So many reasons... Chapter 2
Jun 1, 2024 22:49:27 GMT -5
Jonathan Barrows and Cªptain Rightəºus/Lªɗƴ Łıɓerṭy like this
Post by TheNewBreed on Jun 1, 2024 22:49:27 GMT -5
The brightly colored curtain flapped and billowed out front of the colossal tent erected for the event tonight... massive poles dug into the dirt floor and soar into the heights carrying the shelter's many hued fabrics into the sky supporting the roof. The excited chatter of the crowd grows louder and louder as the people file in and find seats among the wooden benches erected inside, and vendors flit here and there looking to sell cotton candies and popcorn to fervent customers who had come to enjoy the night under the big top and the energy in the air was heavy, tinged with electricity as the anticipation grew with each minute that passed.
After the men and women had ushered their children into the tent and settled themselves around the seating surrounding the circle of dirt that would be their stage for the night, the calliope began to chirp and twang a famous circus song through the PA System placed around the tent.
What a night this was sure to be...
“Ladies and Gentleman... children of all ages... welcome... to the BIG TOP!” a deep gravel voice echoed through the crowd.
“Here... dreams come true and anything can happen... but beware... for terrors and torments are not far from dreams in a place such as this... and everything is not quite what it seems!” the voice droned as a few of the children screamed, frightened by the thought of dangers and nightmares dancing in their heads.
“Here at the Circus of Myst-ery... reality is subjective and everything is all a part of the show!” the voice chimed in cheerily as the curtain parted at the door once again.
There in the entrance to the tent, a massive figure of a man stood in a white button up shirt with a wide collar and a pair of black slacks with golden stripes sparkling in the spotlights running up each side tucked into the top of a pair of shining black boots. The spotlights spun across the crowd and then back across the stage as the golden filigree of the alabaster and gold mask he wore on his face glinted in the lights as he bowed to the crowd, low and proper, crossing his ankles and flaring his left arm wide to his side, palm upward, as his right crossed over his waist.
“I know some would expect the Circus of Myst-ery to be led by a different celebrity...” the gravely voice churned as John Cable made his way into the center ring of the big top.
“But as I said before... nothing here is as it seems... but it is as it should be.” he said as he slid the shimmering white mask with the golden accents from his gruesome face, and in a puff of purple smoke, the mask vanished and there in his hand was a tall black top hat with a red ribbon around the base and a golden buckle adorned just off center to the left.
The children whooped and the ladies clapped lightly as the men laughed and cheered a hooray for the unexpected magic trick to start the show.
“You see, a Ringmaster is more than just the leader of the show. He is the direction and the discipline... the one who makes sure the show flows and ebbs with the proper cadence and he ensures that the crowd gets their money's worth. He's trusted to produce and direct the entire show from here at ringside, and he is definitely responsible for the safety of the performers and for the execution of the show in it's best form... all for you.” John says with a grin as he rolls the top hat across the back of his hand, ducks his head and shoulders, and lets the hat roll up his arm, behind his neck and down the other arm to grab it by the brim in the other hand to raucous cheers for the cheap trick.
“There's too much on the shoulders of the Ringmaster to lay that responsibility on someone who can't carry the weight. Too much work and dedication to their talents go into each show to have it be treated with anything less than the utmost reverence... and to that end... Jenny Myst could never be the Ringmaster of a show this layered with passion and devotion to perfection in all facets of the show. No... while she may believe herself to be capable...” John smirks before he snaps his fingers and a slender black magic wand pops into existence in his hand.
With a dramatic flourish and a surprised gasp from the crowd, Cable waves the wand before him and in another puff of purple smoke, a coat rack springs into existence in the middle of the dirt ring with one coat hanging from the side. John takes the fancy red coat in his hand and shakes it once, twice, and then a third time as a flood of bunnies start popping out of the coat from thin air and rushing into the crowd, darting back and forth beneath the bleachers to a riotous gout of laughter from the audience at the surprise. Joyous mirth spreads among them as the giggles die down some and Cable turns to stare at the crowd, jacket in hand.
“More chaos than a gaggle of rabbits is the circus life, and it takes a special someone to balance this much responsibility... someone like me... with the experience to carry a company like this one to the top... the Big Top as it were... where it belongs.” he explains as he slides his arm in to the coat, pulls it across his massive shoulders, and then slides his other arm into the jacket, pulling the collar and straightening his shirt beneath.
