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Everything had gone better than expected! Or worse, in Philippe's case. Demon watched snickering as he stumbled backwards into a stack of birdcages. Only one broke open, but that was enough to send the young man into another panic. Now, with Philippe fumbling to catch the birds, Demon was unable to suppress her laughter. She clutched her sides and laughed in a manner that made her imp-like mask seem that much more appropriate.

As if all of this wasn't enough, a loud pop followed by Fiona's angry shouts only sent the trickster into another fit of laughter. Two birds with one stone- what an accomplishment! Managing to get her laughter under control, Demon hopped over the crates and landed very suddenly in front of the boy- all in one easy movement, "Boo!"

She bit her lip to hold back yet another fit of laughter, and instead lifted her mask so that she might more easily give the boy a friendly word of advice, "You know- if it were me, I'd probably be wanting to run right about now. Miss Foolsfoot doesn't sound too happy."

That was an understatement. Fiona was usually angry, but she sounded especially furious now that her afternoon had likely been ruined. Demon had enough sense to disappear when the woman was in this sort of mood, but Philippe still seemed too panicked to realize what was going on.

With a humored smile, Demon turned her eyes toward the bird in his hands, and let out another giggle, "I don't think that's going to protect you."

It was almost as if you could hear Fiona steadily storming her way toward them, so Demon pulled the mask back over her face, and adopted a more urgent tone, "Well? Are you just going to wait here and let her beat your head in? Run!"

With that said, Demon hoisted herself to the top of the stacked crates. Sitting just out of reach with her legs crossed, her mischievous smirk was concealed by the crazed grin of her second face- now looking down at the boy expectantly as she waited for him to make his escape. Here she had the perfect view, and with the magician's luck, she would also be safe.

After pulling a novelty throwing knife from each of her sleeves, Fiona did not waste another moment. She was off. She raced after Philippe as though he'd stolen one of her prized books... or humiliated her in front of the other performers.

It was just Philippe's luck, really. If it hadn't been for Demon and Zerah turning up to see the impromptu show, she might have let him off with a kick to the nuts and an afternoon in the Bus of Horrors. Instead, she was going to beat him until his screams echoed through the grounds. She almost gained on his head start when he stumbled, rolled and scrambled back to his feet. She could almost taste his sweat in her mouth as she huffed behind him. The kid was running for his life.

Philippe skidded around the corner of a tent and Fiona followed. She wasn't as lucky however. A puddle - which hadn't been there when Philippe ran past - caught her by the foot and stuck. The speed of her halt yanked her back and legs with whiplash. Her knives skidded across the ground and there was an unproportionally loud squelching noise. Fiona fell flat on her face into - you guessed it - more confetti. Fiona roared in frustration and ponded her hands against the ground. They too squelched into the wet confetti, splattering not only the ground around the puddle but her hair and the only clean place left on her: her back.

'BUMBLEBEE!'

Fiona's luck just got worse.

The sodden magician raised herself warily to her feet, scooping up one of the knives as she did. It was slimy in her hand and she was sure it would slip and slide out of her hand if she tried to use it. She stood ready for a fight but did not make a move. This was not a battle she could win.

''And 'im over, C-'unt.'

Fiona knew he wouldn't but she was going to make a show of this. So long as Carlisle didn't notice the damage to his coach she would be fine.

'I don't think I will,' he said, deliberately eyeing up and down the mess that could be called Fiona.

'Yes ye will. 'E owes me summit.'

'No.' Carlisle smirked, knowing how much Fiona hated backing down. 'You're going to clean off your -' he made a show of eyeing her up and down again, 'mistakes and Philippe will come with me.'

Fiona didn't move, would not move. She still had her knife; she could at least strike Philippe before leaving. She sidestepped Carlisle and made a grab for the boy's shirt. The shirt tore as Carlisle moved himself between the magician and the teen. Fiona only just had time to block a counter-strike to her back. It was lucky. She didn't think her back could deal with much more. Still, she made a half-hearted stab the the arm protecting Philippe. It cut through the ring master's sleeve and scratched the skin. Carlisle ignored it.

