#↳ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ; ᴅᴇᴍᴇᴛʀɪᴜꜱ ☆꙰

[cursedvessels]

//starter for @richardxoliverxmayhew

"Did you enjoy the show?"

The words were spoken smoothly from the shadows, a man hidden in the dark just behind Richard. Perhaps the hiding wasn't purposeful--it was late into the evening after all, the sun already long gone from the sky and the moonlight dancing across the big top tent. As he stepped forward, Demetrius smiled a broad smile, teeth glimmering dangerously as he gestured toward the other with a gloved hand. He was well-kept, wearing a different suit than the one in the show, though it was not much less flashy--deep sea blue in a velvet pattern with accents of glitter along the lapels and cuffs.

"I saw you watching so very closely and I thought to myself, I simply must go introduce myself to that man!" A guttural laugh paired with a dramatic gesture of his hands. It was clear here in the moonlight now that he was, in fact, the Ringmaster from the show the other had just exited along with the rest of the bustling crowd. The circus was still very much active with different tents and games and lights still blinking and whizzing across the field, but here outside the big top it was much quieter, somehow more still than all the rest--a peaceful dark. The mysterious Ringmaster extended a leather-gloved hand for the other to shake.

"Demetrius Shaw. A name you won't soon forget, I venture." The handshake was firm, almost tight, clearly meaningful and strong. A breath, tilting his head to the side as he eyed the other. "You know, something in your aura tells me you've something on your mind--perhaps something to do with some of what you witnessed in my show, I presume?"

[cursedvessels]

"Oh, don't be so hard on yourself! You'd make a delightful show girl," Demetrius hums in response to her putting down his compliment. Of course, it was hardly a compliment when put that way. He would never hire her on permanently. Not since he'd seen the way she looked at Shimi. Didn't need her taking away one of his stars.

"Ahhh...Let me see!" He's already reaching out a hand to take a look through the sketchbook. He doesn't ask, just takes, immediately taking a look, flipping page after page, eyes scanning over the images. At a couple, he merely wrinkles his nose in slight distaste and continues. "Could use some work, but I like the potential!" It's a backhanded compliment, really, a bright grin given to her as he passes it back into her hands.

A quirked brow is given when she mentions caricatures. A suggestion for a new act, perhaps...His smile starts to falter, fading slightly as she speaks, shows off the piece of Eric.

"Oh, my dear...Don't flatter yourself too much!" He laughs. "Keep humble, keep humble," he hums, patting her shoulder like she's a dog performing tricks for his attention. "Perhaps if you hone your skills, I could find you a place in my show...Or a tent on the grounds. But you'll have to show me something truly spectacular first. My acts are, of course, only comprised of the best."

“Yeah, I have-“ Before she can finish, he’s kissing either side of her cheeks again. God, she hated that. But she fixes her face, a soft smile when he pulls back to keep talking. “Um, oh.” Leo looks down at herself, fidgeting slightly as he comments on her thinness. “Thank you. It would be an honor to be in your circus but I’m afraid I have no talent and a terrible fear of heights.” A bit of a laugh is given, clearing her throat after.

“I did a few rough outlines of things that might work for a poster.” The sketchbook is dug out of her bag, pages of other drawings flipped through. “I don’t know what exactly you’d like so keep in mind these are just quick thoughts of mine. But, um…”

The first sketch is a cityscape style, the different tents all shoved together with the big top in the middle, of course; room above it for the name of the circus, potentially a small slogan. The other is of Mr. Shaw himself, looking fierce as he tames a lion that’s stood upon a platform.Another of various acrobats swinging in the air. Basic stuff, but enough to showcase what she could do.

“I thought that maybe I could do portraits of some of your stars as well? Obviously you can… supervise.” She clicks her tongue. “Oh, one more thing.” A few more pages are flipped and there’s a caricature drawing of Eric. “I didn’t get to see all the attractions, so if you already have someone that’s fine of course.” Her gaze flickers up to Demetrius, a bit of a pensive look on her face. “I could, um, do caricatures of the attendees. For free, of course, I wouldn’t want anything for it.” Mr. Barlow’s idea entirely. “Up to you, though, you won’t hurt my feelings if you say no.”

[cursedvessels]

𓂀 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕒 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝔻𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕦𝕤 𓂀

[cursedvessels]

The ting! of the bell is enough to take Demetrius' pause in the door of the little apothecary, the inside a bit less impressive than he had expected. Looming in the doorway, his gaze glossed over the books and shelves and other trinkets and spells in view. It wasn't a very busy shop...Good.

