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Grete sighed. She wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. She was off of her performances for a few days, and she had already done everything that she absolutely needed to. Then she ticked things off of her 'to-do' list. She finished the book she was reading, and she had just visited the shops in the surrounding town.

In one shop window, a black knee length, form-fitting dress was displayed, and Grete knew that she had to own it. She was wearing it now, though she was slightly disappointed. Granted, she loved the dress, but she had little-to-know money left for food. Alcohol and clothes took up nearly all of what money she could get her hands on. Her stomach growled, and she frowned.

Now, Grete was simply taking a walk around the Cirque grounds. Nothing too exciting, but she couldn't think of anything else to do. Maybe she would even find something to do along the way.

Still new to the circus grounds, Iosif was taking the time to walk around them - do a bit of exploring, learn the ropes so to speak. He was rather impressed by the variety of the acts displayed; Iosif was not new to circuses, but he'd never seen so many oddities rolled into one. The freakshow tent help a particularly fascination for him, and while he didn't speak to any of the freaks he made a mental note of those that interested him. He'd look into them later.

Iosif was currently tossing buttery handfuls of popcorn into his mouth (suspiciously cigar free, as he had smoked his last one a little while ago) and seemed to be all around enjoying his stroll. It was warm outside so he had rolled up his shirt sleeves and taken off his tie (it was currently wrapped around his wrist) so that he could unbutton the collar of his shirt. Still a bit hot for his tastes, but Iosif wasn't going to complain - at least not with a mouthful of popcorn.

Something delicate and orange suddenly floated into view and Iosif came to a halt. It drifted off to the side and suddenly disappeared from his vision as it crossed in front of his eyepatch (he'd decided to wear it that day). A moments hesitation and calculation, and then a burst of movement - Iosif's hand shot out and caught the orange fleck neatly. He opened his palm and peered curiously at what it was that he had captured, which he had assumed was a bug.

A feather. A chunk of one.

His eye moved sideways and he caught sight of a thin girl mumbling in a language he didn't speak, with a head chock full of orange feathers. "Hey, this was in air and I caught it. You drop this, yes?" he asked, holding his hand out to Lucrezia. The smile on his face was affable, but it was hard to look completely well-intentioned with a mug as banged up as his.

((Figure we two can just post until Kly gets back biggrin ))

Seeming surprised to be suddenly jumped on by two people at once, Lucrezia blinked at both of them. She hadn't been thinking in English, and it was taking a moment to get back into it now. "Euh... Oui," she stated, stalling for time as she tried to translate.

The woman she knew was Grete, but the man...

Lucrezia blinked a few more times and made another stalling "euh" sound. No. It couldn't be. Just a very close lookalike. That was it.

She calmed herself and remembered that they were waiting for an answer. "I know," she said simply. "It's fuzz. I took the feathers out yesterday, but they shed all over me."

She held out a length of dark hair dotted with orange lint in demonstration. "Especially my hair."

She looked over at the man, who she had never seen before if you didn't count knowing someone who looked extremely like him, and frowned at the chunk of feather. "Desolee. It is." She tentatively took it from him, still discretely studying his face, and loosed it into the air in the opposite direction.

Grete's mouth hung open for a few moments. Had he...? A bear? She sent a slightly puzzled look in Lucrezia's direction, to see if she had understood any better than Grete. Realizing how she must look, Grete closed her mouth, and shook his hand, wary of popcorn-hands.

"I'm Grete Llaire," Grete stated, as she smiled at him, "Pleasure to meet you Mister...erm," She paused, unsure of whether or not she could repeat his last name without sounding like a fool.

"Mister Iosif," She finished, obviously flustered. Grete put one hand on her hip, and the other she ran through her hair. Not exactly sure of what to say at this point, she glanced at Lucrezia again. Grete remembered their last meeting, and she hoped to avoid a full-out conflict.

"Lucrezia, so, I hear your performance went nicely. Congrats," Grete said, with a half-smile, and then she turned her gaze back on Iosif,

"So, what do you think of Cirque so far?"