Carlisle did the only kind thing he could in the situation: he didn't strike back. He'd heard of Fiona's fall and knew just as well as she that she couldn't fight him in her condition. Instead, he lowered his voice so only he, Fiona and Philippe would hear. 'Look around, Fiona. People are staring at you. Soon the whole circus will know you made a fool of yourself. Do yourself a favour and get out of here before I get mad.'

EDIT: I forgot to mention what happened when Fifi attacked Carlisle: last line, penultimate paragraph.

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The only thing that alerted Demon to Zerah's arrival was the gentle cooing of doves. The birds had chosen him as their new perch. While he didn't seem entirely distressed by the fact, it still enticed a quiet giggle from the trickster.

When Zerah spoke, repeating in essence what Demon had suggested only a moment before, Philippe finally seemed to come to his senses. The boy scrambled to his feet just as Fiona came into view. Philippe took off, and Fiona charged after him, blades in each of his hands, "Well I hope she doesn't kill him."

The lack of compassion in that statement made it clear Demon really didn't care as much as she might have- considering this was all her fault. In fact the words were almost humorous, as if it would be an interesting turn of events if the magician did get her bare hands around Philippe's throat.

Quiet words from Zerah caught her attention, and she regarded him for a quiet moment behind the mask before letting out a laugh. The sudden noise caused the birds perched atop him to flap their wings in momentary distress before settling once again.

"Don't be silly- would I do something that cruel?" The girl's question was filled with mischief and, and as if that weren't enough to answer it, she hopped from the crates, and landed easily on Zerah's shoulders. The birds, of course, scattered- but she paid no mind as she brought herself to a handstand on the Anthroparion's head, "There's nothing wrong with a little practical joke. I can't help it if he got so easily spooked."

With that said, the girl dropped from her handstand, now sitting on Zerah's shoulders. With one hand, she pointed dramatically in the direction Philippe and Fiona had run, before issuing an order to the man beneath her, "Now! Let's go see Fiona beat the kid up. Off we go!"

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Demon wasn't quite prepared when Zerah took off, and so scrambled to steady herself before wrapping her arms around his neck. For a block of stone- albeit a well disguised block of stone, Zerah was fairly quick on his feet. It seemed like no time before they came upon Philippe, Fiona, and.. The ring master!

As Zerah slowed to a stop, he mentioned missing out on the show. He couldn't be more wrong. Demon lifted her mask to get a better view of Carlisle, eager to see the calm strength he so often displayed when Fiona crossed him. It took a moment for the young woman to realize Zerah had whispered something to her, and when it finally registered, she shook her head quickly, "Wait- this ought to be just as interesting."

A grin lit her features as she watched Carlisle easily handle the feisty magician, and she looked the part of a delighted child as Fiona was flung out of sight- Leaving only Carlisle and Philippe inside the dispersing circle of spectators, "Isn't he fantastic?" It was strange how she could show so much admiration for the man, when very few others in the carnival could demand her respect. Not waiting for a response, she decided to answer the question Zerah had quietly asked her moments before.

Slipping off of his shoulders and hopping down beside him, Demon adopted a thoughtful expression before an idea seemed to occur to her, "Let's visit Samara! I don't know about you, but I'd like to test out her aim." It was obvious Demon's idea of target practice may not have been the safest, but this wouldn't have been the first time she had put herself into an unnecessarily dangerous situation just to play a ridiculous prank.

"Come on! You're going to help!" She gave him a grin, before taking off in search of the knife thrower and waving for him to follow.

The big cats lounged in the afternoon sun, panting in leonine fashion with their tongues lolling, razor sharp fangs just visible above gently furred lips.
Leopold lay among them, enjoying the company of his beloved felines as they blinked sleepily in the sun.
The cats weren’t caged or leashed of course; he hated to confine his beloved animals, and allowed them to roam free whenever he could. Of course when the circus was moving that wasn’t possible, but here at rest in the city of Denver, he could finally let them loose.

The seven of them sat on the top of a trailer, enjoying the peace and quiet that was so unusual. Even when there weren’t any crowds there was usually shouting of some kind, along with the sounds of building, conversations and other ordinary, everyday sounds.
Unfortunately the silence did not last long and was obviously the lull before the storm, because a moment later an almighty “CRASH!” filled the air, along with the indistinct sounds of a woman shouting – from the sound of it, it was probably the ever – violent Foolsfoot. What she had done escaped him, but even as he placed one hand over his head in an effort to shield himself from the racket the noise intensified.

