children grow, move on, up, and out. She didn’t want to think of living far beyond the kids she had traded her mortal soul for.


The sky was a little cloudy, but the weather was fair. ” Thank you for understanding. Perhaps under different circumstances….I don’t know, things may have been different. I’m sorry for being so brash with you. I-I didn’t get your name, did I? I’m Nova.” The girl was a lot softer than her boss, certainly. Her anger and worry was easy to excuse just watching her pet and play with the kittens on the sidewalk.


◇ σσc IF ANY




thymeast22

[happydog911]

So long ago, I don't remember when.
That's when they say I lost my only friend.
Well they said she died easy of a broken heart disease,
As I listened through the cemetery trees

I seen the sun comin' up at the funeral at dawn, the long broken arm of human law.
Now it always seemed such a waste, she always had a pretty face.
So I wondered how she hung around this place.

August couldn't help but let out a small laugh as Alaizabel became panicked at the sudden presence of the acrobat. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he answered, offering an apologetic smile, "Sometimes I forget that people don't always see me when I see them." He had always been light on his feet, hardly making any noise when he moved. Most people didn't notice him until he spoke or, in his most recent adventure, until his hair gave him away. It would make sense that Alaiza hadn't even noticed him until he called to her, especially considering she had been indulged in her novel in combination with the darkness. Tonight he was particularly glad to have found her. Unlike many of the other members of the cirque, August found no comfort in drinking. It was fun on occasion, but just that. Occasion. Tonight would have been enough reason to participate for him, with the assessments being done, however the acts had taken their fair share out of him. Simply put, he was exhausted. With a real show tomorrow, he didn't particularly fancy the additional stress of a hangover.

August gave a small nod as she explained her situation. He felt as if she might be leaving something out, but decided not to delve into it further. He had only really been concerned for her safety in the first place. If she had some other business, who was he to bother her about it? "You talked to Morgan? That's brave. I think I probably would have hidden in my room until further notice," he reasoned. Another scolding for the day was not on his list of things to do. Especially being so new to the cirque, he really hadn't had many face to face encounters with the man in question. This whole time he had simply done his work quietly, with little to no complaints. In fact, his whole relationship in general with the cirque was still new. It had only been a year, but it felt like much longer. Something here made him feel like he belonged, though he could never really pinpoint what it was. Perhaps those in similar situations like himself, particularly Alaizabel. They had discussed their story a few times, though the topic only came up when they were having a serious conversation. Both were aware that love made people do stupid things, and both often wondered if love was worth their time. The mutual agreement made it easy for them to get along, with out having to worry about out of place feelings for one another.

As the topic turned to the book Alaizabel held, August shook his head. "I can't say I have" he mused. Admittedly, he wasn't very big into books or reading. He did know how, that he was sure of. His late mother used to read to him before bed, and often as a child he'd read himself. However that was before his love of the outdoors caught up to him, and much before he became aware that his mother never really loved him in the first place. Books were a stale reminder of that, though he was sure he could handle reading if it came down to it in the future. "It must be good if you're reading it again," he said. Though she hadn't said if she had previously read it, August felt as if it was almost a given with her concerning a good book. He tried to think of the times he saw her with no book at all, and those moments were far in between.

Just as he was about to ask what the book was about, he heard something. A voice being carried on the wind, the shuffling of feet coming towards the train. Looking to Alaiza, he wasn't sure if she heard it as well. He furrowed his brows slightly and returned his gaze towards the darkness. Eventually, two figures emerged. One he made out instantly to be Morgan. The other took a second more of concentration before he recognized the girl as Maiya. Though there was nothing particularly strange Morgan hanging around with the troupe, the feeling about the two was... different. Looking to Alaizabel he pointed down toward the ground, where the two were now making their way towards the train. August couldn't help but let out a small snicker after Morgan helped Maiya into their home. "Looks like even the boss has a romantic side," he gibed, looking to Alaiza, curious of what her reaction would be.

Quote:

With: Alaiza (Morgan, Maiya)
Location: Roof of Train
Thoughts: Hehe~

Hey, come on try a little, nothing is forever.
There's got to be something better than in the middle.
But me & Cinderella, we put it all together.
We can drive it home, with one headlight.