He adjusted one of the dark leather gloves on his hand as he took pause, shoulders relaxed. A charming smile lit up his features when the woman across the counter spoke up, though.

"Well, I was wondering if you could help me..." He started slow, his tone methodical, as he crossed the room toward her. His bright eyes had no warmth behind them, though they sparkled still, a certain charm about him which defied explanation.

"You see, I've...Lost something. Something I'd very much like to get back. A prized possession of sorts." A sly grin, then a snap of his fingers. "Ah! But where are my manners? Demetrius Shaw." He offered a gloved hand for her to shake, polite and appealing, though if she did take it he would likely kiss her knuckles with an added 'enchanté.'

O p e n

The hairs on the back of her neck tickle, alterting her to a new presence in the shop. Well that, and the gentle ring of the bell over the door.

It's hard to tell, back turned, whether another supernatural has come in, or just a plain old human. Callisto's magic doesn't work like that, and anyway, they've worked hard to make the apothecary look like just another new age shop to anyone who wasn't in the know.

But if they did know, then it was likely they were here for a reason. After all, she'd cultivated the whispers in the dark of being the witch who'd sell spells, more than just bits and bobs.

Finally, she turns, regarding the newcomer.

"What can I do for you?"

[cursedvessels]

As Leo waltzes off, Demetrius is resigned to his room once more, closing the tent curtains behind as he settles himself down to resume the makeup work.

It isn't long before the lights dim, a spotlight flickering on toward the centre of the tent. It's absolutely packed, every last seat full, some children even sneaking in and hiding under the rafters to see the show. It was the talk of the town. All over the news. Demetrius' Big Top Spectacular! The Grand Opening! What fun!

The show opens with a start, live music and banners and confetti, bright colours showing off in every direction, acrobats spinning from the ceiling as if they were floating. There's magic in the air, the crowd absolutely awestruck as they leaned in to the musical numbers, the dancing, the interactive story being told on the stage. It's impossible to look away for even a moment for fear one might miss even the tiniest detail! A mermaid, a genie, a wonderful girl who can do impossible things. Skaters and dancers and acrobats galour! Not to mention the animals, the magic tricks...My God! Everything one could imagine and so much more! So many oddities to be seen, so much glitter to be caught! By the time it's over, everyone in the tent is standing, cheering loudly, stomping their feet to the point of the rafters shaking under the weight. Flowers and handkerchiefs are thrown in support as the cast bows upon the stage, the boy with the purple eyes and curly mop of hair among them. He had been particularly impressive, part of the clowns and magician acts, an excellent assistant and so much more! The things he could do defied imagination! Much like all of the other members of the magnificent spectacle.

It's a long show, though it doesn't feel it, nearly 3 hours long and yet flying by so quickly people are practically salivating at the mouth for more! But everything must come to an end and those who have paid the big bucks to attend have received a nice handful of tokens for the rest of the attractions afterward. The others are directed to purchase some on their way out--as well as the various merchandise in the small tent just outside.

Leo doesn’t cringe when he presses kisses to both cheeks. She is frozen – simply withdrawing inside of herself to pretend the interaction isn’t happening. She allows for a smile when he talks about her artwork and simply nods. There’s not much else she has to say, nor does she want to, unless, of course, it would be to voice her disdain for circuses. 

The threat he gives is met with a simple nod of her head. Her eyes lift to Tim who is standing close by, ready to lead her to their seats. 

Just as she wiggles from his grasp he shoves her, forcing her to steady herself on a nearby table. Tim lifts a brow but doesn’t question. Leo is ready to open her mouth and bite back but instead she’s caught off guard by the coins being dumped into her hands. 

“Thank you SO much Mr. Shaw! Your charity is greatly appreciated.” The sarcasm is laced discreetly, enough for him to catch onto but subtle enough Tim will just find her polite. 

Their seats are nearly front row, roped off from the rest of the crowd. Must have been an investor perk. Leo doesn’t pay much attention – just idly inspects the coins until Eric jostles her as the show begins.

[cursedvessels]

A warm smile on Demetrius' face, a hefty chuckle reaching his lips as he reaches out to shake Tim's hand. The woman doing his makeup pauses as he turns and stands to greet the welcomed guests. She stands frozen in a corner, a sweet, practiced smile on her lips as she waits for them to finish their interaction. She looks like a doll too.

