Warwick had been mulling over the idea ever since Giana mentioned it -- but in a back-of-his-mind sort of way, in that 'well, it's an idea, but...' manner than meant he wasn't really thinking about it, not yet. He didn't want to be thinking about it, yet, because that meant an air of seriousness he just didn't feel up to.

Until, perversely, the Silly Contest. Perhaps Warwick had gotten it out of his system, or perhaps it had served as a reminder that he really missed being on stage, or in public, performing. After the contest, he'd done everything he could to put together an audition together, and...and three days hadn't really been enough. As he and Giana worked their way out to the circus, him dressed in the bright fringy wrap she'd made him for the event, he was jittery and nervous. Quiet. Chewing on his fingernails.

Hopefully, it would fade when it needed to.

He looked like he wasn't quite ready, and he was probably right.
She gently put a hand on his shoulder, rubbed a bit. "You okay, Warwick? It's alright. I've seen what you can do, and I'd rather be confident than shaking if I were you."
She was worried, especially because she might not see him again after this. Maybe they'd need someone to do drudge work at the circus, assuming he got in? She didn't really know, but...She thought for a bit, and many of the people she'd met at the festival were actually part of the circus. Interesting. Hopefully there was something to do for her, especially if Warwick made it.
Giana hoped he did; she didn't want to have to pick up the pieces afterwards, as she wasn't quite sure how they went together in the first place.

Warwick's instinct was, immediately, to shrug her off. It was nothing personal, he just needed some breathing room, and the physical contact made him even more jittery, antsy. He'd put together an act in a matter of days, and he really didn't think it was much. He fussed with his fringe, instead, head tipped thoughtfully to the side.

"Don't worry about it, dze. 's always other places te go, wouldn't ye say?" And that was about all the conversation he could muster: for today, he was moody teenager, focused solely on navigating his way to Balder and the possibility of an audition, completely oblivious to the fact that quite a few people had probably had the same idea, this season...

They walked the rest of the way not really talking, Giana not really sure what she could do. She had an overpowering instinct to comfort, but...nothing was going to help. She'd just have to wait until this whole thing was over and hope he made it, hope he was still okay after all this.

The circus was strangely deserted today...not too much going on.
Giana wondered if she should let Warwick announce his presence himself, or if he was going to be all funny about it. Poor thing. She wasn't even too sure about being shrugged off; was it her?

Judging from the distant, not-quite dreamy look in his eyes, the focus with which he picked out Balder's tent and wove his way single minded in that direction -- no. No, it wasn't her. He wanted the man in his sights before he relaxed a little, breathing, because this really was going to happen. Warwick swept his bag into the small of his back so he'd be ready to shake, rehearsing how to say his name in his head.

Hesta, Leslie Warwick...

Hesta, Warwick, nice to...

Oes, Leslie, but I prefer...

Balder? You own this place, ne, ha. ha.

Vrunta, let's skip all this kensersh an' just get te hiring me!

...the concern probably showed on his face.

Balder stood outside of his tent, pacing. He had his small notebook open and a pencil in his teeth. The two wicks would be able to hear him muttering as he paced. Over by the fire, a grey haired man sat holding a sausage on a stick over the flames, squinting against the heat, cigarette in mouth. His hair was wild and wirey and he wore only a pair of baggy brown pants and suspenders. He looked up at the approaching duo and grunted.

"Balder, sausage is cooked! And you got more guests." The ringmaster lifted his balding head, snapping the notebook shut. He walked over to the fire and picked up his tall black hat, popping it onto his head. Grinning at Gianna and Warwick, he nodded.

"Welcome, welcome! How can we help you! Winslow here is cooking sausages if your looking for eats!"

He was lucky -- the moment the man came into view, the moment he addressed them, Warwick clicked into show mode. He offered a comfortable smile in return, holding his hand out to shake in an easy manner. Even if his head was still whizzing around in circles, underneath, he could manage to shake and play nice.

