Log:An Evening at the Lost Circus
An Evening at the Lost Circus
OOC Date: December 8, 2021 (Optional)
Location: The Lost Circus
Participants: Luna Tokani, Tamsin Cas, Fyrris, Leith, Rook, Sar Yavok, Aconaa, Karr'roga
The most extraordinary thing about tonight is that it's just like any other night.
This place doesn't come alive when you arrive, no. It's a living, breathing place. You capture moments within it. The flashing lights and the laughter. The sounds and songs of machinery ringing playfully in the air. Light is distorted by all manner of optics, from mirrors to shiny jewelry. It spills out over everything that it touches, flickering and dancing in the dark. And there's a smell to it, too. A tempting smell of fried food, both sweet and savory, to tickle the senses. Spices, too. Exotic and familiar, blending together to create a melange of aromas likely to tempt any palate.
There are dozens of vendor stalls, but a few stand out. A short and squat alien woman with a raspy voice runs a jewelry stand. A tall, lanky Devronian is selling books ranging from old, dusty tomes to more contemporary literature. A bothan woman is selling what she claims to be antiques and architectural relics. Some of them even are! And, finally, a Togruta woman is selling a wide variety of different spices in glass jars. They are all engaged in casual conversation with various shoppers.
Luna Tokani is among those at the jewelry stand, thumbing at a bracelet that's been pulled from the glass showcase. She's holding it up to the light, inspecting how the gemstones studded within it glisten in the flashing lights of a game machine just behind her.
"And what stones are those, dear?" the Jewelry Merchant asks her.
"They look like? Tatooine? Panthrite and shale-gem," Luna says.
"Mmmm, yes. And yet you've never been to Tatooine?" she says, "You are a quizzical thing."
Luna smiles in return and places the bracelet on the glass, reaching to inspect another in line.
This was not at all the sort of place one might expect to find the good Doctor Cas. But then, Tamsin had a way of showing up in many a place those who knew her would not expect. Just so, as she wandered through the circus, paying more mind, for the moment, to the vendors than anything else the place had to offer. She had paused at one of the booksellers, and had tucked herself off to the side,a s she perused a stack of books that looked old enough to be crumbling and not in the least interesting. One never knew what treasures they might find among unwanted things.
The jewelry stand is what has the attention of the well dressed Codru-Ji wandering the stalls, a bit of fried, spicy, meat on a stick in one hand, another holding a disposable drink glass and the lower pair of arms resting with thumbs hooked in his pockets. Moving with a casual little stroll in his step when he stops, nodding to the blonde woman examining what she can find while motioning towards tie pins.
"No gem, just settings," bobbing his head when a few simple patterns are placed out for him to peruse while commenting off-handedly to Luna, "Looking to make some stones look like pebbles mmm?" a bite of his crispy fried meat and a slow chew before he continues, "Or just looking to make silver look like tin and gold like brass?"
A pin with a design like some sort of caterpillar like creature weaving around itself with upper legs set to hold a gemstone, the setting empty - but a glowing red crystal is drawn out from an inner pocket, tested against the fitting with a lazy sort of interest.
Leith found himself at the Lost Circus among the stalls randomly walking through the crowd. He'd stopped briefly as a Barker yelled for him to spend his credits to see the mysteries of the universe. The Wroonian male raised his eyebrow as the barker ran down the sights of wondermeant that Leith should fork out his credits to see.
The Lanky Devronian is selling books. He's currently engaged in conversation with another customer when the Good Dr. Cas arrives, but his eyes do turn in her direction briefly mid sentence.
"It is an excellent collection of poetry far outside its time. That era was not known for subtlty, and yet... the author was able to achieve such a sense of intimacy," he explains. His customer, a young human woman, is wrinkling her nose as he speaks. Something might imply that she is in some disagreement.
"All of these poems are about eating people," she says flatly.
"Mmm, yes, but it paints a rather vivid picture," the Lanky Devronian says. She tucks the book away and moves onto a different stall, freeing him up to turn his attention to Dr. Cas as she browses.
"An eye for the classics," he says, "Might I be able to point you in a more specific direction?"
