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“Being a single child, I never really had to learn share my things so: Grrrrr! MY chemicals!”

Zarah seemed altogether unenthusiastic about helping and just went back to reading the trashy romance novels that he lugged around. Not being very good with romance Felix couldn’t understand the appeal of those kinds of books. They were also too predictable and any plot that you can sum up with one sentence is bound to be bad, at least according to him. With the appearance of Cookie it became clear that all the work would have to be done by Felix himself, seeing as Demon was now distracted too. That was the downside about being good at something: people never do things for you; they expect you to do it all.

It didn’t help his slightly bitter mood at having to do all the work when he studied the charred and blackened form of Cookie. Felix suddenly had a sneaking suspicion that the mime had been in his chemical storage shed and his teeth ground in agitation. Then again, Cookie could have just as likely gotten them from Akito but Felix’s stock of explosives and chemicals was vast compared to the collectors and he wasn’t really in the mood for reason at the moment. Either way it was more likely that his stash had been raided and he felt betrayed. Felix’s eye twitched but he forced himself to go back to the task at hand. He would talk to the mime later...

Seeing as Zerah hadn’t really given him a straight answer Felix just gathered the whole box of fireworks up and put them in the tent, positioning them so they would stay within the confines of the tent when they were set up. He unreeled the fuses and dumped the end of it into Zerah’s free hand.

“Hold this and don’t drop it or set it on fire.” his irritation only hinted in the tone of his words. He was about to walk off but did a double take and pointing next to a nearby tent said: “Actually, can you bring those fuses over there? Don’t pull on them! Just let it fall naturally.” It would be relatively safe spot for spectators with the tents on both sides and the slight trench-like dip in the earth and would certainly be the best place to view the impending fireworks.

Felix fiddled around with the rest of the set up, tinkering and fine tuning it, despite how crude the job was, and placed the salute firework into the launching tube. Okay, he was almost ready. A slight breeze picked up as he started walking over to Demon and Cookie, he hoped that it would die down before the explosion started. As he walked he began to tensely fiddle with his flame thrower/lighter, wishing for a flame to relieve his pent up emotions but knowing full well that he would have to wait. Reaching the two he tapped Demon on the shoulder.

“by the way... don’t worry about the cats; they’re most likely going to freak no matter where they are, there’s nothing we can do about it” he said honestly, which was his way of being comforting despite its low success rate. He wasn’t very good with making people feel better. He directed his gaze to talk include Cookie in the conversation, “Either way we’re ready now, and unless you want shrapnel in you I recommend you all take cover.” He gestured over to the more solidly built tent he had pointed out to Zerah. “You won’t be likely to be hurt over there and it has a good view.”

Just as he finished Anastasia came into view, all happy smiles and greetings but when she saw the throng of pranksters gathered around Samaras tent she halted. A conglomeration of confusion and slight shock appeared on the girls face as she seemed to figure out what was going on. After awkwardly staring at them for a few seconds she turned and walked away. Felix sighed in an exasperated manner. Everyone in the entire circus knew he was helping Demon with this prank and, though he knew that inevitably everyone would find out, he had at least hoped that there would be some conjecture about whether he actually helped or not. At least the French Girl wasn’t one for telling on people, she tended to let people doom themselves rather than help or hinder.

Well, there was no backing out now so he might as well get on with it. He walked over to their detonation spot and said “Okay! Get clear! Blowing up tent up in 3...2...1” Felix flicked his lighter and a large orange flame shot up. He held the end of the fuse in the dancing fire and the rope lit. The flame started to travel rapidly towards the tent. Waiting ten seconds Felix moved over to the flashy fireworks and the Salute’s fuse and did the same.

There was dead silence for what seemed like an age as he waited with baited breath for the action to start. Suddenly a coughing hiss emanated from the tent followed by a massive stuttering “B-BOOM!” as the large box of miscellaneous fireworks detonated.

