Big Top - Big Troubles

[Kero]

Having counted the revolutions of the multicolored balls, starting each count with the fateful red juggling sphere that had managed, somehow, to be the tool to bring these two wayward circus souls together, the boy had already known the answer before she even said it. He was trained to count them, after all; several acts that him and his father had practiced back in the day and still occasionally now involved doing a particular trick at a particular count. If you missed even one, you ended up getting worse than a ball in your face, usually. After all, his dad’s preference was bowling pins, and sometimes spiked ones. Those could kill even a grown man if they were thrown wrong.

Then again, being that the entire family was cursed to die in water, maybe they didn’t have quite so much to fear… But it never hurt to be too careful.

He would have said something encouraging to lighten up the situation, his ego rising a bit as his mind whirred with trying to find the right pun for the situation, but the voice made him look up with one of the most bewildered, half-comprehending expression in his eyes. The voice was shrill enough that he almost couldn’t understand what was being said, beyond that Jacques was being mentioned, “What the hell?? I think I know what a Banshee sounds like now…”

There was no time for more fun and games. With a yelp of ‘Hey!’, Raz was pulled toward the direction that the voice had first come from, his eyes wide as he weighed his options in an instant. The biggest prevalent thing in his mind was that getting closer to that voice seemed like a bad idea. But almost immediately, it was tempered with the knowledge, as Jacques babbled on, that it was most likely his fault that she was even in this situation now. If he hadn’t come along, she just would have trotted back and not been in all this trouble…

“Jacques…! I can walk, y’know…” trying to get his arm back from her grip before she yanked it off, his goggles suddenly fell over his face, making the boy end up almost tripping over a stick that had been laid conveniently in his path. Saving himself, but just barely, he breathed a sigh of relief and took them off as he straightened up, frowning as he saw one of the straps had finally worn through, “Aw, man…..”

Maybe Jacques would have something back at her camp to fix it though. Trying to think positive, as always, Raz moved to stuff said goggles into his backpack, starting to let his imagination get ahead of him as he imagined a body to the horrid voice, striking a pose, “Where there is danger, Razputin Aquato will be there, facing it down, dispelling lies and upholding truth! Don’t worry, Jacques! With me on the case, you’ll have nothing to fear!”

In other words… he’d be happy to come.

It's just not the same without the goggles...

[Lexxi]

She looked at him oddly, pausing for only a moment in her sprint to return to the camp she had originally come from. He was an odd character, that was for sure, but oddly enough he was very reassuring to be with. She wasn’t completely sure if she could believe he could slay a dragon like Reno, but it was better than going alone and ending up like a roast chicken. Jacques flashed him a smile, but it quickly faded as the wooden sides of the caravans came into view.
“Good to know…”

The camp was nestled in a small clearing surrounded by a tight circle of pure white birch trees and raspberry bushes overflowing with plump red fruit. It wasn’t all that big and the wagons seemed to form a wall to keep unwanted strangers out aside from the 2 foot gaps between them and the much larger opening to the other side. It looked almost authentic, a kind of scene one might have seen being pulled down the road by oxen, but instead, the Vegas sisters used large and well toned Clydesdales with shaggy white manes and earthen tone hides. At one point, they had used a truck to get them by, but Reno happened to say that vehicles made them look less appealing and the truck was sold to by the horses now tied off near the center by a fire pit of ashes and slightly burned logs. There were four of the larger horses, one dark brown (Bermington), one the shade of beach sand (Oxford), and the last two twins in a murky crimson (Ferdinan and Hercules) , and then another, more flashy horse with a body of white and mane of woven silver (Thunder). They stood beside a dark blue wagon with the word “Circus” painted in fading gold linking to the others to form a ring reading “The Vegas Sisters Circus” and the sound of a large cat, growling and pacing, could be heard from within.

