#donttouchrummy

The air around him is burning. Flames flick around him and the medallions he slings around stay just far enough away from his hair to not let it catch on fire. The dance he does is different from the last one, a new routine every time though some aspects are recycled. He twists and turns, dodging the fire as he brings it close and fighting a smile as he hears the crowd gasp at the fire surrounding him.

He’s been a fire dancer for so long most burns don’t bug him any more. He does make sure to at least once during the show to turn his back to the audience so they can see the long scar on his back that happened during an accident when he had been younger.

He covers it by bending backwards so his head almost touches the ground while still swinging the medallions about him. The crowd likes that one. He used to be embarrassed about the scar but after it proved to be a test of courage for those who enjoy his act he decided to show it off a little more.

The end comes soon enough, him swinging his arm to wrap the medallion wires around his arm and catching the bulbous end in his hand in a move that took a while to expert. He stands in a T formation on stage and bows to the watchers, them cheering him on.

He takes the wet towel given to him and places it over his head. Lotion appears from no where and he lathers his skin up. He’s most thankful for the chapstick they hand to him. His skin gets dry quickly. It’s a necessity for his routine.

He walks around the venue in his outfit to talk to the guests, taking compliments as well as asking about his show and anything he can do to improve, their favorite part so he can get the best show for someones experience.

He returns to the stage half an hour later, this time with the batons with the end lit up like a pyromaniacs q-tip. He takes a quick bow before the music starts and everything goes to shit.

He starts as a standard lightly twirling the batons around just for a little fun show before preparing to get into the heavier more dangerous tosses and closer to the body tricks. Except he never gets there because some idiot decides to get on stage and get too close to the fire before Yao notices him.

Their shirt catches fire and so does their hair. Yao drops his batons to the water pit down stage just in case and pushes the stranger into the water tub right after. The crowd is deadly silent now as the potential harm to someone came from the stage. Yao releases a held breath and hops down from the stage as the emergency medical team takes action.

Yao takes his batons from the water and follows the medics out of view. The manager in charge of the show makes an apology to the crowd as the second showing will be delayed because of the interruption. Yao finds his back up batons as the medics manage to get the strangers shirt off their body as the seams have melted to their skin.

“Hah this’ll be a story,” They mumbles with a dopey smile. Yao glares at them and brushes past to go on stage.

“You’re so pretty!” They shout but Yao ignores them to complete his act. He does so this time without a hitch. Tossing the flaming batons up, catching them, then breathing fuel out into the air to cause the fire to grow in mass. The crowd cheers and he steps off stage to clean his moth out and get some proper water in him.

“Holy shit I’m in love with you,” The stranger is still with the medical team when he’s done performing. He gives them a gross look but there are stars in their eyes. They hiss when the medical team removes more pieces of shirt that they cut off to make sure nothing else would melt into their skin.

Yao takes his thin robe to wrap over his body and sit by the medical team while they patch up the stranger. Their hair has curls at the end from where the flames got to it. Yao sighs.

“That was very dangerous what you did,” He chides. They laugh and nod in a daze, staring at Yao like he’s magic.

“You could have been seriously hurt,” He continues his lecture. His words go over deaf ears as the stranger is really not listening, choosing to just stare at Yao in a daydream. Yao sighs.

“I’m Zao,” They say. Yao glares at them and stands to go mingle with the audience and also apologize for the intrusion. Once he’s done with the specified time he’s supposed to try and talk to people, he collects his things to head home. The night is alive now and the rebellious teenage crowd is coming.

“Hey no wait!” Yao glances over his shoulder, see Zao chasing after him, and walks away faster. He’s caught up to and a groan escapes him as he has to deal with this person.

“I’m sorry about busting in on your show.”

“You should be.” Yao turns on his heel to keep walking. Zao walks beside him not caring for the fact Yao doesn’t want to talk to him.

“I really do love you, I’ve been to all your shows, and finally got high enough to have the courage to talk to you,” He goes off and Yao gives him a glare worthy of the fire he wields. Zao doesn’t deter, only looking more smitten at the look. Instead of asking for clarification, Yao shakes his head and leaves.