The tent bulged under the strain of the force of at least ten fireworks going off simultaneously and sparks, smoke and bits of broken furniture escaped from between gaps in the canvas. The staccato pops of the combusting crackers echoed out into the night as blue-green flames started to lick at the thick fabric of the tent.

By the time the ear splitting Salute and show fireworks went off the tent was a blazing inferno of twisting flame. Felix was in his moment, the fire expressed more of him than any other thing could and he watched, eyes sparkling, as the tent turned to an ash skeleton under the wild and leaping power of the flames.

“.................. hehehe. Awesome....”

The big lion, as if sensing the boy’s desire to be off, carefully extracted himself from the dancer’s encircling arms and padded slowly over to the tamer. Even though he was old and stiff with arthritis (and perhaps a touch senile) he still loved to perform. It was in his blood.

Anastasia was on her feet by now, hurridly picking coarse hairs off her brilliant red dress. With her green hair, the tamer thought she sort of looked like a sophisticated version of a reverse Christmas tree.
She gabbled at the cats in her form of English, moving through the mob with surprising grace and ease – not many people could pull that off, traipsing carelessly through a mob of dangerous predators.
Almost as an afterthought she turned before she exited the place, smiling brilliantly despite her sadness before.
"Oh! Ah, Gud luck on tha' sho' to`nite!" And she skipped away.


The sounds of the crowd were growing louder now, impatient as they were for the next act to begin. They had wasted much time, Fiona was already gone from the ring, and the lights were dimmed.
The cats and he had entered through a closed back entrance to the tent, specially designed for such a movement. Secrecy and calmness were integral to any pre – show entrance, especially when you were involving wild animals.

Leopold placed his garish top hat atop his head before waving to the guy in charge of the mechanics and the special effects – it wasn’t Felix tonight. How strange. He knew that the pyromaniac was hardly the only back stage guy, but he usually liked to handle Leoplold’s show himself (Probably because it involved fire and smoke).

Slowly and dramatically, a loose chainmail cage dropped from the ceiling, completely encompassing the ring, sealing out the crowd for their, and the animal’s protection, while providing an un obstructed view of the act itself.
The spotlights centred, and it was time.

Music swelled, quieting the crowd to a whisper whilst the haunting, pulsing music moved through the stands. It was almost like a living beast itself, rippling, moving, graceful and predatory all in one.
The ring began to fill with smoke, and within seconds the ground was covered with a roiling cloud of mist that made the ring look like a creepy graveyard, rather than a gaudy tent.
The music swelled to a climax...

“BOBO!” The shout, amplified by a microphone, announced the strangely dressed tiger into the ring. The spotlights danced confusedly. Where was it? What was going on...?
Ahh. The spotlights refocused, just in time.
The tiger bounded into the ring, all 200 kilos of stripy, grinning fur. It had a clown hat on its head, and a ridiculous ruff around its neck that was distinctly clown like.
“Bobo! Syuda pryamo syeĭchas!*” Leopold strode angrily into the ring, an exaggerated frown on his painted face. The whip trailed behind, held loosely in one hand.

The tiger waggled his rear like a puppy, bounding around the ring away from the tamer.
“Vy glupye tigra . Chto eto na tebe?*” It didn’t really matter what the tamer was saying most of the time, they usually toured English speaking countries – but the tamer liked to keep things real.
He stomped towards the tiger, brandishing the whip in a mock threatening manner. “Ty mne nelovko*.” He flipped the whip towards the tiger, but before it could do any damage, the beast gripped it in his jaws and tossed it away.

The tamer rounded on the tiger who cowered back, stamping with exaggerated slowness towards the seemingly helpless animal, heedless of the music that was once again beginning to swell.
“Vniz.*” The tiger rolled on his back with his feet in the air, the picture of innocence. The tamer refused to relent, stalking towards the animal as smoke once again rolled into the arena behind his back.

