Rubiah was excited. It had been years since she had gone to something like this. Longer since she had attended one that was good. She had seen a few dancers and acrobats in Alexandria that had been alright and flicked them a few coins, but the last true circus performance or troupe theatrical that she had attended had turned out to be more orgy than it was theatre. Sure, she had participated and enjoyed it all, but it wasn't exactly what she had been expecting. She had wanted performing monkeys, not hungry beavers.

Upon her arrival at the site grounds of the Tempest of Set, her fears for a repeat performance flared for a moment at the site of some of their acrobats moving towards the main tent. They wore hardly nothing and had been painted like harlots in the face. She had worried for a second that they were the paid talent at this little get together but quickly realised their true occupation as they dusted their hands together and little plumes of white chalk sparked into the air.

Well, at least those ones were real performers. It was a good start.

Being jostled by the crowd as she watched the tents and awnings, Rubiah bit her lip and tried not to complain too loudly. It was shit like that that got you kicked out of places. So, no matter how much she wanted to elbow the guy with the oversized gut or complained about miss spiky on her other side, Rubiah did nothing but glare at everyone in her close proximity and try to push them away with the power of her icy stare.

By the time she was within the event and able to actually see some of the scenery, the sheets and affects, she had forgotten about the crowds. Distracted by the smell of animal dung, chalk, paint, fabrics and sweat - not to mention the fried food that had been cooking outside, she spun in a tight circle to look in every direction at thing. It was as she spun back that she bumped into something and heard a yelp.

She turned but saw no-one. It was only when she looked down that an impertinent frown stared back up at her.

"You walked into me!" The little girl who seemed to be no more than four or five years in age was grumpy as she got to her feet and dusted off her hands and bottom. She couldn't have been that hurt because she didn't cry or holler - just complain.

"You were where I walked." Rubiah challenged back, with a sneer on her lip. And then she walked off. She wasn't about to get into an argument with a small child. She didn't have time for that shit.

Unfortunately, the fates decided that that was exactly what she should have been doing with her time and, when she looked behind her again, the little girl was damn well following her!

"You should apologise!" The child grumbled at her. And Rubiah's brows rose up towards her hairline.

"Kid, where are you parents? Go back to them."

"You should apologise when you hurt someone!" The little one insisted, dogging Rubiah's every step, despite her attempts to lose her. Eventually the damn brat wrapped her fingers around the maroon skirt that Rubiah had donned that morning and started to try and tug her to a standstill.

"Get off, insect!" Rubiah hollered, reaching for her skirt and catching the kid under the jaw with the back of her hand. The girl fell backwards onto her butt.

And then she really let loose with the tears.

Anastasia didn't like children.

They lacked the knowledge of decorum or, if they did, the sort of self-control to respect it. While loud noises were par for the course in areas of performance like this, the shrill cries of miniature humans was not what she signed up for. She did her utmost to hide the scowl, the sympathy for the mother lost in the midst of her own distaste for it all. But, she'd never voice it either, which seemed to be the consensus between her and the snake charmer girl. Unlike the snake charmer, Anastasia had no flickering recognition of her, far more engrossed in the windstorm ruining her outfit and the merchant tale that sent her far-flung into the past. No, Anastasia had other things to worry about, and as such, she looked at the girl for what she thought was the first time.

It was strange. Often, she'd find her gaze wandering, particularly with the interesting, painted markings that swept along the breadth of the shorter girl's body. However, she simply wasn't interested. Anastasia's taste in women was rather precise, and finding appeal in someone shorter than her slight stature... It was suffice to say that Ana's gaze did not linger for long. Of course, it didn't matter. Anastasia would never brazenly act on desire even if her attentions were called by this girl. The life of a performer was quick-paced and just as she refused Anastasia's request, it was not unexpected.

Of course. That's what the great show is for, to captivate us.