"It is not for me. It is a gift," Luna replies to Fyrris, her head tipping quietly to the side at the man's question. She recognizes his face and voice, and there's a small frown that tugs on her lips at the sight of him. Even still, she's not unfriendly. Outside of clubs, Luna seems... different. She's still pretty, even in her simple dress and modest flats. Some people just have it, after all. But she's a bit more quiet. A bit less forward. When the man speaks to her, she doesn't entirely look at him. Not directly in the eye, at least.
"An eye for fine metals," the Jewelry Merchant says. Her voice is old. Leathery, but kind. There's a certain sort of warmth to it, and she happily produces the variety of different tie-pins that the man is searching for.
"They are grouped by artist, and I try to keep them arranged in gold to silver, but, ayyy," she says, and waves her hands. "I am interested in myths and folklore of all sorts, the more obscure the better." Tamsin lifted a shoulder, "What do you get the academic who has everything?" Tamsin tipped her head. Surely the bookseller knew her troubles. "But I am quite content to peruse while you tend to other customers, if you'd simply point me in the right direction, I would be happy to look through whatever you might have." Tamsin certainly gave no indication of being in any sort of hurry.
Rook is another unlikely participant in this arena, though it's less about respectability than the young human's distaste for... well, people. She's shouldering past a four-armed juggler with a scowl that would surprise very few, her expression wholly unrepentant as her interference sends one of the pins clattering to the ground. Surely he was the one invading -her- space. Whatever the conclusion, she's not holding still to hear about it. It's hard to say if the way she's sidling up to the jewelry vendor had more to do with intent or avoidance, but there she is, striking a less-than-impressive contrast off to Luna's left.
"You were at the race," she offers... ah, helpfully, as green eyes flicker across the dancer's new wardrobe. 'Look at the pretty girls' is another of her more common distraction techniques, and today is not a day to break from routine. Green eyes flicker toward the jewelry the younger woman has chosen, her mildly distressed expression managing to convey a hint of curiosity.
Aconaa wasn't sure what she was expecting from a circus, but the scene before her reminded her more of a bazaar than anything. Still, the smell of the foods was making her hungry, so she makes her way over to one of the fried food vendors to browse what was on offer. As she glances around, she notices all the jewelry and valuables on display at other vendors. "Brave having all that expensive stuff on display," she muses, letting out a dry chuckle before turning to the food vendor and grabbing something fried and spicy to snack on herself while she wanders around the displays a bit. She raises an eyebrow and glances in the direction of the poetry vendor when she overhears mention of poems about 'eating people'.
The Lanky Devronian lightly taps his lips as he considers the question. "What do you get anybody who has anything? Ohhhh, it is quite the conundrum, isn't it?" he says, moving towards Tamsin to help unfold the pile of books she's currently fingering through. "I suppose you might start at something unique. A first edition, perhaps. None of these are certified first editions, but I do have some... hmmm, yes," he says, and motions towards the far edge of his stall. There, behind glass, as if they were jewelry, are books laid out to show. All first editions. All original prints.
"These. One of a kind. And an academic? I should suspect towards this side," he says, and motions towards a row of books that certainly seem academic in nature. Old textbooks, with diagrams and charts.
Luna's response gets a raised brow and then the approach of Rook to the stand. Fyrris sets down the caterpillar pin and lifts one with a broad winged bird that looks like a songbird rather than a raptor
"Ah. Didn't mean to intrude, miss. Just trying to be polite." checking the same crystal against the setting, "So what is it that they do? Or what about them is your favorite? That's always the best route for a gift, in my experience." the hand holding his meat on a stick pointing a pinky at Rook now,
"For instance, this one..." he motions towards a set of combs, selecting one which is set at hard right angles, a series of squares cut into 'rings' that create further geometric patterns. The metal itself a silver-steel color, like one might see in hematite and speckled with gold topaz-like gems. "Hair, skin, the body art... using this to set a style in the hair, I would think accentuates." a polite nod to Rook, "My apologies for speaking of you as an example..." he pauses and lifts the comb again, "Am I incorrect?"