Something stirred in the smoke, something with deep yellow eyes, and gleaming white fangs. The leopard moved through the smoke like a wraith, heading towards the tamer’s back. A black shadow at her shoulder; the panther stalked as well. The mountain lion, on the other side, a tiger at the back... and finally, a great lion with a huge shaggy mane, all grimly pursuing the tamer as he rounded on the poor little tiger that cowered at the other end of the ring.
The smoke seemed to follow the pack as they moved into the ring, the music matching their movements as if the cats and it were made for each other.
They reached the back of the tamer as the music swelled, and, as if just now sensing the danger, he turned with a scream...

Only to be buried under a mob of fierce, angry cats. They tore at him, claws flashing in the confused lights of the circus. Were they killing him? Surely this was just an act? Someone in the crowd screamed. The music ceased, lights went out.

For a heartbreaking second the arena was dark and silent, broken only by the terrified sounds of the crowd as they awaited the fate of the lion tamer.
And just when it seemed all too much, the lights suddenly flared bright as the sun as they caught on six mirrored surfaces...

Leopold stood, dressed in a white suit and red cape in the arena on a tall pillar that was mirrored on all sides. All around each cat stood on its own pillar, glorified for all to see.
In the centre, a giant hoop burst into flame.
The act had begun.


The cats piled off the stage, followed by Leopold, mopping his face with a towel. It had been a good show, a success, as al-

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!”

The cats, as one, jumped in fright as an explosion tore through the night. Leopold had barely any time to register what was going on before another explosion roared again.
The crowed panicked.
The cats scattered.

“Derʹmo.*”




*You come here right now!
*You silly tiger. What are you wearing?
*You're embarrassing me.
*Down.
*s**t.


{{OOC: There was HEAPS more, but I had to cull it sad }}

Gina's act was mesmerising. Calim loved the way her movements flowed like the silk that moved around her. She was stunning. Each pose was so perfect, so strong and oh so beautiful. At times he had to hold onto his tail to keep control of the tension building in his chest. At any moment the silk dancer could make a mistake and fall - but she never did. Not once had the man seen her fall, though many times he had tensed reflexively anyway.

There was something about her, something bold yet fragile that he could never pinpoint and didn't have the ability to articulate. In most cases he didn't feel the need to either. The mousey puppeteer was more the type to admire from afar than approach the person he admired. Calim sighed. Perhaps he should approach her, but he had no idea how and the only person who could help him would have a hard time keeping her laughter in check.

The person in question just so happened to be the one after Gina's. When Calim stood to applaud her, he was also applauding his longest and dearest friend, Fiona Foolsfoot.

'Fly to the sun, Bumblebee,' he whispered as he watched the silent figure's head jerked up from where it rested on her chest. He knew he would have gotten in trouble if she'd heard him call her by her old stage name but he'd never stopped doing it. He never would, simply because she'd never hurt him for it like she would anyone else.

To be honest, Calim found Fiona's entire performance upset him. He knew she'd had to perform a new routine and he knew why. It was that spat she'd had with the ringmaster over a week ago when she'd refused to do last week's performance. He just wished she'd told him she'd be performing something like this. That she didn't wasn't unusual; she didn't make a habit of talking about her performances but that she hadn't said anything about this one was important. It was very important indeed.

She'd opened with the exact act her brother had died performing, and that caused a frown to mar that would mar his face until he'd found some kind of resolution. In fact, found himself struggling to pay attention to anything else after Fiona's show faded to black once more. He even startled slightly as the chainmail of Leopold's show rattled into place.

As the show started, Calim watched as the cats moved about. It seemed something wasn't quite going right but he couldn't tell what. Soon the place was a complete confuzzle as the cats began playing up for real. Calim glanced around, wondering the if the crowd realised what was happening. In any case, it wasn't like the cats could harm anyone... other than Leopold but he was sure they'd never do that to their beloved pet.

