[Thunder]

((This RP is a continuation of Captured by the Circus.))

The night after Aban impressed the Ringmaster, she was awoken in Mavra's office by a sudden rumbling.

"Wh-wha?" she spluttered, her eyelids flying open. The ground was shaking, and she could hear various medical tools clattering in the drawers. Mavra, who was asleep on a chair next to the bed, had also awaken from the quaking, and the nurse lifted her head drowsily. "Mavra, what's going on? Is this an earthquake?"

"It's fine, Aban," Mavra yawned. "The circus is just moving..."

"M-moving? What do you mean?"

"You missed the first half of the meeting yesterday. The Ringmaster said our next performance would be at Nabias. So we're heading to the Tengel Rainforest right now."

"Tengel?! But that's all the way in Barakka!"

Just a few seconds later, the shaking subsided. Aban laid there on the bed, feeling slightly nervous. "Is...is it done?"

"Yes. The Ringmaster uses his magic to transport Le Cirque du Feu from place to place. It's very quick and efficient, though it does cause tremors like this." Aban blinked. Just how powerful is this guy? she wondered. She recalled how yesterday, she had been afflicted with terrible fear just by looking into the Ringmaster's eyes...

"Go back to sleep, Aban," Mavra mewed gently. "It's all right..."

With those words, the nurse drifted back to sleep. Aban, however, was excited now. "Barakka..." she whispered to herself. "I'm closer to home now!" A thrill coursed through her heart. Her mother, Viridian, lived right outside Lamenolai. If she ever got to escape the circus, she could make her way home!

Aban grinned to herself and curled up on the bed again. Thinking about home, she fell asleep once more.

[Thunder]

Morning came, and Aban awoke to the smell of fresh fruit. She yawned and stretched her good limbs before looking over the breakfast set on her bed. There was a bowl of blueberries, some milk, and bread with butter. She then turned to greet Mavra, and to her surprise, Gartrie was in the room too.

"Good morning!" Aban greeted. "Thanks for the food. Gartrie, why are you here?"

"I came to check on you," Gartrie grunted. "I thought the moving last night might have scared you." Aban chuckled at his concern and started plopping some blueberries in her mouth.

"Sorry I worried you, but...it's a good thing we moved to Tengel!" Mavra and Gartie stared at the Treat Kuhna, confusion in their eyes.

"Why's that?" Gartrie growled.

"Because my mother lives near Lamenolai!" Aban's heart soared as she spoke the words, and a hopeful light entered Mavra's eyes. Gartrie, however, simply frowned.

"That's great and all, but you kinda have to get out of this place first," he sighed. "We've got three weeks until our next show, so we've basically got three weeks to plan an escape." Aban gritted her teeth. As much as she hated it, Gartrie had a point. "And keep it down a little. We don't want the Ringmaster to walk in again and hear us talking about escaping."

"Sorry," Aban apologized, talking more quietly. "But there has to be someone here who can help get us out... Do you know anyone like that?"

"The Jester," Mavra whispered. "He...he seems to have the power to make people happy... He was at the meeting yesterday."

Aban thought back and remembered that when the meeting concluded, she had seen a large Paragon standing in the corner of the room, with vivid colors like a jester's clothes. "You mean that dragon?"

"Yes... You should see him today at practice. I don't know if he can help you, but it's worth talking to him. He's a very gentle soul, that Jester."

"Speaking of practice, it starts in twenty minutes," Gartrie interrupted. "So you better finish your breakfast first, Aban, or else you're going to be dead tired later. Training in this circus is brutal, as you've gotten a taste of yesterday."

Aban heeded his advice and started working on her blueberries again. I'll find that Jester, she thought, and I'm going to talk to him.

[Thunder]

Aban finished up her breakfast and left the nurse's office with Gartrie, leaving Mavra behind to do her work. They steadily traversed the dark, space-twisting passages of the big top. Training for shows would take them from seven o'clock to eleven-thirty in the morning, after which they'd adjourn for a lunch break, and after one hour training would resume from twelve-thirty to six o'clock. They would eat dinner, practice for one more hour, and the day would finally be over...at least, for those who the Ringmaster thought performed well.