It was in poor taste for a performer to allow people to get to them. Knowing this from experience, from the heckling of men whistling and grabbing at her body as she moved to the competition of other street buskers in the agoras of Greece. There was a certain amount of disrespect that one had to have the capacity to weather in order to make it in this line of work. Anastasia could respect the smile cast on the snake charmer's face despite the obstacles. Whether or not it was genuine... well, it really didn't matter either way.

Coins were offered to the snake charmer just as Ana had, but the bard hardly paid attention to what Chione was saying to the girl. No, she was caught aflame. How was it that even the barest flicker of Chione's voice could send Ana tumbling, falling into the remembrance of their time together. A quiver moved through her body, one that had the girl instinctively biting her lip before she righted her posture and shifted the expression to an easy smile. She didn't quite look at Chione yet, either. Their gazes remained averted, an effort to cover over the prospect of a shared look between the two of them that might cause a ripple effect.

Danger exuded from the allure that was Chione H'Isazari, and just as the thought crossed her mind, her lover spoke the words as if she plucked them out of her very mind. They were dual-meaning, a sort of commentary about the snake charmer's line of work, but also a direct allusion to Chione and Anastasia themselves. The chuckle that escaped her lips reverberated through her throat, her eyes visibly filling with mirth, but she said nothing. Chione continued on, the smirk on her lips sent a thrill through the bard's spine. It was undeniable, how the feelings came crashing down again. Anastasia found herself smitten by this woman and it was everything she could do to have the self-control not to turn her towards Ana and kiss her right in front of the snake charmer.

Calm down.

It was a thought in vain.

Stop.

She couldn't.

Anastasia mustered up words after a long moment, finally turning her gaze towards Chione. She offered a chaste embrace to her lover, intent on placing the guise of simple friendship between them even as their proximity elicited a flare of heat that worked through the core of her body.

"It's true. I'm certain that it's one of the appeals of choosing that performance medium. Oh, lady Chione. The show is beginning soon. If no one is joining you, perhaps the two of us should sit together?"

While she was glad Khufu was quick to herd them away from the performer, Kahi couldn't help but throw one last look at the irate performer, wondering briefly if they would see her later, before turning her attention to the array of wines available. Trust Khufu to notice her eyes had been wandering in this direction, and the woman couldn't help but flash a wry smile in the merchant's direction at her husband's comment. "To his credit, he helps. But he's the reason we have four children to begin with." Kahi retorted good-naturedly. It was no secret Khufu wanted as many children as they could manage... but with four now, Kahi was beginning to wonder if she was at her limit. Her shoulders already ached from carrying a sleeping Astekhu all day while trying to herd the rest of her rowdy offspring.

Thanking the merchant kindly, her smile was soft as the three who received the spice cake looked positively delighted. As much as Kahi complained about the amount of work it took raising four children, the woman truly did want to see her children happy as often as possible, which was why she did her best to curb her sharp tongue.

Taking her eyes briefly off the kids, Kahi's attention turned to the merchant's answer as she sipped the wine, gleeful at the sourish tang of the liquid flooding her senses. Kahi found herself quite attracted by the story the merchant told. She had travelled far herself, at a young age, when she had wanted to get to Khufu way back when they had first gotten together. Kahi being born of Judean origin, had pretty much forsaken her family to be with her husband now, and although she didn't regret her decision at all, she also found herself curious if the lands she had seen and traversed in those days had changed.

Intending to ask a question, Kahi had leaned forward when a loud cry from a voice she knew far too well had her whipping her head around, and then swallowing a groan when she saw Tef-Amun glaring indignantly at a woman three times her age likely. Her daughter was stubborn to a fault, with an egoistical streak that matched her brothers. Brothers who, by the way, quickly ran over the moment they saw their sister in trouble, spice cakes forgotten. The grubby fingers of Djoser and Neferu joined Tef-Amun's in being wrapped around the maroon skirt, and Kahi almost wanted to hide her face.

Until she cried.