"Wonderful! Wonderful to see you, Tim!" He shakes his hand firmly with both hands, a nod. "So glad you were able to make it!" A wink. Brows quirked upward when he mentioned the girl again. His gaze shifted to her, not once giving way to the slight irritation picking at the back of his mind upon seeing her. She was like a virus. And he was eager to rid of her before she contaminated the rest of his prized possessions. A low, graveled hum. "Yes, of course," he replied simply, allowing the others to part ways as Leo stood before him. He's smiling. Much more relaxed than their previous encounter. It seems nothing can bring down his good mood. Thankfully...

Yet he can see through her façade. With ease, he notices the way she doesn't meet his eyes, seems resigned to her apology as if it were not her own. But he ignores it, lets it slide for this one instance. She will not ruin his beloved show. This was his chance to become who he knew he had always meant to be. No one could stop him.

After a moment's pause, considering her apology, he gives a warm, friendly smile, a soft chortle bubbling up from his chest. Arms open wide as if to hug, then simply rest his hands on her shoulders. There's a firmness to his touch that screams of the tension he has towards her despite his expression being quite convincing to the contrary. A kiss pressed to either cheek, grinning.

"All is forgiven, my child," he hums with ease, chin tilting up. "An artiste! My, my, my, my...Well, yes! Of course! Your art would be welcomed for our publicité," he chuckled. "Our advertisements could use a bit of colour, I believe!" He starts to turn her to stand beside him, arm slithering around her as he lets his gloved hand grip her opposite shoulder, holding her small frame in closer. He's taking slow steps to lead her back toward the exit of his dressing room as he whispers into her ear without so much as letting the grin falter from his face,

"And if I ever catch you going near any of my stars again, I will have your head on a platter. Nod if you understand." There's clear restraint in his tone, forcing her to keep a smile on her face as well so no one suspects anything.

"All right!" Releasing her, he gives a playful push forward. "Off you go! The show begins soon, you'll want to get the best seats in the house, reserved just for the Barlows!" A pause, holding up a finger. "Oh! I almost forgot..." He snatches up a handful of tokens from his dressing table, sprinkling them into her palm and closing her fingers around them. A smile, wrinkling his nose a bit good-naturedly.

"Enjoy the attractions, too! See all there is to see! Perhaps you might draw some inspiration for your advertisements, hm?"

“Wait, how could you have possibly seen-“ The girl is vanished – and Leo stares quizzically at the space where she had just been. A hand grabs her by the elbow and she screams, jumping to stare right into the eyes of Sharon.

“Are you all right?” There’s a genuine concern in her voice, eyes drifting down to Leo’s feet. “Come on, sweetheart.”

--

After days of being reminded of just how awful she had behaved, a decision’s been made of how Leonora will rectify this shortcoming. And thus, she is marched unwillingly into a small room in the back of the main tent.

 It’s opening night – and of course, she’s dressed in an outfit she did not pick. Every detail of her had been selected by someone else. They had stripped her of her individuality. Had to be perfect to make up for what she had done. Like she was a doll.

“Demetrius!” Tim chortles, reaching for a handshake. Behind him trails Leo, Eric, and Sharon. “We wanted to say hello before the show starts. Ms. Rogers would like to have a word with you, so if you’ll excuse us…”

At first she says nothing. Not until the others filter out, just as they had told her. So it doesn’t look forced.

“I would like to apologize to you for my actions that led to your… star, being hurt.” Her voice is monotone as the words come out. “It was out of character for me to act that way, and I am sorry for giving you the wrong impression of me.” A small breath in, she wants to roll her eyes – but fears he will see. “I hope you can forgive me, it will not happen again.” She clears her throat, trying to think if she’s forgotten anything.

She twists a little to look outside of the tent. Tim is watching, almost as if he is grading her performance. Her motions with his hand, telling her to go on.

“I would like to paint something for you, for free of course, if you’d like. Or if I can offer my services in any way…” A beat. “Thank you for inviting me tonight.”

[cursedvessels]

The attempt at the other to stand tall was rather pitiful, really. He was, after all, rather short and certainly far smaller than the Ringmaster. Still, it was sort of endearing to watch the young man stiffen, bristling at the seams to try and seem much stronger than he actually was. How naïve.

