Krystle Harrison (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
omggirlonthenet) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2016-11-05 10:29 pm
omggirlonthenet) wrote in bakerstreet2016-11-05 10:29 pm
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....
HOW IT WORKS:
♦ Leave a comment with your character's name and fandom in the subject. You can either select an option and set the scene, or fill brief want/do not want for other commenters. Please note that this meme is open to both sexual and non-sexual content, and may contain potential triggers.
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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)
it's fine for me!
Nothing passes his sight in this ring, so long as they fly in the spotlight. And that locket has flown to neatly insert itself as the shining centerpiece of the eye of a long, coiling serpent, made of elegant long segments. Visitor items should not be swept into his puppets, and they are typically warned accordingly beforehand. Despite this, the story continues flawlessly, without interruption.
Much later, the snake is approached by a sun deity, who has apparently come to enact vengeance for his mother. An arrow made of metal and paper pierces the snake's eye, knocking the locket from its perch, and Kubo has carefully positioned himself below the scene. If Frisk is swift of eye, they will notice his faint shift of arm--he has snagged the precious thing from the air. To leave the thing on the floor where it could be tripped over would be a mistake.
The show eventually ends with a burst of gold and silver flowers across the massive stage, spotlights going dark. They return meekly, dimly, as the applause fades, so that visitors may see their way out while Kubo remains animate. It is only after most of the audience has left that he takes out the locket from the folds of his shiny armor and robes, looking at his reflection in the metal.
It is oddly interesting.
o7
They'd missed the entire latter half of the story with how intently focused they were on their taken item. It's important. But when everything's done, the mass of mostly-adults stands and moves in nearly a single wave, shunting them toward the exit despite their struggling.
But Frisk manages to duck to the side of the tent-place once they're out, stealing around the outside. There's other entrances for them to steal into, ones with less filtering out, and by the time there's a gap they'd ended up on the opposite side of the ring entirely.
They spot the storyteller examining it, and a panicked part of them wonders if he's planning on keeping it--their voice's maybe a little harsher than they usually keep it when they call out. "Hey!"
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His head turns, a swiftness that falls to a drifting stop--fast and elegant and dangerous, just as the rest of him is.
It is a child. Small and frail and human. A filth, but an audience, and for whatever they have to say he will listen. It does not matter if it is petty or negative. He's heard it all before; your figures look folded and unrealistic. I didn't understand the story. Meaningless toddles from the mindless. Some, surprisingly intellectual. Ah, wait. Kubo reminds himself that it is a general rule of thumb that no one here, especially the guests, are how they look. This child could very well be a demon, or an angel, a shapeshifter. It makes listening a little more bearable. (This is all thought out in about the span of a metaphor for speed.)
Kubi was never very tall, but he could hover to an extent. He drifts down to Frisk's level. "Yes?"
It does not cross his mind that they're here for the locket still dangling from his fingers. Not many come back for small, simple belongings.
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They've braced a foot on the edge of the ring, subconsciously expecting they'll nee to jump for it. "That--the locket. 'S mine. You--" wait, they probably...shouldn't be rude, it might've been an accident, and they hastily amend: "--your story took it."
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Sometimes he wonders about the Ringmaster's taste in guests. Surely the little one before him would not be able to afford a ticket by themself.
There is a moment of contemplation, flicking his fingers so that the heart itself rests in his palm. It shines beautifully, he must admit. Even if there is certainly wear. And dirt. Kubo holds his hand out so that it dangles carefully, open for Frisk to take. "Apologies." Sounds empty. "If it is yours, you may have it."
As it is, his voice falls flat when he's not narrating. He… also might be holding it a little high (he's still hovering albeit lower), whether or not it's intentional.
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Frisk's startled into silence for a few heartbeats. Sure, they'd missed some (most) of the tales told, but his voice was distinct. Not...this.
"It is. It's important," they say finally.
...And they're still too short to easily grab it back without jumping, but they've had plenty of practice doing that when they needed to dodge, and so they do. Straight upward, even with their size, snatching at it.
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"I see." With a statement like that engraved in it, it must be. He wonders who has the matching one.
Perhaps he could have made friends with the other performers, but there were few he considered of high enough statues to interact with, by rank (Ringmaster and guests above all) and by species. That he could recognize; anyway. Kubo found it below his dignity to speak anything besides dismissals, calls, and commands to the slaves. Along this, circus off-times (of which there were few) were often spent resting alone or practicing. Cleaning and tending were for the menials.
No, he did not have time for friends. Though the thought is nice.
The locket is snatched and he lets it be. It belongs to him. Far be it from him to steal.
"You must have somewhere to get back to," he hums. "Go. I will waste no mire of your time." He turns around, hefting his instrument again--presumably to clean up the flower debris. There is plenty of time until the next show, but he would rather this place be clean by then.
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...Why were they so suspicious? Now that it's in their hand, they feel a little dumb about it. Just because he's not a monster doesn't mean he's definitely a jerk.
They make a dismissive sound. they do, but--they don't think they'll be missed yet. They've got time, plenty of it. "Missed some of your story, though." They sound apologetic. "...D'you do the same ones every time?"
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"No."
Three slow notes cross the air, and the flowers lift gently. They wobble in the air. The magic holding them lazy, but solid, and will not stray from their path.
"Nearly every show is different. It would not suit me to hold on to the same story every day--there is no excitement in that. I could never know what it is to be a circus slave, holding the same routine every day."
He lifts a hand; the flowers all unfold. He speaks as if this is everyday talk, that there is nothing wrong with an heirarchy including slaves and beasts--though it seems to be in his favor.
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Their thoughts screech to a halt, eyes snapping from the flowers back to him.
"'Circus slave'?" they parrot.