“So... ladies and gentlemen... children from near and far... welcome to my show... and prepare for the unexpected... and now... away we go into the dangerous adventure before us...” John excitedly shouts to the crowd as the lights go out and green spotlights spring to life spinning around the tent, swirling across the crowd within.
“If not the Ringmaster... perhaps Jenny could find herself cast as the fearless Lion Tamer? The feral nature of wild beasts versus the iron will of humanity, dedication to the animals in their care and the ever present danger of the massive felines who with one swipe could end their lives... yet flawless in their training and their control over forces far beyond their means to truly command.” John says to the crowd as the green spotlights give way to brighter white lights beaming down on three barrels arranged around the dirt stage, three majestic lions perched on their fore-paws with their heads pulled back in a regal pose, their manes shimmering in the lights as the crowd gasps at the size of the massive cats.
“A Lion Tamer must be fearless and maintain control every moment... as these animals are powerful and fast indeed.” Cable instructs as the curtain parts again, and a man in a plain white mask with short dark hair makes his way towards the center ring.
The three lions turn their heads at the same time and each let loose a low growl as he makes his way closer and closer. His khaki shorts and brown leather boots are scuffed and well worn. His white tank top shows off his chiseled shoulders and arms, and as he makes his way towards the circle he unfurls a long length of a leather from behind his back as he cracks the whip in midair to the surprise of the crowd and the lions alike. Several shrill shrieks echo around the tent to laughter from the crowd before the lions roar loudly and bring the entire tent to silence in a moment.
The sound was visceral, and carried a weight across the crowd that was driven by fear. They could feel the power of the lions in those roars, and their instincts told them to be afraid... and each in turn forgot their resolve and obeyed that desire to be fearful against their own will power.
The man stepped into the circle and strode across the front of the barrels where the lions were posed as the crowd watched on in awe and amazement reaching his hand out and as he passed them each, he booped them squarely on the snoot gently one at a time as he made his first pass across the dirt stage.
The crowd clapped at his bravery. Some of the children huddled against their mothers or fathers, peeking from beneath their tiny little fingers in fear for the Tamer and his very precarious situation.
Once more the masked Tamer cracked his whip as the lions growled and roared, and then with a marked pace the Tamer walked back across the barrels in front of the lions patting his hand on the edge of the barrel and then pointing his hand up in the air in front of each one. A he motioned them, one after another, they each sat back on their haunches and lifted their paws into the air, pawing at the sky like kittens at play as the children clapped and hoots of approval ring out among the crowd.
The man waves his thanks at the crowd with one hand and cracks his whip into once more as the lions growl and roar again, annoyed at the sound each time, but still sitting up pawing the air for the fans. The masked Tamer turns back to the crowd and bows for their cheers, before making his way to the center of the dirt ring, and motioning his arms up in the air and flattening his palms out as s sign for their next trick. Slowly, the lions climb up on the barrels and sit regally with their ears pointed up and their heads pulled back, chests out and poised, warily watching the Tamer before them as the crowds cheers again with a soft patter of hands clapping as the lions take their places on the barrels.
“As you can see, dedication and patience are the Lion Tamers allies as they mold the temperaments of their animals and train them to be disciplined and studious performers. The nature of the Beast, however, places the Tamer in a very dangerous position. On the one hand, the show is integral and when it goes according to plan, can be one of the most enjoyable experiences of the crowd at the Big Top... but... when the plan in the Tamers mind and instincts of the wild animal before them are at odds... a battle of courage is not always enough for the Tamer. Nature is not kind... not is it always beautiful.” John flashes another grin from beneath the mask as the Tamer makes another wave of thanks and cracks his whip to applause from the crowd.
The Tamer turns with a flourish of the whip as it cracks in the dirt and makes a motion towards the first lion on the barrel to continue the show, but instead of obedience, the lion flinched, recoiled and roared at the Tamer. Shocked, the Tamer flinched, and in that moment... control shredded like the sails of a small boat in a hurricane... the lions eyes flared to life, remembering he was the King of he Jungle not a kitten on a talk show, and fear flooded the Tamer.
“A Lion Tamer must be brave... must be fearless... for in doubt... control is lost.” John says to the crowd in explanation of the nature of the Beast as the lion roared again, and pounced down from the barrel onto the masked Lion Tamer and bit down on his shoulder. Blood sprayed out across the dirt floor as the massive cat shook his head and growled at the man in his jaws.