"I remember when I was a newbie here," Gartrie growled, "I didn't do too hot during a practice session and the ringmaster forced me to work for an additional two hours. I was damn tired by the end of it. Worst of all, he oversaw my training personally, and he has that fear-inducing power that makes us all terrified. Usually Jotsueil watches us train, or one of the few other people here close to the Ringmaster, like Cornelius."

"Who's Cornelius?" Aban questioned. "Is he as terrible as Jotsueil?" The little Kuhna remembered how Jotsueil dragged her to the Ringmaster yesterday and shuddered.

"Well not many of us like him since he's so buddy-buddy with the Ringmaster, but he's not cruel like Jotsueil can be. He can be snooty sometimes but he doesn't hurt other people on purpose. You'll probably see him today. He lost an eye in his mortal life and built himself a mechanical replacement, so you'll know who he is."

Gradually they can to a large door, surrounded on all sides by shadows. Gartrie sighed and began pushing it open. "Well, this is it Aban," he muttered. "Get ready to work and try to find that Jester."

[Thunder]

The door opened to reveal a vast space with dozens of people practicing inside. Some juggled like Aban, some played with fire, and others were doing magic tricks. Aban let out an excited gasp; even though this circus was hellish, it was neat to see other performers all in one spot; as a traveling performer, Aban usually wasn't part of any large groups.

Her excitement faded, however, when a certain Ferrikoon swooped by.

"Hey, you!" Jotsueil shrieked. "Get to work!" He was carrying several pieces of equipment and seemed pretty busy himself. In a split second Jotsueil was gone again. Gartrie rolled his eyes and led Aban to a closet full of various objects.

"Jotsueil's probably gonna pop in every so often," Gartrie grumbled. "Just to let you know." The Kirund walked up to a beat up cardboard box and lifted the lid. He removed several knives, clutching them in his tooth jaws, and shut the box back up.

"You do knife tricks?" Aban asked. Gartrie nodded.

"Pins and stuff over there," he muttered with his mouth full. He used his tail to gesture to the corner of the closet and then exited. Aban trotted over and grabbed some juggling pins in her tails- not the ignitable sort she used yesterday- and proceeded out of the closet. She looked around for Gartrie and found him flinging knives at a target; nearly every single one of his throws hit the bullseye, and Aban was thankful that such a proficient aim was on her side. Gartrie was probably used to knives since he was once a drug dealer.

The Kuhna located a spot clear of people and began juggling using only her tails. She didn't want to exert too much on her bad leg just yet. As she threw the pins, she looked around for any signs of the Jester, but she didn't see him around. Perhaps he wasn't here yet?

[Thunder]

Aban continued juggling for a while, occasionally changing the limbs she used, but she didn't use her injured leg at all. Once in a while Jotsueil would fly by again and glare at her, making sure she was training intensely enough, and whenever he did she would pull off a fancy trick to get a nod of approval. She was glad she hadn't seen the Ringmaster yet; she was worried that he'd make her throw something outrageous again like the torches.

There were some troupe members doing very interesting tricks like sword swallowing, and Aban desperately wanted to talk to them out of curiosity, but she didn't want to get yelled at for talking to others. Just at that moment, however, a large shadow cast over her and she turned around to find a dragon- not the Jester, but a huge, muscular, blue and orange creature.

"H-hi!" Aban stammered, not having expected anyone to visit her.

"Greetings," the large beast said. His voice rumbled in his throat like thunder. "Are you the little Kuhna from yesterday?"

"Yes. My name is Aban. Who are you?"

"I am Samson the strongman." Samson flexed his muscles as if to demonstrate his strength. "I have to say, I was very impressed with your performance yesterday, Aban. Few can take the Ringmaster's challenges, and when you nearly dropped the torches you recovered excellently. Practice more and perhaps you'll do perfectly the next time."

"O-oh! Thank you, erm, Mr. Samson." She was glad for the praise, but his last sentence seemed a bit too critical to be friendly. "Um, I take it you lift weights, Mr. Samson?" Aban wasn't sure why she was calling him "mister"; maybe it was because he looked middle-aged and was simply so much larger than her.

"Indeed, I do. If you'd like, I can demonstrate some of my abilities. There are some weights on the other side of this room."

"Oh, I'd like to see that!" Aban had never seen a strongman perform before. "But...won't I get in trouble if I stop working?"

