#leg is watching la pluie

[malepresentingleg]

started watching la pluie and i mean, are they at all going to acknowledge the existence of normal Deaf and HoH folk????

[rozie-gray]

Circus Of Fools

Chapter 1: Titania

It was June 15, 1933, on a humid Saturday in the city of _________, England that the circus came to town. The citizens gathered around the city square to take a peek at the exotic oddities and attractions.

Eliza Musgrave, a little girl of seven, was walking on the city streets. She wore a red pinafore dress and ribbons of the same color, set on her curly brown hair. She had a large swirly lollipop in one hand and a balloon in the other. She came to venture into the circus, out of boredom, in hopes of seeing the fun and wondrous things.

But her parents did not know that she left the house when no one was looking.

It was before long that the streets became flooded with people. They stood by the side of the road as a circus wagon crossed by, followed by a troupe of performers. Tall clowns, colorful harlequins, and other attractions caught the audience’s eye. They were all scattering flyers and confetti to the crowd.

However, the ones that stole the spotlight, are the circus freaks.

Bearded ladies, tattooed men, deformed bodies, and broken minds, captured the attention of every passerby. An old man who is covered in scales like a croc, a diva wearing a blindfold with goat legs like that of a satyr, a clown with two painted faces, and many more. The people laughed and mocked the performers, but they didn’t seem to mind the flurry of insults thrown at them.

They seem to be… happy?

They were smiling amidst the jeering crowd. They looked onward with bright eyes and kept marching on.

Eliza was amazed as she picked up a flyer. It was painted in bright colors, bold letters, and fancy designs that pleased the eye. While she was engrossed in it, a performer passed by her field of vision. She immediately looked up and saw a twin-headed blonde, clothed in a yellow and orange diamond-checkered clown attire, beckoning her to follow them.

She followed while dropping all the things she was holding in the process. Along the winding roads and streets did she walk, and she eventually reached their destination; the Circus of Fools.

It’s all colorful and festive. The main tent is painted bright red and yellow, there are multicolored stalls that sold food in colored paper bags, game booths that gave out wondrous prizes, and sideshow attractions like magic acts and freak shows.

It all amazed little Eliza. The splendor of the circus filled her heart with joy.

And to the man who was watching her.

She peeked into one of the sideshow tents. Inside, she saw the goat-legged diva from earlier.

She stood on a dark, curtain-covered stage with a single spotlight shining on her. She donned a black dress, adorned with dark blue flowers and laced with teal ribbons. A black ornate blindfold covered her eyes, and it appeared to be wet.

The diva had a beautiful voice, clear as crystal and pure as a brook, she sang a wonderful song that Eliza nor the audience could understand. But something felt off, Eliza felt it. There was a hint of sadness that can be heard in the singer’s voice.

*********************

Je m'appelle Margherita.

La diva des perdus.

Écoutez mon récit de malheurs,

pourquoi mes larmes ont coulé.

La fille d'un commerçant,

qui s'est écarté de son chemin,

un jour, il est venu au cirque.

Elle a entendu une dame,

chanter si calmement

alors qu'elle sentait la pluie brûlante.

Elle regardait avec horreur,

alors que les lumières s'affaiblissaient,

jusqu'à ce qu'il la trouve.

La potion du maître de cérémonie,

un mélange de douleur et de feu,

a été renversé dans ses yeux,

et cela l'a fait pleurer.

Il l'a volée,

fait avec ses jambes,

a ensuite remplacé celle d'une chèvre.

Elle va maintenant nous rejoindre,

la mascarade maudite

avec le Diable qui l'a laissée mutilée.

Forcée de chanter,

forcé à danser,

avec les pattes crochues d'une bête.

Voici cette chanson, pour tous ceux qui l'entendent.

Le plaidoyer d'une âme pitoyable.

Jusqu'à ce que nous dépérissions,

nous verrons la lumière du jour.

****************

This song did she sing, captivated them all. The audience, enthralled by the voice of the dame, never cared for the words but cheered as she disappeared from the stage. Eliza was about to leave when the twin-headed blonde popped their heads underneath the velvet curtains.

She could see them clearly now under the spotlight. One head is that of a girl’s, grinning mischievously; the other is a boy’s, frowning in sorrow.