The sounds and sights of the circus continue to delight. On the main stage, a group of dancers toe-step on bare feet across the hard wood. Their outfits are small and two-pieced. Gold and silver continue the theme of bending and reflecting light, each contrasting with their skin tones. Their bodies are adorned in jewelry as well, to match their outfits. They dance and twist and twirl together to an audience that seems to be torn between artistic appreciation and a more carnal sort of titillation. The song they dance to is an up-tempo tune that seems to effortlessly switch to a key and time signature a bit more melancholy. As that song transitions, so do their maneuvers. From light, soft little steps to dragging their feet in low, lazy circles across the wood. The tune of that song carries through the circus, allowing all who are present to hear, even if they cannot see the dancers perform from their angle.
Leith frowns at the barker and doesn't point out the various tricks and disguises that the side show have put on to trick the rubes. He simply moves along and finds himself watching the dancers. His eyes ocassionally drifting from the preformers to the crowd to make sure somebody doesn't attempt to relieve him of his credit chits. The blue skin male seemed continet for the moment.
Luna shifts a little against the jewelry stand when Rook slips in beside her. She's treated to the backside of Luna's head, and all that warm, lovely blonde hair that spills and twists from her skull and falls around her shoulders. She's still turned towards Fyrris, head tipped curiously to the side as she speaks to him and peers at his pins.
"She races. And does cargo. She is very... ah. Cool," Luna says, and laughs.
When Rook speaks, however, Luna's attention is drawn in her direction. She turns her torso towards the woman and peers towards her. Luna's eyes are strange things. Big and hazel, they seem to shift colors with whatever light they reflect. In the ever-changing light of the circus, they just seem to swirl. Green and brown and blue and red. Pink and teal. A whole rainbow shifting in those irises.
"The race?" she asks curiously. She has been to a lot of races. Her eyes drop away from Rook's face and towards the two bracelets she holds in her hands. Her teeth lightly worry on her bottom lip.
"I go to a lot of races," she adds, avoiding eye contact with the other woman as she turns herself to face more neutrally between her and Fyrris. She peers back and forth with those big, hazel eyes as the two speak on either side of her.
"Ah, thank you. if you don't mind, I'll see what I can find in your collection." The first editions were behind glass, that was true, but they were still displayed so that the titles were visible, whether on the cover or on the spine. "I'm certain that I'll find something that will be perfect for my gift." See? She wouldn't leave the man with no trade at all. And then Tamsin was off,determined to enjoy the thrill of the hunt.
Wait, what? It takes Rook a moment to notice that meat-yielding hand pointed in her direction, but once she does, the woman's eyebrows furrow with renewed intensity. A long look is tipped toward Fyrris, openly sizing him up, before she bothers to tip a look toward the hair combs in question. The scowl softens slightly as she studies the pieces in question, before she swallows and offers a slight nod. "He's right. These are good." One of those tattooed hands extends to brush a fingertip across the edged metal. "Though I doubt your friend shares my... ah, aesthetic." She has the grace to sound wry at that.
Her attention shifts toward Luna as the girl shifts her posture, and the silver ring in her left eyebrow glints as it climbs her forehead. "Don't worry about it." Her tone is soft, pitched for Luna alone, and then her attention shifts deliberately back to the jewelry. "I need somethin' for a girl who wears... pretty shit. Like... Naboo and Tattooine kinda pretty." It's anyone's guess who she's talking to now.
"Of course, Miss," The Lanky Devronian says. Having pointed Tamsin towards the stack of first edition books, he circles back to the front of his booth where that human girl has returned to look at the book of poetry again. Her eyes dart up to him, and the Devronian clasps his hands happily in front of his legs.
"Aha! The draw of cannibalism is a potent one indeed. They say when you've tasted human flesh, you cannot eat another meat," he says.
The woman leers at him, and he waves his hand dissmisvely.
"I wouldn't know," he clarifies.
"For me? Piercings? Body ink? Not so much. My line of work it's best to be as bland as you can besides the cut of your suit." tipping Rook a wink before one of his hands is flicking a credit chit onto the counter and motioning to Rook, "For the lady." nodding to the stall tender before Luna is addressed again.
"You know, you could see if you can find one of those broad fit neck pieces, like a choker but with something that fans over the clavicle. Maybe something like a bird, grace and speed for the racing - and for how far above you place them." a genuine smile, perhaps the first Luna may have ever seen from the gambler.
