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1x1 > cнεүεηηε & Aηgєℓєηα {Cirque de Fantome}

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Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments Here we are! I'll have my character up in just a bit! ^.^


Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments Okay, that's fine. I think I have a character made for this somewhere, so I just need to do some editing and then I'll have her up. :)


Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments

description

"Ɯє ωєяє вσtн ѕtяαηgєяѕ, вυt нє ωαѕ ѕtяαηgєя tнαη мє, ωнιcн ωαѕ υηυѕυαℓ..."

{~Ɲαмє~}
Annalore Mae Fairbanks
|Nickname| Lore, Lory

{~Agє~} 19
|DOB| February 3, 1872

{~Ɲαтισηαlιtу~} English

{~Aρρєαяαηcє~}
description
|Height| 5'5"
|Weight| 110 lbs
|Eye Colour| Stormy gray
|Hair Colour| Red. Very red.

{~Occυραtιση~} Student

{~Ƥєяѕσηαlιtу~}
~ Intelligent ~ Resourceful ~ Refined ~ Proud ~ Stubborn ~ Bookish ~ Curious ~ Logical ~ Uppity ~ Reserved ~ Naive ~ Sheltered ~

{~Hιѕtσяу~}
Born in the painstakingly average English town of Sendelwick, the only adventure Annalore Mae ever experienced was through works of literature. Her family was very wealthy, though it consisted of only her and her distant father. Edgar Fairbanks, an esteemed politician, never had much time for his daughter and gave her nice, pretty things rather than real love and adoration. According to her father, her mother died during childbirth, though there are no records of the event. Throughout her childhood, the position of matron to Lore was filled by her nurse, an older woman who loved her like a mother should. But Annalore was always striving for her father's affection and approval, always working hard in her lessons and behaving as a lady should even when she was no more than a child. Alas, Edgar paid little attention to his daughter, always off on his business trips into London. Fortunately, something good did come out of her constant pining for her father's love. She developed a love of learning. Unfortunately, society is no fan of women pursuing such scholarly endeavors. But she did manage to convince her father to let her leave for finishing school in London when she turned eighteen, where while she mainly learned etiquette and arts, Lore also picked up a job as an apprentice at a library, where she was able to take extra lessons from scholars who didn't mind her gender. After having been gone for a year, Lore has finally returned home to Sendelwick, her short adventures over for the time being. Now, she faces a whole new sort of challenge. Her father, of course, plans to marry her off before the year is out, a fact that she has not yet come to terms with.

{~Rєlαtισηѕ~}
Edgar Viceroy Fairbanks ~ father
Hattie Louise Pluit ~ best friend
Bennett Nathaniel Preston ~ acquaintance and favored suitor



Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments Alright, awesome!
I can go ahead and start if you want and then you can reply/add to him when you get home?


message 5: by Aηgєℓєηα (last edited Nov 25, 2015 01:54PM) (new)

Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments
There wasn’t a soul in the small town of Sendelwick, England that wasn’t eagerly anticipating the stroke of midnight. Though the air was chill and the night was dark and eerie, a large crowd had gathered in the fields just out of the city limits, braving the whispering wind and eagerly checking pocket watches every few minutes. 11: 54; A mere six minutes until the circus was to open it’s black iron gates. The whole thing, of course, seemed a bit preposterous to Annalore Mae Fairbanks, who stood near the middle of the “line” that had formed, worrying her lip and fidgeting with her red curls. Blasted pins never keep hold… However, her rebellious hair was the least of her concerns this night. Here she was, alone in the middle of a crowd without her father’s permission to be there. She hadn’t meant to disobey her father… She just had left the manor without letting him know where she was off too. That was all. But Lore knew her father would not at all approve of her little adventure out to the countryside. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure she approved either. As she beheld the faces of the townsfolk she had known her whole life, she knew many of them believed as she did. In such an uptight, morally strict town, a circus shouldn’t be welcome at all. Performers in little clothing and wild, imported animals… Nonsense!

But as her gaze wondered forward and up, to the sign curved in the dark iron gating, she felt that strange, unexplainable pull in her chest. The words drew her in like a magnetic field. Le Cirque de Fantome. The circus of ghosts? An involuntary chill ran down her spine. Or maybe that was just the wind, breathing secrets into her bone in a language she couldn’t comprehend.

As she watched the sign, suddenly everything changed.