Children screamed and men shouted as the audience flew into a panic and fled up the bleachers away from the ringed stage. As the lion reared back and bit the man's face the second and third lion hopped down from their barrels growling too, and each took an ankle in their mouths as the first lion got up and roared at the crowd in triumph. The screams rang out once more in terror as the crowd recoiled this time, fear of the natural order exerting it's dominance on existence driving them to madness.
“Again... I just don't see Jenny having the resolve to successfully tame a wild animal, let alone a Beast. The doubt that plagues her is far too heavy a burden to bear for one who most know no fear... and fear she has... rightfully so. She is afraid of her irrelevance... she is afraid of her ideals... and she is most certainly afraid of being seen as weak.” John says soothingly to the crowd as the lions drag the Tamer off towards the curtained entrance, still screaming as blood gurgles up in his mouth.
“No... a Tamer's life is not one for her... but perhaps there is still a place for Jenny here in the Circus of Myst-ery, yet? Let's continue our adventure and hope for a more successful outcome going forward or Ms. Myst's future here under the Big Top, shall we?” John asks with a gleeful cheer, hopeful for the success of the next act.
With that, a troupe of elegant gymnasts and acrobats come twirling and flipping through the entrance, careful to avoid stepping in the trails of blood streaking away from the ring and seeping into the dirt. Each face is once again covered by a plain white face plate mask and they wave excitedly towards the terrified crowd.
“Now, now... everyone... the show MUST go on, didn't you know? Here at the Circus of Myst-ery we accept that tragedy will befall us sometimes, and while we each will deal with our emotions in our own ways, we must always move forward and deliver our best performance... for all of you... and for ourselves. How else would we dodge our problems and avoid accountability for our actions but to just move forward without processing them in the first place, right?” John calmly says to try to ease the crowd's fears, and seems to sooth the masses just a bit as they begin to move back towards their seats.
The colorful costumes of the performers stretched across incredibly built physiques toned and honed for power and precision in movement as they made their way into the ring and bow for the crowd, moving right along as if the last act didn't end in a gruesome tragedy.
“Gymnasts, acrobats, contortionists... amazing feats of grace and a true example of the limits of human abilities. They are truly breathtaking in their elegant movements and their dedication to the way their form moves and tells a story with every slight detail.” John explains as they make their way into the ring finally to light cheers as the crowd settles back into the show a bit.
Three of the men begin to climb up impossibly thin poles using wooden pegs on either side to make their way up in to the air above the ring below. There, bars were hung for their aerial masterpiece, and they began to get ready as the men and women on the ground twirled and flipped around the dirt stage in intricate choreography of limbs and movement that was flowing and watery with it's grace and ease.
As the performers split down the middle of their group, three men ran in through the gap, sprinting for a few steps and springing into the air, the left and right men twirling and corkscrewing through the air in flawless Zapatas landing posed directing in front of the crowd presenting the man in the center launching himself into the air with an incredible Liuken flip, landing a perfect spot and raising his arms to the crowd as they all cheered wildly, finally forgetting he horror of minutes before.
“Incredible talents there, but raise your attention high above now to the soaring daredevils of the Big Top here in the Circus of Myst-ery!”
As promised, high above the audience in the roof of the billowing tent, the three men who had dared to climb the thinnest of poles were now ready to begin. Each grabbed their rung, and swung into the void above the crowd, soaring to and fro, building momentum as they flew through the sky. One of the men changed position mid air with a flip and hung from his rung by his knees to gasps from the crowd. As they swung there, the second man growing close to the first, flipped from his rung and let go, flipping himself over and over before grabbing the arms of the other acrobat swinging by.
The crowd roared at that, amazed by the daring of the men sailing through the air above them. They continued on for some like this, flying back and forth occasionally flipping from one rung to another and catching each other to astonished cheering below.
“It takes great focus and concentration to accomplish such incredible feats of strength and agility. Lifetimes of training and dedication to their bodies goes into each and every performance, and for men and women like these, the greatest feats are the most dangerous ones. They are risky at best, and deadly at worst... and to be among them few who can pull them off sets you into an elite category of performers, even among your own. It's how Legends are made, and those few who put their lives on the line for greatness are few and far between... even fewer still who find success and live to see their fruitful endeavors be realized. Many men and women have put their full faith in their abilities, but in the end... many fall short of the glory they seek.” John says somberly as the three men swing through the air overhead and the acrobats on the ground stare upwards with the crowd to see what happens next.