“C’mere with us, luv,” the girl beckoned. “Come with us if you want to see more of what we have to offer. You might even want to stay.”

“Don’t listen to her,” spoke the boy. “Leave us and return to your loved ones before he finds you.”

The sister clobbered her twin on the head, silencing him. Before the brother could speak again, they vanished underneath the heavy velvet curtains.

Curious about what the twins have said, she followed them as she did before. Pushing through the velvet, she found herself outside the tent. Confused about where they’ve gone, Eliza aimlessly wandered the circus grounds. It was already dusk, where the last rays of the sun are slowly waning, and the full moon is steadily shining.

She stumbled upon another tent. It seems to be closed.

But that didn’t stop her from looking at the hole. There was a hole in the tent’s canvas, enough for her to squeeze in.

She crawled in…

And was met with a horrifying sight. A corpse was hanging from the rafters with a rope wrung around its neck. A stool was inches away from the body as if it was kicked off and an empty bottle of acid was found under it. The tent reeked of burnt flesh and hair, it clung to the rough cloth of the tent and the clothes of the dead clown.

Before she could even scream, a pair of gloved heavy hands sprouted from the dark. One hand held a rag that was doused in chloroform and pressed against her nose while the other hand held her body tightly.

Before her vision fades, she saw her captor. A large man dressed like a ringmaster, grinning at her with malicious intent. Then everything went dark before the burning rain fell.

********************

A week passed by ever since that fateful night.

There was a new attraction that was to be unveiled in the circus. The posters of the upcoming event obscured a missing person’s flyer and the shouts of the performers drowned out the worries of two people.

Hundreds of curious watchers gathered in front of the new sideshow’s tent. The twin-headed clown was selling tickets out the front while the people clamored for seats. The show was about to begin.

The ringmaster, a stout man in a red suit and black top hat with a gold monocle on his eye, made his entrance.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he announced. “We have a new show for you all tonight! Avert your eyes if you can’t handle the horror, I give you…”

Drumroll plays as the audience held their breath.

“No Face!”

The curtains were drawn as they all cheered and jeered. It revealed a man with dark hair. However, his face was literally blank. His face is pale as the moon, he had no eyes or eyelids and his nose is gone aside from the two nostrils like a snake’s. The only thing left untouched was his mouth, and it was grinning.

While the audience was watching, a couple could be seen wandering on the circus grounds. Weary and heartsick for their daughter, they decided to search the circus. They turned the town upside down to find her, but they found not a trace.

The twins caught sight of them. The brother tried walking to them, but the sister stopped him. This time, he fought back and punched his sister’s head and that was enough to knock her out of cold.

He approached the couple. “Excuse me, sir and ma’am.”

The couple turned around. The husband was the first to speak. “Yes?”

“Are you,” the blonde awkwardly asked. “I mean, do you have a daughter by chance?”

“Yes,” the wife immediately replied. “Have you seen our Eliza?” she asked hastily.

“We have, but please forgive me and my sister. We didn’t want to, but we had to. If we don’t, he’ll slaughter us too.”

The twin-headed clown urged them to follow him. The parents could only hope that their precious girl is all and well.

But their hopes were all in vain.

A little girl is singing an upbeat tune of circuses and flowers at the side of the road. Her short brown hair barely covered her face, revealing a large burnt scar on the right side, tattooed with red and yellow flowers. In her left hand was a pouch full of colored dust and a bouquet of white mums and red lycoris.

Their daughter is gone.

[joocin-thebox]

Ophelia took a deep sigh. Leaning against the window and pulling her legs up to confine herself to the space. She never thought farm houses were exactly supportive of window seating, but she figured they weren't that expensive to begin with.

But she was thankful for the shelter, with or without the window seat. An ottoman would have done just fine. She would have sat by the window anyhow. Just watching the rain fall outside.

"What a drag." Maye laughed, leaving the door to the den half open behind her. She was still rubbing her face with the towel the farmer had gave her. "Dae said it was going to rain, but I didn't believe her."

"Farmers are usually right about weather." Ophelia said as Maye joined her in the window seat. "I can't believe I didn't think twice about Dae’vonne's warning."

