Nuit la plus sombre est là ...

The blood red and black big top stood at the very back of the fairgrounds, where there were only woods beyond. The train tracks were east of the gloomy entrance, and a river flowed to the west. The standards flapped in the wind, blood red and black like the big top, and Schuyler saw Daniel, an acrobat, changing them. Every Sombre knew what the changing patterns meant, since they were two, and the way they were placed now meant that tonight was a Nuit de la Plus Sombre. The highest paying customers came to see the Sombres best show. Siberio found the strangest music he could to set the mood and Let’s Kill Tonight by Panic! At The Disco blared from the speakers set on top of well-placed poles; Les Aveugles walked toward the big top slowly, looking around, not knowing what to expect. None of them had ever seen anything like this, let alone a circus, and sometimes an unfortunate few would never see the world outside the circus again.

“Monsieur Loyal,” said Daniel, bowing low as Siberio passed. The ringmaster’s lip curled in distaste as the man slid down a support pole; Daniel was not yet in costume.

"You were supposed to be ready," Siberio snarled.

"I was fixing the flags, Aaron told me-"

"You think I care? Go. And be quick with it."

Daniel flinched, expecting the cruel man to use more than words, but luckily he was in a good mood today.

"Oui, Monsieur Loyal." the acrobat ran off to the costume tent as Schuyler tried to hide behind a light pole.

"Grey."

she cursed softly under her breath and stepped out into the open, bowing to him.

"Maitre."

"Where is your costume?"

Schuyler squeezed her knuckles, afraid and ashamed of it, even though every Sombre had a very good excuse to be afraid. She bit her lip and tried to think fast, to find a good excuse, but she knew there were no excuses. I don't go on for another two hours, I can't find it, it's stained, one of Sasha's tigers tore it up. All would get her beat at some point, because everything was always by default caused by her.

"I was going to get it right now Maitre," Schuyler said weakly, hoping desperately that the ringmaster's good mood would last until later.

 His spindly little mustache twitched, but he turned on his heel and started barking loud orders the way only circus people can.

Schuyler's eyes widened and she faded out to the costume tent, scarcely able to breathe.

***

                que le spectacle commence ... 

It was not very spacious where the lower class Sombres had to wait to go on, and the heavy curtains trapped the air in the small space, but Schuyler got lucky. Sometimes she and Jaqueline were put behind the same curtain, and it was her best chance to hold her for a good, long time. So Schuyler sat on the edge of a crate with Jaqueline behind her.

"I told you I got Gribouilleur to put us together," said Jaqueline, wrapping her arms lazily around Schuyler's neck.

"What did you have to do for it?" Schuyler asked warily. Gribouilleur, or Scribbler in english, was a disgusting and lonely man. He organized shows and travels and could always be seen scribbling madly on his little clipboard.

"I owe him one; apparently that's it." She yawned and pressed her face to Schuyler's tattooed neck. She smelled so good before a show, but Jaqueline knew that Siberio forced her to wear that perfume. You could smell it from the nosebleed perches, and if everyone else's reaction was the same as Jaq's, then making her wear it was a smart business move.

"That's it , for now." Schuyler growled from deep in her chest. She didn't like making deals with Gribouilluer herself, but it just made her mad when Jaq did -- no matter how much she longed to see her.

"Shhhh, I'll be fine. Show me what you're doing today."

Schuyler was not only the tattoo lady in the freakshow, but she was the Enchanteresse in the circus show. She totally relied on her punk cabaret costumes and voice to woo the crowd, and most of the time she did so without a problem. She didn't even need the flute player once she got them all under her spell.

Schuyler pressed her lips lightly to Jaueline's temple and hummed the first few notes of the song she was supposed to sing, a transposed version of Kenny Loggins' All The Pretty Little Ponies.

"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleep, my little baby. When you wake, you shall have, all the pretty little ponies."

Schuyler thought Jaq was about to fall asleep on her shoulder when the curtain opened slightly. The opening music to her song was playing, making the rowdy crowd quiet down just to see what was going on.

Siberio stepped from the shadows, a dark look on his almost handsome face. He wore some stage makeup, and his jet black hair fanned out from underneath his black top hat, but the hat and makeup were the only things about him that resembled a normal ringmaster. Siberio's costume's usually showed a lot of skin, and today he wore an open leather vest and skin tight leather pants. His biker boots made no sound on the dirt, and he walked in complete silence to the center of the ring, even though there were many metal chains and rings attatched to his clothes.

"You have seen the gruesome, the horrible. You have felt the fear, the cold, and the heat. You have touched your worst nightmares, and found terror in your dreams." Siberio spoke in a very quiet voice that everyone could still hear over the flute and guitar; an age-old circus trick. He was, after all, the Maitre Magicien, with hundreds of dark tricks up his sleeve.

"You have heard the twisted laughter and screams-"

Schuyler kissed Jaq quickly and faded out into the ring, focusing on the big, showy column of black smoke.

"-but you have not heard the Enchanteresse..."