As if a switch had been flipped, the circus came to life, going from rundown and deserted to a place of magic and wonder in a mere instant. Electricity buzzed through the air as one by one, circular lights came on to surround the ticket booth with a white glow. The same lights seemed to exist all throughout the circus, for Lory could see the same white aura when she craned her neck to see over the spectators in front of her and beyond the black gates. The black-and-white striped tents seemed to breathe and soft, entrancing music sang through the air.

And then came the voice.

“Welcome one and all to Le Cirque de Fantome. Come. Join us in the realm between dreams and conscious thought, between living and dead, between this world and the next.” The crowd, whose awed gasps and shouts of delight had previously drowned out the sounds of the circus, fell silent. There was a man behind the ticket counter who had not been there moments ago and his presence demanded absolutely quiet. Annalore, a young lady of science and logic, found herself mesmerized by the sight just as all the simpletons were. The man at the ticket booth was…quite the sight, after all, or perhaps barely a sight at all. Something so easily overlooked that it demanded your absolute attention. He wore black, tight-fitting clothes that were covered in silver buttons. Everywhere. The buttons covered the ensemble with no purpose other than to look peculiar, in all different shapes and sizes and shining like tiny beacons. His hair was the same silver color, falling to his shoulders. Not gray. Silver. The most shocking thing about him, however, was his voice. One would expect a ticket salesman to have a booming, commanding voice, with an charismatic personality to draw people in. But this lanky, bored looking man spoke so quietly that people had to lean in to hear him. His voice was raspy and harsh and his dark eyes lit up almost dangerously. But these techniques, it seemed, were working perfectly. No one dared look away as he began to hand out tickets and the line moved forward. One by one, the townspeople entered the circus of ghosts.

Lore, reluctant to step forward, ended up letting everyone pass her in line until all that remained outside the open gates of the circus were her and ticket man. “J - just one please.” She said quietly.

A small smile spread across the man’s lips, an unsettling, all-knowing smile. “Aren’t you lucky, miss? Last ticket we got.” With a flourish of his hand, a scrap of colored paper appeared and he offered it to her as she handed him the admission fee. How very strange that they should know just how many people would be in attendance. “Thank you, sir.” Annalore ducked her head, turning to enter a place of dreams and nightmares.

“Enjoy the show.”

She did not turn around to acknowledge his words, as if afraid that upon turning to face him she would discover that he was no longer there, that the circus of ghosts had it’s name for a reason.

Annalore soon found herself swept up in the curious whirlwind of lights and music and the smell of cotton candy. It truly did feel like a dream. The circus was a ring of large tents, it seemed, and in the center of it all was a burning fire to light the night. Outside the tents were vendors shouting their wares and performers standing on boxes, bending with remarkable flexibility or breathing fire into the night air. Feeling dizzy with it all, Lore slipped into the first tent she came across, not stopping to read the wooden sign before she entered. If she had known before that she would be stumbling across the magician's tent and his show, she most certainly would have turned around.



Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments ((Just setting it up! It doesn't need to be that detailed all the time ;) ))


Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments ((Oh, it really doesn't matter to me! My starters are usually much longer than my normal posts. And that's cool -- I'm kind of ghosting anyway because I'm on my phone :/ ))


Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments ((Um, like magic + science??? Like, he can do real magic but that power only comes with an advanced understanding of the universe and stuff, so it kind of fits in with the whole time/space travel thing? And yeah, I saw his bio! I really, really love that he's Irish, by the way. ^.^))


message 9: by Aηgєℓєηα (last edited Nov 26, 2015 10:51AM) (new)

Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments
((Lol, your secret is safe with me. xD Happy thanksgiving, by the way!!!))

When Annalore was a little girl, her father had taken her to the opera and, due to his influence and wealth, they were invited backstage before the show. Lore had wondered off, finding herself in an old, abandoned prop and costume room. It wasn't the scent of dust and perfume or the brightly colored fabrics that she recalled now, but rather than the music box she had spotted on a shelf cluttered with little objects. It had been open when she arrived, as if the little dancing figure inside had been expecting her. The music and the spinning ballerina had entranced her seven year-old mind. And now, twelve years later, she felt the same childlike sense of wonder as she beheld what lay inside the tent. Her head spun as her eyes fell upon the makeshift stage at the opposite end of the tent, the rich velvety curtains, the rows of metal chairs before. Each one held a spectator, and they applauded in anticipation when an illusionist stepped onto the stage.