"Just an idea though... Like I said, I was always good at picking out things..." brow knitting and he lifts up another tie-pin, this one in the shape of a watery female figure pouring ruby chips out of a jug, the whole affair blue-silver and a bit of bronze between woman and jar. A slow blink and he looks to the setting at the bottom of the pour, the perfect place for the glowing red gem...
Well, now there seemed to be a bit of a small crowd at the jewelry vendor. "Definitely brave..." she repeats under her breath, chuckling and shaking her head. The vendor would be quite distracted. Looking over the group though, she takes notice of Rook and raises an eyebrow as she looks her over. Letting out a small laugh, she steps closer to the group. "Got enough tattoos there?" she asks in a slightly teasing tone. Hearing the topic, she tilts her head slightly. "What's this about a race?" she asks, the topic slightly interesting her.
"I recognize you," Luna says, after a moment. Her eyes flick over towards Rook for a moment, but again, that gaze doesn't linger. She seems almost nervous or insecure. As if she doesn't quite know what to say to the other woman in this particular situation. "Your tattoos. They are very pretty. You seemed to be having a? a bad time. I hope you are better now," she adds.
"Oh! Tatooine?" Luna says, and her eyes light up.
"There is an artist they buy pieces from. I will show you," she says, and crouches low to toe-walk towards where Fyrris is standing. She seems aloof to his personal space, her shoulder brushing up against his knee and her breath fogging up the glass of the display cabinet as she points and taps on the glass.
"Her. Her. She is a former slave, and she makes this jewelry. I think it is so beautiful," Luna says, and peers up and over her shoulder to Rook.
When the man speaks his suggestion and offers a smile, he does so down to the crouching Luna who is peering up at him in turn. She seems to be considering his suggestion, and she lets out a thoughtful 'hmmmmh' as she turns her attention towards the glass.
The Jewelry Vendor has been watching the trio, and when Fyrris is lifting that tie-pin up, she lets out a laugh.
"The slave girl's work as well. She has an eye for detail. It's why I, and many others, love her pieces. It is remarkable what Sentients are capable of, mmmh?"
Leith having his fill of the dncing girls. He begins to make his way through the alleyway with the food vendors. Then at the last moment he sees his friend Tamsin and the blue man makes his way over to the good doctor. "Tamsin." He says looking at the books on display, "Never seen books for sale at a circus before. You find anything good?" He says eyeing the booth and the vendor.
With the dancers continuing their performance, another spectacle is on display nearby. A fire-breathing and sword-swallowing Togruta is... swallowing swords and breathing fire. The sword he's swallowing is long and broad -- a vibrosword that he even flips the vibro setting on before choosing to swallow. The crowd that's gathered nearby gasps as his head tips back and that blade slides seamlessly into his esophagus. A few can't quite look, worried that they might see the man keel over. At once, he coughs dramatically! The crowd takes a step back, and that gasp grows even louder. Without warning, flames erupt from his lips and mouth, and he removes that sword as if his throat were a sheath, and takes a bow!
Tamsin, who had been running her finger down along the air just in front of the glass covered display of books as she considered the titled, stopped in mid motion as she heard Leith's familiar voice. "Leith, I didn't expect to see you taking in the amusements." She turned away, pointing to one of the titles, "I think I have. It's a book of folklore purported to be from lost civilizations." She turned, lifting a hand to attempt to catch the attention of the bookseller, "Have you had anything to eat yet? I can't recall when I ate last."
Rook blinks as Fyrris distributes those chits, green eyes flickering between the man and the vendor who is packaging them up. ".. Thank you." It sounds sincere enough, and for a moment there, she's not even glaring. Her fingers curl around the combs when they're offered, and she tips Fyrris an expression that could almost be considered a smile before her attention is pulled back to Luna.
"Which two are your favorite?" The question is voiced toward the crouching woman, almost gently, as Rook's attention shifts between the jewelry cabinet and the girl herself. It's then that she seems to catch Aconaa's comment, a smirk pulling at her lips as she tips a pointed look toward the Togruta's own tattoos. "We all need hobbies, yeah?"
"I'll take it." credits handed over for the tie pin, nodding to it. "Glad she got out of slavery, not a good way to live." Standing steady, apparently having no concern of his space bubble, as it were. The Togruta's comment about Rook's tattoos - and Rook's thank you is answered with a bow of his head - not seeking to interrupt the conversation; but in an continued vouchsafing of his apparent good nature he opts not to interrupt the ladies looking at jewelry.