"Ah, ne, I mean, no." He swallowed some of the accent, shooting a look back toward Giana; doubted she'd go for sausage with who-knew-what-animals inside, even if his own stomach was grumbling. "Leslie Warwick, 'm lookin fer some work, if ye don't mind listening."

His first name was Leslie? She'd always assumed Warwick was his first, but then he'd never told her different. Maybe they could be partners in bad names...Giana's parents had, possibly under the influence of something, decided to give her the middle name Edna. Luckily it was her middle name, or she'd have had some serious people problems.
It was funny; the minute the man she assumed to be Balder showed up, Warwick seemed more confident, more sure of himself. At this point, if she was in his place, she'd probably be a little puddle of melted Gi goo on the ground, from the sheer pressure of the entire affair. And yet somehow he was still able to actually talk to the guy in what seemed to be a normal voice? Applause, applause.

Balder shook his hand firmly and shrugged, using the other hand to take the sausage from Winslow. Taking a bite, he gestured.

"Always 'ooking for 'orkers 'on." He said around the hot sausage. Swallowing and moving the banger from hand to hand, he blinked back tears of pain.

"Clocks that was hot! Right, as I said, always looking for workers. Are you a performer or more of a hired muscle sort of boy?" The baldering man looked at Giana and smiled.

"Girlfriend?" He asked, biting the sausage again. A yell sounded across the tents, then something akin to a bark. Winslow jumped to his feet as a tiny white ball of fluff ran for them, tail all bristled and blue eyes wide. Following shortly behind it was a ruddy reddish ball of fluff, at least as tall as one's knees. With ivory spines along its neck and an excited yap, the red fluff chased the white fluff.

"Oi! OI YA KENSER!" Taegan yelled, legging along after the two animals. The white fluff leapt onto Giana's skirt, little claws working to pull itself up, climbing to her shoulders where it stopped long enough to be recognized as one of the rare white osta's Jerzy had been peddling. It's little blue eyes glared at the red animal barking at it from her feet. Taegan caught upto them and swept the animal up in his arms.

"Bad Charlie! BAD!" He said to the spiny red creature. It licked at his face excitedly and panted, obviously built for a much warmer climate. The blonde tamer looked at Giana with a sorry grin.

"I erm...sorry about that. He's just a baby, and Caz got out of the kint. One thing led to another and zoom!" Pulling a length of rope from his pocket, the boy quickly tied the red animal by the shoulders in a sort of harness, then put him down, holding the end of the makeshift leash. The pup yapped up at them, wriggling with excited delight, pink tounge hanging out and yellow eyes adoring. Balder gave Taegan a stern look.

"I thought you said they were going to be part of your act kiddo, not new pets." The blonde boy grinned impishly.

"In time old man, in time!" Nodding to Giana, he reached for the osta, who chirruped and allowed herself to be picked up. Holding her close to his chest, he winked at the witch.

"Sorry bout that. Hope I didn't ruin your presentation guys!"

"Aww, that's all right! I have an osta of my own. She...sleeps on my head. Not the most comfortable thing."

She could handle lots of animals at once, of course. This guy...not so much, it seemed.

"And, umm, ahaha, ummm..."
What the heck, girlfriend? She knew she should be denying it outright, but instead she just laughed nervously and kept looking over at Warwick. Say something.

" -- ah -- " the interruption left him somewhat breathless, trying to follow the movements of the animals. That made him grin, find his rhythm again, attention returning to Balder as Teagan led the creatures off.

"I'm interested in performin', jugglin', acrobatics, whatever ye need, but I think Giana there has other plans. She's good with animals, though, ye see? Not so much as a squeak out of her." And he didn't deny the girlfriend, not directly, just turned it sideways. Diverted. Moved on. He leaned in a little closer, mock conspiratorial. "If that thing had climbed on me, might well have run off screamin'."

Taegan chuckled and hefted the purring little osta.

"She's been doing that at night, sleeps on my head. I suppose its where its warm and she can't get smooshed, but still." He shook his head.