If Calim had startled at the chainmail, it was nothing, nothing compared to the fright he got when the sound of an explosion ripped through the tent. He shat bricks! His first thought was that Fiona had, well, he didn't know. She was more destructive and aggressive than explosive. Even her attempt at burning the Big Top down had been done late at night so she'd have time to escape, and after hours of brooding.

So when everyone else was running to find out what the explosion was, Calim was running to find how bad a condition his friend was in. When he found her, she was surprisingly unconcerned with what was happening. He was relieved to see that she didn't have anything to do with the explosion but no so relieved that she was in costume.

'Bumblebee!'
Alas, all he got for his efforts was a deadpan look. He was silently glad he wasn't within arm's reach.
'Pu' a sock innit. I already kno ye think I di' it.'
Calim shook his head, crossed his heart and removed a yellow sock from his mouth. He then crouched to catch his breath.
'Will you, will you, won't you, will you come and join the dance?' he replied in a sing song voice. Care to watch the fireworks with me?
Fiona raised an eyebrow at him and put a hand on her hip. Was it just him or was she standing a little off?
'I ain't goin' anywhere near tha' mess. Ye know what'll 'appen.'
'Little Mouse gnaws at the Big Lioness's net.'
Normally Calim's jokes managed to make Fiona laugh.
'I ain't goin'.'

Calim gave a loud sigh and decided to change tact. If Fiona was in too bad a mood to enjoy the fireworks up close, they'd enjoy it
Calim bowed low, took off his black, mouse eared cap then scooped her hand in his. She immediately jerked it away. This time it was his turn to give her a deadpan look.

'Wha?'
'Beware! The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain.' I know you're upset but could you try to be nice?
Fine, I'm sorreh. Whaddeye' wan'?'
Calim cleared his throat, stepped back and posed, ready to sing his reply.
'Over the hills we go,
Through the streets of purple clover.
That's written a message for us,
As for every vagrant rover.
Let us rove the Greens.

Fiona snatched his hand and started walking. Some luck a last! Calim felt the seeds of triumph at getting Fiona back into the carnival.

OOC: Rough translations of Calim's way of speaking are in italics.
EDIT: Edited for stupidity.

Calim was doing his best to keep Fiona's concentration off the punters. He was even going so far as to walk backwards with two puppets identical to him and Fiona. It wasn't working and quite frankly, Calim was getting a bit miffed. If he was goin to go to all the effort of making her night a little brighter, she could at least appreciate his effort. He said none of this though. One wrong turn and Fiona would walk away, which was not what he wanted at all.

Fiona had to stay out in the public, if not to get used to being around people then to put herself back in the ringmaster's good books. Unfortunately, public meant interaction and being gawked at. Everywhere they went normal people were looking at Fiona's strange and skimpy costume. Some pointed fingers, some whispered and others even took photos from various angles. Some even came up to have their photos taken with her and Calim. At these times all they would hear of her swearing abuse were strings of snarls and barking. Some people even thought it was part of the act and mimicked her, pretending they were having a conversation. At these times Calim would have to put himself between his friend and his audience and distract them while she composed herself.

It was one of these times where she kicked Calim in the calf. He buckled with the unexpected attack and was leaped over. Fiona made short work of knocking a man to the ground and taking to his stomach with her fists, snarling abuse the whole time. Calim hadn't even seen why she'd reacted that way or whether the man had deliberately incited the magician's wrath. After her third bout of anger few people were tempted to get close enough to pose for the camera with her.

In between spouts of anger, Fiona would stretch, arch her back and roll her shoulders before the duo started walking once more. Even though the puppeteer tried his best, the magician seemed to be somewhere else tonight, somewhere Calim couldn't follow. Finally, he dropped his charade of contentment. The puppets dangling from within his fingertips made a popping noise as they disappeared.

'Bumble-' Calim stopped himself before he said one of her most hated nicknames. Finally, he had her full attention. 'Sunshine. Why oh why does little Alice cry? Did the Jack of Hearts steal her pie?' Tell me what's wrong. Is it about the fight with the ringmaster?