The others each held the name of a different sister as well as a rather cartoon-ish painting of its owner. One read “Epona the Horse Whisperer,” next read “Atlanta of the Sky,” next read “Reno the Magnificent” and the last was blank aside from a poorly painted J. There was no sign of the other Vegas girls as Jacques entered, once again catching Raz’s arm to hold it tight in her grip, and she gave a sigh of relief. It was by the grace of God that Reno had given up yelling to her for now. Jacques released Raz again and leaned back against the wooden side of one of the wagons to catch her breath and silence her racing thoughts. It had nearly given her a heart attack when she’d heard her calling her name and now she was exhausted mentally. Still, she couldn’t help but laugh a little at how panicked she’d been and how fast she’d come running.
“Looks like we’re safe for now,” she stated quietly as she pushed herself back onto her feet and shuffled into the camp where small wisps of smoke were still rising from the fire pit’s flickering embers. Jacques then turned back to Raz and gave a crooked smile.
“Welcome to the Vegas Sister’s Circ- err…camp!”

[Kero]

People noticed the oddest things when they first walked into someplace. Usually, it was never something they really had a conscious thought about. It was just something of note. A random happenstance that caught their attention before, ironically in most cases, the more important things could have. What the boy should have noticed when he first walked into camp would probably have been the run down look of the place, and the way the place was set up like a traditional Gypsy caravan would be against the intrusion of the outside world. What he should have noticed first, perhaps, was the uniquely beautiful setting, the picture perfect set to everything, even the animals. And he did notice those things, but not first and foremost.

What Raz noticed first was that there was nothing but a crude J on what had to be Jacques’ ‘room’, his eyes narrowing as he briefly thought ‘that’s not fair…’. Then again, with the girl’s demeanor, he really wasn’t as surprised as he should have been.

“‘Safe’?” turning to Jacques after she’d grabbed and then released his arm, Raz looked at her with that inquiring, intelligent gaze that the boy often got when he was thinking about something or other, his eyes roving behind her, and then all around the camp, “How much trouble could it be to bring me in here? …Will we have to run if they come back? I’m not sure that’s much of a welcome… but… thanks anyhow…”

Curious, he wasn’t sure how much trouble Jacques’ family could possibly be. Raz had sisters, certainly, but they rarely got too out of line, and he liked them most of the time beyond the fact that they were girls and did girl things, while he and his brothers did the stuff guys liked to do… except he didn’t usually get included in much of that, being the second youngest. His younger sister was too attached to his mom to be much fun, too, and with an interest in comic books, Raz got left to himself usually.

The idea of having something to fear in one’s own family wasn’t alien to him at all. Rather than think about it, though, Raz let his eyes drift until they reached the horses, glancing to the girl that had brought him here, “Hey…. Can we look at the horses?”

[Lexxi]

It was odd, looking at her own camp like an outsider. There was no sign of any of them and it made her feel like something was wrong. She was always with one of them, always tagging along behind one sister or the other and being without them was like being a puppy who’s master had stepped out for the evening. The silence aside from the subtle crackle of the embers was not as comforting as she might have expected it to be and left her with an anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach. Jacques shifted a bit to take a step away from the circle of caravans like it might show her something she’d missed if she gave a bit more distance, but still it was empty, barren, and alien. From within his cage, Keego, a large Siberian tiger they’d picked up a while back, gave a low growl and from back at their post, the horses stomped their hooves in an attempt to get comfortable with standing on the unfamiliar ground. There was no sound of her sister’s practice music and no yelling like usual. Jacques bit her tongue a bit in thought as she continued to survey the area. At the suggestion that her sisters might chase them out, she blinked a few times and gave another tilt of her head.
“Oh no, not at all! Reno would just yell at me and you…”
She trailed off when she heard her sister’s voice from inside her caravan on the far side of the ring and almost sighed with relief. At least they were around. Finally able to rest easy, she allowed the thought of Reno’s rage to slip away from her and gave a smile at the mention of the horses she took such pride in. After all, it was her job to tend to them every time she had to and it had become her pride and joy since the whole juggling thing wasn’t quite working out. It was she who had taught Thunder to prance like a champion and she who brushed the Clydesdales every morning 150 times each. It was her livelihood. Taking his hand, she brought him over to the large creatures that watched them with deep, sullen eyes. “This is Oxford, Hercules, Bermington, Ferdinand, and the one on the end is Thunder.”
Each horse flicked their ears at the sound of their name and Jacques ran her hand over the smooth surface of Ferdinand’s muzzle. Oxford snorted slightly and nudged Raz in the back curiously while the others simply stared; Thunder looking bored as ever as her shook his elegant head and turned away from him.
“The big ones pull the caravans and Thunder is a show horse. Trained him myself well…with a little help from Epona, but she doesn’t like horses much anymore.” Jacques didn’t even realized she was rambling. It wasn’t often she got a moment in time where someone took interest in her. She rarely spoke of her life because she rarely spoke to anyone who didn’t already know or hadn’t already stated that they didn’t care. She felt uplifted.