"She can be annoying when she wants to be." Kahi bit out under her breathe, knowing how dogged her only daughter could be, rolling her eyes before picking up her skirts and marching over to where the two boys was now glaring indignantly at the woman for shoving their sister over. Neferu was clearly about to say something, but before her eldest could get a word in, Kahi had stepped in front of her son, indignantly sizing the otehr woman up and down, before signaling for Neferu to bring his siblings back to their father.

"I'm sure whatever it was, it didn't necessitate you making a young child cry." Kahi bit out, every bit of the firecracker young woman coming to surface.

There was no missing the multitude of smiles on the faces of his patrons. Amenemhat did his utmost to drive a good show, to solicit the sort of amusement and intrigue that pulled coins out of pockets. But, he was loathe to remain in place for long. The circus was a well-oiled machine, one that required his hand to prod all of the workers in the right direction. After all, profit didn't run on half-baked efforts and wasted time. No, these fuckers needed to get into position and make him so goddamned money. The mask wilted away once the trap drew back into place and obscured the ringmaster from site. Amber orbs sought to follow the path of the cage, shaking his head in irritation.

With a click of his tongue, he jabbed at the leading slave's shoulder before pointing up towards the tarp's ceiling.

"Here? The cage doesn't go this far in. Take it back."

The nod of acknowledgement and hurried, if staggered effort that followed was all he needed to get to something else. There were other people that watched the slaves, but with fifteen of them working in tandem and all of the minutia of their particular efforts... It was unmitigated chaos.

"Come on, people. Get into position, secure your props. We don't have all fucking night and I'm sure you degenerates plan on getting drunk," he said, ushering along the Liu sisters. As if all of them are sober. Hamidi shifted his attention over to the slaves. Always so efficient, that one. He appreciated that in a lackey. There were a few more that needed a proper eye on. He'd shoved Zephyra and Aelius together several months back, intent on giving the knife thrower some time in the limelight to acclimate her to it all. Aelius could be trusted, after all, to lead another, younger performer along the way to greatness.

They live to serve, he thought of the members of the circus' inner circle. Sworn to fealty and given over to the cause, they were among the few who needed not constant surveillance. Most of the time, anyway.

"It's your time to shine," he said to the blade dancer. Mentoring a newer circus member was one of many tasks set to those beneath his banner, but this one might prove more challenging than most. Quiet, isolated, Zephyra was a concern to him that he wished to make into something more.

We'll see what we can make of you, he thought, a moment's conflict before he passed himself along. The ringmaster watched as the Clique acrobats stretched, pulling at each other's arms or locked in splits on the floor together.

"Drummers! Begin," he said simply. The thunder of the drums continued anew, signalling a countdown for curtain call.

"Zein, Delia. You're up first," he'd say before he moved to the tarp that held the tent closed. "Open it," he'd command a slave before shooing himself to back stage. It was his prerogative to ensure a successful performance.

"Enter, enter!" a slave girl sang out, prodding at arms. Sly fingers sought to slip into unsuspecting pockets as she made his way through the crowd, singing her siren's call.

It was a rare moment, of late, that Skylla was actually able to get away from the Evening Star Palace. Her place was beside the queen, but after a long stretch of days being attached to her hip, she had been given reprieve and the ability to go about and do whatever she please, so long as she told the queen her general vicinity. With the circus in Cairo, Skylla's knee-jerk reaction was to go and see the show for herself. Dressed in the finery afforded to her by the palace, a fine kalisaris of inky black, with the regalia of the royal family upon her person, and hair done up in a very intricate greecian style, Skylla was sporting the looks of both her ethnicities in one.

With the dramatic makeup that she had long taken a liking to over the years, Skylla was as pretty as she was striking. But it was her job to make a good impression of the royal family, was it not? If they appeared to treat one of their physicians well, did that not fair well for the family name? Did people not see them as genuine and heartfelt hosts and employers? Though Skylla's situation was tenuous at best, being allowed to live and being given a stipend and steady payment was more than generous. Though she had her own doubts in the Pharaoh and the Dowager Queen, she would not betray their silent insistance in trust in her to set a good example.