Fiona scowled and opened her mouth. It looked like she was about to lash out at Calim when something else stole her attention from him-

“Tha’ weasely li’l sneak ain’ the only one capable of causin’ a boom, ye f-”

'Wha' the fock di' ye jus' sei?'

Fiona spun on one heel to look down at the trickster. The look on her face was full of contempt. Calim could imagine, nay feel, the contempt steaming out of her. Truthfully, the air around her seemed to shimmer with heat. He couldn't tell whether it would be better to calm her or steer clear. Whatever his decision, he doubted Roxanne would get off lightly. He worried that the poor lady was going to feel the brunt of Fiona's anger.

“-Fffiona. I was just... Uh...”

'Ye were jus'... mimickin' me?' she snarled as she stood over the trickster. Luckily Roxanne scrambled away pick up her mask before Fiona did, otherwise she'd be getting it back in splinters... or whatever else Fiona thought up. At hearing the ring master call for Rozanne, Fiona smirked as only an evil magician could. The paint on her face curled into an almost demonic grin and Fiona clicked her fingers. As soon as he did, multicoloured ribbons slipped out from the tricker's shoes and curled around her legs. Unless someone (such as Carlise) did something fast, Roxanne's entire body would be entombed in restrictive bandaged. What was worse, Fiona seemed to be enjoying the scene.

OOC: Rough translations of Calim's way of speaking are in italics.

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦
xxxxxxx
xxxxxxx

Demon nearly made it around the quick-tempered magician before she felt something snake quickly around her ankles and work it's way up to her knees. Glancing down too late, the trickster only managed to half turn before she fell flat on her back, "No! No no no no no!" The panic in her voice was unmistakable, and while she tried to tear at the still moving ribbons with her fingers, something similar to a choked sob mixed in with her words, " Let me go! He'll catch me!"

Something told her Fiona was aware of this, and that only made the trickster fight a harder against the ribbons now around her waist. When she realized this wasn't going to do her any good, she decided on an action that was likely more foolish than the one that had gotten her into this mess. Swiftly, the girl rolled over to the magician's feet, and locked her arms tightly around the woman's legs. A sharp yank was all it took then to bring Fiona down.

Of course she didn't let go then- that would have been foolish. Instead, she kept her arms wrapped tightly around the woman's legs, pinning her to the ground in much the same way Demon was herself, "Let me go or I'll make sure he thinks you were behind it! It won't be hard to do, and you know it!" While that was probably the last thing on the magician's mind, Demon added pointedly for good measure, "I don't think Carlisle's going to be happy when he finds out you've been causing this much trouble in just one night."

Demon was doubtful that Fiona would let her go, but at least now she could get a bit of payback for the magician's impeding her escape- and when she was so close to getting away! The ribbons had made it to her arms now, and as they snaked loosely around her shoulders and neck they finally came to a stop, which brought an inaudible breath of relief from the trickster.

Well, at least it couldn't get any worse.

"No! No no no no no!"

Fiona expected and enjoyed this first part of Demon's reaction. A wicked grin was painted across her face in back and white paint, complete with jagged eyebrows pointing down between her eyes. Nobody would dare mock Fiona, nobody would mimic her and get away with it. Fiona would make sure the message stuck. Unfortunately, Fiona's moment of glory only lasted until Demon spoke again.

"Let me go! He'll catch me!"

'Fock!'

Fiona knew this sentiment well. Suddenly Demon's sobs and panic weren't as pleasurable. By the love of all that was holy, Fiona did not want to go down this road. She did not want to start caring about what happened to anyone, least of all this clown who was making a weak and pathetic scene in front of everyone. Why didn't she stand up for herself? Where was her integrity, her self-respect? Fiona was borderline on ordering the woman to get up off her feet, if it had not been for the ribbons binding her.