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[Kero]

There was something about animals that the boy had always liked. Not in the ‘let’s catch it on fire’ way of most of the campers, though he’d done his share of that, too. It was more an easygoing, respectful affection that came from a person who had grown up with many various animals (usually of a dangerous persuasion). Certainly, Raz hadn’t been like Jacques, though. It had never been his job to take care of the animals at his family circus, though he had visited them when he couldn’t get at his comics or try to practice his psychic ways, because it had been his father’s decision for him to become an acrobat.

Raz understood a lot more now than he had even a year ago, and so did his father. Things at the family circus weren’t quite the same, though much of it was similar. Being back in a caravan like his own was what made his thoughts go back to home, but this one wasn’t quite so large, and not nearly as well-kept. He found himself frowning a little and wanting to repaint or touch up things here and there while Jacques had wandered a little to seek out whatever it was she was looking for, her sisters or whatever else. The thought of being yelled at for being in here didn’t sit well with him either, though it was much less dynamic a thought than being kicked out. He had to suppose that he could handle anything those mysterious kin of this girl had to throw at him, though.

In fact, he knew he could, with the kind of egotistical certainty only an 11-year-old boy could have had. They didn’t bother him when, by being here, standing around with the familiar, earthy smell of his summer camp permeating the air, Raz felt more at home than he had in a long time.

When Jacques smiled at his question, Raz smiled back; he was glad to have asked about something that seemed to make her happy. He got the feeling that she was really rarely happy, ever, and helping even a little with that seemed to be one step in the right direction. In any event, the horses were utterly beautiful, each and every one. And having been around horses a lot in his life, Raz was one of the few people who could utterly appreciate how good a care was taken to them.

“Oh, wow…”

While he was listening to Jacques’ talk, Raz laughed a little, turning around to pet Oxford as the draft horse nosed him in the back. It was a little sad that he had no treats to give them. He usually always had a treat for Maybelle, the world’s smallest pony back home. He had a lot to treat her for, after all; she’d gotten him to this camp in one piece.

“She doesn’t, huh?” blinking with his own large eyes back at Jacques in an expression that was almost completely opposite to the horses, considering how much youthful spirit was in there, the boy looked entirely interested in her story, “You take really good care of these horses, Jacques. So what does Thunder know how to do?” He thought of the show horse as a little high-strung, considering Thunder’s reaction to new people. But that was really to be expected. After all, show horses were just ‘that kind’ of breed. What he was impressed with, though, was that none of the horses shied away at the arrival of a new person. That was only another testament to how well Jacques had trained them.

[Lexxi]

There was the slightest wisp of a smile upon her lips, but it disappeared just as quickly with the pass of the wind in the trees. She didn’t respond, only gave a low whistle that caused Thunder’s head to jerk upright and stand as if a soldier at attention. As she drew near, his ears twitched in a deep show of apprehension and alertness and his eyes swam with an immense focus that constricted the milky brown irises. When she untied his tether from the thick base of the tree, the other horses stepped back to allow him free range of the small clearing and Jacques led the tall, graceful Arabian out to the center. Thunder stood stalk still in the shadow of the clearing. Even as the breeze slipped by him and shifted the silvery strands of his mane, he did not twitch or bat one of his long eyelashes. He simply stood, head held high and his muscular breast moving up and down with his careful breathes. Jacques paced around him in a slow circle as he stood, hands clasped behind her back, eyes scanning him for any fault, and then stopped in front of him before raising her arms in a florish to either side like a ringmaster presenting her show. She cleared her throat and the horse’s ears went back. “Ladies and gentleman,” she stated to her crowd of 4 horses and a lone boy.
“The Vegas Sister’s Circus proudly presents, Thunder!”