Frisk thinks, naturally, of the people wearing collars--they hadn't got to explore the area as much as they'd wanted before the show started, but they'd dropped by the concession stands to grab a bit of food and drink. They'd thought the woman who served them just had a doglike (or Doggolike) sense of fashion.
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That's a curious note--probably the most emotion he's displayed so far in this conversation. As far as he's concerned this heirarchy has always existed. Ut is functional and it works; there is no changing it.
Kubo turns to face his guest, still picking out notes. Behind him, the unfolded papers assort themselves neatly.
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"Just, people do it. Get hired. Employees...servants, I guess. Or normal people when we're not busy. My mom's a Queen," they say, for example, "but she does stuff like do dishes an' bake."
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He always did resent the Ringmaster for stealing these from him. He was someone but he can't ever remember. There were dark gaps where he knew there shouldn't be and it was going to drive him insane if he didn't stop thinking about it (he tried to find answers, once. it didn't end well), so he did. He stopped. The Ringmaster said it was for his own good, but Kubo wasn't an idiot. He knew there was something hidden. No slaves. Is this it? The hint of freedom, an heirarchy without an abused people?
This kid might bring the effort to remember back. This conversation was growing dangerous.
He realizes he should stop. He doesn't. "A Queen who operates on the level of menial workers. And you are royalty, then." The child before him is directly descended from a monarch? They certainly do not look the part, in their simple garb.
… a flicker: a child, an unwilling prince who lived in a cave. He snatches the memory.
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'Menial'. That's a word they're not sure they know, or like even so.
"She likes baking. Makes the best pie in the world. I'm--kind of. 'Dopted. Don't really have a...title." They glance around the ring. They're going to be here a while, they think, as there's problems to solve. "I'm learning to be an ambassador instead."
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Kubo wants to pry. He wants to know if perhaps they were ever someone he'd been involved with, indirectly or not--everything about them screams foreign but he'll try anyway.
"An ambassador to what kingdom, if I may ask?"
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It's like flipping a switch--Frisk draws themselves up, finally grinning outright. "The Kingdom of Monsters," they answer with relish.
"...still in training, though. Mom--Toriel--the Queen's doing a lot of the stuff with me for now, since I'm--" their voice pitched up to quote "--'somewhat young for all the responsibility'. But I'm learning quick."
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Neither does this bring him any new flashes, though. Only words he remembers, that he's torn himself up over trying to figure out who said them.
"No, they are monsters. … Promise me, Kubo.""There's something in the water. … uh, what kind of something?"
Regardless, it's an incredibly expansive domain, maybe wider than galactic empires, for aliens should have their own monsters too. It probably shows on… uh, the lower half of his face that isn't obscured by hair. How they ever got to be adopted into a family like that…
"Of all monsters?" He finds it hard to believe.
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"I wanted to bring them with me, Queen or King, but they...couldn't use the other ticket."
Probably because it was addressed to someone else, who couldn't claim theirs. Frisk thinks they're near enough to use it, though.
...They wonder if a flower can use a ticket.
"'M sure they'd like to come here someday, anyway." Even if it's to bring the boss of the place a piece of their mind--or at least Toriel. "Pretty sure they'd love your stories, too."
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But… "You are a human for the kingdom of Monsters. How did you fall into the royal family?" A human ambassador from monsters to other humans. It should be the other way around, really.
And it would probably make a good story.
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"...'S a long story." The circus tent is completely empty, they notice abruptly, except for the pair of them. Even the most ambling of guests left. It's almost eerie.
(They should really look for a SAVE point soon.)
"The really short version's, um--they were all trapped underground a long, long time ago by stupid, scared humans. And I fell underground a long time after that. I met the Queen first and she liked me, I made friends with even the scariest even though a lot wanted me dead, and I helped break the barrier that kept them down there. Asgore was grateful--he's the king. Toriel too, but think she just likes being a mom even more."
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But it makes sense. The beings below the heavens were always so emotional. So weak. Of course a queen with maternal tendencies would take in the savior that let them all free.
He's about to speak, but
wait
"… share their humiliation."a flash of blue and a flash of teeth and so much pain he couldn't breathe--he was angry, why?
Kubo hesitates.
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Concern flits across their face as the silence goes on.
"...you okay? You...can ask more stuff. 'F you want." They don't want to go too far on their own. There are plenty of secrets they need to keep close to their chest, and it's better to let someone else lay the pathway for what they want to know and Frisk can tell. Less having to double back later that way.
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"It is nothing," he says, but this words are almost snapping. Almost. It's only a lilt.
He wants answers, and for answers he needs to ask. But Kubo has no idea where to start. And the names Toriel and Asgore sound completely unfamiliar to him--to think this someone would do much good to piece together his old life was foolish of him. Naïve, even. He couldn't expect much more from a human.
And if the Ringmaster finds him atempting to salvage his memories… well.
"You must have somewhere to be, or at least a show more exciting than my company. I will not hold you."
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"Not curious?" Their lips twitch. "Scared of monsters?" They're not too serious, after all the other manner of creatures they'd seen in passing before this.
Anyway. "Not holding me. I have this again." They wave the locket before making a sharp half-turn, staring at all the exits. "But I'll go if you really want." To go look for the boss of this place, of course. And a SAVE. They feel like they're going to be here for a while, investigating.
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Kubo studies Frisk. He sort of resents that he stooped to a human for answers, but he sees that they aren't quite settled, either. They lack the ambling easiness of a typical circus-goer, as even the vicious beasts and their tamers were fantastical enough to evoke some degree of wonder.
He's done asking from them, but won't push them away if they choose to remain. He is not beyond being polite quite yet.
"That is your choice." His answer is terse.
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