“I’ll see you next week!” Zao calls to him. He doesn’t get a response back. Yao can’t be bothered to deal with some moron with drugs. It doesn’t stop him from looking into the crowd the day of his next performance for Zao, finding him sitting in the back with a medic just to make sure he doesn’t get any more bright ideas.

“Step right up and test your strength, see you if can ring the bell for a prize!” He shouts out. A large pole in the ground with little notches is next to him, large stuffed animals hanging down from strings that are only given out to those who can ring the bell. There is no second place. Either you win or you don’t.

He puts on a semi smirky smile as people look his direction, whispering to each other if they should try or not. Some men nudge each other trying to goad another into trying. Some other girls with bright red lipstick are sizing up the size of the machine. Ludwig nods his head politely to a little girl that comes up to him with a five dollar bill.

“Are you ready?” He asks softly. The little girl twists up her nose with a look of determination in her eyes and nods quickly. Her parents to the side smile proudly. Ludwig helps her hold the hammer, positioning it in her hands just a little. When she goes to swing the hammer he secretly helps her lift it and push it down to give the swing more power.

“Sorry sweetheart,” He says with a shrug as her hit only goes as high as three feet. Her parents call her back and she goes happily, especially as Ludwig sneaks her one of the smaller stuffed animal prizes for her hard work. He only does so for the children. One of the other vendors allows him to sneak some of their prizes for such purposes. He could get in trouble but hey, he’s making money and that’s all the owners really care about.

He runs a hand through his hair as he watches the small family teeter off. With another shout out for his game, his hands rest on the hammer. He watches a few people as they look his way and other skitter past without a second look. Neither really matter to him.

“Oh fuck yes,” He hears and turns just in time to see a ten dollar bill being waved in his face by a very over enthusiastic person. The black beanie on their head is pushed back on and the blonde curls peek out from the fabric. Ludwig takes their ten and hands over the hammer.

“I’m gunna fucking own this rigged as shit game,” They say and twist the hammer between their hands. The lift it over their shoulder and position themselves a few times to find optimal swing conditions. Ludwig just watches with his arms crossed in a lazy way.

He has to admit their form is not the worst he’s ever seen for someone trying to hit the bell. An arching swing and a lowering of their body to get the most force they possibly can. They get to 12 feet.

“Fuck!”  They hiss as if trying to be quiet but still end up slightly shouting anyway. Ludwig might have told them to watch their language but he really doesn’t care.

“So tell me strongman, how high can you get?” Instead of taking his second swing right away, the customer sends a wicked smirk Ludwig’s way. Ludwig has enough sense to know that’s a semi-flirt. He fidgets with his fingers at the sudden attention.

“High enough to make it look easy,” He says smartly. He’s not sure if it’s a good thing to get this customer to laugh their head off. They flip their leather jacket collar with spunk and lift the hammer back over their shoulder to swing again. They get 13 feet that time.

“Better luck next ti-” Ludwig doesn’t finish his sentence as the customer waves another ten in his face. He takes it and add it to the money pile. They get in position but just before they make the lift to hit the target, they stop and give Ludwig a mischievous smile.

“Say beefcake,” He winks at the nickname and Ludwig has to grind his teeth to try and will the embarrassment off his face. The customer drops his position to stand a little more sassily.

“Hows about a bet?” It’s an offer, and one Ludwig is technically not allowed to take. Bets are a violation of his code of conduct and there are some rules he still follows.

“If I get a higher hit than you, you allow me to take you out for dinner,” They say and their tongue runs over their teeth like an animal who knows they are getting the biggest piece of meat. All of Ludwig’s logical rebuttals to a bet are lost in his mouth and his jaw just drops.

“What?” Is all he ends up asking. The customer laughs, placing a casual hand on his hip.

“I think you’re cute, and have no sense of control,” They explain like it’s no big deal. Ludwig sighs and rubs the back of his head. He’s not reckless enough to accept the bet, but he’s also not stupid enough to see that the customer is fairly attractive and charming in their own wild way.

“That’s ridiculous,” He says. The customer laughs again and holds out his hand for Ludwig to shake as if any of this could be proper.

“Name’s Lutz,” He introduces with a wink. Ludwig grimaces at him but still shakes his hand.