Jacques ducked into a low bow like that of a swan and in a push of two very powerful back legs, Thunder leapt over her and landed elegantly in a full stand, turning in a circle before falling back and posing with one leg raised. He then bowed as she had, muzzle low to the ground, and Jacques quickly settled upon his back sidesaddle with the looks of a true showgirl about her broad, if not smug, expression. He moved at a prance in a circle around the others where the other horses were snorting and whinnying at there post and Jacques laughed before turning herself to sit properly upon the back of the show horse who never faltered in his careful rounds and never lowered his veil of untouchable grace. When at last he reached Raz again, Jacques slipped forward off his shoulders and turned. They bowed to one another like partners after a waltz and then to their imaginary audience. They were perfectly balanced and timed exactly in every step.

Pulling off her head band so her long hair was let fall over her eyes, Jacques smiled with modest pride that, within, was overwhelming her. She’d never shown anyone things like that. Most didn’t even know that Epona’s act was her act and that, while her sister could barely touch the equestrian beast, she could perform it flawlessly. Raz was the first she had shared anything with. “So what do you think? We’re a bit rusty and that was only a taste, but Thunder is wonderful during the shows.” Thunder shook his head and allowed her to lead him back to his tether as she retied the strip of cloth at her forehead and then offered the horse an apple she had been keeping in her sash. He took it in gratitude and nickered with pleasure as he chewed the sweet fruit and Jacques carefully smoothed down the front of his mane with the back of her hand. “Good boy,” she cooed in a gentle tone; retying the rope to hold him to the tree and then looking back to Raz with the same, broad smile upon her pale face. She felt like she’d accomplished something. While the world would never know her talents, at least one person would and that was all that mattered to her.

[Kero]

Growing up in a circus, one would think shows, no matter what they were, or who was performing them, would become old after a while. With repetition, most things, even the most interesting things, became boring, in need of spice, or just something that people lost interest in. Certainly that was true of most adults. They worked all their lives to achieve at something and when they finally attained it, within a few years, they were unhappy again.

One would have thought that was part of the reason Raz had left the circus. Few knew that it really wasn’t.

His heart seemed to leap with the glory of the white beast when Thunder sailed through the air, his mind spreading to envision the dark circus tent all around them on a warm summer night, with all the crowds cheering or waiting with bated breath and the pictures flashing almost continuously. It was a pounding scene of excitement, and his blood quickened a bit. He didn’t need the camera flashes to see Thunder’s well-groomed hide sparkle, to imagine Jacques in a beautiful show rider’s costume. Her grace and power here was nothing like that of her previous faltering baby steps that had led up to the juggling balls raining down around her head, and he wouldn’t have imagined that type of confidence was something she was capable of if he hadn’t been seeing it himself.

The prancing, the fluid steps… It was all like a careful dance, and Raz turned himself slowly to keep the two in sight as they circled him and the draft horses, until Jacques leapt down, bowed, and untied her hair. The vision of a circus slowly faded from his mind, until he was left, staring at the two as they went to get everything tied back up and treated. Just an anything but normal girl and the horses that she loved, trying to act modest about an extraordinary ability.

“Uh, rusty?” as usual, eloquence left him for a moment in the wake of all that, and he cleared his throat, giving Oxford another affectionate little pat on the nose before he walked over to the girl, “Jacques, you’re better than half the people at my circus at show horse stuff…. Why is your sister having you practice juggling when you’re so good at all this?” He raised a hand a little to Thunder, just to let the horse smell him and see if the white and silver Arabian accepted him before he would attempt to pet him. After all, show horses were good working animals and deserved to be respected.