Balder nodded and looked at Giana with a grin.

"Maybe you can help this kenser with his new playmates. The boy raises a chrove without so much as a hiccup, and now he's got an osta and a...a...what is it Taegan?" Winslow sat back down eyeing the red puppy, he coughed and stabbed a new sausage with his stick.

"It's a spinewolf. Hoxian animal. They are made for the cold." He seemed just a little annoyed, watching the puppy closely. Looking up at Taegan, he shook his head.

"Can be dangerous boy." Taegan scoffed and looked at Giana with a shrug.

"They told me that about chroves too." The ringmaster stepped closer to Warwick.

"Listen lad, if you wanna perform, you gotta audition. Have you got something planned? Taegan, take those animals out of here son, don't want them getting in anyone's hair again." The blonde looked slightly hurt, and with a pout, turned to go, tugging gently on Chalie's lead. The spinewolf whined at Giana, before galloping off ahead, jerking on the lead.

"...of course I got something prepared." He blinked at Balder in a confused manner; who on earth would show up for an audition without something in mind. He shrugged his bag off and looked around while he rooted through for various supplies. His eyes landed briefly on Gi and he flashed her a smile, almost embarrassed.

"Here? Somewhere else? Going te need a lot of clear space around me, anyway." This in-between time was the worse. Bag and juggling balls in one hand, knives and metal rings in the other, and a hopeful and awkward smile to Balder.

"Sure thing! Especially if this one gets in, which I'm hoping he will." She smiled over at Warwick, who was rooting through his bags. "Good luck!"
She was rather happy he hadn't completely denied her the girlfriend tag. Aww. And he knew quite a bit about her, for some reason. She hoped he'd win himself a spot, so she could still see him.
She looked over at Warwick, hoped he wouldn't mind, and ran off to attempt to help Taegan.
She'd be back, of course.

Taegan perked up when he saw Giana approaching, and was turned abruptly around as the spinewolf saw her too. Charlie yapped jumping up on her as she got close enough. The blonde haired boy gave her a wink, blue eyes twinkling.

"Looks like he's got a liking for you, good taste too if I don't say so myself." He grinned rougishly, biceps flexing slightly as he tried to pull the strong little creature down from her.

((creating side thread, viewtopic.php?f=6&t=1591&p=23084#p23084 ))

---

Balder waited till the girl had headed off with Taegan, giving Warwick a little look as he stood with implements in hand. Settling down with a thump by the fire, he nodded.

"Alright son, show me what you got."

Warwick watched her go, weighing all his tools of trade between his hands and drawing in a breath. He kept his old, faded metal rings jingling around one wrist as he tossed the first of the balls into the air. It was light, easy, careless, and expert: he'd been doing this for as long as he can remember.

"Now, I'm goin' te do some juggling for ye, but this ent it, an' I have some other ideas if'n they can be pulled off..." Two balls balls, weaving through each other in a classic patten as he took another step back, smiling at Balder. He was barely even watching. "So keep that in mind, oes?"

With that, he actually focused on what he was doing. Three balls, and it started out slow, a display of variety; outside in, inside out. Well done, but simple enough. Under the leg, backwards, cascade, all the classics were tossed out with a cheerful ease. Four balls, now, and they went higher, and the simple joy of it won a grin out of him.

But this was pre-show, wasn't it? This was the warm up. With a flick of his wrist he added one of the rings into the mix, and this part took his attention. More than mere juggling, some neat little twist turned it into a weave that sent the balls through the ring mid-air, halfway seeming to float while they paraded in through it.

It was a mesmerizing flow, and maybe it was simply the distraction of the parade that allowed Warwick to do something that just made the balls disappear; there were four, and then three, and then two. Finally, one ball moving through the floating ring, a spin added so it was like a small rotating planet between them. He blinked up at Balder with it still going and that delighted smile on his face. He loved this.

"...do ye want something more impressive? I got some knives, too..."