"It will be fine," Samson laughed. "I will make sure you are safe." Aban decided to trust the dragon and followed him to the weights, but she took her pins with her just in case. As they walked, she could have sworn several people stared at her in dismay, and she had no idea why they'd do so.

[Thunder]

They strolled over to the dumbbells, and Aban's eyes widened as she saw the size of them. From a distance they hadn't seemed too large, but up close they were revealed to be gigantic. She gasped when she saw the mass etched into the iron- one thousand pounds.

"How will you lift these?" she asked, turning to Samson with an utterly bewildered expression. The large dragon only laughed, and his mighty shoulders shook with his laughter.

"With hard, hard work," he replied. "Watch, Aban, and see how repentance makes you stronger!"

Samson stepped up to one weight and opened his jaws wide, clamping them over the thick bar of the dumbbell. Aban was stunned when he picked it up without much problem. The muscles of his neck were bulging with effort, but he only shook slightly and kept the weight relatively still. The Kuhna glanced around to see if anyone else was watching this spectacular feat, but if there were any reactions, they were very subdued, as if everyone had seen Samson perform many times before and didn't get excited by it anymore.

Samson grunted and lowered his head to transfer the weight to one of his claws. He grasped the it firmly in his palm and brought it up and down several times, showing off his powerful arms. Finally, he moved the weight to his tail, which curled around the bar several times, and did repetitions with that limb. He went on for about five minutes before finally putting the dumbbell back.

"Wow!" Aban gasped. "That was amazing!" Samson smiled and patted Aban on the head.

"Indeed, I have toiled greatly to achieve my strength. It is not something just anyone can do. You see, little Kuhna, not only must one's body be healthy, but one's spirit must endure great hardship too."

Suddenly, Samson's smile turned into a frown.

"Aban," he continued, "you have not been brought here by your own will. Everyone else in Le Cirque du Feu arrived because they have great sins to repent for. And that is why they must work until they sweat blood. Why they must suffer. For only through suffering does one purify one's soul and strengthen. Those who cannot endure the trials of the circus are weak."

Aban began feeling very uncomfortable. Samson raised his head and looked down at her with his fiery eyes.

"I see you are uncertain about my words, Aban. It is understandable. You, who have not sinned to come here, may not understand how wretched these people were. Even your friend, Gartrie, has much to make up for. Maybe you have not sinned, but I believe the circus has trapped you for a reason. Maybe you can also become stronger...and I hope you will help lead your companions to repentance and strength too."

With that, Samson turned and walked away.

[Thunder]

Aban returned to her juggling practice. Now she had a feeling of great unease. Samson had seemed kindly at first, but his speech was so intense that it made her cringe. Even if her friends had done terrible things in their human lives, did they deserve the torture of this place where you were stuck forever, forced to work even with a broken arm, and watched over by a terrifying Ringmaster?

She was not allowed to speak to Gartrie during the rest of the practice session, but as soon as the lunch break came, he approached her. Aban was dead tired from juggling so long, though Gartrie looked fine, as if he had grown accustomed to the long hours of training. There was a scowl on the Kirund's face.

"I saw you talking to Samson," he growled. "I'd advise you to stay away from that Paragon."

"I noticed people were staring when I walked over to the dumbbells with him," Aban whispered. "I'm guessing he's not liked around here? He said some really creepy things about sin and repentance."

"He's such a hypocrite. I remember when he came here, he was just as weak and frightened as the rest of us. But now he thinks he's tougher than everyone else just because he put up with the training and got big muscles. Repentance? What a joke." Gartrie spat on the ground. "I think most of us would rather die than serve the blasted Ringmaster."

Aban fell silent. The Kirund shrugged and moved her along. "Come on," he grunted, "let's go eat."

[Thunder]

Gartrie and Aban walked out of the training area with everyone else. Even though the dark hall they entered seemed to have no walls, the troupe members packed into a nearly single file line, as if the shadows held them in place. The line slowly shuffled along, and gradually they made a turn and came upon another set of doors, which opened and let everyone flood into the dining space.