How tiring it was to play the sweet, soft-spoken physician who cared about everyone and everything. But most of all, the Queen herself. Skylla would have rather not been parted from the young royal, but her hand had been forced and thus she was pushed deep into her own thoughts as she picked her way down into the Port of Cairo. The tents of the Tempest of Set were stunning, to say the very least, but it was the market stalls and the merchants that lined the way that had Skylla's eyes straying for any sort of distraction at all.

What she had not expected was to pay witness to the sight of Callidora of Almosis. The vibrancy of her hair, the softness of her skin. For a moment, Skylla could still taste her skin on her tongue and immediately tore her gaze in another direction in desperate need of a sudden distraction before she found herself more trouble than the last time that the two of them had been together.

...only for her gaze to land on Kesi of Alexandria.

Fuck her to Hades, this was a mistake of the greatest caliber.

Immediately, Skylla was gritting her teeth sharply together, trying to keep her serene expression and deciding that Callidora was the lesser of two evils that would haunt her for the rest of her days. So she turned her body toward Dora's stall and approached the corner, fingering a few of the wares so that maybe Kesi would not lock onto her scent like the rabid Cerberus she had proven herself to be in the past. It was only when the crying of a child caught her attention, her attention snapping sharply in the direction of the crying girl. The mother and brother stepped in, and Skylla found herself stepping away from the stall, her dark glare fixed on the face of the rude woman that had struck the child to begin with.

She desperately wanted to say something to Rubiah, but decided that it wasn't worth the fight with the other woman. Her expression was irritated, but she turned her dark eyes on Kahi. "I am a physician. May I take a look at her face?" she asked in a tone that was quiet and meant to soothe rather than show irritation. This was the best distraction of all from the blue eyes standing behind the stall of goods at her back.

The absolute best. Because maybe she could disappear into the tents once the show started and shove down the memory of the only admission of love that Skylla had ever made to a person before. Not even Lukos had heard the words she had said for Callidora, and she wasn't sure that she could ever love another the way that Dora had taken her heart. It was best not to think about it and to distract herself with the little humans on tiny legs with little sense of what was right and proper when it came to other people.

Being born with your own living mirror sounded like a wonderful gift from the gods and for Safiya that had by and large been the case, of course, at the same time there was also the struggle to find your own place and purpose as well. However, she was never going to be sad about having Sameera in her life.

"How would I know? I have only heard about how amazing it all is... but I hope they might? What do you think they might have?" she asked, not sure that she should stand as well but she was raising herself up slightly, trying not to give in to the same full-on kind of excitement as her sister was. Not that Safiya held out a lot of hope about being successful, she had always been more willing to do whatever her heart encouraged her to do.

That was why a moment or so after that determination had come to her she ended up standing and trying to search out some more details of what was going to happen next "Can you see anything yet?" she asked, straining for any sign but finding it hard not to be distracted with some other delight of colour and sound, even the other members of the audience were an appealing and intriguing element of all of this.

She really couldn't find anything in her own experiences that could compare to this and so she was lost in the wonder of the moment.

The moments before the show were always some of Zein’s favorite. It was the calm before the storm, but also when his mind was the most active. When he was performing, his mind went to another level. He was able to take in everything at once, but also concentrate wholly on his performance. During that time, there was nothing he would rather be doing. For the majority of his life, he had been performing alone, but since joining the Tempest of Set last year, he had done more work with others. It had been both challenging and exhilarating. There was nothing Zein found more exciting than the giant crowds the circus seemed to draw and the performance with others.