Lore fell silently into an empty chair in the back row, the nearest one to her. And she could do little more than stare up at the man who fancied himself magic. Ridiculous... But if it was so ridiculous, why couldn't she look away, why was she just as awe-struck as the rest of the audience as they witnessed ash become animal, animal become colored paper. There was a chorus of applause for the man, but Lore didn't join in the clapping. If she moved at all, she might faint from the most bizarre case of nausea. In her mind, it was practically a fact; something was off about this place. Something was entrancing and mesmerizing and...off.

In her trance, Lore couldn't stop herself from reaching out to let a piece of red confetti fall into her palm. It scolded her hand, making her retract it sharply as though it had been lit aflame. Lore examined her hand. No burns...

Something was off.

"Ms. Fairbanks? What a pleasant surprise to see you here." Lore whirled in her chair at the sound of the voice, finding that the man it belonged to, the man she had consequentially sat beside, was none other than Bennett Preston. Mr. Preston was a handsome young fellow and, being only four years her senior, was a good candidate for husband in her father's mind. Bennett's father worked on Edgar Fairbank's advisory bored and, Lore, unfortunately, spent far too much time around him because of that fact. It wasn't that he was unattractive or unkind... Just that he was terribly droll, painstakingly normal.

"Good evening, Mr. Preston. I... didn't expect to see you here." She replied, matching his whisper so they didn't disrupt the show.

"Likewise..." Awkward, uncomfortable silence consumed them for several moments before he spoke again. "That trick sure was something, hm?"

Lore raised her eyebrow, her eyes wondering to land briefly on the performer. At least Bennett had been able to snap her out of whatever silly sort of trance she had been it. "Nothing more than a trick of the lighting." She smirked.

"Oh..." Bennett seemed at a loss for words and guilt leeched at her insides. She hadn't meant to be rude...but it had come out that way, hadn't it?

"It is very nice to see you again, Mr. Preston." Annalore forced softness into her tone, attempting to make amends. "I - I was so sorry to hear that you had a meeting this morning and couldn't meet me at the train station..." Okay, maybe that wasn't exactly the truth, but...

Bennett smiled down at her, staring into her eyes in a way that made her squirm. Now she felt as though she might faint for a completely different reason. "Annalore..." His voice was quiet, sending shivers down her spine like needle points. He took her gloved hand in his own and Lore swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. "I - I know a lot of things can change in a year, but I still...think very fondly of you. We're both adults now, Lore, and I know your father has been pestering you about..."

Unfortunately for dear Mr. Preston, Lore's gaze had shifted to the magician again in an attempt to avoid her proposer's eyes. And that trance had overtaken her once more. Bennett's voice became no more than background noise to the sound of faraway music and her own heartbeat.

Something was off.



Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments
A tiger... Lore, along with all the other spectators, stared in horror at the beast before them. She had never seen such wild animals in person, though she had seen their pelts hanging on Mr. Gibbon's wall, who liked to hunt wild game in Africa. But Lore knew they were dangerous -- knew from both her stories and from the way the crowd reacted, and from... that ravenous look in it's eyes. An antsy feeling crawled up her skin as she saw the creature lean back on it's haunches, preparing to pounce forward. Isn't someone going to do something?! Annalore took steadying breaths, reminding herself that it was all part of a trick, an illusion, and that the performer was in no real danger.

No, none of this was real.

The tiger leaped and then transformed before their very eyes, making Lore gasp like the rest of the audience. She mentally scorned herself; as a lady of science, she shouldn't be amused by these parlor tricks... And she shouldn't have felt that sense of relief when the apparent danger was removed from the scene.

"Blimey! How did he...?" Bennett's shock turned into surprised, amazed chuckles. Lore raised an eyebrow at him, wondering how anyone in the audience could be comfortable with what was happening here. It seemed you could be the biggest swindler in the world, but as long as you know had smoke and mirrors at your disposal no one would question you. "He certainly is a performer." Bennett muttered under her breath, quieter now so as to not be overheard by the magician. She couldn't help but agree. Then, as Lore contemplated what little she had read about illusionists and their deception, Bennett startled her by placing his hand gently over her own, making her tense up. She did not more away for fear of being rude... In fact, she didn't react at all.

And that was when the magician strolled up to her. Lore looked up in surprise when the man was suddenly in the isle way beside her, cutting off Bennett's attempt at speech. She blinked, not quite comprehending what he was asking at first, as she had not been listening to his request from the stage. Lore felt Bennett's hand tighten over her own protectively, as though trying to communicate to her that she could refuse if she wished to.