“Ludwig,” He says and takes the hammer from Lutz, getting into position and shifting his foot on the tarp. With a deep breath he swings the hammer up and over, hitting right at 13 feet, the little bar at that level lighting up to signal it’s so.

Lutz smirks and takes the hammer, also taking position just a little different from Ludwig’s. He makes a huff of a noise and swings. 12 feet.

“Better luck next time,” Ludwig says and Lutz pouts at him. Ludwig has to hide his face to hide the slightly playful smirk on his face at the pout Lutz gives him. There’s another ten waved in his face and Ludwig accepts the trial again. This time he gets 14 feet and Lutz’s jaw drops.

“Son of a bitch,” He says but there’s a day dream look on his face and he looks at Ludwig like he’s made of magic. Ludwig shifts under the gaze not sure how to deal with it. Lutz whistles at him and then takes position. It takes 5 minutes for Lutz to actually swing the hammer.

There’s a loud ringing noise and a few flashing lights to show off that the top bell has been hit hard enough to warrant a prize. Ludwig runs a hand through his hair, the corner of his mouth twitches up as Lutz smiles at him like the Cheshire cat resting on the hammer.

“So will my prize be your number or a time and place?” It’s a coo and one that makes Ludwig hide his face in his hand. He shakes his head to whatever just happened and then manages to smile up at Lutz. The other beams at the expression.

It’s a little awkward as Ludwig puts in his number in the phone of this stranger, not exactly sure why he’s going through with this. They are charming, and he will admit to being a little weak to someone with the gall to actually make a bet like that with him.

Though most people have their fair share of ideas on witch craft, Francis rather enjoys the lighter aspects and charms of the craft. He practices cleansings and healings for himself and spends his off days researching new ways to help better himself. The carnival doesn’t care as long as he makes a profit for them. For him though, it’s a way to practice as well as help couples get in touch with each other.

Telling fortunes can be hard, especially if his customer isn’t open to the idea, but of course pathways are clouded by their own misgivings. Not everything he says can be accurate, but inklings from the globe a couple chooses or the cards that display themselves when shuffled, it all links back together and he will damned if he doesn’t give any one the proper reading they deserve.

He finds a few candles with rejuvenating and cleansing properties and lights them up away from the tent walls to make sure it doesn’t catch on fire. He takes a seat in the cushioned chair for himself and breathes with the scents, cleaning himself of the possible wayward turn magic can push.

He opens his eyes when he feels someone looking at him, smiling at the rugged stranger in his doorway. They don’t look to be the kind of person that would be drawn to his tent, but that doesn’t mean he hadn’t. He’s alone even, and Francis is sure the sign outside the tent says something about couples fortune readings.

“Hello,” He says softly. The stranger glares at him and begins to twitch. Francis stands and goes to them slowly to not freak them out with his advancement.

“Can I help you?” He asks with a smile, fiddling with the dice in his pocket. The stranger groans and rubs the back of their neck.

“I smelled your dumb candles,” They say with a huff, not looking at Francis kindly. There’s the smell of smoke on him from a cigarette. Francis glances back his candles with their flames burning bright. The smell of them is no where strong enough to draw someone so strongly.

He pulls the dice from his pocket after a sufficient amount of turning it, the number 19 right on top. He swallows hard, his mental question being answered by the number. Does this person need my help? Such a high number has his throat parched.

“Please, come in,” He steps aside and waves the stranger in. They grimace at the enclosed space by let themselves be ushered if not looking smaller the way they cross their arms.

“I don’t want any of your stupid readings,” They spit at Francis but he just laughs, guiding them to the wall of globes.

“Indulge me,” He says with a smile. The stranger sighs and comes closer to look at the glass spheres. Francis makes sure not look knowing his looks can sometimes make people change their choice.

“Here,” They say to him. Francis takes the ball and gestures to the seat across from his normal one.

“What’s your name?” The globe is placed in the holder.

“Louis.” Francis mouths the name to himself as he stares at the globe in front of him. It’s plain and opaque white, small streaks of dark blue show themselves in the light. Francis hums.

“What?” Louis asks, trying to look bored but he’s leaning forward now. Francis smiles at him. He reaches out and Louis reluctantly holds out his hand for Francis to take and place on the other side of the globe.

