#circus!open

[he’s managed one so far, and that took him long enough as it is] 

[breath in] Just get it over with. Just get it over with.

[....oW o W OW OW VARIOUS GERMAN SWEARS] 

[what’s this? a newly purchased tiger cub, locked in a small cage] [he’s clawing at the bars and making tiny growls, trying to get someone’s attention]

Not only was it may, but it was the first day of May. For many people that either meant May Day or a more ancient holiday Beltane. Julchen had been in high spirits that day. She’d gotten up early enough to watch the sunrise and make flower crowns with the fresh flowers. Magic was buzzing in the air as the veils between worlds became thin. Not only was this witch celebrating, but the fae folk were also emerging from their winter respites, stretching their wings and practicing their magic. 

Alistair, wishing that the circus had some sort of alchemist among its ranks, then used an old spell his mother had taught him to make the old iron bedframe half and broken bits of pipe he'd found much more flimsy. With the metal weaker he was able to more easily break the items into bits.

Gillian was not an active person during the day. Unless they had a show during the day, and even rarely then, he was usually only seen as early as the late afternoon, unless you came into his trailer. Recently, every evening, he could be seen coming out and placing pieces of bread and seeds along boxes and rails near his trailer. Then he would sit and wait on the steps in front of his door, as one or two crows would come down and peck at the food left behind. Only crows would ever come near him, he found, as most other animals tried to avoid him. 

The only problem now was practicing. Reverting to his demon form during a performance was fine, as it was part of the act. But it was when Roderich needed to practice that he loathed this curse of his. The black eyes, the leathery wings and tough horns, the absolutely frustrating inability to speak; all of it grated on his nerves. It was bad enough as is, but even worse knowing that however long he practiced, he’d be stuck like this for double the amount of time. 

But still, Roderich was a musician. And so, he practiced, the soft sound of a violin echoing out from within the main tent. With the piano still needing repairs, he was currently busying himself with going over his old violin piece so he might perform it instead of his new one meant for piano. Around him swirled dark shadows, illustrating a tale of lost love and betrayal, the entire atmosphere only punctuated by his demonic appearance.