Blinking once more, Lore spoke before she even realized the words had met her tongue. "I can't rightfully be called a volunteer if you have to ask." She spoke quietly, so that only those nearest could hear her. It wasn't an unnatural response for her, though, as Annalore grasped onto her wit and her logic when faced with uncertainty, mocked that which terrified her. But she would comply to this man's wishes -- but, of course, only doing so because she would hate to ruin his show.

And then, feeling that same sort of entrancement, Annalore hesitated only a moment before she placed her hand in the magician's.

An unnatural heat coursed through her -- a fire in her veins, as fire was thing she could compare it to.

And a moment later, the feeling had vanished entirely.

Lore didn't remember standing, but suddenly she was. She bowed her head politely to the magician in consent, dipping slightly at the waist so that her skirts brushed the ground. Only when she felt the eyes of the audience on her did she remember that she wasn't supposed to be here, did she realize that word would certainly get back to her father of where she was tonight...



Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments ((Totally fine! ^.^ ))

"Miss Fairbanks." Lore filled in for the magician, as it wasn't at all proper for her to give her first name to a stranger as he had done. She wouldn't have minded breaking that rule of society if they weren't being watched by spectators, if her neighbors of Sendelwick wouldn't hop onto that little scandal and run with it all the way to her father's manor. Besides, Lore was raised to follow the rules of society, which was partially why she was so uncomfortable with the circus. Like all the other inhabitants of Sendelwick, she viewed what was different as scandalous, what was improper as wrong.

But unlike the inhabitants of Sendelwick, there was a part of Lore that was entranced by it.

She allowed the magician -- Ezra -- to lead her down the isle of the dark tent, between the rows of black chairs filled with familiar faces and too the stage. As she felt their stares on her, Lore was reminded of the public stonings she had learned about in boarding school. She felt as though she were walking to her own execution.

Keep your wits about you, Lore! Don't lose your head over this nonsense... Lore had to keep reminding herself, had to keep thinking silly faraway thoughts to keep her out of the present. Because this strange world of shadows and magic and trickery kept drawing her in, kept making her forget things -- oh, how Lore felt as though she were forgetting everything! As Ezra helped her ascend to the stage, she was struck with the knowledge that she no longer remembered who she had been sitting with moments ago...

"I only hope there isn't a tiger waiting for me in there." Annalore muttered sarcastically under her breath, the comment meant for her ears only.

She swallowed thickly as she surveyed the crowd before her, finding that she was...quite dizzy. All the faces seemed to blur together under the lights of the stage and her nauseated watch. She gave a small smile, trying to appear normal and composed as she waited for Ezra's instructions. Why was her head spinning so? Why was... why did she feel a ringing in her ears? It was almost like a low song, a lovely little melody calling to her from somewhere...

A conman, a swindler... Not magic. None of this was...real.

In fact, in that moment, Lore could have convinced herself that she was stuck in a dream, separated from the rest of the world and placed somewhere else entirely when she had stepped on the stage. She was close to something, toeing a line between worlds, and she couldn't get over the feeling of unnaturalness that coursed through her.



Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments
"Um, of course." Lore struggled, staring at the nondescript box he gestured to. She was overcome with that strange sense of nausea again as she stared at it, accompanied by that pull she could not explain. She hesitated a moment more, staring at the black box... and then her feet moved without permission. She walked towards it as though something else had taken control of her movements. Lore was no longer in control.

She stepped into the box.

Annalore could hear more polite applause as the magician closed her into the thing. Then, for a moment there was only darkness....

And then there was falling.

Lore gasped, feeling the bottom of the box fall away, feeling that the darkness before her was eternal. She reached out, meaning to grab onto the door or at least find a wall to assure her that one was there. But her hand found nothing but empty air. The overflowing skirts of her dress billowed out as she fell and fell and fell...

A coldness crept up her skin. She screamed but no sound escaped her. This... this was what nothing felt like. She had been thrown into the darkness between the stars, tossed into an abyss that she could not escape. Oh God, she couldn't - she couldn't breathe!

Lore slammed into what seemed to be solid ground. She scrambled to her feet, finding that her dress had been ripped and her hair had been unbound during the fall. "H - hello?" She called out, brushing herself off. Darkness greeted her here, too... And then a faint light, a tiny twinkle in the distance. A candle? "Hello? Is someone there?"