Winslow sat mesmerized, cigarette hanging from a slightly slack jaw, sausage going an unsavory black on one side. Balder's breath exploded as he clapped, notebook under his arm.

"That was absolutely clocking brilliant! Exactly the sort of performance we need. Magical, enchanting, exciting, breathtaking...the sausage Winslow, the sausage!" He said pointing at the now on fire edible. The clown snapped out of his stupor to bash the unoffensive lump of now burned meat on the ground. Looking at it with a disapproving frown, he kicked it into the fire and nodded.

"That was certainly good. You wouldn't be out of place here." The older man said, scratching at his wild grey hair. Balder reached out and slapped Warwick on the shoulder.

"Welcome to the circus my good lad! Why don't you find a spare spot and we'll set you up a tent. Then maybe you should have a talk with the other performers about costume, makeup and how we present our shows. Maybe talk to Calli about lengthening your routine a bit, you said you have knives? That might be interesting if you can do something really mesmerizing with them, like these balls and hoops you got. Either way, you are most definitely in." Already the ringleader had pulled his notebook out, opening the page and writing furiously with his pencil. Winslow gave Warwick a look.

"Don't expect much talk now he's got his notebook out. Congratulations lLeslie." He frowned for a moment, then shook his head.

"No, doesn't work. Warwick. Much better." Winking at the boy, he began poking another sausage on the stick.

That was startling. Warwick caught the last ball out of the air and the ring around his wrist, looking almost embarrassed by the praise -- like he hadn't been expecting it, perhaps. His eyes slid onto Winslow and he dragged up an awkward sort of smile, shoulders hiked in one quick shrug, and then he cleared his throat.

"I have others." It was probably addressed to Balder. He took a step forward to grab his bad and slide it over his shoulders, still gripping the rings in his hands, "The knives look dangerous but ent..."

He didn't really know where he was going with that, it had just been so fast and his head was still spinning. "...and, ahm. Costumes...I'm...don't really got a whole lot, just now..."

Balder waved his hand, looking down into the frayed pages.

"It's okay son, we make the costumes here. Talk to some of the girls if you want, but the best seamstress is right here." He looked up at Winslow with a grin. The old clown squinted at the ringleader for a moment, before looking up at Warwick.

"What can I say? Been around a few maw, had a few jobs."

Warwick offered Winslow a smile in reply, crooked and amused. He stood with his head tipped, making juggling balls appear out of his clothing in a careless sort of way. Well, they had to have gone somewhere, no?

"...should we, uh. Go elsewhere?" He lowered his voice, a little jittery, perhaps. "He seems busy, ye chen, wouldn't want te disturb..."

Winslow looked confused for a minute, before glancing at Balder and chuckling. Turning the sausage, he shook his head.

"No boy, he'll just go off into his own world. You can't bother him coz he wont hear you. It's a bit early for me to start costuming ideas, how's about you have a bit of a wander. Find some other circus folk? We can get together later to talk costuming. Got some fabric and stuff out in the crates some where. Just be sure to come and see me before the 25th of Bethas, okay?" Regarding the sausage carefully, he coughed once.

"Ah, I gotcha..." Or he pretended, at least, even if Warwick didn't really have a clue. He took two steps away before he hesitated, both eyebrows raised at Winslow, fidgeting where he stood. Being still was, apparently, an effort. "Do ye know where Giana an' the kov with the animals ran off te?"

Winslow bit the sausage delicately and twisted to point down to the very end of the encampment, where the black kint could just be seen over the tents.

"See that black kint, they should be somewhere near there. But don't approach the kint directly. Clarabelle is in there."

"Clarabelle?" Something jittery to his voice, there. He smiled at Winslow, but it was a but wan; kept his eyes on the man as he started off toward the cart. Slowly. Now he wasn't sure he wanted to. "She have a bad temper, Clarabelle?"

Winslow chuckled and nodded.

"You could definitely say that. Definitely. Why not go have a look for yourself, its much more fun than me explaining it."