Expression slipping to a quiet neutrality, with the barest hint of a grin at one side of his mouth - a few more chits are placed on the counter, the Codru leaning forward to speak a little more conspiratorially to the woman running the stand.
"For her purchase, or as much of it as it covers." one hand motioning to Luna while the other is tucking the pin away. "It should be enough..." another quartet of chits come out, "That should, for certain." adjusting his lapels with one pair of hands, sipping his drink, the long torso'd man takes a step back, one spatted shoe hooking behind the other ankle in a step that forces him in a half turn as he begins to saunter on his way.
"I haven't yet." Leith answers Tamsin about food. "Do you want me to check to see if it's legit and not a fake?" The Wroonian was not an expert in books but he did know some things about forgeries. "And a stories from a lost civilization sounds great to hear."
The Lanky Devronian turns his attention back to Tamsin and Leith, his head tipping to the side after the human woman leaves, a few hundred credits lighter, but with a brand new book about cannibalism. We'll try not to consider what future serial killer may or may not just have been unleashed on the city.
"Ahhh, found something, did you?" he says, and steps up to retrieve the book from behind the glass. He gives a nod to Leith as well as he stoops low and stands with the book in hand.
"On Folklore, Stories, and Song of Civilizations Lost To Sand," he says, and clicks his tongue. "You -are- an academic, aren't you? This book itself is nearly lost to sand itself. As much a relic as the stories it's about," he says. He turns that book to face Tamsin, allowing the good Doctor to take it.
"None of my wares are fake, my friend. Feel free to inspect it at your leisure, but any damage to its pages will mean you've treated the lady to a new book," he says.
Tamsin shook her head, "I do appreciate the offer, but I am happy to make the purchase and take our good seller at his word." Tamsin, stepping back so that she was not in the bookseller's way, took the time to retrieve enough credit chits to cover the cost of the book, "It sounds terribly interesting. I'm certain it will be a wonderful gift." As she waited, credits in hand, she adjusted her bag to make room for the book once she had purchased it, "I do appreciate the service. Are you often here in the circus?"
Luna's attention is transfixed on the jewelry within the display case. Each little puff of breath outward on the glass sees a little wave of fog to briefly obscure its transparent surface. The woman behind the counter doesn't seem to mind her. In fact, judging by the way she glances down at the pretty mess of blonde hair, she seems to be almost fond of the little thing who is making a mess out of her glass display.
"You are generous," the Jewelry Merchant says to Fyrris, that leathery voice sounding almost like fingernails against velvet. Her accent is some rim world, like Luna's. They almost share some similarities, even if the short, stout alien woman's is different in tenor and tone. She takes the chits that are offered to her and thumbs them in her fat fingers.
"You may wish to tell her. Her mind wanders, you see. She comes here often to look at the jewelry, but sometimes, I think she goes somewhere else. Like now. Hmm, darling?" she asks down to Luna, whose wide eyes are transfixed on a pretty necklace on display in front of her. The Jewelry Merchant shrugs, and turns to Rook and Aconaa.
"I hope she likes your purchase, darling. And do come back if you would like to look again. I make trips daily to fetch more. And if there is something you'd like me to find, please tell me," she offers.
Luna's attention is transfixed on the jewelry within the display case. Each little puff of breath outward on the glass sees a little wave of fog to briefly obscure its transparent surface. The woman behind the counter doesn't seem to mind her. In fact, judging by the way she glances down at the pretty mess of blonde hair, she seems to be almost fond of the little thing who is making a mess out of her glass display.
"You are generous," the Jewelry Merchant says to Fyrris, that leathery voice sounding almost like fingernails against velvet. Her accent is some rim world, like Luna's. They almost share some similarities, even if the short, stout alien woman's is different in tenor and tone. She takes the chits that are offered to her and thumbs them in her fat fingers.
"You may wish to tell her. Her mind wanders, you see. She comes here often to look at the jewelry, but sometimes, I think she goes somewhere else. Like now. Hmm, darling?" she asks down to Luna, whose wide eyes are transfixed on a pretty necklace on display in front of her. The Jewelry Merchant shrugs, and turns to Rook and Aconaa.
