Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was quiet as Flynn walked around the dull red tent, hands shoved in her pockets, cigarette in her mouth. The only sound came from her boots crunching the gravel beneath her weight. The air was soft and cool, caressing her skin like so many ethereal hands. The idea made her shiver and she pulled the collar of her jacket up to cover her neck.

Her hair lay lazy to the left as she was not performing and there was no reason to style it. It was dark and everyone was asleep in their tents. She stopped briefly, dragging on her cigarette and exhaling slowly. She looked at her hand. There was a long gash running from the back of her knuckles to her wrist. She had dropped a knife today.

Since her arrival in this place, Flynn had found a new sense of direction; one that was not all together unpleasant. She smiled, thinking of her parents. She did not wonder if they missed her. She did not care if they knew she was even gone. She felt more at home here than she ever had before.

Her cigarette finished, she stomped the end with her boot and continued her walk, leaving the section meant for jugglers and entering the main tent where all performers made their names in bright lines of fire and steel.

Flynn walked into the section of the tent where the jugglers accoutrements were kept and selected three large knives, jagged and stained with blood. Her own blood had stained them only so very recently. She lifted them slightly, inspecting the handles for flaws and dirt clods that would throw off the weight. Finding nothing, she began to juggle them, her mind empty and only her reflexes guiding her hands.

After a few minutes of without any mishaps, she miscalculated and dropped one of the knives again, the blade slicing the back of her wrist and falling to the floor. She tried desperately not to cry. If Enero knew that she had cried over losing a little bit of blood, he would give her a lot of blood to cry over. She replaced the knives and stumbled around the tent, looking for something to bind her arm with.

Flynn whirled around, panicking, startled and angry that she had been sneaked up on. She gritted her teeth against the pain, noticing a feral gleam in the visitors eyes. It worried her.

"I'm fine. You shouldn't be here."

Flynn took the hem of her shirt and ripped it deftly, unable to find anything better. She lay her arm on her knee, inspecting the wound in the dim lighting. It was deep and oozed sickly red. Enero would not be happy with her. She looked back up at the girl, studying her. Dressed shabbily in clothes that hung off of her thing frame, nails filed to claws. It dawned on her that this girl must be the resident freak: Fury. She had never seen her before but she had heard stories and knew better than to begin conversation with her. She backed away slowly, dropping the scrap of cloth, blood dripping onto the dusty ground.

Flynn's eyes widened, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. There was something in the girl's voice that compelled her. It frightened her more than the fact she was face to face with her at all outside of performance. It was forbidden. She took a tentative step forward, feeling very dizzy. She slumped, buckling, eyes rolled back. She stayed on her feet but she was blinded. Slowly her strength left her, she fell to the ground. Part of her hoped against hope the girl might help, but more of her hoped she would just leave her there. It might kill her but it was better than being found out being near her. It was just because she was the only freak. If she had been a tumbler or even a beast trainer, the outcome would be the same. If only she were a tumbler she might help.

Flynn began to cry softly, attempting to push herself back onto her feet. Each attempt weakened her until she could not even lift her head off the ground. She knew she was stupid. Her hair was covered in dust and hung limply in her eyes. Her face was caked with bloody mud from having fallen into a trail of it. The tears cut their way through the mud, leaving harsh white trails left behind in the dark red dirt. She knew that she just need to rest, hopefully the bleeding would stop.

When Flynn came to, it was still dark. Her head pounded. She shut her eyes tightly, dust falling away from her face. She noticed that her arm had been bound and the bleeding had stopped. She looked around. A few feet away tracks led through the dust, changing gradually from bare human feet to dainty cat paws. Flynn knew what had happened and she was terrified. She owed her life to someone outside her caste.

She tried to stand, but at the moment she was still too weak. Fishing in her pockets, she retrieved her last cigarette. finding no lighter, she looked around for a rock to strike her knives on. Then she heard the striking of a match. It startled her and she turned her head sharply to find the noise. A few feet from her, Enero stood, holding the bloody serrated knife that had damaged her so badly. He held the match to the tip of her cigarette and she lit it slowly, fear creeping into her bones.

"You aren't ready for these and I told you that," he said quietly, "Let me see your arm." She hesitantly held out her arm to him. He removed the makeshift bandage slowly, long fingers working delicately. She idly admired the tattoos adorning his arm, waiting for the day when she would have her own. She looked back at her arm. The cut was deep but not fatal if stitched properly.

"I'm..I'm sorry." She mumbled, barely making herself heard in the quiet. He pulled a needle from his many pockets and began to sew her arm. Normally he would let a pupil who had defied him die in the manner of which a juggler should die, but so many had come that did not belong to him and he was hard for entertainment these days.

"You will work the sandbags until this heals. Understood?" He held out his hand for her knives, blue eyes piercing her gaze. She looked away, removing the knife belt from her waist and handing it to him. He stood up, and looked down at her thoughtfully. She hoped he did not see the footprints in the dirt. Enero extended a hand to help her to her feet, taking the cigarette from her fingers and dragging on it slowly. He returned it and gave her another hard look.

"You're lucky you bound it before you fainted. But you did such a good job making it so very tight. Was there anyone else here?"

Flynn tried her hardest to hide the fear flooding her face. She shook her head, knowing her voice would betray her. Once she had collected her nerve, she said:

"No. Necessity dictated that I should make it tight. I am sure that adrenaline took over for my basic motor functions." She looked at the ground, unable to look him in the eye. He sighed softly and turned to leave.

"Remember where you are Flynn. This isn't a place that brings people together. You'll find most often it tears us apart." Upon passing her these cryptic words, he left just as suddenly as he came, leaving her alone in the tent with her turmoil of thoughts.

Left alone, Flynn exited the tent. She looked around in the darkness, cigarette flaring brightly. She knelt down, the stitches in her arm drawing tight and pinching. Flynn winced but it didn't hurt for long.

"Here kitty, kitty kitty," she called, extending her hand and rubbing her fingers together. She stood up, looking around for a cat. She didn't see anything and she didn't know where the girl might be. Freaks were a mystery to her. But knowing that she was the only one made Flynn sadder than she had been in a long time. She knew what it was like to be flung into abandonment.

She began to walk toward her own tent slowly, hoping to run into the cat. She needed to tell that girl that a debt was owed her and because she was a shapeshifter it was possible, just maybe for them to see each other without getting caught. Her thoughts turned to the Ringmaster and she shivered violently. She crushed the cigarette end beneath her boot and looked up at the sky, feeling lonely again for the first time in a long while.

When Flynn returned her eyes to the ground, they landed on the girl shadowed by the tents standing like silent giants all around them.

She looked away nervously but then fixed her eyes on the girl once more. She stepped forward, mouth open, struggling for what she should say. Suddenly no words or thoughts came to her mind and she was left standing, dumbfounded and looking foolish.

"I...I.." Flynn swallowed hard, her mouth dry with lingering fear.

"Thank you..." she mumbled, but she knew the girl would hear her.