“Uh… not to say you shouldn’t practice juggling or anything… just….. Jacques… I mean… I really liked it…” the boy bit his lip a little, wincing to himself thinking he might have said the wrong thing.

[Lexxi]

The Arabian tentatively took in his scent, a soft rush of hot breath moving across his palm as he inhaled and exhaled. His gave a flicker of his ears as if thinking, then laid his head lightly upon the boy’s hand. Though there was no apple, he was more than grateful for the attention he so rarely received when Jacques was not around. At this moment, she stood at his side and lightly ran her slightly chilled fingers through the silvery threads of his flowing mane. She could picture him every time she looked at the horse with his hair tied in braid and his headdress shimmering, yet she had never seen it. He always came back to her as Thunder, the slightly obnoxious stallion, never Thunder, the Wonder Horse. There were times when she wished more than anything that it could be her performing the show upon his back with the spotlight beating down upon her. Sometimes she wished they could push her sister aside to make room for her act that would take center ring each and every day, but she knew it would never happen. Jacques gave a slight sigh, then gave the lead a slight tug to ensure it would not allow the horse any chances of pulling free. She tried her best to keep a small smile upon her face and shrugged.


“Epona rides the horses, not me. We all get assigned by Reno and that’s what we do….we do what we’re told and nothing else.” Though she spoke them with the utmost care and honesty, each word held a bitter note that made her sentence seem flat. There was no talking about her sisters without seeming unwilling and cold. Jacques turned away slightly when she realized it, deciding suddenly to check the other leads holding the horses to their post. She didn’t want anything happening to them that she could be blamed for, especially when she was already in trouble. For a few moments, she kept her eyes away from Raz and tended to the horses, testing the temperature of their water, spreading a bit more hay for them to eat instead of the grass, then finally looked back when the horses began to eat quietly; no longer paying them any mind.

She looked a bit sad, knowing that when she was in this family, her dreams hardly mattered. No matter how good she was with the horses, there was no chance of Reno ever letting her have a chance. Jacques was the one they never wanted in the first place. “Besides, they have seniority over me. I have to ‘earn my stripes’ before I get to really be a center ring act.” Once again, she had a smile as whimsical and free as ever, suddenly forgetting it all like the wind had blown it from her. Jacques strolled from Oxford’s side. “I’m sorry, what were we talking about again?”

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[Kero]

It was hard to keep her eyes off from him, and Raz couldn’t help but notice when he was following the girl about (and closely) as she did her little chores, wondering what was really up with her in the way that a younger person wondered about things. She didn’t seem like she liked praise all that much, and the boy’s spirit dimmed a little as he figured that if all she was saying was true, then this little Circus they ran here would never really get any better, and that even though he was trying to help, he was really just an annoyance.

He’d gotten that feeling a lot in the past year…

“….sorry….” he said it in the same moment she apologized, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck and wincing as he realized that he’d spoke at the same time as her, and that he probably looked ridiculous because he still didn’t have his goggles. There was a topic that would make an excellent change of subject, though! Moving to take his backpack off, which had all the psychonauts badges on them, as he realized but didn’t really take much notice beyond to run a finger over a few appreciatively. The thought that she might wonder what they were never occurred to him as he opened it up to take his goggles out and show her the broken strap, “Hey….. I’ve kinda been meaning to ask you this, but do you have anything handy to fix this kind of thing? I kinda need these for my image… they’re my favorite pair.” He’d really appreciate the help if she could give it, and he tried to make that known through his eyes, looking at her as hopefully as a lost puppy in the rain.

