bakerstreet | Cirque de la Lune

Cirque de la Lune

Cirque de la Lune is famous across the multiverse for its spectacular cast, each exquisite to behold as they perform feats of daring and wonder before enthralled audiences. Any privileged to attend a performance will never forget, for each show is filled with magic and splendor.

Literally.

For the secret of the Cirque de la Lune is that each performer is kidnapped, modified, and enslaved by the one who runs it, a mysterious figure known only as The Ringmaster. He draws the most promising, the most beautiful, and the most talented from any dimension to which he has access, then with a combination of magic and medicine transforms each into their fullest potential, a shining jewel to play their parts like marionettes on strings of his manufacture.

Will you be a part of the circus? Or are you one of the lucky few who's managed to procure a ticket? Step right up, then, and see what it has to offer....

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The kidnappings come without warning or a chance at escape: those summoned by The Ringmaster suddenly find themselves in the circus, so wound about by bindings both physical and magical they can hardly move, much less think of escape. Most are unconscious for the process of alterations, which could be considered a mercy considering how long and painful it is. The Ringmaster works with the careful precision of a master sculptor, and each of his creations bears a symbol of his craftsmanship that also serves to keep them under his unfaltering control.

As the symbol can only be removed by another person at the cost of their life, almost no one has ever even tried to escape the circus, and even if they did there would be the small issue of getting away from where it exists, suspended between dimensions. Most don't even realize they're being controlled, however, for the compulsions holding their imposed personae in place are subtle in their strength.

The best of The Ringmaster's creations, those who perhaps already possessed innate talent or beauty, or who simply adapted to the changes better than most, are fortunate enough to take their places in the First Circle. These are the most privileged and pampered, and each wears a tiny jewel in their ear to mark their rank.

1) Beast Tamer
Merciless and deadly, the Beast Tamer can subdue the most unruly animal with will and whip. They seek to dominate and control, no matter how meek or cowardly they might have once been.

2) Tightrope Walker
The Tightrope Walkers are the most exquisite jewels of the circus, delicate and graceful of form and movement and often breathtakingly lovely of face, able to dance butterfly-light on the finest of wires. They are also, however, often the most passive, the most controlled, like puppets crafted of fragile china.

3) Acrobats
Whether they are skilled as trapeze artists, hoop dancers, or tumblers, the Acrobats are all agile and quick of body-- and mind. Something about the changes made to allow their feats of skill also tends to make them more sly and cunning, more apt to lie or cheat to get ahead of the rest.

4) Strong (Wo)Man
These performers were enhanced for strength-- some were given added bulk and others simple toning, but all are significantly stronger than any unaltered human. Alas, they often lose some of their mental acuity in exchange for the physical enhancements, but none will ask a performer balancing an anvil to perform calculus.

Those without special skills or who did not adapt quite so well are still given places in the circus ranks, however, being placed in the Second Circle. Members of this group bear an unobtrusive bracelet around one wrist as a sign of their rank.

5) Clowns
Many a flaw can be hidden with makeup, and those who did not quite meet The Ringmaster's exacting standards of beauty must hide behind makeup and costume. Many are failed Acrobats, and as they are quite aware that only a small mischance prevented their admission to the First Circle, they spent much of their time plotting the downfall of those more privileged.

6) Sideshow Performers
These can include jugglers, fire-breathers, or knife-throwers, daredevils or magicians, those with clever hands and nimble tongues who can amuse the guests before the main show. Some failed Tightrope Walkers are veiled and costumed and put to work in a side tent as exotic dancers, while former Strong Men discourage the guests from getting too close (though rumor says they can be bribed, at times).

7) Beasts
The Beast Tamers must have creatures with which to perform, after all. Those who already wore the forms of beasts are enhanced, whether to look more beautiful or more deadly (or perhaps both), while some others are transformed entirely into lions or tigers or other fierce beasts to share in the main performance. Some of these unfortunates manage to retain their intelligence after the change, but others find themselves slipping away and becoming as mindless as the creatures whose forms they wear.

8) Sideshow Exhibit
The displays in the sideshow tent include those whose alterations fail, those who become trapped halfway between humanoid and beast form, or those who began in such an inhuman shape that they could never fit into the First Circle even with all The Ringmaster can do. Their existence is barely better than those of the animals, for they almost always remain caged, subject to the stares and giggles of the crowd. These again are guarded by former Strong Men, but they cannot be everywhere, and occasionally the mocking and stares of the guests devolve into worse.