“Why would a sad person like you decide to come to a tent like this?” Francs’s question comes out cooly and plain. Louis grimaces.

“I told you why, I smelled..” His words trail off and he shakes his head. Francis stares him down, making them lock eyes. very carefully he moves his hand closer and Louis does the same till they are both holding the side of the small globe. It’s warm to the touch where it had once been cold.

Snapping out of the daze Francis stands sharply, starling Louis back far into his seat from where they had both been leaning in. Francis finds his simple tarot cards, not his favorite for telling, bu good enough. He hands them to Louis to shuffle. He does wordlessly.

“Think about what you want to know,” Francis explains. Just three questions are asked and Louis is told to write them down in order on a spare bit or tea soaked paper that has been dried out.

“First question,” Francis points at a spot on the table and Louis cuts the deck like he’s been told and picks up the top card from the middle of the deck. Francis swallows thickly at The Fool staring right at the ceiling.

“Second,” He says and points next to the first card. Louis is more hesitant this time to cut one of the already halved decks again. He does though, taking the top card and placing it down cautiously to reveal The Lovers. Francis almost has to laugh.

“And third.” Louis cuts the other deck and takes that card, dropping it o the table and leaning back in his seat as if exhausted. Francis stares dumbly at the last card and then up at Louis.

“What is this all supposed to mean?” His voice is unkind and curt, angered by his reading. Francis just smiles at him.

“You’re the only one who knows, they are the answers to your questions,” He explains. Louis scoffs and stands abruptly to leave. Francis watches him go with a sad smile, his heart pounding when Louis pauses just at the entrance of the tent.

He turns to stare at Francis. For a moment the entire carnival goes silent. Francis can only see him and the smell of smoke that lingers on his clothes. Louis opens his mouth to speak but then snaps his mouth shut as if he thought better of it. He leaves quickly afterwords and Francis slumps. The small session has exhausted him.

It’s hard to get the energy back up in his tent but it happens eventually as more happy couple come in ‘for the fun of it’. It’s late in the day, the carnival still having an hour left to run, but his hours are closed. He places his globes in wraps to keep clean during the night and tucks his cards in his pocket next to his dice.

The sound of the tent being sipped up sounds weirder than normal this night. With a sigh he turns to walk to his car to head home. He passes Louis on his way, his eyes straying to them for longer than he anticipated. They catch him looking easily as if they knew he would be staring. Who ever Louis is with, that group doesn’t matter as he gets to his feet and stalls Francis longer.

Louis holds out a small bit of tea soaked parchment and Francis smiles down at it. He holds it in his hand as he walks farther out of the park with Louis beside him. The questions are the paper make sense to the answers given.

Someone like Louis, who doesn’t seem to think highly of himself, would consider himself the fool in any regard. Not saying what he’s thinking and hiding what he feels. The second is one Francis has seen before. Maybe people are afraid to be in love and it seems Louis is no exception. The third question makes him stop in his steps.

“Did you fuck with the cards or what?” Louis snaps at him and Francis shakes his head quickly. The Magician had answered Louis’s third question of who he was meant to be with, but it gives more questions than answers. Curiosity sets in and Francis takes out his card. He shuffles them hazardously in his hands then holds the deck to his lips to whisper.

“Who am I?” He asks. A question he’s asked more than once. One he’s always gotten the same answer to. He cuts the deck to what he believes it half and pulls out the middle card. The Magician stares at him. So he takes a deep breath and shuffles again with more vigor.

“Who I am supposed to be with?” He asks loud enough for Louis to properly hear his question. When Francis pulls out The Fool, Louis pales considerably.

“What kind of witchy bullshit is this?” He asks in a seething tone and a glare to match. Francis doesn’t have words.

“Keep your mumbo jumbo away form me,” Louis tells him. He stalks off and back to the group he sat with, leaving Francis to hold his cards to his chest and the spare bit of parchment that are the same questions he’s always asked himself.

He manages to flag down the security cart heading towards the FerrisWheel to hitch a ride and get there quicker. The guards are grumbling to themselves. This isn’t the first time someone has tried to do this, but it’s annoying and they would think people would learn not to do it sooner or later. Kiku just shakes his head with a sad smile.