The girls' reactions to his tall tale about his scar sent Iosif into a fit of delicate, girlish giggles, that he smothered by clamping one huge hand over his mouth. Had they really believed him? Honestly? If only it had been a bear! The mundane reality wasn't half as interesting as a dangerous encounter with a ravenous animal. Never mind - Iosif wasn't really one to lie (though he did spin the occasional yarn) and he took it upon himself to tactfully set the girls straight.

"You believe old Iosif! Oh ho! You know, is true what they say about little girls, they not as smart as the mens, yes?" he practically cooed, reaching to pull a clump of orange feathers from Lucrezia's hair. Iosif was clearly delighted by the girls, despite the fact that he had just outright insulted them - he had not done so with the intention to be offensive, Iosif was just naturally an... abrasive individual.

Blowing on his fingers to disperse the feathers, Iosif was momentarily distracted by their dizzying path as they bobbed along in the air before he turned back to Grete and Lucrezia. "Enjoying, eh? Yes, I enjoy very much. I saw circus once as boy, in Moscow - they had the tiger." Iosif hadn't seen a tiger in this circus yet, but he hoped that he would. Perhaps next time he could say he was mauled by a tiger rather than a bear!

"You are performer, Lucy?" Iosif asked, changing the subject abruptly. "Lucy" was easier to pronounce for him, so it seemed like Lucrezia would be stuck with the nickname for the time being. "Hey! That is great! You perform too?" The question was directed at Grete, and he gestured emphatically at both girls, looking eager to hear what they did at Cirque.

Well for all his faults, at least he seemed genuinely interested.

"Many things! I do lots, yeah? Here they want me to do the shooting however. I am very good at the shooting." With one quick and practiced movement, Iosif put his hand by his hip and pulled out one of his guns - it had been placed in a simple, innocuous pouch dangling from belt. The pistol looked somewhat awkward and had a star emblazoned on it, but Iosif ran two fingers lovingly over its surface. It had served him well over the many years since it had come into his possession.

"Bang." he offered, shaking his hand just slightly. His grin broadened. Iosif's guns were more precious to him than gold, and this one had more sentimental value than actual use - still, he could probably show off a bit. Without bothering to wait for a response from either of the girls, Iosif turned and after a moment of searching, aimed for the orange flecks bobbing in the wind.

It was at that moment that a pedestrian decided to walk right in Iosif's line of sight, and the Russian clucked his tongue disappointedly. "I give you show later! Okay? Free one, no charge. You bring feathers." He pointed the gun at Lucrezia, no doubt setting the girl a little ill at ease. The innocent circus goer, for his part, had practically dashed off the property upon seeing Iosif waving round a gun.

A geniune smile spread across Grete's face. Now completely enthralled in the conversation, she looked impressed. She got up on her tip-toes to get a better look at Iosif's gun, and then, as she stumbled slightly, she lowered herself back down. Almost always impressed by the more dangerous performances, Grete felt very enthusiastic, nearly uncharacteristically so, and was truly thrilled to see the performance in its entirety.

"Really? You'd show us part of your act?" asked Grete, breathless in awe, "That's so exciting... Your act, I mean."

Grete smiled widely at Iosif, and then noticed that his gun was, in fact, pointed at Lucrezia. She noticed her unease, and felt it was best to gently bring up that fact.

"I think Lucrezia here is a bit nervous, though. Are you going to be alright?"

"Shot twice in one day?" echoed Lucrezia, mostly because that had been the only part of the fast statement she had caught. She followed the gun with her eyes as it made its way towards Grete. "How did that happen?"

From what she had heard, getting shot once was enough to take a lot of people out. Iosif would have to have the strength of six bears to survive that! But, she reminded herself, he had been kidding earlier, so maybe it was an exageration. She didn't doubt he'd probably taken a bullet at some point (or, at least, she thought, he talked like he had,) but two in one day?

Lucrezia, as inexperienced with guns as she was, had to doubt that. But she chose not to speak up about it, remembering how Grete had responded the first time they had met. People did not like having their claims challenged.