[Cynotastic]

tab 『ωɪтʜ: Morgan 』xxxxxxx 『ʟocaтɪoɴ: Outside -> Bedroom 』xxxxxxx 『ϻσσɗ: Content 』xxxxxxx『σuтғɪт: [x] 』


A faint smile sat on her lips as Morgan tightened his own grip on her hands. It was another welcomed feeling as she gave his own hand a squeeze in response. He guided her through the farmlands with ease, ensuring that the growing corn stalks would not hinder her path as much as they did when she fled. She continued following him, her eyes not really focused on the path ahead and more onto their own shared grip. As, while it might be a minor shared touch, it was enough contact that allowed for a strengthening of closeness. It was also something she had never really got to enjoy as most of her romantic flings were simple one night stands and very rarely delved past that.

Her mind started to flick through her past, thinking through all the other times she had got into relationships. They were never very long lasting, usually only the days that the circus was visiting that town. Usually they were also with women, because of the taboo paired with them. So, mixing it up and going for Morgan was definitely a change in pace. But, after this evening, she wouldn't have it any other way. While for the past one hundred years it had been a goal to unwrap the brick wall surrounding the Ringmaster, it had never been a primary focus. At least, not until now. Previously it was casual hints, and periodic pestering. Now, now she was going to be much more aggressive with her attention towards the man. Because, apparently, it worked. Unlike all the previous tactics she had tried over the years.

Being demanding and forcing the Ringmaster to pay attention was a success. And that - that was something.

When they approached the slight ditch in the land, Maiya's mind had been all a flutter with recapping the whole evening. Documenting every touch, every selective word. Retracing and trying to discover any hidden messages behind Morgan's carefully picked words. Though, she had failed to pick up anything of major significance other than the fact he did not want her to leave. It crossed her mind that she was having issues dissecting his phrases because of the alcohol. Which was definitely the cause of her misstep across the canal.

Though, part of her was filled with joy when Morgan pulled her to safety and caught her in his arms. The faint smile that had been present on her face, stretched as she gazed once again lovingly into the Ringmaster's golden eyes. The gold hues reminded her of the sun - and all the warmth it exudes. A warmth she had managed to feel glimpses of today, and would love to enjoy for the rest of her life - no matter how long that may be. Her eyes took in the contrast between his eye color and his skin. Whereas Morgan's eyes seemed to demonstrate more of how he acted this evening, the cold pale appearance of his skin reminded her of his usual tendencies. Then the chuckle hit her ears, which was also a comforting thing to hear. She did not hear the words he had uttered, as she was caught off in her own world, however she did giggle back in response.

As he moved her back to her feet, she was brought back to reality. However, she was left with the feeling that she had - perhaps - seen a glimpse of his own soul. His hands holding her reassuring that she had her steps was a great comfort until she had her own balance. When he removed his hands as guidance from her body, she was still happy that he continued contact with her by holding her hand. Maiya wished this night would never end.

Her eyes wandered over to the Ringmaster as she felt his grip falter when they began to enter the perimeter of the Circus. While she wished the man would keep holding her hand - as though showing the knife thrower off as a trophy. Deep down, she understood why he removed his hand from her grasp - he had an appearance to uphold. As his hand slipped between her fingers, and placing her hand on his shoulder, she grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt, balling it into her hand as to make it harder for the Ringmaster to distance himself from her. However, it was then she realized that he had his hand on the small of her back still. So, he had no desire to distance himself.

Her red stained eyes continued to study his face as they neared the train. The glimpse of apology washed his face. Boarding the train, she was glad for his assistance, as well as him walking her to her own room instead of simply abandoning her on the campground. Maiya was glad for all the physical contact - even if it was not in the sexual variety. It was in the comforting, and loving gestures. Gestures she rarely saw from Morgan. Gestures that she was able to bask in for what felt like the larger part of the evening. Moments, that were all hers'. Moments that were shared with just her, and Morgan. Instances that proved that he wanted her around, and while no one else had seen those glimpses yet.

Maiya hoped she would be able to show the others in the future. Afterall, while they were all little steps, she was already leaps and bounds ahead of where she was a few nights prior. The smile reappearing on her lips as Morgan moved the hair from her view. "You are truly a frustrating woman," Not the words, she wanted to hear before the two split ways. "And terribly troublesome when you're drunk. But you are one of a kind, Maiya. You exhaust me to now end...so if you'll excuse me...I will retire to my room." She gave him a nod after he spoke his final words. A giggle escaped her lips as she held onto the door of her room for support. Her red-stained eyes locking with Morgan's. "Thank you for the evening... I really enjoyed it." She paused. The three words from earlier haunting her mind again. "Sorry, about the contract, and the trouble." Then she gave him a nod. "Have a good night, dream of me~." She said with a large smile, and with that, Maiya walked into her bedroom, untied the Ringmaster's ribbon from her neck, then tied it around her pillow.

It was a trophy, and it was a memory.