He hops off the cart with his bag slung over his shoulder. He follows the guards he rode with to the other security members standing at the base of the ride. The workers have momentarily shut down the ride, though Kiku can hear the whispers of them wondering if they move the ride will the climber be moved to the ground, or just fall.

“Sir, please climb safely down the ride,” A security member shouts into a megaphone. The climber, who even Kiku can admire the tenacity of them climbing as high as they did, just waves down to them. Cockily they blow the guards a kiss.

“Sir you are endangering yourself and others,” The guards teeth are clenched shut in annoyance. The climber stands on the rafters, swinging a leg down and flipping expertly to catch himself as he falls. Kiku gasps hard as he does, not wanting to see a death as much as the climber sure is tempting such a thought.

They get about half way down before slipping. Again Kiku gasps, covering his mouth with his hand. The climber manages to pull them up on a rafter, clinging to the banisters with a look of panic on their face as if they didn’t expect to slip either.

“So uh, who’s catching me?” They call down. A few security members smack their faces and Kiku has to hide his giggle to not make them any more irked. They find the bounce mat and find a spot for the man to jump safely directing them to a lower banister for safety.

They begin their climb down to that banister but slip again, this time without being able to catch themselves. They fall from a higher banister than the security had deemed safe and definitely not falling the way they should have. Kiku rushes forward dropping to his knees on the mat and rolling the man over to a safer position.

“Fuuuuuuuccckkk,” The groan, hissing hard as Kiku wraps their shoulder, the one they landed on with tape. As far as he can palpate the bone doesn’t feel outright broken, the possibility of a fracture is still there as well as dislocation or even tendon tears.

There’s some jostling as they lift the man up and bring him to the cart to be driven to the medical tent, Kiku keeps his attention on the man, making sure his arm is as stable as possible on the rocky ride over. it’s difficult with the terrain and the man wanting nothign more than to just put his head on Kiku’s shoulder to hide his pain.

Once on the table provided in the medical tent most of the security disperses save for a few that will escort the man out of the carnival ground, probably with a lifetime ban on the place. Kiku holds their arm gingerly, pressing softly to parts of their arm to find points of tenderness.

They hiss mostly when he gets to the top of their shoulder, the main point of impact. He tapes the part down to reduce the movement allowed.

“Shit doc that hurts,” The man says when Kiku presses to make sure it sticks. Kiku sighs carefully.

“It has to be tight in order to make sure it doesn’t get worse,” He explains. The man peeks at him from under their good arm which they have draped across their face. Kiku plays into their staring contest for a second, unsure as to why they are staring, then gently massages the lower half of the arm as well as closer to the neck to feel for any other deformities. The man leans into his touch.

“Tell me doc, am I going to die?” The man asks dramatically. Kiku pauses to blink at them, then continues, ignoring them completely.

“Cause I know I’d be going to hell, but you sure are an angel,” There’s a smirk on their face. Kiku has to place much more focus than he wishes into not reacting outright to their flirting. It’s not proper to do so in this situation.

“Aw come on that was a good one!” They complain and push to sit up. They get upright and wobble noticeably. Kiku gently sets them back down as they grip at their head.

“You might feel a bit dizzy from the pain, please rest,” He says, almost begging. After what they have pulled it wouldn’t be a surprise if they disregarded his advice in full. Instead they wave their good hand carelessly but do as told. Kiku finds some ice and a cold rag to cool them properly.

“You’re so sweet?” They say as more of a question, as if they can’t believe it. Kiku hides his smile. He finds the paper work necessary and sets a chair next to the man to fill out the questions.

It starts basic with name and age and birth date, but even still the man has trouble coming up with answers. The more Kiku asks, the more uneasiness unfurls in his stomach. When he asks a question about where the man was born, their answer has nothing to do with what he asked.

“Sir are you alright?” Kiku places a gentle hand on their good arm. They remove it to face him and tilt their head to the side.

“I’m gunna throw up,” They tell him and Kiku finds a bucket. He makes quick work of calling for someone to drive this man to the hospital, whatever tools he has here are not enough to take care of him and his fading functional consciousness.