The worst off of the circus denizens are those who inhabit the Third Circle. These unfortunates wear a plain leather collar as a sign of their rank, though none are likely to mistake them for a member of one of the other Circles.

9) Menials
Someone has to do the work of running the circus, after all. This group is unique in that not all of them were brought here involuntarily: some became lost and elected to remain, some sought employment, and some came seeking their missing friends and loved ones and chose to linger nearby in the vain hope that their memories might return. Most, however, are simply those too ordinary or unskilled to fit anywhere else, and they can be found just about anywhere in the circus, doing chores or maintenance, tending the animals, or selling concessions to the guests. They go everywhere, they see everything, but they do little of consequence, even if they aren't kept under as much control as the rest of the circus folk.

10) Slaves
These are the fallen, the failed, the grotesque, those who are too deformed to exhibit, too ugly or ungainly to be allowed to perform, or those who tried to escape and are now in disgrace. They remain hidden from the view of guests, serving as laborers in whatever manner The Ringmaster or the members of the First Circle might desire. (Rumors say the former prima Tightrope Walker attempted to run away from the circus, and now bent and disfigured from her punishment, cleans the quarters of the current prima.)

And what would a circus be without an audience?

11) Guests
It is difficult indeed to obtain a ticket to the circus, for most do not even known of its existence. Only the rich, the powerful, those who are well versed in dimensional travel, or somehow privileged to be given a ticket by The Ringmaster himself in return for some service are ever allowed into the circus grounds. Some say that anyone who can provide The Ringmaster with a particularly good candidate will earn a lifetime's pass in return...

(originally by

enthymeme)

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There was a smile behind the mask then, visible in the way his eyes crinkled, though he didn't say anything about the threat, he simply arched a brow, stepping forward.

He was -so far as he could tell- still out of reach even if Blake got a paw through the bars. But that was the point, really, if the creature was going to show no fear of him, he was going to show no fear in return until they reached some sort of agreement.

Everyone knows Bane's name, half-reverent, half-terrified each time it's uttered, as though saying it would bring the man himself down on them. John knows it because the Ringleader uses it to threaten him: If you don't behave, we'll have Bane come break you. If you don't cooperate, we'll have Bane destroy you.

And now Bane has come.

And he doesn't take John's threats for what they are.

John trembles in place, every instinct telling him to fight or flee. To run, run, get away from the threat. But his pride and rage holds just as strong a grip on him, and he snarls, baring teeth that are still human instead of beast-sharp.

Bane actually rather liked having that reputation, it made dealing with new beasts and new co-workers alike easier, and now seemed to be no exception to that.

He crouched then, bringing himself to eye-level with Blake, still silent for the time being, mostly just gauging the reaction he got. He'd found early on that the silence, or at least speechlessness and only quiet sounds, wore on them the most quickly, especially the ones who still had some memory of Before.

John lashes out through the bars, his fingertips sharp and clawed, despite knowing that Bane is still out of reach. It's enough to get most people to leave him alone, threatened by the idea that he's still unpredictably violent.

"Go away!" he howls. "Or just kill me!"

It isn't that he wants to die. It's just that his pride won't allow him to be paraded around like a show dog.

He made a half-thoughtful sound in his throat at that outburst, head tilting as if debating whether or not to answer.

He did, after a moment, a quiet: "No. You aren't going to die here, not today." Perhaps eventually, when he was no longer of use, but not yet, not before he'd been out in the center ring at least once.

"When, then?" he asks, and it frustrates him how pitifully quiet his voice is. "Why do you do this to me?"

Not Bane specifically, but the Circus. The Ringleader. Why catch him and change him and pervert him into this being, not man and not beast?

He draws back into his cage, claws dragging into the heavy wooden floors of his cage as he pants, eyes wild as he tries, again, to find some sort of escape route.

There was that thoughtful rumble again, a little like an engine idling or some large cat contemplating, "Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, perhaps never." He shrugged, the movement slow and measured, like a small hillside shifting, "Perhaps your fate is to stay here until you've gone old and grey."

For the moment, he stayed put, apparently intent on just letting Blake wear himself out before trying anything else.

The sound he makes then is one of dismay and despair, and John shakes for a moment.

"No," he then says, lifting his chin defiantly. "That won't happen. I'll get out. I will."

"I wouldn't test the Ringmaster's mercy that way, though I won't stop you if you're so intent on it." He replied, sounding thoughtful.