[Lexxi]

There was a curious glint to her eyes as the boy removed his backpack from his shoulder and began to rummage through its contents. Her gaze, however, was locked upon the badges sewn ever so carefully onto the crimson flap in front. They formed a neat little ring around a single other in their center and each held a rather interesting picture. There was a pair of eyes, a set of crosshairs, and even a human-like figure that seemed to be disappearing. They little array of colors seemed to dance in her mind as she observed them each in earnest and came to the decision that her particular favorite was a simple question mark upon a green canvas fabric. However, her examination was cut short when he spoke again and slung the pack over his shoulder once again; Jacques blinking a few times and locking a wide, curious gaze upon the object held in his open palm. She recognized them quite quickly, Raz having been wearing them when she first arrived at the fence, and smiled a little. They were, quite obviously, goggles and apparently much beloved goggles by the way he spoke, and Jacques gave a slight tilt of her head as she observed them; reaching out to pluck them from his hand and get a better look.

They were simple enough. Not professional, but if he ever had to fly a plane in a hurry, they would certainly do the trick. She ran her thumb over the rims of the crimson tinted lenses and then turned them over to where the break had occurred. Her brow furrowed slightly. “Well, I think I could find something to patch these up…Shouldn’t be too hard.” She turned and motioned for him over her shoulder as she reentered the circle of caravans which was silent and empty aside from the occasional low growl of the tiger with the far left wagon. It was as if the other sisters in the little brigade had up and vanished upon their arrival, but, in Jacques opinion, it was better that way. Less time dealing with them meant more time enjoying a bit of company.

Walking past the smoking fire pit, Jacques made her way toward a pile of old, dully colored trunks. It took her only moments to pick out a particularly large red one and throw it upon, leaning over to sift through it contents while biting her tongue in concentration. It was silent for a moment as she tossed out fabrics, sewing kits, and odds and ends of costume design, but then she spoke, trying her best to make sure he didn’t wander off and get her in trouble. “So, what are those things on your backpack? They look like boy scout badges. Are you a boy scout?” she questioned as she tossed out another wad of bright pink fabric into the dirt.

[Kero]

So much could be said with fabric. How one dressed, what kind of styles they wore and what colors they chose over others, were some of the biggest indications of personality and individuality known to mankind. Being a species based primarily on sight, how one looked communicated much more than just basic perception, as well. It could communicate health, social status, idea, one’s view on the world, comedy, and even bring people who shared similar interests together. For Raz, his own wardrobe was rather large and varied in the styles he wore, all of them geared to state one thing or another. It was part of the reason why his goggles, a piece of his current outfit, were so precious to him. Beyond that, it was one of the few things he father had gotten for him on his seventh birthday, and he refused to let something so rare be lost because the straps were getting worn with use.

It was almost comic, how Raz followed after Jacques much like a duckling after it’s mother, worry creasing his features and his spidery hands clasping behind his back, fiddling his fingers in a perfect picture of anxiousness. The idea, though, that she would have the materials to fix the goggles was nothing short of the best news he’d heard in a long time, and the boy found himself suddenly grinning in relief as he stood behind her, trying to peer around her curiously into the red trunk while at the same time dodging missiles of the fabric kind. So it was no surprise that he had to think about what she’d said for a moment after skipping out of the way of the bright pink wad she’d thrown, his eyes widening while he rose a hand to take a tight grip on the strap of the backpack he wore.

“What? No, of course I’m not a boy scout. Boy scouts are silly….” He paused suddenly as he realized what she’d seen, cursing himself for not thinking of a suitable cover story for all those merit badges of the psychic persuasion beforehand, “They’re just…. you know…. rewards… for things. They’re not really… I mean… I-I’m not a boy scout...” his plan not to tell her where he came from was fast dissolving around his ears, a nervous trill settling itself with a smirking smugness deep in his belly. He was torn between wanting to tell her in order to show off, and not telling her anything so she wouldn’t ether try to get into the camp where it was dangerous for normal people or maybe not want to be friends with him anymore. Normal people were kinda hard to judge on those things, and Raz wasn’t any sort of precog, so he didn’t know anything before it happened.

[Lexxi]

“Well, what did you do to earn them? It must have been something amazing.“ Jacques was not deterred by his apparent reluctance to talk about it. She was curious, young, and persistent to the point of being stubborn. If she wanted to know, she planned on learning. However, she did not look up in her search to hear his response.