"Pah," Maye waved a dismissive hand, wiping her neck once more before letting the towel hang over her shoulders. "It doesn't matter. The day is still young. The rain won't last forever."

"Did Dae’vonne say that, or do I need to check your sources again?"

Maye smiled and crossed her legs. But she didn't answer.

"It was lucky the farmer is letting us wait out the rain. Is he a friend of yours?"

"Friend of the family. Friend of Dae." Maye swayed in her seat. "He knows my father more than he knows me. And he has many stories of embarrassment about me."

"More than I do?" Ophelia started to tease.

Maye scoffed, then laughed. "Of course not! You always catch me at bad times anyways. I say watching you eat mud was quite funny today."

"Not when my mother finds out you've brought yourself back to the manor. You know she doesn't like you."

"Who does anymore?" Maye sighed, leaning her back against the window and shutting her eyes. "As long as I still have you, and my friends, I do not really need anyone else."

"What about your family?"

Maye’s soft smile faded slightly, then she pulled her lips to the side. Pulling herself forward and hunching over to groan in annoyance.

"I know you don't like to think about the situation, but surely you care about them too?"

"Évidemment!" Maye sat up quickly, looking a little offended. "You wouldn't understand though. They don't want me anymore."

"Mary," Ophelia sat up.

"You and I both know they think I'm going to make the same mistake Kenneth did. They think I'm dangerous. I'm not dangerous!"

"You could do better to prove that true, you know."

"I don't want your lectures now, Ophelia. Leave me be about my family." She rolled her eyes. "Let's talk about something else."

"Mary,"

"We could sneak off to the barn. Even if it's raining it'll be unoccupied-"

"Mary!"

"Or the overhang." She stood up, leaving the towel in the seat. "Bien que nous devions marcher sous la pluie pour y arriver..." She trailed off.

"I'm not going to let you try to get me to leave. Sit back down. We can talk about something else."

Maye toyed with the scarf around her neck for only a moment before sitting next to Ophelia again. Ophelia scooted closer to her, and they both stared out the window.

"Tell me about the festival last year. I missed it."

"You missed so much." Maye chuckled, her fingers brushing against Ophelia’s. "Janine and Anne made this giant paper coyote. I was surprised it didn't fall apart. And there were different singers. Still nothing your mother would approve of. I wish you could have been there."

"My mother values my education."

"You're done with school. You deserve to be free."

"Free like you?"

"Just like me! Free like us! I would never, ever, say it to them, but... I feel better when I'm with you."

Maye seemed to avoid looking her in the eye. Obsessed with flicking the hem of her sleeve instead. Or picking at the slightly tattered cushion beneath them. "You could just say you love me, you know."

"Ne sois pas grossier." Maye smiled.

"It's okay. It's not that hard to say."

"All of your books make it seem like it's the end of the world." Maye sat up again to lean back.

Ophelia raised an eyebrow at her. "Ansty because you don't want to say it?"

"L'amour... est un mot si fort." Maye shrugged.

"Don't be a child! What are you going to do when we get married, and you have to say you love me?"

"Have to?"

"Yes."

Maye hummed, kicking her shoes off and putting her feet beside Ophelia. And she kept humming, and humming, and humming.

"I say I love you all the time. I've hears you say it to Dae’vonne-"

"That's different! Dae is my friend! We're close. Of course I love her. I love all of my friends."

"We're friends."

"Ha! S'te plaît. At this point, friends is selling us short. We are... comp- hm. Companions? Yes? That is how they say it?"

"Mhm."

"Partners in crime. There are things I'd ask you to do way before I ask Dae. Not to mention she will have my head for most of them."

"But I get to be your accomplice?"

"Well, we will accomplice much together."

"Personally, I won't join you in any crime if you can't declare your undying love for me to the guards as they take us away."

"I do not get caught. If they catch me they kill me."

"I'm joking, Mary."

"Still, they probably wouldn't catch you either. You are a master at the sword."

"And you still have much to learn at the sword."

"Are you making fun of me? I can have you back out in the rain."

"You're so serious!" Ophelia laughed.

"I am great at the sword. I'll prove it to you."