A small hum of a chortle reaches Demetrius' lips at Richard's line of questioning. Such simple questions from such a display...Questions that, in the end, mattered so little in comparison to the questions that the other probably should be asking.

"Who am I?" There's pride behind the rhetoric, a gloved hand dramatically pressing to his chest. "Well...I could share that with you...And much more, I might add. But only because you're special. See, not many people pique my interest, Mr. Mayhew...Few and far between, actually." His hand as moved down to Richard's upper back now, slowly turning him, pulling him to walk alongside him. He's guiding him back toward the tent, in opposition to the crowd meandering back to the rest of the fair.

"But I like you. So share I shall...Follow me."

Ducking back into the tent, they're met with the hustle and bustle of crew members cleaning up the aftermath of the show, tearing down stage pieces, wrangling animals. There's a young man with curly hair who appears to be doing a whole lot of ordering. For a moment, if you looked close enough one might notice the boy's eyes practically glowing deep lavender, commanding the room with a gentle fierceness. The glass case that contained the mermaid from the show is being slowly covered, the girl and her tail still inside, settling down along the bottom atop the coral. There's someone in another corner who seems to be up to no good, their eyes bright green, a spliff caught between their lips bobbing up and down as they argue with another crew member.

Through all this chaos, Demetrius is leading Richard across the stage area, weaving through set pieces being moved as they went, until they've reached a small area toward the back, just out of reach of the noise and madness going on in the rest of the tent. It's a cramped little corner, but there's a door that's easily locked as they step inside, the sounds outside growing muffled to near silence as Demetrius lets his hand slide off of Richard's shoulder and moves to grab a bottle of Bourbon. De-gloving his hands, he points to a rickety little chair in one corner of the room, the fancy rings on his fingers carved with several runes that twinkle under the warm lights.

"Sit, sit! Make yourself comfortable," he encourages, slipping off his suit jacket to drape over the luxurious velvet seat facing a vanity that held several mirrors with lights around them. It was very similar to a changing room you'd find backstage at any Broadway musical production.

There it was again. The rational part of his brain screaming at him to step back. To turn on the heel of his shoe and walk away. There was something positively wolfish about this man. Not only that, but the Scotsman had dealt with his fair share of the unknown to last a lifetime. Did he forget all of the scars it had caused him. The nightmares. The dismay and mental tumult. Nevertheless, Richard stood his ground. He tilted his chin up at the ringmaster, as if trying to stand taller than he was; schooling a sapphiric gaze of both fascination and obstinance. It was only then that Richard Mayhew realized how close their two figures were. He could not only catch a hint of the gentleman's exotic perfume wafting against the tip of his nose, but Richard also realized how ardent the ringmaster's gaze was. He felt not only regarded, but as if the man were peering through him. Still, he did not run.

"Who exactly are ye', Demetrius? And how do ye' know 'bout all... This?"

[cursedvessels]

Demetrius is stood toward the central stage area of the space beneath the tent, gloves hands firmly planted on his hips as he stares up at a young blonde practicing some kind of acrobatic routine. “I said I want it wider, so do it wider! What about that is so difficult to understand,” he growled. A deep sigh, pressing his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. He snaps his fingers with the other hand, immediately calling over a disheveled looking young man drapes in colourful beads, his eyes a vibrant, striking emerald green���shoeless and hiding a joint behind his back.

The two exchange words and then Demetrius is shoving the boy, hand grabbing his face and pushing him away roughly as he turns on his heel and begins to storm off. His teeth are clenched when he turns and starts to approach Leo, who’s stood at the entrance of the tent a bit of a distance away. The girl up on the trapeze has started wordlessly practicing again, the young man who had been shoved seemingly having disappeared in thin air.

“What’re you doing here,” he exclaims at first, brows deeply furrowed. But then, it’s like it clicks and his face brightens dramatically. “Ah! Little Nora! Brought me some of your work to show for, have you?” Arms open wide as if for a hug, then rest on her shoulders with a firm grip. A kiss pressed to either cheek in greeting.

“Aren’t you looking rather thin today? That colour does wonders for your figure. Keep it up and you might even be able to secure a spot in my show!” A laugh.

@cursedvessels

The memory of that night in the tent with Shimi has yet to leave her mind. At each turn she sees it, the two of them dancing; the kiss they shared, as brief as it was. She remains unable to determine if it was real or a figment of her imagination. Perhaps he had slipped a hallucinogenic in her tea, making her see what she wanted to see. Maybe there was no magic at all.