"I hope she likes your purchase, darling. And do come back if you would like to look again. I make trips daily to fetch more. And if there is something you'd like me to find, please tell me," she offers.
"I am, Miss," the Lanky Devronian replies to Tamsin. He takes back the book from her and packages it up neatly. It's sealed in flimsiplast and then wrapped with decorative paper, before being handed over to Tamsin in exchange for her credits. "And if you have an eye for folklore, I can do my best to keep an eye out as I travel. We visit many different worlds, each with their own stories. Listen long enough, and you even start to see some similarities between them. It's a very curious thing, you know. How two different civilizations several thousand lightyears away can tell the same sort of story," he muses.
"I digress," he says, and takes the credits with a bow.
"A pleasure doing business with you," he says.
Aconaa glances toward the dancers for a moment, eying the Togruta curiously for a moment and cringing as she watches him swallow the sword. "Hobbies, huh..." She shakes her head as she turns back to Rook. "Can get behind that I suppose. Looks like you're just about out of canvas there though," she replies with a small smirk.
Leith looks down at himself and then back to the book salesman, "I am an academic for sure." Though as Tamsin was more than happy to take the salesman's word for it. Leith nods and lets the doctor finish up her business. He looks back to Tamsin, "So what looked good? I saw a booth of fizzy drink like Fizzpop but old fashion. That and various meats next to it." He slautes the salesman and moves to wonder away with Tamsin.
Tamsin passed over the credits, accepting the book in return, "That would be very much appreciated. I am more than happy to purchase something if you find it suits what I'm looking for." Once business had been concluded, Tamsin stepped away, "Lead the way. I might be inclined to try both of those." Tamsin was clearly in a fancy mood, if she was opting for the possibility of something that wasn't water, as she stepped away from the booksellers with Leith, to lead off towards the food vendors, "I am curious to see what they have in the way of the 'freak show'."
The dancers continue their performance. Their previous dance saw them perform the same maneuvers side by side, but this new musical arrangement seems a bit more sentimental and maybe a touch mournful. The choreography has shifted to suit it. They work together, instead of individually. All three bodies blend together in shifting skin and fabric. Fingers lace, legs and torsos touch. It's an intimate sort of embrace between the three women that flares out when the music crescendos. It's an almost orchestral arrangement, grandiose enough for the theater but, perhaps, a touch too good. The audience is in rapt attention, however. A good portion of them know that they are witnessing something truly special. The dance, the music, the performance, and the spectacle.
A casual, polite, wave with one hand is given for the stall runner selling jewelry as Fyrris strides away, angling his walk to put him in the peripherals of Rook while he goes, giving her a polite little wave as well while trying not to disrupt the chat she's having with Luna. A tabac-stick pulled from a silver case and tucked into the corner of his mouth before lit.
The tie-pin is moved from one pocket to one pressed up against his skin, like the gem with it - lotta pick pockets in these here parts...
Hell it's a wonder he can get at his credits with how tucked away he has everything on his person while attending the circus.
And who should join the festivities but the least festive man in likely the whole Galaxy? If it doesn't involve chasing bounties, flying way too fast, or getting blasted out of his gourd of black market stims in a space truckstop bathroom, the man usually doesn't go in for it. Perhaps he's just softening in his old age? The fact that he's fully armored means that's likely not it.
A pair of ruby lenses scan the crowd as the Corellian stalks around, his hands resting easily on his gunbelt.
<<No sight of him just yet,>> he says, lifting a hand to depress a button on the side of his helmet.
Rook doesn't miss the exchange between Fyrris and the vendor. The interaction has her looking toward Fyrris again, as unabashed as ever she watches him turn and step away. A thoughtful look, if you can sort your way past the set jaw and the coiled muscle across her back and shoulders. She pulls her attention back to the vendor as she speaks of Luna, offering a half-nod of acknowledgement. She doesn't look eager to interrupt.
"Oh, there's plenty you can't see," is finally drawled toward Aconaa, one of her dimple piercings flashing as she smirks. "I like our work." An upnod toward the Togruta's own artwork. "Done here?"