There were quite a few people in the circus, so the room was large. Yet, it still had that dismal, depressed atmosphere about it and was perhaps even more sad than the training room. Nobody talked much, and all voices were at a whisper. There were several long, rectangular tables, and already some people were eating their meals. Aban quickly glanced at someone's plate and frowned. It seemed that they didn't get much to eat, and everyone had the same dish- a glob of mashed potatoes, some peas, one slice of bread, some water. To the side of the room, there was a line of circus members holding plates with a chef monotonously dumping food onto each plate. Next to the chef was a door, and judging by the smell, it led to the kitchen.

Gartrie and Aban grabbed some clean plates and utensils that were piled on the end of one table and lined up for the food. When it was Aban's turn, she sighed at the paltry meal and made her way to an empty seat, with Gartrie following after.

"It's not much," she mumbled, " but I guess it will have to do..."

"Yeah, don't expect much food around here," Gartrie growled. "Eat every last bite. You'll need it."

[Thunder]

Aban settled down next to Gartrie, grabbed her bread, and bit down on it. It wasn't the softest of loaves, and it seemed a bit stale. She tried some of the mashed potatoes next, and they were just as mediocre, but at least they were still a little warm. The peas tasted like any old peas, with nothing special to them.

Before she got too far into her meal, though, someone sitting at the other side of the table spoke up quietly. "Hey...aren't you...Aban or something?"

Aban, startled, glanced up to see a beautiful Magistrey and a black Serraptor with rather colorful stripes and feathers. It seemed that the Serraptor was the one who addressed her since he was looking at her intently, while the Magistrey's eyes only flickered to her for a moment before returning to the meal.

"Um, yes," Aban replied. "Who are you?"

"I'm Martin," the Serraptor answered. "I'm an acrobat here. I just wanted to say..." He quickly surveyed the room, as if watching for spies, before leaning closer to the Kuhna and whispering. "I thought your juggling the other day was awesome. It's not often that someone stands up to the Ringmaster so well."

"You know," the Magistrey suddenly spoke up, "you probably shouldn't be saying such things in the mess hall, Martin." She didn't take her eyes off of the mashed potatoes that she was scooping into her beak. "You got in trouble before. Why risk it again?"

"Ladonna," Martin chuckled, "you know I love defying that guy and his cronies." Ladonna only rolled her eyes.

[Thunder]

"Looks like you've got yourself a bit of fame," Gartie commented, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I...I know lots of people were watching me," Aban stammered, "but I didn't think I'd get this much attention!"

"Well your act was certainly attention-worthy," the Magistrey named Ladonna chuckled. "As Martin said, few have ever withstood the Ringmaster's challenges. You should feel honored." She scooped some more potatoes in her mouth and then cleared her throat. "Sorry, I should probably introduce myself first. I'm Ladonna, the magician in the troupe. I have been in the circus for quite a while, now."

"It's nice to meet you both," Aban said. "Um...if it's not too much to pry into, how did you get into the circus?"

"I was a bum," Martin laughed. "Ignored all my responsibilities. I'm not lazy anymore, though, since you can't wait for the last second to make a jump in acrobatics. And Ladonna..."

"I was very...lustful," the Magistrey finished, giving Aban a sly wink. The Kuhna blushed slightly at this information. "For both power, and love. Sometimes I look back now and see how foolish it all was. But I still use my looks to draw in anyone who watches my magic show, and though I...hate to say it, the Ringmaster loves it too."

"Hey, who's talking about defiance now?" Martin growled and pouted at Ladonna.

"It's not a secret, really," the magician sighed. "Even the Ringmaster doesn't have all the time in the world to go around and keep us all tied down. One just has to be cautious about what one says, and where."

[Thunder]

"What do you mean, 'you all'?" Aban whispered in surprise. "Is there some kind of group, or...?"

"Informally," Gartrie grunted. "There's no meetings or anything. At the most we have some 'spiritual' leaders. But again, don't talk about it. The walls have ears here." He nudged the Kuhna to remind her of the secretiveness.

"Well, who are they, then?"

Martin grinned and pointed over Aban's shoulder. "Well, one of them is walking over right now." Aban quickly looked behind her to see who it was.

The person in question was a rather skinny, oddly colored Matches, who was making his way towards the table. He smiled at the group and sat down on Aban's other side.

"Were you talking about me?" he asked.

"Yes, Wilson," Ladonna answered. "About the position you seem to have among us."