“Whoa hold up, angel you can’t leave,” They slur as Kiku helps them to the emergency car.

“You’re, you taking care of me?” They ask and Kiku manages to get them in the car. They grip tight to his sleeve like a lifeline to the point where Kiku almost gives up and goes with them.

A pit of regret sinks in his chest at seeing them drive off. He’s not sure where it’s coming from but the teasing from Mei when he gets back to the tent is not needed. He stares dumbly at the paperwork of the man. He planned to file it and got caught in the memory of them.

He’s one of the longest running employees of the carnival. In his mind, practically trained every single person that works a ride or booth, either by himself or indirectly by having trained another person. He takes credit but only to himself. Running Whiplash is probably his favorite job to do. So many people want to ride and it’s like a game trying to find people who come back for a second turn.

“I’ve ridden much worse, so fuck off with your bad attitude.” Alfred picks up on the insult, biting his tongue to keep from telling the stranger to bite their own. True this ride or the park in genera doesn’t host many kids, it’s still rude. He glances into the line as a rambunctious looking man shoos away their lumbering friend to go do something else. They catch Alfred staring and wink.

“Yo Alfie we good?” Kyle calls his name and Alfred jumps, pressing the button and calling out a seat that isn’t registered as good to go. It takes a minute but the green light comes on and the ride is flung into the air just like before.

About 10 turns later Kaelin shows up to take his spot, making soft snide comments under his breath at Kyle as he makes faces back. Alfred steps back and laughs at the two arguing when the vulgar stranger sweeps past him and onto the ride. He’s got a dangerous smile on his face and Alfred pauses to watch them for a moment. Again they catch him looking and wink. This time Alfred blows up at his bangs snottily with an unamused expression on his face.

The stranger’s laugh morphs into a scream as the ride takes off. Alfred snorts at them, staying back while the ride is going because he’s not dumb enough to risk such a thing even though he knows the ride’s pattern better than any other.

Alfred walks to the exit as Kyle releases the passengers from their binds. Alfred glances behind him in time to see the winking stranger stumble in a way that Alfred can recognize as unstable. He side steps quickly and helps the stranger down the exit stairs and to the trash can positioned a little ways away from the ride for just such purposes.

“Shit,” The stranger says after throwing up. They put a hand to their head and Alfred helps then stand, letting go only to grab them again when they look like they might drop. He walks them over to a nearby bench and sits beside them. The stranger places a hand on his hat.

“Don’t tell Matt..” They say with a woozy tilt of their head. Alfred snorts and agrees though he wouldn’t know who Matt is to not tell him what happened.

“Here,” He hands over his water bottle only just opened as he was giving over his control position. Greedily the stranger drinks it, rubbing their throat after chugging half the bottle. The groan and thunk their head back. Alfred shakes his head at them, smiling when they peek an eye open at him.

“Thank the vague muscular man in the sky that he sent me an angel,”They snicker to themselves and rink the rest of the water bottle. Alfred sputters out a short laugh.

“You’re an idiot,” He says. The stranger laughs loudly and begins to sit up, only to cough and lean over. Alfred catches them on a helpful instinct but the stranger takes advantage to rest their head on his shoulder.

“Hey!” Alfred objects.

“Just let me lean here for a while gorgeous,” They say to him without any snark. Alfred twists up his nose and doesn’t push them too much, only finagles them to a more comfy spot for himself. The compliment regrettably makes him smile.

“Aw you’re going to let me?” They tease and Alfred does rethink his life choices.

“Sure dude, just stop flirting with me,” He says, smiling down at the stranger awkwardly. They smile back and snuggle into him.

“No.” Alfred snorts at that. He’t not exactly opposed to the stranger. They could be a worse person and they do seem to really need support right now. And they clearly can’t go to this ‘Matt’ so Alfred decides it’s okay to step in. Now that they’ve stopped throwing up they’re actually pretty decent.

Alfred wiggles out from their cuddling when they try to wrap his arm in a death grip. The stranger laughs, standing much slower but a lot more stable. They rip the label off the plastic bottle and pluck the pen from Alfred’s pocket. Alfred is too caught up in the seductive smirk they give him to do more than watch.