Arrow, the largest and most temperamental of Leopold’s tigers raised his head and rumbled, which caused Leopold to sit up and stare in the direction of the disturbance. It sounded as if more had joined the fray - and with an audience, Foolsfoot would get even more feisty and temperamental. Something about her system of honour stated that when she made a fool of herself when someone was watching, they paid for her mistake.
Arrow rumbled again, but as Leopold put out a hand to quiet him he got a scorching glare from the male tiger, which caused Sasha in turn to sit up and give a warning growl of her own.

In the middle of a fierce stare down between two dangerous big cats that could rip him to shreds at the last moment, Leopold was strangely calm.
That was the last of that, then.
The boy stood and climbed nimbly down from the caravan, followed by Sasha, then ever so slowly by the rest of his cats, who took just enough time to let him know that they left when they pleased, not because of any signal on the boy’s behalf. The relaxing afternoon that he had planned was ruined, and somebody was probably being beaten to a pulp somewhere in the circus grounds, but he supposed that things could be worse. It could be raining, couldn’t it.
After a suspicious glance at the sky and a hurried knock on wood to stave off any bad vibes he may have caused by the thought Leopold lead his heard of cats back through the tents towards the area that was designated for him and his cats.
Leopold knew that Sasha would keep a close eye on Arrow, who was prone to wandering at the worst of times, and so he and his fury tide of irate and sleepy cats marched – right into the path of the Demon, and März, that weirdly charismatic stone guy. He had heard a lot about the nature of the stone clown and how he had “belonged” to the old oddities collector. He seemed to have a steady head on his shoulders, no pun intended, but the Demon, on the other hand was quite another story.


“Ahhh”
He muttered, stopping in his tracks. Big cats flowed around him like a diverted stream, and Leopold looked around, more than slightly distracted.


“Do not let me mind you.”
He said in his thick Russian accent, getting the phrase wrong as he so often did.

The basket was bare, but her heart was content.

All of the children that desired something sweet were granted just that. They, then, ran off to their parents to bless them with the immense sugar rush that was on its way.

Anastasia pranced merrily past the various colors and sounds and attractions of the carnival. It was always so bright and alive. That's why she loved it so. She spin and twirled her way over toward the performance tent, where her act was to start sometime soon.

Being so filled with joy apparently clouded the little dancers' mind. So much, in fact that she wasn't paying attention to where she was going and skipped straight into something hard and sturdy.

"Aie!" she exclaimed, falling promptly on her bottom. She whined a bit for a moment, before looking up at what she'd so stupidly ran into, or whom for that matter.

Upon seeing März towering over her, as everyone seemed to do, Anastasia gave a quick, but audible "Eep!" before shuddering out a embarrassing apology, in her broken English.

"I-I am soo sorree! I shuud' hav' ben w-watc-watching me bett'r " her words came out in a jumble, but were understandable to a basic degree.

Noticing she was still on the ground, the girl picked herself up with speed, hoping not to doom herself with anymore embarrassment for the time being, while cursing her awkwardness in her thoughts. Stupide, stupide! Je suis une fille maladroite!

Before she could regain her composure, she saw the other two figures standing near the tall, stone man.

Seeing Leopold, surrounded by large cats, wasn't much of a scare, due to the fact that she'd sometimes sit with the older cats that belonged to the old lion tamer, bless his heart; the few that no longer performed, but weren't yet sickly. But tricky Demon was a whole other story entirely. J'espère qu'elle ne joue pas un autre truc sur moi... she hoped, silently.

"A-ah, De'mon! An' Leopol too. Wher' al' are you to bea'heading?" she smiled quickly, trying to make polite conversation and erase her clumsy moment, while her heavy accent morphed the sounds of their names.




Note!
Aie! - Ouch!
Stupide, stupide! Je suis une fille maladroite! - Stupid, stupid! I am such a clumsy girl!
J'espère qu'elle ne joue pas un autre truc sur moi ... - I hope she does not play another trick on me..