The fabrics moved by her like she were tearing apart a rainbow, strip by strip. Some were textured, tickling her fingertips as she drew them from them pile and tossed them aside, some were thin like Persian scarves and danced in the summer air as they drifted gently to the earth, and others held patterns that shimmered and caused one to go cross-eyed at the sight of them. There were yards of them just waiting to be used for one of Reno’s many costume designs and spilled over the ground in fold after fold of silks and satins. With each Jacques retrieved and discarded over her shoulder, the pile at her feet grew and she dipped a bit further into the trunk like it had no end to what it could contain. When at last she reached the bottom, leaning over at a near perfect bend of her toned spine, she paused in her rummaging and seemed to observe something in her hand. Placing her feet firmly back upon the ground, she stood up straight once more and pushed back her hair from her eyes. In her palm, she held a few pieces of, what appeared to be, brown elastic. They hung down in her grip like tongues, each a different length, and were lightly coated in dust from lying dormant so long at the bottom of the chest.

She compared them, her tongue sticking out in concentration, to the broken ends of the goggles. The color was good, the lengths could be adjusted, Jacques nodded in satisfaction then began replacing the miles of fabrics back into the trunk. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing because it wont work. I want you to tell the truth or else I wont be fixing your goggles,” Jacques teased. She wouldn’t deny him help even if he refused to speak to her. Setting the last of the fabrics back in place, she closed the lid and then retrieved a needle from her sash; settling on the top of the trunk and setting to work patching the break.

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[Kero]

All it took was to have interest in one piece of fabric for disaster to strike. The boy was unsuspecting when the shimmery, hard to discern fabric of a long strip of cloth caught his eye as it floated past him, and when he went to pick it up, he found himself suddenly draped in another. More came quickly, too quickly to be struggled out of easily, until the kid found himself in a virtual trap of brightly colored fabrics. It wasn’t as much starling as annoying, though he tried to struggled quietly, making only small noises and curses while he stumbled around behind the girl, constantly getting hit by more of the material until he looked much like a brightly colored mummy.

Just before she turned around, though, and finally getting tired of being covered by fabric, Raz quickly used his telekinetic powers to lift the pile off from himself and place it on the ground as if nothing happened, grinning a bit nervously afterward. Jacques had not seen him, though, and after a moment he relaxed… at least he relaxed until the girl found what she was looking for, and Raz easily flicked the shimmery piece of fabric in the trunk as he went to go look.

“That looks great!” he spoke with a grin that faded a bit as Jacques pressed on about the badges, his gaze turning a bit away, “Uh…. You sure you wanna know? I mean, you might find it a bit weird or something, and you know…. y-you won’t?” He had such a hurt look on his face as she declared she might refuse to fix the goggled that he looked much like a huge, sad, green-eyed puppy.

[Lexxi]

Each movement was a gentle sweep of perfect, finely tuned hands. The thread moved after her like the tail of a comet and caught the light in a glint of woven gold before becoming trapped in the leather and forming a dotted line to hold the pieces in place. She was swift with her motions and precise with where she broke the needle through until she reached one edge and was forced to turn it the other way. Jacques kept her eyes focused on her work, but one could tell she heard Raz. When her deep blue eyes gave a single, quick glance up to him, she gave a smile of warmth and whimsy. There had always been a certain innocence about the girl. The way she saw the world gave her a spirit of light hearted, good temperament and it left her in an almost constant and oblivious state. Jacques was young at heart as well as in body.

At the sight of the look upon his face, her smile only grew and she gave a shake of her head to show the humor she found in it. Jacques turned her work a bit and moved a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh come on, I live in a circus.” The word rolled off her tongue with a certain bitter tone and she almost bit through it at the way it struck her. One might compare it to being pierced through with an arrow and this one had made its way straight through the center of her heart. Jacques turned her eyes back to her work to keep herself steady in her work. “I’m sure whatever it is, it’s not as weird as you think.”

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