He fumbles with his hands when the stranger pushes the label into his chest. They make a kissy face at him and tuck the pen behind their ear. The corner of Alfred’s mouth twitches up as they walk away, raising a hand carelessly behind them in a goodbye wave. He traces the number and name with his finger then snaps his head up.

“Do any of you wanna help me get Gilbear to show off his new tricks?” Just like he predicted the crowd screams out, raising their hands and bodies in the air to try and get noticed. Gilbert chuckles with his head thrown back. It takes a minute of scanning the crowd to find someone.

The thing about Gilbear, since he’s raised the animal from a cub, is when meeting new people, the bear doesn’t do well with loud. It takes some time for the animal to get used to new things that are loud, so he as the trusted owner, caretaker, and friend, needs to find someone who can be calm enough. 

“What’s your name cutie?” He coos to the person he picked. Without really thinking about it, he jumped the wall to them, grabbing their hand with his smirk going strong, and dragging them down to the stage and over the wall into the bear arena. They sat politely with their hands in the air, waving them about only slightly with a smile on their face that Gilbert couldn’t say no to. Sometimes he really should think out his plans.

Instead of answering him with words the person he picked moves their hands in a specific way. It takes him a moment of dumbfounded staring at them fretting and waving their hands back and forth as they back away for him to snap out of it. He grabs them by the arm to keep them by him.

“Lets give a round of applause to Klaus here!” He shouts. He winks down at the cutie who stares back awestruck. Gilbert places them in a position right between the fish bucket and bear.

“Now as any good pet owners knows, sometimes words aren’t enough to convey meaning,” He explains. Klaus looks at him a little strangely but there is a certain amount of gratitude in his expression at being able to stay in the center despite not using words.

“So we’re going to go on a practice run on how well you,” Gilbert points to his chosen person dramatically. “Can do the right motions to get Gilbear here to do the right thing.” He tells them. They nod in understanding and Gilbert does a few motions away from the bear so it doesn’t end up doing them out of place. Klaus picks up the signals easily and copies perfectly, giving Gilbert a deadpan expression when he tries to make him shake his butt to the crowd.

“So here’s what you do,” He tells Klaus, pushing him forward enough to get the bear’s attention. He smirks when he feels Klaus tense under his hands.

“Relax,” He whispers so the mic doesn’t pick him up.

“You’re going to put your hands out in front of you,” He announces for everyone to hear properly.

“Then raise your hands and spin in a circle to get Gilbear to dance.” He continues. Klaus nods his head to show he understands the instructions he is to give.

“Then drop your hands to the ground and spin in a circle again to get him to roll over,” Gilbert releases Klaus from his grip and makes a motion for him to do as he’s been directed. Gilbert hops up to a banister and places a finger to his lips to get the crowd to be quiet, looking excitedly on with everyone else as Klaus does the hand motions just right.

There’s a smile on Klaus’s face as the bear understand him, standing up when Klaus raises his hands in the air, and spinning in a circle just as Klaus does. There’s a puff of dirt that comes up when Klaus puts his hands low. Even more so when the bear rolls in the dirt happily. The crowd cheers after Gilbert starts hollering happily. He waves his hands properly to get Gilbear to come to him and lets him eat through the bucket of fish for doing such a good job. He helps Klaus get back into the crowd and then ends his show properly with bowing.

He makes good and sure Gilbear is in his pen with all the food and toys and blankets he may need for the rest of the night before heading out of his designated area with his falcon on his shoulder. Gilbird squawks in his ear for being left out but Gilbert only laughs at the animal, ruffling the feathers on it’s chest to annoy it even more so.

He allows a few children who promise to be super careful to pet Gilbird. The bird is used to being pet having lived with Gilbert for so long that it just stands tall and proud with the tiny hands on him. He continues to walk around the carnival when he spots a familiar person. With a quick word to Gilbird, the falcon takes off and lands just right on Klaus’s head.

“Oh I’m SO sorry!” Gilbert fakes his apology in getting Klaus’s attention. The silent one shakes his shoulder in a laugh, petting Gilbird properly and softly making the bird click happily.