And then there were thousands of little twinkling lights surrounding her, stretching out forever and ever.

Stars.

Lore began to run, frantically searching for a way out and a way to make sense of all this nonsense. And then, as she stumbled forward, the scene was leeched away from her and she fell through a doorway.

Applause erupted from the audience as Lore stumbled out of the box, marking the end of whatever trick the magician had performed. She looked around, startled, dizzy, finding that everything was just as it was. Even her appearance was as it had been before she stepped inside the box... And the audience acted as if they had just seen some marvelous trick, as if she had just stepped through the other end of the box to create the illusion of disappearing...

But that wasn't what happened. Annalore had actually left, had gone somewhere else entirely, somewhere unearthly and -

Her eyes darted to Ezra, staring at him in bewilderment as he sputtered off about something or other, waiting for an explanation or something.

Something...something had happened to Lore. She was sure of it.



Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments
"That was marvelous! You must tell me, Miss Fairbanks, where were you hiding in that thing?" Bennett began speaking before Annalore had even sat down, before she had regained her entire mind. Little portions of thought swam their way back to her, but they kept swimming, turning 'round and 'round until she was dizzy. She stared onward, watching as that black box was carried away, watching as the magician continued on with his show as though her world hadn't just been altered. "Miss Fairbanks, are you alright? Annalore." Bennett's brow furrowed in worry, his eyes lost that edge they had had as they spoke of the magician. He grasped Lore's elbow.

She waved away his concern distractedly. "I - I'm fine, Bennett. Just a little lightheaded... Touch of stage fright." She made up the first excuse that came to mind, though the stares and bright lights had been the least of her concerns while she was on stage.

For the rest of the performance, Lore existed somewhere outside herself, watching but not really participating. She studied the magician, her keen eyes catching the small signs of weariness that other spectators would not have picked up on. The way his lids lowered, the twitch in his hand as though he were jostling himself to stay focused... Annalore also watched the other volunteers. After the illusions concluded, she studied their expressions, trying to see if someone, anyone understood what she had felt!

... Perhaps she had gone mad.

The music of the circus did seem rather loud in her ears, as though her senses had gone haywire. The lights flashed either too dimly or far too bright. At one point, she stopped hearing Bennett and Ezra entirely. At one point, she felt as though she were moving in slow motion...

Lore blinked.

Suddenly, she was being lifted into the air. The entire tent was going up, up, up. She was one of the audience members who initially squealed in surprise, who clutched the seat of her chair for dear life. Heights... Lore had never been a fan of heights.

Lore heard Bennett exclaim something beside her, also clasping onto his chair, but her eyes had darted to Ezra. She caught a waver of his hand, the faltering of his expression...

And then they spun.

Around and around and around, they spun. Several of the guests screamed, some in delight and some in terror, as they gained momentum. Lore... Well, she felt as though she might hurl. She stared down at the stage, her gaze never faltering as they twirled and twirled --

Again, everything slowed for her. She knew they were turning over quickly, but it felt as though each revolution took an eternity.

It was only when the tent and the audience fell gently to the ground that Annalore snapped back into whatever constituted for reality here. People were applauding wildly. The magician disappeared behind a curtain.

The show had reached its conclusion.

"That was spectacular!" Bennett exclaimed, rising to his feet and extended a hand to Lore to help her up. She caught the slight edge to his voice, the forced cheerfulness that revealed he did not want to admit what a marvel the performance had been. Then, remembering, "Are you feeling alright?" Lore laced her arm through his as he led her forward, moving with the current of the circus goers out into the open middle area between the tents. There were so many people here, all talking at once about this and that and -- "Lore?"

"Actually." Lore stopped quite suddenly. "I'm not feeling well. But I think I saw Doctor Thewes nearby."

"Oh? Where was he? I can escort you -- "

Lore was quick to object. "No." An awkward pause as she scrambled for an excuse. "I wouldn't want you to miss out on the shows, and I'll only be a moment."

"Miss Fairbanks, are you certain - ?"

"I'll try to find you later... that is, assuming you wouldn't mind escorting me home?" Lore was nothing if not clever. And it was too late for Bennett to protest now, as she was already walking away. "It was nice seeing you, Bennett." He murmured his quick agreement before being forced forward with the crowd. Lore had been walking towards the trapeze tent, but she veered once Bennett was out of sight, maneuvering her way opposite the crowds...

Back towards the magician's tent.