Without so much as a goodbye, Eric drops her at the front gate of the circus. A rectangular bag hangs off her shoulder, housing a sketchbook and various pens and pencils. Again, she’s dressed in an outfit she didn’t pick. One too nice for her to be sat on the ground drawing in, even if it still seemed plain; a pair of nice jeans and a blouse tucked in, brand new ankle boots. A bit more makeup on her face than usual. It was as if they were pimping her out to him.

“Can you tell me where Mr. Shaw is?” One of the workers points to the big top tent without a word. Leo stops briefly to readjust her bag, staring down the path towards the other attractions. Towards Shimi’s tent. But she ignores the burning feeling to seek him out and instead keeps walking.

“Mr. Shaw?” She swallows, her voice soft – more polite than she had been in the past. “I’m here a bit early, I hope that’s alright?”  

[cursedvessels]

As Richard took his hand, Demetrius gave it a firm shake, charming gaze glinting as he looked him up and down, taking in his demeanour. He was processing, chewing, digesting the information that was presented to him. Sure, Demetrius didn't have any truly unusual power of his own--save the creatures that gave him power--but if there were any talents he had it was intuition...insight. With one look, he could suspect a person's intentions, bring them into the light, and manipulate their way in one fell swoop. It was how he had managed to have such a fine circus in the first place, after all. Naivety was a playground for Demetrius.

A soft smirk, noting the pink in the other's cheeks as he spoke. What knowledge was hidden in this man? Something powerful, he ventured to guess. He could smell it from a mile away. Reality-warping, time-bending, mind-boggling power. A stretch pulled out of this reality and into a new one. Something truly special.

"Richard," he hummed in a low, groveled tone. "Oh, I quite like that." He let his voice trail off into subtle laughter. "A name of fortune. Have you found yourself immersed in wealth yet? I dare say it is in your future, Mr. Mayhew." And it wasn't a lie, not necessarily. The Ringmaster had plenty of wealth to share...Especially with those who proved useful to him.

"Ahh, you flatter me!" He chuckled, playfully tapping the Scotsman's shoulder. "It's all just a bunch of hocus pocus to most who come to the fairgrounds, but you?" A finger pointed at him. "You saw something, didn't you? Something you've seen before, maybe...A bit of that reality-bending magic you speak of...A power so great it can alter worlds, bend time to one's very will..!" A sly grin, feeling pride well up in his chest, create a lump in his throat. Another burst of joyous laughter.

"Young man, I daresay you have been to other worlds before, have you not?"

Echoes of implausible visions continued to dance in the forefront of Richard's mind. Even now, as he lingered outside the yawning exit of the tent, hands shoved deep into his pockets so as to protect him from the biting cold of the evening, he wasn't entirely sure what he had witnessed, nor how such a spectacle was possible. Richard had never seen anything like it... Then again, that wasn't entirely true. How was it that the Scotsman had, at one point in time, found himself head-deep in the improbable-- Doors conjured out of thin air. Fallen angels lusting for revenge. The deathly touch of living Night. A literal Beast.--yet spectacles, such as the one he had observed tonight, continued to shock him. Would he ever get used to such sights, he thought to himself.

The Scotsman's musings were cut to a halt when a velvet voice and a gloved hand sauntered from beyond the shadows. "Och! Sorry, I didn't see ye' standin' there," Richard chuckled sheepishly. "Oh, ye' saw tha' did ye'?" He felt his cheeks burn against their rounded edges slightly, knowing that his entrancement was that noticeable. "Well, it's safe to say tha' I more than enjoyed the show. Even now, I have to admit, I'm still a wee bit stunned from it all." "Demetrius Shaw?" Richard had never met a ringmaster until now, yet, even his name fit his occupation. He was like a ringmaster completely drawn from the pages of a children's novel. "Pleasure to meet ye', Demetrius," smiled the Scotsman, giving the circus master's hand a hearty shake back. "I'm Richard. Richard Mayhew.-- And as for my 'aura', aye, I suppose yer' righ'. I guess I'm just curious as to how the hell ye' managed to pull off somethin' like this! It's just... Wha' I saw tonigh'... It's like yer' acts completely left the realm of reality somehow!"