"I'm not going back out in that weather! It's getting worse!" Ophelia protested, but Maye was already out of her seat. Again.

"La pluie n'arrête pas un Allwood!" She picked up her discarded shoes and swung open the door. "Nous nous battons! Nous nous battons! Nous nous battons!"

"And... there she goes, chanting through the farm house." Ophelia mumbled. She really didn't have much of a choice, Maye would stand outside forever waiting for Ophelia to join her. She might as well get a little sparring in while the storm was easing up.

The farmer would let them know if they needed to come back in or not.

[moa-broke-me]

I can't stop thinking about this so I made a lil drabble

I watched as Jason placed his hand on the boy's forehead. "Merde… Fièvre. Percy, go see if we have any ibuprofen."

I nodded, grabbing a bottle from the medicine cabinet. "Who is he?"

"Our cousin." He turned back to the boy, gently shaking his arm. "Nico? Réveille-toi, mon chère."

Nico's eyes fluttered open. "Cosa... Jason?" He shook his head. I noted his accent, unmistakably Italian. "Jason, que s'est-il passé?"

"Vous êtes arrivé à ma porte sous la pluie, puis vous vous êtes évanoui sur le pas de la porte. Je devais t'attraper avant que tu te cognes la tête, puis je t'ai allongé sur le canapé pour que tu sois plus à l'aise."

Nico sighed and smiled. "... Vous me gâtez..."

"Comment ne pourais-je pas? Tu es mon petit cousin, après tout. Laisse-moi te préparer de la soupe et un verre pour tes pilules." Jason looked up at me. "You, go get the first aid kit. He's got some cuts on his legs."

I nodded and went to the bathroom, reaching under the sink for the kit. As I stood back up, I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror.

I hadn't realized how pained I looked before. But... It made sense.

The kid... Nico... He reminded me of myself, when I was little. All those bruises, all that fear...

I walked out of the bathroom. "C'est ça… Mange, mon chére. Tu es si maigre… " Jason was on his knees, spooning soup into Nico's mouth like a baby.

"Grazie... Jason..." He muttered between spoonfuls and shivers.

Jason brought one of his hands up to rub some warmth into Nico's arm, which was almost completely bare from the ratty black T-shirt he was in. His legs were even worse, only covered with boxer shorts, loose on his fragile, bony hips, and as Jason had told me, bleeding from various cuts and scrapes.

I knelt down next to his matchstick-thin legs, and tried to dab them with rubbing alcohol, but he flinched away. "N-non fer-ferirmi..." He was shaking in fear, and even though I don't know a word of Italian, I somehow understood what he was trying to say.

Don't hurt me.

I wanted to cry for him, I wanted to tell him it would be ok. That I was only trying to help. But... I didn't know how.

I looked to Jason, who sighed. "Nico, chut. Je sais que tu as peur. Mais voici notre cousin, Percy. Il est là pour vous aider."

Nico sniffled. "T-tu es sûr ? Tu lui fais confiance?"

"Je suis sûr. Il ne veut pas de mal, il va te panser. L'alcool va piquer, mais c'est mieux qu'une infection." Jason turned to me. "Percy, go ahead."

I nodded, and wiped his cuts down with alcohol. He squirmed and whimpered and cried, and Jason kept him still, trying to feed him soup as I tended to his wounds. Once I was done, Nico was finishing up the bowl. "Bien… Maintenant, bois. Vous avez de la fièvre, vous devez prendre de l'ibuprofène."

"Une fièvre? Mais… j'ai si froid…"

Jason sighed, and threw a blanket over the boy, thick and woolen. "Est-ce mieux?"

Nico nodded, and sat up, drinking the water Jason got for him, and taking one of the ibuprofen pills.

Jason smiled down at Nico, now looking more at peace, his shattered brown eyes fixed on the fireplace still crackling with embers. "Oh, je devrais…" He muttered to himself, and walked off to our bedroom, leaving Nico and I alone.

I felt so sorry for him. And even though I didn't know more than, maybe, ten words in French, and again, zero in Italian, I knew I had to connect with him somehow.

So I went to the kitchen and cut a slice of the bread I'd made earlier that day. Yeah, it was one of my assignments, but I could just make it again.