It takes some convincing for Gilbird to leave his new friend but even so, it takes a lot more to convince Gilbert to actually leave. It’s hard for him to keep up properly with Klaus’s hand motions but he gets the idea well enough. The customer thinks he’s awesome.

“You should come to the next show too,” Gilbert tells him. Klaus’s smile widens with a quick nodding of his head. He practically fumbles with himself trying to find tickets to the next show. He really does fumble when Klaus looks back at him with such adoration his cheeks actually flare up with heat. It’s embarrassing when Gilbird sense his mood and covers his face with their wings.

“I’ll see you there yes?” He makes sure, peeking out between the feathers. Klaus signs out his agreement, petting Gilbird one last time before walking off and disappearing in the crowd. Gilbert puffs up his chest a little proudly. His bravado falls when Gilbird peeks his head in annoyance for flaunting.

He makes decent cash from working one of the booths. Enough to eat food that’s not deep friend twelve times. It’s one of the better carnivals in his opinion, having a few different attractions besides just rides but also a few shows to go along. It also helps the rides don’t creak too badly making it seem less sketchy than a traveling carnival might.

“Good golly gumdrops!” Arthur directs his smile to a customer who snuck up on him. They are leaning on the banister, eyes full of stars with their sights set on a giant sparkly plush cupcake that’s twice as big as their head.

“How are you doing tonight?” He asks like he’s supposed to, for a moment his smile becomes genuine at the enamored look the customer gives him.

“How do I win that one?” They point and practically shake in their spot. Arthur chuckles and picks up a few darts.

“Pop ten balloons,” He explains. The customer ruffles on their person and pulls out the right money to play the game. Arthur gives them their darts and leans back to not get impaled.

“Nice,” He lets out a low whistle when they manage to get the first four balloons popped. They giggle happily and spin in an energetic circle quickly.

“I just- It’s so cute!” They nearly shout at him. Arthur snorts and shakes his head.

“You got a thing for pastels?” He teases offhanded. The customer smirks at him playfully then throws another dart, popping the target easily.

“I love bright colors and cupcakes are my favorite,” They tell him. Arthur stares a little longer than he should making the customer puff up in a soft blush and throw another dart a little harder than necessary.

“How long have you worked here?” They ask him suddenly. Arthur shrugs.

“A year or so now?” He hops up on the banister carelessly. Another balloon pops and he doesn’t bother to blow up more as is there is not a lot of people about to actually play the game.

The customer throws another dart, and with only two balloons left to gain their prize Arthur is ready to get the cupcake down for them. He finds himself smiling softly at the stranger as they stick their tongue out part way in concentration. He watches as they take a deep breath with a certain hardness coming to their expression.

They throw their last dart and it misses the balloon by a hair. Arthur shrugs to them, ready to give the ‘better luck next time’ spiel when the words get caught in his throat. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so sad to not win the prize. They have their choice of any of the smaller prizes but they look absolutely crestfallen at being so close. He rubs the back of his head.

“I uhm,” He begins and they blink at him sadly. He’s not sure how true their tears are but it pulls at his heartstrings just the right way. He goes over to the cork board, glancing about to the other game hosts to see if anyone is watching.

“Wow!” He exclaims loudly though a little fake to get the pastel customer’s attention they tilt their head curiously. Arthur grabs one of the darts and slams it into one of the balloons to make it pop. He smacks his hands to his face dramatically and continues his exclamation in a deadpan voice.

“You did it. Oh wow. I’ve never seen this before,” He says. The customer covers their mouth with a hand and begins to giggle hard. Arthur smiles to himself as he uses his hook to pull down the giant cupcake plush. He hands it over to them and they squeeze it tight to their chest, now crying happy tears instead.

“Thank you,” They whisper to him. Arthur shrugs. He won’t get in too much trouble. As long as he doesn’t make it a habit it should be fine. He goes back to his spot on the banister, watching as the customer walks away with a bounce in their step. He raises an eyebrow when they look back to him. His confusion rises as they jog back to him quickly.

“What time do you get off?” They ask politely. Arthur takes a peek at his watch and mentally counts the hours.

“Around midnight,” He tells them. The customer smiles into the cupcake plush then hops to their tip toes.