Her head was still spinning as she stepped inside, the tent opening falling closed around her. And the performance area was...empty. Empty save for rows of metal chairs, a barren stage, and a paper bag littering the ground that might have once contained a child's snack.

Lore stepped back, exiting the tent in one quick, fluid movement.

What was she thinking?

She stared at the tent opening, unsure of how to proceed. What was she planning on doing? Talking to that man? Finding that box and seeing if there were stars within? It sounding like madness! And it was entirely improper for her to be here, alone.

But she felt that pull again.

And Lore needed to know.

So, she stepped within the tent once more. "H - hello?" She called out. She could hear no stage hands behind the curtains, saw no signs of people milling about. In fact... the place looked oddly deserted, as if everyone within had been just another illusion. Lore proceeded slowly, looking around uncertainly before stepping onto the stage. "Is anyone there?" And then, with slightly trembling fingers, Lore pulled back the curtain, stepped through it and into what lay beyond.

There were boxes, props, racks of dusty costumes and cages of flightly doves. It was dark here, the only illumination coming from the gaslights on the other side of the curtain and a sliver of light coming from a crack in the doorway at the far end. A door... Was the magician within? Was that where he rested between performances? Lore felt the cold hand of fear grip over her throat. She didn't mean to alert him of her presence. If she could just...just see the box and be on her way...

Wait, a door? What was a door doing back here any way? Now that Lore looked about, she realized it no longer looked like she was in a tent. No, this looked like a solid structure, a building that could easily be a theatre or opera house... But that couldn't be! All of this stuff shouldn't have even fit in here and --

There it was.

Lore's thoughts were cut off suddenly when she found herself staring at the large black box. It was behind a rack of costumes, shoved aside as though it were nothing.

But she felt that otherworldly pull. Forgetting all about the magician and the illogical architecture and the young man that waited for her somewhere within the circus, Lore stepped forward, moving closer and closer as though called on by some fiery beacon. Pulled forward and forward and forward --

Until she reached for the handle of the box's door.



Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments ((I know! I didn't mean for it to be and then it just...go out of hand. xD Yeah, kind of. Just... idk, my idea was that maybe he has some sort of magic in him, but he's able to use it because he can understand like, what's around him? Like, he knows how air works and he can kind of feel it's energies? so he can control them??? I have no idea if that made any sense at all, but it's however you want to do it. xD ))


Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments
((Thanks! I like your writing style a lot, too. ^.^ ))

Lore dropped her hand quickly, making the door slam itself closed as she whirled around, finding herself face to face with the magician. His harsh words immediately had her scrambling for excuses, stumbling back until her back hit the black box. "I - I didn't mean to intrude, Mr. ... Uh..." She didn't know his last name. "I'm so dearly sorry, sir. I - " Dear God, she could fel her cheeks burning and cooling at the same time. Had she ever been this mortified?

Eyes darting to and fro, Lore found that there were no stagehands or wondering circus goers around, that they were alone. Which was entirely inappropriate, mind you, and did wonders to add to the scarlet spreading through her cheeks, nearly matching that of her hair. Her only wish was that the dim lighting was enough to conceal her embarrassment.

The magician watched her patiently, waiting for a response to his blunt question. And she could feel that strange, unearthly pull again. There was a reason she had come, a something she had sought.

Answers.

Gathering her courage, Lore straightened, brushing invisible dust from her skirts in a manner that could be described as nothing less than aristocratic. She was a lady of high birth, after all. Educated, refined, ladylike... She could handle a proper conversation with this swindler, could preserve what little was left of her dignity.

"Pardon me for the, uh, interruption, sir, but I had a few inquiries about your magic show." She began, a haughty sort of air about her as she spoke. Lore wasn't arrogant, per say, just a bit... Pedantic. She was clever, and what was the use of being clever if no one realized your brilliance? Unfortunately for her, it was hard for her to be taken seriously when she grew flustered, as she looked no more collected then a child. "If you would kindly step outside with me for a moment and we could, uh, discuss some of the details of your act..." Because it was entirely inappropriate to speak here. Alone. With a stranger. "I don't mean to steak your secrets, of course!" She added hastily.

Oh dear, was she rambling?

This. This as why she couldn't be taken seriously. Lore scolded herself internally, trying to pull herself together, trying to think of excuses for the illusion. All she needed was a solid, scientific explanation and then she could be on her way, and then the world would be right again. Because there was absolutely no such thing as.... As....

"Magic."