[cursedvessels]

A firm grip on Shimi’s shoulder to pull him back from the girl. “Watch yourself, boy,” he growls in a hushed tone in his ear. As the doors press open, the two of them spin round to find Tim Barlow waltzing through the doors to get his son.

Head held high, Demetrius gives a friendly smile to Tim. “That’s quite all right,” he hums with a joyful chuckle at mention of the other two having too much to drink. “I believe my pet here has just had his first drop of alcohol as well.” A hand plants on top of Shimi’s head, running down through his curls. Shimi doesn’t move, seemingly silenced by Demetrius’ mere presence. His touch only causes them to wince slightly.

“Perhaps we ought to take our leave…I’m afraid the party atmosphere is a bit much for you, hm?” Shimi’s lavender hues glance up at Demetrius, an unsteady gaze that blinks away in an instant. Suddenly, their shoulders tense and they push away from Demetrius, doubling over into the bushes and expelling the contents of their stomach. A tight-lipped smile from Demetrius as he watches the jinn right emselves.

A nod to Tim, blinking. “My sincerest apologies for any inconvenience Shimi has caused. He's, ah...Still learning his way in the world, see?” A hearty laugh.

Once they’ve left, Demetrius grabs Shimi by the wrist, yanking em to his side. Clenched teeth as he leans forward to glare at the drunken jinn. “You’ve humiliated me…again,” he hisses. A slap across the face that stings Shimi’s cheek, causing him to stumble slightly.

“Master Shaw, I—“

“Don’t. You've done enough damage for one evening.”

And with that, the two left the party without another word. Demetrius kept a firm, gloved hand on the scruff of Shimi's neck the whole way out.

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ☆。*。☆。*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*. * ✧˖*°࿐

As Leo stumbles across the fairgrounds, she might feel an instant rise of the hairs on the back of her neck. Through the darkness, a small girl is watching, bright eyes staring through the mist of the cold night air. She isn't seen immediately--nobody ever noticed her unless she really wanted them too. And even then, it depended on the state of their heart what they would see.

She watches for a long time. Time ticking by as the girl is sat on a bench on the fairgrounds, fireflies twinging in the air as they float past like little pieces of extra magic left behind from a long day of prep work to make the circus perfect.

"They aren't coming," she finally says, standing just behind the girl on the bench. "I'm sorry."

“Nora.” Eric’s voice warns again when Shimi’s hand reaches to touch her cheek.

There’s a sudden calm washing over her; a warmth that has her pressing into his touch. A small look of confusion when she can hear their voice in her head although their lips do not move. She nods – her head spinning with glee.

“Leonora.” Eric snarls again but he does not move. Afraid, perhaps, of what Shaw will do if he steps too close to his star.

Amid the commotion Tim Barlow pushes through the doors with an irritated look about him. He clears his throat to silence whatever is being said amongst the group.

“Demetrius.” A simple nod of his head, gaze shifting to Leo who is still standing in front of Shimi. “I believe my son and daughter-in-law have had a bit too much to drink.” He clears his throat, ushering for Leo to rejoin their side. He slips his suit coat off and puts it around her shoulders once she’s close enough. “Eric, why don’t you take Ms. Rogers back inside and get her some water? Perhaps something to eat.”

Leo crinkles her nose with a petulant groan. But she trails after Eric regardless, casting one last look back to Shimi. Within the hour. She thinks back – although, she’s unsure if they can hear her.

Tim’s gaze does not falter on Demetrius. He’s a hardened man that shows no weakness; no sense of intimidation. All exchanges to him are simply business. “He’s still learning how to keep her on a leash.” A small chuckle, his face turning smug. “Enjoy your evening.”

Eric traps Leo within the confines of a small room, yelling at and berating her for the better part of forty-five minutes. She’s humiliated him in front of his father, in front of Shaw, and in front of the ballroom attendees. He doesn’t hit her, but he comes close. His words do enough damage – by the time she’s left the bathroom, she’s cried off most of her makeup.

Eventually, Eric takes back off to the rest of the party. He has more connections to make – perhaps to find a girl much prettier than Leo to spite her. It doesn’t matter, not when she is slipping out the back door and stumbling her way towards the fairgrounds. The terrain proving too difficult to walk in heels, she peels them off and carries them instead. The cold grass sticking to her feet, pushing a shiver through her bones.