He had done many performances with Delia over the past few months, their talents intersecting in a way that the crowds seemed to enjoy. They had spent a great deal of time practicing before they had performed together, but when they did, they were electric. Zein had only performed with one other person before and their chemistry was what made their performances so special. And profitable. Of course, now, profit was less of a concern with the circus. Zein could be comforted by the fact that he would always have some level of income and, even better, could be seen by many. His dreams were slowly coming true.

Today, his performance with Delia was going to be something they had never done before. It was daring, but it was true to the both of them. They would be working with lit hoops and swords. Simultaneously. This was one of their more complicated dances, but they had been working on it for some time. They were ready. Zein could already feel the adrenaline coursing through his body as the performance neared.

Zein collected the hoops and swords in his hands, the fire already burning inside the ring. That would be for later. He gave Delia a smile as she approached. He was all about the show now, serious, but not so serious that he could not have fun. However, her safety was something he valued and it was not to be taken lightly.

Nem approached, sending them off and Zein gave Delia a nod, “Ready?”

Delia always felt electric prior to a show, like every nerve ending in her body was being sliced over and over, like fire was bubbling beneath her skin. She especially enjoyed performing alongside Zein. The two of them worked well on-stage; good chemistry led to even better shows, in her opinion. And he wasn’t afraid of fire. If only her eye wasn’t elsewhere, and his were not so wandering, Zein might stand a chance with the den-mother.

To prepare for the performance she had spent most of her time getting dressed, she’d settled on a short skirt, and had gotten a slave to paint her torso, they’d taken great care to paint a phoenix, starting at her hips and over her breasts. Her back had been painted, to show the phoenix’s wings.

The only good thing about the body paint was that it covered the only scar she cared about showing. And today’s style had given her ideas for a tattoo—might as well cover the scar permanently and completely let go of her past.

When Nem called for her and Zein, she had just finished settling an orange strip of fabric through her hair as a headband, and dipping her hair in water, so it would be less likely to catch on fire. Tonight’s performance was dangerous, they’d opted not to practice.

Why practice when they were obviously the best? She’d worked with Zein more than enough to trust him. And every burn scar she sported on her body was worn with pride; she’d earned those scars worshipping the fire, and she was proud of that. What would one more scar be than another mark of pride?

“When haven’t I been ready, Zein?” She bumped her hip against his, “Why so serious? The worst you’ll do is maim me forever.” She snorted, offering her arm for him to take. They’d enter the ring together, and they’d leave the ring together.

Zein shot back a grin, rolling his shoulders and loosening up a bit. “And you’ll only be prettier for it,” he remarked in his usual flirty banter. They had a familiar back and forth that never seemed to go anywhere, but was enjoyable for each of them. Well, at least for Zein. But Delia never complained, so he didn’t stop. It was a fun game.

Just as their performance would be. As the openers, they would have to impress. That was exactly what they had in mind. Zein’s performance grin came easily as their names were announced and they entered the ring. He held his hands high, displaying several hoops in one hand and swords in the other. For now, they remained unlit, not that the audience would know that fire was what they had planned.

He began a simple juggle, throwing the hoops through the air, then passing the swords through so that it was a swirling dance of blades and rings. For the moment, Zein's antics with the hoops and blades were the star of the show. Delia was twirling, barefoot, dancing as if she were off in her own little world. She was keeping an eye on Zein, but to the audience, she looked completely disjointed, like she didn't quite belong up on the stage with him.

Their performance came together quickly, as he suddenly tossed a hoop Delia’s way for her to snake her body through. Her dive was graceful, wooing the audience as she made her way through the hoop before returning it to Zein in a high arc. He easily incorporated it back into his juggling, next tossing a sword her way. Their exchange began slowly so that the audience could see what it was they were doing, but quickly sped up with Zein tossing the hoop and sword in quick succession so that Delia would have to jump through the hoop and catch the sword at the same time. They made their way around the ring, captivating the audience with their skill.

Little did the crowd know, these two were just warming up.


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Written in collaboration with Ivy/@delia