The word escaped her as a whisper and she found a chill suddenly entered the air. Dizzy... So, so dizzy...



Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments
He was smiling. Lore paused, caught off guard by the expression pressed into his features. Was he mocking her? He gave her his last name -- an Irish name to match the accent in his voice -- but Lore was still caught off guard by that amusement in his eyes. She bristled slightly, aggravated but keeping the emotion to herself. If Mr. O'Cutter found some sort of amusement in her actions and her speech, he wasn't forwardly mocking her, so she would maintain the civilities. Even if she wished to demand to know what was so humorous about this situation...

Her aggravation, however, was soon forgotten when he refused her. "Excuse me?" Lore's voice was colored with disbelief. A fair eyebrow was raised in incredulity. He refused to step outside with her in order to speak? Or was this his way of refusing the conversation in general? He gave her an excuse then, one which part of her understood but the other part declined to hear his reason. "But, sir -- " She tried in vain. The man was already turning from her, walking back to whatever that room was he had been in previously.

Annalore couldn't just speak with him here, beyond the watching eyes of a guardian. That wasn't acceptable in the least, and if anyone discovered she had been alone with some circus conman... Oh, how the rumors would fly! Circuses were scandalous enough, with the risque costumes and acts of magic that went against the church. And after being made a volunteer for his show, certainly a towns-person would get word to her father that she had been here tonight.

"Sir, wait -- Mr. O'Cutter!" Annalore hastily sputtered, surging forward to stop him without thought. Answers. She had come for answers and she would not -- could not -- leave without them. How could she return to the mundane world now that she had tasted something of another one? How could she leave without understanding these great mysteries?

Unfortunately, in her haste, Lore had disregarded the skirts of her dress. She tripped over them, falling forward into Ezra as soon as her hand reached for his arm to stop him. She let out a squeal of surprise, clutching at him in order to catch herself.

And the moment she grasped his arm, a strange sense of dizziness coursed through her, accompanied by an odd tingling. The air in the room seemed to buzz with electricity, whisper words to her that she couldn't comprehend.

The room spun 'round and 'round and 'round.

And then Lore fainted into the magician's arms.



Aηgєℓєηα  | 2762 comments
When Lore woke on a strange couch in a foreign room, her first thought was that she would be in severe trouble. And then, of course, came the fear and paranoia any rational person would feel. She sat up, looking around wildly and regretting it as soon as her head started pounding. Her hand flew to her temple as she waited for the small wave of nausea to pass her by. What had happened to her? She remembered feeling dizzy, remembered a room full of dust and color and theatricality. She remembered how that room spun in her head, remembered falling...

And she remembered stars.

She hadn't left the circus. The thought struck her with the force of a hurricane wind and Annalore's breath froze in her lungs. She hadn't left the circus. Lore remembered stepping away from Bennett Preston after attending the magic show, remembered venturing back into the tent to confront the magician... She had fainted before she had ever gotten her answers, had fallen unconscious during their conversation.

But that didn't explain where she was or how she had ended up here. Was she still within the circus somewhere? Annalore moved her legs around, sitting up on the couch. She smoothed out her dress, the mundane task meant to help her keep her calm while her mind raced frantically to figure out her next course of action. How long had she been asleep, anyway? Perhaps it had only been a few moments and Bennett was still waiting for her nearby... Or perhaps it had been hours and it was near morning. Perhaps Bennett had left or, with his worried nature, went to her father. Perhaps her father had every detective in Scotland Yard out looking for her now. Perhaps she would be in much, much trouble for even coming to the circus in the first place...

Rising on shaky legs, Annalore came to stand in the middle of the room, looking around frantically to get some sort of idea as to where she was. She had seen a medic's little set up near the entrance of the circus -- perhaps she had been taken to see him?

When another wave of that odd nausea rushed over her, Lore found herself falling into a seat on the couch once more as she let it pass. Once it was gone, she was left to wonder. Lore had not gotten her answers from the magician, but she knew something had happened. During that so-called illusion...something had happened to her that made her as she was now.

Paranoia entered her being and her eyes traveled to the only door in the room. She was afraid, though, of what might be waiting for her on the other side. But she forced herself to stand again, moving quickly towards the door. But Lore paused then, her hand on the handle. She pressed her ear against the door, listening as to what might be on the outside. She needed to be smart, she knew, needed to keep her wits about her, even if her breathing was a bit shallow from fright. Lore waited there, listening...



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