[cursedvessels]

As the man turned on his girlfriend, Demetrius’ lip curled. A roll of his eyes, but he’s turning away from them now, yanking his slave star off the ground. “C’mon. We’re going home.” Quite frankly, he was disgusted with this Barlow man. Had never been a fan of their family as a whole, but this one? He truly took the cake. Not even owning up to his own mistake, pushing the blame on the girl. He didn’t care for the girl’s well-being, of course…But Demetrius did care about honour, respect…And neither of those came when you wouldn’t own up to your own downfalls.

A pause when he hears the girl telling off the man and for a moment he thinks that Eric ought to smack her, to set her in line. Clearly she’s way too drunk for her own good. If he wasn’t so afraid of getting his hands dirty he’d do it himself…

Demetrius’ hand remains on the small of Shimi’s back, clinging to him as if this girl were going to try and steal him away.

Shimi winces slightly as Leo approaches, the cheeriness of his drunken demeanour slightly soured by the pain blossoming in his face. “You’re not a whore,” he whispers as she pulls his hands back from his face. He sniffles slightly, grimacing when he still tastes blood in his throat. A faint smile reappears when he hears her laugh.

“Yes. I’m—“ They stop instantly when their eyes lock on Demetrius. They swallow hard, expression faltering slightly again. “Just…fine. Had a bit too much to, um…to drink, I’d say, but holding together.” If they were being honest, they felt incredibly dizzy, their stomach twisting in knots. They’re leaning most of their body weight against Demetrius just to stay standing. There’s sadness to their smile when it returns to their face.

“I…should go…” they hum. However, they reach up to touch Leo’s cheek one last time, their eyes sparkling a little brighter for a brief moment before dissipating. "It was lovely meeting you, Ms. Rogers." The light tingling feeling of sparks is felt on her cheek where they touched, then melts into her skin, warming her emotions, lifting her heart—connecting their thoughts. Wordlessly, his voice echoes into her mind—a message.

Meet me out by the fairgrounds within the hour. We’ll finish dancing, yes?

Demetrius Shaw’s presence is immediately oppressive. Eric shrinks beneath the weight of his verbal lashing, hands lifting in the air in surrender. He steps back, wiping the blood from his split knuckles on his dress pants and clears his throat.

“Didn’t know he was with you, Mr. Shaw. My apologies.” Eric’s gaze drifts to Shimi, his tongue wetting his lips.- but to them, he says nothing.

He turns on Leo, his face lowering to hers. A bristling fire in his eyes that makes her pout. His jaw sets, a twitch at the hinge. She’s embarrassed him.

“Quit acting like a fucking whore.” His voice is low, pointed; if he couldn’t get his licks in with Shimi, he would get them with Leo. “Get in my car.” Eric turns back to Demetrius with a look of disbelief. “Sorry again.”

“I don’t want to go with you.” Her speech is slurred, eyes narrowed in defiance. She looks to a bleeding Shimi with a frown on her face. “He didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted him to kiss me.” She giggles – hand lifting to her mouth to bite on her knuckles. “I guess I’m just a whore.” Her voice sing-songs on the last word as she sidesteps Eric, a sweet smile given to Mr. Shaw as she walks past him, too. Not a care in the world.

Her hand brushes Shimi's from their face, inspecting the hit. “Still pretty.” She muses – a bit of a snort in her laugh. "Are you okay?"

Eric takes a small step forward then thinks better of it, rocking back on his heels and looking to the ground, fuming.

[cursedvessels]

She leans forward and for a second Shimi panics. He was trying to be nice, to show her a good time, but hadn't quite thought through this far ahead. Yet he's leaning in, too...Whether it was the spirits guiding him or his own heart was yet to be determined.

And probably wouldn't be anytime soon.

Before anything even happens, a hand is ripping Leo from their touch, causing them to stumble slightly at the sudden change of weight. Then they're being shoved and with how drunk they are, it's hard enough for them to trip backwards, back slamming roughly into the door behind, handle digging into their spine. A groan of pain, eyes slowly squinting open to look up at the man assaulting them.

They don't get much of a look though...Before being met with a fist to the face, knocking them to the ground. A trickle of blood drips from their nose, their lip as they slump to the pavement.

That's when he shows up.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing to my guy," Demetrius hisses like a snake suddenly appearing from where it had been hidden in the grass. He clicks his tongue, standing between Eric and Shimi, who is cowering against the doorframe and pinching his nose to slow the bleeding.