I held it out to him in offering, and he looked up at me, almost afraid, before he took it. He began to eat, and smiled a little. "…Buon pane." He muttered to himself.

Ok, that sounded like a compliment. I'll take it.

"Glad you like it. I, um... I made it."

He looked up to me, confused.

"Oh, crap, that's right. You don't speak English."

He seemed to process for a moment, and then shake his head. Must've recognized the word 'English'.

I looked back at the doorway to find Jason had come back, with a pillow tucked under his arm, and a stuffed animal in his other hand. A black cat, specifically. "Oh, Percy t'a acheté du pain, hmm?"

Nico nodded, finishing the last bite.

"Êtes-vous rassasié maintenant ? Il y en a plus si vous en avez besoin."

Nico shook his head. "Je vais bien, grazie."

Jason chuckled to himself. "Vous continuez à mélanger vos langues, je vois." He sighed, and crouched to tuck the pillow under Nico's head, and lay the stuffed animal onto Nico's chest. "Dors bien, chère cousine." His voice was so... Rumbly and soothing, especially in French. He kissed Nico's brow and left him to close his eyes and clutch his stuffed cat.

-

As I laid next to Jason, I looked over at him in curiosity. "... Didn't know you still owned stuffed animals." I teased.

Jason scoffed. "Shut up, it's not mine."

"What, were you just keeping it for him?"

"Yes, actually." He looked over at me. "... He said he didn't feel like a kid anymore, ten years ago. So he gave it to me."

"Oh... Why? What... Happened, ten years ago?"

Jason stiffened. "It's not important. The point is, he needs it now."

I sighed, deciding to drop the topic for now. "Yeah... I'm glad he seems ok now." And with that, I went to sleep.

-

After a few hours, I was awoken by a knock on the door. Jason got up and opened it up, to find Nico, his eyes were pooling with tears, his blanket and pillow and cat all gathered in his arms.

Jason wrapped his arms around the boy in an instant. "As-tu fait un cauchemar?"

Nico sniffled, and nodded, and I sprang to my feet, standing nervously over him, just letting him know I'm here.

I had a funny feeling what happened.

He had a night terror.

I held my arms out, and he flung himself into them, Jason joining in almost instantly. No words, just a silent understanding that we were there for him, no matter what.

"Veux-tu dormir dans notre lit ce soir, mon chere?" Jason asked gently. Nico nodded a little, and Jason guided him to our bed. "You don't mind, do you Percy?" He asked.

I shook my head. "Let's just go to bed. It's been a rough night, for him especially."

(@mira-nicodiangelo-grey I'm probably gonna do a part 2 but not for a while)

TW for incest!

Jercico mortal AU where Percy gets a scholarship to french pastry school and he's BEYOND stoked but he can't afford a place to live so he has to stay with his rich cousin Jason (who was born in LA but grew up in France because his mom moved there so she could be closer to his and his sister's father (it didn't work btw)) who thankfully knows both French and English so he can translate for Percy because he doesn't know the language at all hardly. So he's moved in, barely 18 while Jason's 20, they're kinda starting to fall in love with each other a bit which feels weird bc y'know; incest.

And then Nico shows up at their doorstep, 16 years old and 80 pounds soaking wet (and he IS soaking wet, having come all this way in the rain), and Percy doesn't know who the fuck this guy is but Jason welcomes him in immediately, picking him up and carrying him to the couch when he notices the wobble in his legs, and he doesn't know English, literally at all, and only knows enough French to communicate with Jason.

He explains to Jason that his mom and big sister both died years ago, when he was very small, and his father fell into a depression too deep to take care of him, so he called up Minos (his godfather) to take him in for a while, but Minos has been horrifically abusive, so he came all the way up from Italy so he could find Jason and stay with him.

Percy looks over at this kid, who looks, for all the world, like a drowned kitten, and immediately takes pity on him. He doesn't understand what Nico's saying, but he's crying, and shaking, still wet from the rain, skin and bones with bruises all over him. He and Jason do everything they can to make him feel comfortable, they make him soup and give him blankets and make sure he's not sick, they let him sleep in the bed with them to ensure he's warm.