Even worse, Calim and several others were there to see it! He touched her shoulder and even though she was staring straight at Demon, she could feel the heat of Calim's look on her face. It was distracting and downright awkward. She knew exactly what he wanted her to do but she wasn't going to budge. Fiona couldn't show sympathy in front of everyone. If a single soul saw that she was actually considering letting Demon go, they'd walk all over her. If there was one thing Fiona was not, it was a push-over. Curse the clown for getting her into this predicament! Why couldn't the have just gone psycho on her rather than pleading?

It would be impossible to imagine the relief Fiona felt as Demon knocked her to the ground. So the whoopie cushion that miraculously echoed through the air was irritating and slightly embarrassing but at the same time it felt like a huge weight off her shoulders. She no longer had to care what happened to Demon because she was now an adversary. Fiona's eyes immediately narrowed in the way they usually did when someone stood against her.

Fiona yanked one leg free then stopped suddenly. What did Demon just say, she wouldn't dare. Nobody could be that stupid (or gutsy but Fiona did not want to give Demon the respect of that).

"I don't think Carlisle's going to be happy when he finds out you've been causing this much trouble in just one night."

Fiona uttered a string of cuss words that should never be repeated in public.

'Zip it affore I zip it fer ye!' Fiona threatened, pulling a zipper from one of her arm braces. She waved it in the air a moment before it puffed in a little cloud of grey smoke. Hopefully it wouldn't cause more wailing from Demon, Fiona didn't think she could handle that without finding a puppy to pummel afterwards. As it was, someone was going to get hurt very soon if this didn't end quick. Fiona had to think of a way to end this quickly too. No doubt Carlisle would believe Demon but Fiona had no intention of getting sent back to the Bus of Horrors or anything else Carlisle thought up. She could already see how it would play out. Carisle would get pissy, she'd fight back and they'd end in another battle where win or lose, Fiona would no doubt end up getting another bruise to add to her collection.

There was only one way out of this without looking like a fool. A quick glance at Calim warned him not to interfere so he just turned around and looked the other way. Whatever Fiona did, he could say he didn't see it.

Fiona grabbed the ribbons at the front of Demon's mummified chest and bent the tricker's finger back as far as they would go as a way to break her grip. She bent forward with a look of triumph on her face. She was going to make this work. Fiona placed her lips to Demon's ear and whispered, 'if ye wan' te las' rest o' the day ye'll do exactly as I say. I'm goin' te let ye go an' distract Carlisle long enough fer ye te get te yer show then ye're goin' te do me a little favour. As soon as ye nod, these binds'll go slack. Yer choice.'

OOC: Rough translations of Calim's way of speaking are in italics.
My opinions and Fiona's are totally different. Fiona is a cruel b***h.

Leopold tore the red cape from his shoulders as he moved out of the big top, eyes searching the crowd for his missing cats. Something bad was going to happen if he didn’t get them all under control soon; five angry frightened cats loose in a crowd of this size... and what if they got into the city itself?
The people would catch up with them soon enough, and then they would be killed. Only some of the crowd had actually fled the tent to go outside, but those that had were the noisiest. Children screamed and cried, people gabbled on their mobile phones to friends, the media, authorities, who knew? Some were gaping at the after effects of the fireworks, gaping at the burning remains of the tent and the coloured sparks that shimmered like the spray from a waterfall as they rained from the sky. Some were even taking pictures?
Fireworks? There was only one man in the entire circus that played with those infernal devices, and that was Felix. The tamer narrowed his eyes as he scanned the area for any sign of his precious cats. That explained why he wasn’t in the tent looking after the pyrotechnics tonight; he was busy orchestrating this disaster. It was unlike him to plan something like this, let alone pull it off; usually the explosions that the redhead created were accidents. That didn’t make them any less devastating though; the last time something had blown up due to that man’s incompetence the cats had clawed the tamer something fierce. He had gained seven stitches, a tetanus shot, and several days in hospital from that one, and now it was going to happen again - only to one of the punters.