"Keep your filthy paws off of my star," he growled, a feral look in his eye that most would never see. Usually, especially at public spaces like this, he was all smooth-talk and calm, collected charm. Yet the moment Eric's fist collided with Shimi's face, it was like he went into alpha mode. It's not like he's doing it for Shimi, though. More like he's protecting his own property.

"I don't care what you thought was going on here," he spat. THe other male had crossed the line. He fucked up big time. And Demetrius was not the kind of man to be messed with. "It's over now! So get your drunk fucking girlfriend out of here before you do something you'll regret for the rest of your miserable life!"

Their eyes are so pretty. And Leo is intoxicated; her brain not quite making the connections it should. As if Eric doesn’t exist. Her nose brushes his with the lightest touch and her eyes fall to their lips. A small breath catches in her throat as her eyes drift up his face again. The smallest movement is made towards him, beckoning…

Leo is practically tossed backwards from them and would have hit the ground had she not been caught by someone else standing there. Eric is furious. He takes one step towards the other, knocking them backwards witha shove, and then slams his right fist into their face.

“ERIC!” Leo puts herself between them, one hand on his chest to hold him back from getting any closer to Shimi. “What the fuck?!”

“He just tried to kiss you and you’re asking ME what the fuck?” Eric takes her by the arm in a grip that has her yelping. “Are you drunk?” His gaze lifts to Shimi, a finger extended as he moves Leo out of the way again. “You trying to take advantage of my girlfriend you fucking freak?”

[cursedvessels]

Ah, there it was. How easy to get a complete stranger to admit his desires. Fortune could mean a lot of things to a lot of people. APparently, in Richard's case, he would be willing to settle for simple. That would make Demetrius' current plan much easier. The promise of a new job? A stable income? Wealth? Oh, he could do that with ease. Course, he could sense the deeper need for meaning within the scotsman, purpose. He had seen things that made him a different man. Much like Demetrius, Richard had tasted power or perhaps victory or strength...and he could not rest without finding a way to create that feeling again. Reality could be so boring, after all.

The lie that threatened to fall off of Richard's lips had Demetrius tilting his head to one side slightly. His brows quirked up, begging the other not to try to fib. It was obvious he knew more about Richard than he probably should for having just met him. Whether that was intuition or a power of his very own, the scotsman would not be able to tell. And that was where he had the upper hand.

"Well, let's just say...I've seen that look before," he whispered, leaning forward a little. He was close now, close enough that the other could probably smell his cologne, the musk and amber mixed with something dark and magical; the sweet mint on his fresh breath strengthened by the gum tucked against his molars. Teeth gleamed bright white as a grin slithered across his expression.

"So few people can appreciate my show, can see the way you see! Children have their imagination and that's wonderful, but you?!" A low chuckle. "Oho, you! You're like me! You've seen what real magic is and you know the beauty of it, the power behind it!" His words were convincing, playing on the emotions he sensed from the other, the reactions he had noted during the performance under the bigtop.

"You said so yourself, didn't you? My show seemed to defy reality. I'll let you in on a little secret..." He leaned closer, a hand resting on Richard's shoulder.

"That's because it does."

'Richard.' The Scotsman could feel the hairs on the back of his neck and arm stand up right when Demetrius uttered his name. There was just something in his voice. In the cadence of his words. Was it a shiver of fear Richard felt? Surely not. Perhaps, it was that of adrenaline. Unabashed curiosity. "Fortune?" Richard let out a soft chuckle as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "I dunno' 'bout tha'. The only fortune I'd be lucky to find is the promise of a new job." Since his return, the Scotsman had finally decided to cut all ties with his old life. From his now ex-fiancee, his friends, and even the dead end job that never brought him an ounce of joy. There was a lightness to his separation, and he still had enough to get by, but, of course, the weighted palm of reality would incessantly press upon his chest from time to time.

Suddenly, as the ringmaster continued to speak, Richard's boyish smile began to gradually fade into uncertainty. He could feel his throat run dry. "I-... I dunno' wha' yer'..." His lips drew into a tight line. On one hand, it would make sense to lie. After all, Richard didn't truly know who Demetrius was. Who's to say that this man before him would believe such stories. Then again, the ringmaster's talk of bending time and altering worlds made Richard think otherwise. ".... How can ye' tell?" he rasped, his rounded, blue eyes brimming with inquisition now.