Because he'd know that fear in his eyes anywhere. He'd know what it means, when the very mention of someone makes you flinch. He's been there. And though Nico's been through a lo of rough shit, at least now, he has two big, strong, protective... Attractive... Cousins, who would go to the ends of the earth for him.

[breannacasey]

Season Tag

I was tagged by @oneawkwardcookie

Rules: Answer the 12 questions & tag 5 other peope!

What is your favorite season? Autumn. It’s still nice enough that you can enjoy doing things outside, but without it being too warm. And the clothes are already much better and it’s comfortable. And there’s rain and wind. And it’s so beautiful with all the colours in the trees. And there are all those seasonal produce. Like squashes to make potages with, and you can go pick apples.

In Marie-Tempête by Dominique Demers, one of my favourite books, there’s this quote “J’ai toujours aimé l’automne. À cause des grands vents qui hurlent et qui secouent tout. L’automne n’est pas une saison morte. C’est plein de vie, de furie. Mais c’est aussi une saison qui nous berce pendant de longs moments. Au ralenti. En silence. Quand la pluie cesse et que les vents s’apaisent.” which I’ve always vibed with. (quick, rough translation: I’ve always loved fall. Because of the big winds howling and shaking everything. Fall isn’t a dead season. It is full of life, of fury. But it’s also a season that rocks us for long moments. In slow motion. In silence. When the rain stops and the winds calm down.)  

Do you prefer warmer or colder weather? Colder. When it gets above 25, I get miserable.

What do you do on a rainy day? I love writing by my open window, or watching a movie, or reading. All cuddled up in blankets, maybe with tea or hot chocolate.

How is a typical winter where you live? Cold or not? Cold, yes. Some days it is colder here than in Antarctica, though during winter here it’s summer down there. There’s plenty of snow, which is very pretty. I love the glow of light reflected on it at night. Nights are brighter in the winter and I love it. We get that annoying freezing rain that takes forever to scrape off your car. Sometimes the wind is so cold, it feels like you can’t breathe. And so much time goes into getting the snow out of the way. Most people have a love/hate relationship with it, usually by February we all start getting sick of it. And then by July, I already miss it.

Have you ever experienced snow? I have walked through knee high snow to get to my car in the parking lot then spent 15-20 minutes getting snow off of it and out of the way on more than one occasion. Which sounds bad, but as long as there’s no ice, it’s bearable. I have spent close to 45 minutes after a long day scraping an inch of ice off my car that sucks, so when it’s just snow and no ice, it’s good. I have made so many snow forts as a kid. And the usual walk to school where you should be walking in the street, but walking on the snow banks covering the sidewalk is an adventure and so much more fun. Until you leg slips too far down and your boot stays stuck in it and you’re standing on one leg trying to retrieve it.

True or false? “I LOVE RAIN!” True. Except in winter, of course. But most of the year, I absolutely love it.

What is your go to food in the summer? Anything easy, like salad, hot dogs, burgers. I absolutely love skewers. And corn is great too. And strawberries, raspberries and blueberries with cream is the perfect dessert. And when rhubarb is in season, crumble. I’ll also put berries in it, since they’re usually in season at the same time.

What is your favorite ice cream flavour? Chocolate. I’m basic. I prefer twist when I get it covered with chocolate though.

Coffee, tea or cocoa? Coffee. Though I also love tea, can’t finish dinner without some black tea. And hot chocolate is a nice treat on winter or rainy nights.

Describe your favorite seasonal clothing item! Knit sweaters. I have an oversized cream coloured one that is just so soft and cozy. And with the amount of scarves and hats I own I guess I should mention that.

What is your favorite Holiday? I don’t really have one. I guess St-Jean-Baptiste, which is my province’s national holiday. Mainly because it’s more celebrated with friends than family. And it’s barbecue season so that’s nice. It’s what we did this year with my friends, a social distancing barbecue. And then sometimes a fire later at night. In high school, I would go camping with my family and another family at that time of year. So it was fun to be around the fire, making sausages and marshmallows and hearing the fireworks from afar.

If you were a season, which one would you be? Autumn. 

I tag @officerrxyes @yesimweirdgetusedtoit @terramous @brilliantbanshee @luna-colorata