Something inside Leopold began to bubble, red hot and fierce. It was a slow reaction at first, starting in the pit of his stomach and slowly spreading until it encompassed first his torso, his limbs, then his entire body. Felix was going to pay. If anything happened to the cats, or anyone else, that man was going to get it. The fact that he had frightened his poor felines so on purpose was unforgivable, and he was bound to do it again if he got away with it.

A series of screams and a mass of people fleeing from an alleyway drew Leopold’s attention away from Felix. That might be one of the cats! Pushing away any fears for his or the punter’s safety Leopold pushed through the small crowd of fleeing people and into the alleyway. Once inside the place he slowed. The alleyway was dark and cramped; there were tents on every side, and a short ways away he could see a tall fat tent jutting into the sky closing off any escape other than the road behind him. Someone was crying hysterically whilst someone else gabbled angrily in English, waving around a luminous square of blue light. ‘Probably a phone’, he thought.
Something growled in the darkness, a mewling, frightened sound that was obviously warning whoever the pair was to stay away, to go away. It sounded like Sasha.

Leopold almost cried with relief at the sound of that roar; Sasha was there! She was safe! He hurried towards the sound, towards the cat that was possibly the only being that he loved in the entire universe, and was about to throw himself down on the ground to comfort the poor thing when that growl sounded again, and sharp white claws slashed out of the darkness towards the tamer’s leg. Leopold fell back with a cry of surprise, almost crashing into the pair of people who had been in the alleyway before him. The angry one (a woman), called him stupid and said something about an angry big cat, gesturing to the crying one (a man). He was bleeding, clutching his arm to his chest as he watched the corner fearfully.

Poor Sasha! She was out of her mind with fear, and all of these people were not helping. The tamer inched forward on his knees towards the panicked animal, who inched back further into the a corner made by two tents side by side. “Tishe malenʹkogo kotenka, ya zdesʹ. Tishe malenʹkogo kotenka, ne boĭsya. Tishe malenʹkiĭ kotenok, tishe...*” The tamer called, his voice calm and soft. Sasha reacted slowly at first to the sound of Leopold’s voice, but as he continued to talk she calmed down enough for him to place his hands on her fur. She was still quivering.
‘One down, four to go’ He thought.

The man and woman looked at Leopold in astonishment as the cat calmed down, and allowed the tamer to hug it. “I know you!” the woman said, considerably less agitated now that the jaguar was no longer threatening to kill her. “You’re that tamer from the show!” Leopold stood, and started to walk out of the alleyway. “Your mangy animal hurt my husband!” the woman screeched, causing Leopold to pause. “That cut, it looks bad. You should take him to first aid tent.”

A deep growling roar cut through the night, startling the punters and Leopold once more. It sounded like a tiger, but which one the tamer did not know. He started to run, the jaguar loping along behind as they rushed to the rescue of whoever the roar belonged to. He hoped it was not Fletcher; the roar was probably caused by people, and an angry, frightened Fletcher was bound to cause infinitely more damage than Sasha.
Seconds later Felix and Cookie came pelting around the corner, followed by Bobo.
The tiger’s eyes were full of a feral rage, one that he had never seen the tiger display ever before. His clown hat was dangling around his neck, his ruffles askew and dirty.

“OSTANOVITʹ!” The tamer shouted, immediately going to his knees before the feral tiger.
“Tishe, tiho Bobo moya. Shhhhh...” The tiger, confused by the sudden change in attitude of his prey, stopped and shied to the side. Satisfied that the tiger could not do any immediate damage (He was still afraid, but now he was more likely to hide than anything else) the tamer stood, and turned to the fleeing pair.
“Felix” He said, his expression thunderous as he rounded on the fire – haired pyrotechnitian. “What... did you do?”


*Hush little kitten, I am here. Hush little kitten, do not fear. Hush little kitten, hush...
*STOP!
*Hush, quiet my Bobo. Shhhh.



{{OOC: }}