He knew that things could definitely be worse for Blake, the fact that he was still allowed speech was a boon, though he could understand how it may not seem that way.

"Will you let me out?" John asks, eyes bright and sharp, the setting sun reflecting off of them as he peers through the light at Bane. "I won't hurt you," he tries, making his voice as soft and nonthreatening as he can. "I just want to--go."

"It would be foolish of me to do so, considering that you've just recently threatened to kill me." There was some small amusement in the tone, even distorted as it was by the mask.

He rolled smoothly to his feet, however, stepping closer, "Where is it you intend to go if I do?"

Gotham. Gotham.

His home burns a beat in his blood, for all that it had been harsh and cruel to him growing up.

"Away," he says, voice raspy. "Away from here."

He just shook his head, "There is nowhere else but here. There is only the circus."

That low-rumble of a thoughtful sound then, "That's all there's ever been, all there's going to be."

"That's not true," he bursts out, rushing the bars in his agitation. He doesn't try to claw Bane, though, his fingers wrapping tight around the iron that keeps him caged. "I know it isn't!"

That previous rumble had turned into an actual growl, some kind of steel behind his tone as he replied: "No. There isn't. You'll only drive yourself crazy insisting that there is."

He'd drawn close at that point, but there was some kind of warning, almost a threat just in his stance and his proximity, "So let's try that again. Where would you go if I were to let you out?"

His breath causes his chest to heave as he glares up (up, up) at Bane, the man taller and broader and stronger in every conceivable way--even with John's beast-like attributes.

"Away."

He shook his head, finally taking a step back, "No, still the wrong answer."

That said he finally unfolded his arms, "I'll be back with your dinner later." He knew the others would leave Blake alone now, Bane had claimed him and that was that. Bane also knew that some time alone with his thoughts was either going to be the best or the worst thing for Blake at the moment, and he wasn't sure which it would be.

Bane just leaves.

Like that.

Nothing else.

What the fuck.

John can't figure out if he's relieved or disappointed, but he ends up pacing the cage a few more times before curing up in the corner to try to catch a nap. Whether or not Bane's coming back isn't his problem. He just doesn't want to deal with any of the other members of the Circus coming by to gawk at him.

The other Beasts are either more man or more animal than he is, after all; John's caught awkwardly in-between.

He came back a couple of hours later, with a plate of dinner the same as the performers got instead of the bucket of shredded meat that most of the beasts usually got.

Though he did have one of those on standby, just in case as he wasn't sure yet just how extensive the Ringmaster's alterations were when it came to Blake. He'd already made the rounds with the rest of his charges, so Blake had his attention for the rest of the evening.

"Dinner." He announced as he strode into the tent, "Hungry?"

John is still more man than beast, and the bucket of raw meat was unappealing. It was still all he had ever been given and, when he'd gotten hungry enough, he'd eaten a strip or two of it.

All that had happened was that he'd gotten really, really sick.

The Ringmaster didn't care, though, had seemed amused by it, and just reassured John that he'd get used to it. John tried not to eat after that.

He glares blearily at Bane, eyes catching on the hated bucket before he averts his gaze. "No," he lies, sullen.

"No?" He asked, both brows lifting, "Starving yourself won't do any good." He'd seen the Ringmaster resurrect people from the brink of death, and he suspected that the man could actually bring people back from the dead as well, should he so desire.

A rumbling from his stomach makes John flush, his body betraying itself. "It'll just make me sick," he admits reluctantly. "He," there's no need to specify who it is John's talking about, "says I'll get used to it. Fuck that!"

Especially because by "used to it" John suspects the Ringmaster means, "turn more fully into a Beast."

That was about what it meant, actually. Though Ban just made that thoughtful sound again, nodding once, "So you are still on solids."

He set the bucket down so that he could pick up the covered plate off of the top of it, "This one, then." There was an amused twitch of expression behind the mask, "I can't say of the quality's better, but at least it's cooked."

His eyes widen. No one's offered him food for people since his arrival here and now, Bane is? John has to swallow down the instinctive urge to grab it.

"What's the catch?"

"None." He replied with a little shake of his head, offering the plate over again, "You're under my care now. One of mine. That means it's down to me to keep you healthy."

That and he knew it likely wasn't going to be long before the Ringmaster altered Blake further, so there was no harm in giving him actual food until then. Rather like giving the family dog food from the table.

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