Eventually, Luna's eyes do flick up from those pretty necklaces and to the vendor above her. When she rises to her feet, she can't help but notice that the man who had been standing beside her has left. She blinks a few times, a look of visible confusion crossing her face. She tries to look and see the man, but by the time she does, he's lost to the crowd. She re-orients herself to look at Rook and Aconaa as they converse and, when the woman inevitably brings her attention back to the vendor, she's met with a warm smile and a little shrug.
"He's buying you two things. It's those eyes, I think. It's no wonder you work at Twi'lick," the Jewelry Merchant says, and taps lightly on the glass with her fingertip. She nods to Luna's own necklace -- a slender thing that hangs from a golden chain around her neck. The girl grasps it and tips her chin down to look.
"It is not my eyes that most men like," Luna says, which gets a leathery laugh from the merchant in front of her.
"I think that one," Luna says, gesturing to the piece she'd been staring at for so long. Her eyes turn to Rook for a moment, and a small smile touches her face. She then drags her fingertip towards another piece. Something similar to what Fyrris had suggested to her earlier.
"Ahhh, an excellent choice," the merchant purrs.
The next soul to enter the Circus is one with such a monstrous figure or, presence, that it causes a sort of bubble to form around him. One of space. No one truly grows too close to the towering figure of a Barabel in FormFitter powerarmor. Karr'roga's visage is that of some super-predator stuffed into super-technology, and yet, in this place with its many lights, many smells, many distractions -- yellow, slitted eyes dialate and nictitating membranes slide over...eventually shutting, while vertical slits above the 'lips' open up and the world is received purely as infravision.
The comms crackle to life, and the blood-red visor of the Formfitter armor closes over most of Karr'roga's face, save the maw full of teeth. <"Ssssss..."> What sounds like annoyance is more neutral. Heavy, metal-clad tail giving a sudden THWACK against the floor, causing some passerbys to jump and screech in fright. <"Sss-sss-ssss."> Amusement, <"He issss hidinnnnnng..."> The chest rumbles.
Leith shrugs, "Well lets go see if that's what you want to see. Most of it looks like it's down with props and make up." He says stopping to get in line at the food vendor. "What flavor you think? They got various fruit flavors and something called root beer." The man says looking at the booth. Thene he looks back to her, "So do you have any idea where the book came from?"
Aconaa glances down at herself and then shrugs. "Less a hobby, more a 'cultural norm' where I came from I guess you could say. And I don't mean Shili, though I'd rather not get into it more than that." With a small smirk, she adds, "With that much ink? Not surprised. Though I might be hiding one or two myself." She looks toward Luna briefly, eying the woman's jewelry. "Like your jewelry, huh?" The Togruta flinches slightly when she hears the newelry arrived Barabel slap the ground with his tail, causing a bit of a commotion.
"Well, yes, most of the freaks I find at places like this are actually just actors and charlatans, but call it professional curiosity," Tamsin offered as she and Leith ended up in the queue for meat on sticks. Don't ask what meat, just know if it squeaks when you bite down, send it back for a refire. "But every once in a while, Yo do find an interesting specimen." Ah doctors. What could you do? As Tamsin wound her way through the queue, the angle of her line of sight changed, and she caught sight of a Barabel with a familiar-ish figure. "I...believe we might end up with an entirely different sort of entertainment tonight, if things do sideways. See anything big enough to hide behind?"
The fire-breathing Togruta's throat erupts with a ghostly, pale blue flame as his vibroblade buzzes and hums within his esophagus. There's a sound of cheer and applause, and he pulls it roughly from between his lips and slings it into the air. It twists and it spins and it twirls before landing, tip down, and piercing several inches of duracrete. That impact is accompanied by one final eruption of blue flame from his throat. On stage, the dancers wind down their final routine. All three women stand at the front of the stage, their gold and silver outfits shifting in the ever-changing lights of the circus. They gesture first to the pit crew, and then to the crowd, before taking turns curtsying one by one. The audience claps and cheers, and the three women exit the stage. It was just one performance of the night, and soon enough, another will come behind it. That's the thing about the Lost Circus -- it never really stops. It was here before you got here, and it will be here when you've left. The fried food and the flashing lights. The sound of songs, and laughter and joy. They'll continue on even after the vendors have closed and those shopping have left. Remember, the most extraordinary thing about tonight is that it is just like every other night.
The Lost Circus is alive.