"Ahh, yes, that," Wilson sighed. "Things were a lot more fiery back then, but now the troupe members seem to have lost hope." He shook his head sadly. "And if there's no hope, there can be no action."

"But what if there is hope?" Aban interrupted. "Oh, um, sorry, my name is Aban. It's good to meet you, Wilson."

"Oh, you're the dear little Kuhna from yesterday, aren't you? You put on quite a show, there." The Matches brightened up slightly. "It's good to meet you too, Aban, but what sort of hope might you be talking about?"

"The Jester."

[Thunder]

"Ahhh." The word was sighed all around the table. Whatever the Jester was like, he was obviously revered among the troupe.

"Well, the Jester is certainly a kind soul," Wilson said. "God knows how he ended up in a miserable place like this. He does appear to be quite special, but how do you think he could help us, well..." The Matches glanced around and then whispered into Aban's ear. "...escape?"

"You haven't even found the guy yet," Gartrie muttered. "Has anyone seen him lately?"

"I must say that I have not," Ladonna replied.

"Nor have I," Martin added, shaking his head sadly. Aban frowned and gazed around the dining hall, as if the Jester would show up at any moment.

"Where could he be, then?" she asked.

"It's possible that he's 'feeding' that monster, Xyzel," Ladonna murmured. "Or at least, being forced to feed it anyways. Xyzel lives off of feelings of happiness, and the Jester seems to be able to create happiness easily, so the Ringmaster often makes them sit together. If that's the case, the Jester might show up later. You'll just have to keep looking, I'm afraid."

[Thunder]

Aban was disappointed to hear this, but there was nothing to be done. So she finished up her bread, started on her peas, and turned to Wilson. "What do you do here anyways, Wilson?" she asked. "I don't think I asked."

"Oh, I'm in charge of all the costumes!" the bird replied, smiling at her. He took a small bit of his bread, and Aban noticed that he hadn't eaten much at all. Upon further inspection, the Matches did seem a bit too skinny for his own good. "It's the same line of work I did in life. I sew everything by hand. It can be tedious, and the Ringmaster forces me to do it, but I tell myself that I can bring out each individual's beauty with my costumes. And that makes everything more bearable."

"They must all be pretty," Aban mused.

"They really are," Gartrie agreed. "I doubt you've seen many yet, though."

"Wilson actually made the Ringmaster's clothes," Ladonna added, "but when they're sitting on a man like that, can they really be called beautiful?"

"Tch," Martin spat, "he could never look good in anything. His heart is too foul." Ladonna shushed the Serraptor.

"A little quieter please, Martin. We don't want to get anyone here in trouble."

[Thunder]

In fear of being overheard, the group decided to move away from the subject of defying the Ringmaster for the time being and simply enjoyed their meal. Even though the food was average and the sense of danger was ever present, Aban managed to feel relaxed as she ate. No matter what these people were like in their past lives, they were her allies here, and that knowledge gave her much comfort. She'd have to continue interacting with them.

When meal time was finally over, Aban bid farewell to her new companions and left the dining hall with Gartrie to return to the practice area. "They sure were nice," she murmured. "I hope I'll see them around again soon."

"We can sit with them every day, if you want," Gartrie said. "I don't mind. They are a very good lot, although Ladonna was quite the wicked woman in her life, from what she's told us." He chuckled, and Aban had to smile.

[Thunder]

When they reentered the training area, Aban and Gartrie's attentions were drawn to a commotion near the entrance of the room. Jotsueil was arguing fiercely with an equally aggravated brown Lucain, and the Ferrikoon was so loud that it was hard not to notice them.

"Why would I ever want to sabotage your supply of...of...whatever it is?!" Jotsueil growled. "The Ringmaster would skin me!"

"You're known to be a troublemaker," the Lucain huffed. "I wouldn't be surprised if it had been you. You know that I need those lightbulbs for our next show!"

"Oh, lord," Gartrie muttered, rolling his eyes at the two.

"What's going on?" Aban whispered to the Kirund.

"The fruit of one of Martin's mischievous schemes, it seems. A while back he was telling me of how he planned to steal Cornelius's lightbulbs, and it looks like Jotsueil's getting bashed for it instead. Cornelius is the Lucain, by the way. He's the guy I was talking about earlier. Sometimes they call him Mr. Mech, too."