One of the men grabs onto his perch and the other two swing back and forth towards one another as the crowd below looks on. Back and forth they swing, over and over, and as they begin to draw close once more, the one man brings his legs up, coiled to himself before thrusting his legs out, straight as an arrow and releasing into a twisting corkscrew Miatchi. The second man reached, grabbed... and missed as the man's hands flew past his own...
Women clutched their children... men clutched their families... screams rang out across the tent.
With a thud, the body of the brave acrobat who stretched for greatness but missed felt to the dirt floor. The man left swinging above grabbed his face in his hands as he watched the masked flier fall to his death... and the rest of the ones on the ground rushed to the body of their mangled friend as the other man began his treacherous dissent from high above the crowd.
“No... I don't think that Jenny has the focus required to rely on her skills and abilities to keep her out of trouble either. She lacks the discipline to function with the precision required, and inevitably, someone who relied on her would find out the hard way. Simple mistakes and errors can wreak havoc in a finely tuned machine, and when the base skills are so rudimentary, its hard to build an advanced platform on inferior parts. Unfortunately, mistakes happen, but the most important thing when we fail is to pick up the pieces and move on... heal from the damage done and find a way to stop ourselves from dwelling on the past failures so that we can find the strength to reach for success again.” John says optimistically as the masked acrobats gather their friend onto a stretcher and carry him back towards the curtain as children weep across the tent and their parents frantically try to comfort them in their sadness at the traumas they've witnessed tonight.
Unrest grows swiftly among the crowd as men turn their dour faces towards Cable trying to sooth the children nearby. A grumble resonates among the crowd as murmurs and low voices grow among them.
“Maybe... just maybe... there is place for her yet somewhere in the Circus of Myst-ery.” John say as the crowd start to boo, upset by what they have seen and the premise of this entire satire playing out before them.
Just then, the curtained entrance flies open again, and in the face of all the gruesome violence we have already been witness to, a rainbow painted Smart car comes whizzing through the door and careening up he walkway to the dirt ring, skidding to a halt in the middle of the stage. A panel slides to the rear on he roof of the car and a comically large bank of speaker spring forth and slam into place on the roof the tiny car as he fans struggle with their curiosity while still reeling from their anger. A brief moment passes before the speakers blare a fanfare of rolling brass and excited woodwinds as the audience is bathed in spotlights in all the colors of the rainbow twirling wildly through the stands.
“Now this... THIS is something I think Jenny would be good at.” John chuckles as the doors of the Smart car fly open and people in multicolored clown suits pop out, tumbling like an overstuffed closet breaking free of the confines of the door frame and spilling out across the dirt to the amazement and shock of the fans.
As the clowns untangle themselves, we see that each of them are women of small stature, their hair looped up in pigtails and died all sorts of colors. Each of them has gaudy makeup caked upon their faces in the style of Jenny Myst and a quirky smile plastered across their faces as clown fashion dictates.
“AH, Yes! Finally! A Position within the Circus of Myst-ery that Jenny actually qualifies for! The CLOWNS!” John roars out over the hubub of the growing ire of the crowd.
The Myst Clowns struggle to free themselves and begin to get up from the dirt, and help each other up as they go, but as they help another clown to their feet, one would trip over another and fall backwards with a whoopee cushion sound on impact that juxtaposes the horror of the previous acts with the potty humor of the clowns disturbing those in attendance and before long, like dominoes, they inevitably fell over again and became intertwined in the pile once more.
“Uncoordinated and messy... good for a laugh and a giggle... the occasional prank... but outside of a source of giddy glee at her misfortune... what good is she really? She had a great start, and a bright future full of potential... but realistically... the best she can hope for under the bright lights of the Big Top here at the Circus of Myst-ery is that we all laugh WITH her, and not AT her.” John scowls beneath the mask as vendors make their way into the crowd in the stands with trays and trays of sponge cake, offering it to the audience freely.
The angry fans grab handful after handful of the sponge cake and toss it, the crumbling yellow dessert careening towards the pile of clowns on the dirt floor beneath the crowd, now foaming and frothing at the mouth in a rage at the torturous event.
“The spotlight is far too bright for you here my dear... but soon... the darkness will show you peace.” John says as the lights go out and terrified screams are heard from all around.