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By God's Grace [Iran/Private?]

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Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK Thu Mar 10, 2011 8:51 pm

This would certainly be the best time to pray. It was night, not late night, but the sun was down. Arash had not done his maghrib prayer yet. He planned to combine that and the Isha'a prayer. That was what he normally did. Ever since Arash had left his home, a feeling of stronger devotion had overcome him. Even though he was doomed for hell, even though he knew he would not be forgaven, he still wanted to try. Business was winding down, it was closing hours and most people were gone. Arash got out of his caravan, holding his particularly beautiful prayer rug, prayer beads and turbah. He tried to remind his brother to come pray, but Faraz was still angry. He was a brat, and he was difficult to talk to. He was too stubborn for anything.

The young Shiite had a specific prayer site. It was hidden somewhere away and somewhere moderatly clean. However, Arash could not go directly to it. He had to go cleanse himself, to do wudu. Arash did not want to go to the bathroom. That was a dirty place. There was some small water faucet that was slightly out of the way. There was still a small crowd of people who were on their way, and then some other carnies who were walking around, packing up for the day, socializing, something like that. Arash's eyes flickered over to a few of the people. There was nobody really notable...

Wait-, wait- It couldn't be...

His hazel eyes grew wide. It was. It was the girl from Mistique! The pretty girl who gave Arash her robe. He didn't know how to feel. Did she come for her robe? She probably heard that someone had stolen that girl on the same night that Arash, Itakshir and that bastard were out. She probably could figure out that they were from ragtag. Did she come to take the girl back? Arash stopped. He had a reason to speak to her. Her robe. She probably wanted her robe back...

He would walk over to her. He would find some reason to talk to her. She would be so grateful that he had her robe. It would be so nice to have the gratitude of a pretty woman... Arash's mother showed him gratitude. No one else had.

"M-miss-" he called out in thickly accented English. A light tap of his hand went to her shoulder to get her attention. "Miss..."

((Ffff- I'm not sure if this is supposed to be private, BUT RP WITH SHEEEP.))
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Post  Major Glory Thu Mar 10, 2011 9:27 pm

The Ragtags were such a strange combination. The daily rituals of the troupe between setting up tent and diassembling was so hectic, and yet so smooth. It was almost like a living creature, not in the best condition, but functioned well nonetheless. Alex had to admit that she was fairly impressed by the vigor of the Ragtag employees. Everyone was so at ease and casual, not like Mystique. While the much larger circus had glitz and glamour, this had a folksy charm like something out of a storybook.

As the last slivers of daylight dimmed on the horizon, Alexandria was finishing up a box of miniature pretzels covered in white chocolate. Normally Alex would have questioned the sanitation of the snack vendor, but there was something about the smell! How could anyone in their right minds could have refused something so sweet and decadent indulgent? Munching idely on her treat, she was winding her way through the tents, but found nothing of significant value to further Mystique's ambitions. Now it was just a matter of finding a place to bunker down for the night.

"M-Miss?"

A slight tap on her shoulder and a stumbled address drew the Egyptian out of contemplation. Momentarily startled by the intrusion on her pondering, Alex stood back and blinked, not quite sure of who this man was until the patches of what could only be burn scars tipped her off. "Oh, hello?" She tilted her head beyond his arm, but saw no sign of that Ainu fellow or the Chernobyl survivor. Puzzled but calm, she returned her attention back to Arash. "I do believe we've met, yes? I gave you one of my robes?" Alex shifted her feet and memorized the Iranian's face for future reference. "So...what was your question?"
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Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK Thu Mar 10, 2011 10:18 pm

"I have your robe!" his harsh voice snapped, in immediate response.

Shit.

He didn't mean to sound so awkward. He did not have a lot going for him. He figured that most women considered him to be ugly. Well- he had been told by more than one women that he was ugly. He had looked in a mirror before. He also considered himself to be ugly. At one time he was not. That was when he was well off. Now he had grown to be rather skinny and scruffy, he was missing most of his eyebrows, missing some of his hair, his face was pounded in by that asshole, and he had those shallow burns. He was certainly ugly- so now he had to rely on personality.

Unfortunately his personality was nothing close to pleasant. This was already becoming obvious after his first sentence.

"I-I have no questions...just-" he looked away. He had stared at her for too long. Muslim men were not really supposed to stare at women. Arash obviously did stare at women. She might not have been as liberal on that one part as Arash. Arash could not keep to her possibly standard for very long. He peeked up again. He wanted to see how this girl looked. "I accidentally got blood on it. I tried washing it, my mother, she did too- my mother can clean most things out- but not this. It must be stained...You can still have it back, if you want-" Arash did not even have the money to buy her something new. He spent most of the saved up money on opium. All because that little shit Faraz threw what he had away, and then that doctor figured Arash was 'too addicted' to get more. "Only a little bit- and, it was not very impure blood- only from the nose. From somebody else, of course!"

"But you do not want it, I would think. The fluid is still on it. You do have other robes, yes...?" So it wasn't a complete loss. Anyways, why would she throw a robe that she cared about to some random guy?
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Post  Major Glory Fri Mar 11, 2011 7:31 am

Alex started at the sudden outburst. As far as first- well, almost- impressions went, Arash was off to a rocky start. Nodding a little, Alex forced a smile to her lips. "Yes, I did give you the robe. Feel free to keep it; I have plenty." Ew, did he say there was blood on it? She didn't care whose blood it was, clean or unclean, it could have had any number of diseases. "But don't throw it away, use it to patch up a tent or something. It's fairly durable."

She thought back to the night she was in the cantina talking to the Ainu man. He kept mentioning about one of his friends from the night before: jumpy Iranian fellow with burns and patches of hair missing. No doubt this was him. She gave him a once over as he broke eye contact, visibly nervous. Why was he so anxious? Was he suspicious of her being in the wrong camp? It was difficult enough to keep her facade without his anxiety being as contagious as it already was. His tone of voice was harsh, yet unsure. Alex wasn't all too convinced about her opinion of him yet, except that he wasn't much to look at, but she had seen worse. "No, no! Don't worry about it! That just gave me a chance to go shopping anyways!"

She tilted her head, something in the back of her mind was itching her to ask. "Do I know you from somewhere?" Circling him slowly to keep Arash from becoming any more skittish than he already was, Alexandria smiled disarmingly. "Aside from that one incident at Mystique, have we met?" It had been years since she had been home to her native port city, but she could have sworn that she had seen this Arash before, at least once or twice and in significantly better health. Shrugging, Alex sat on a bale of hay and placed the empty pretzel box in a nearby bin. She patted the adjacent haybale, still keeping a comfortable arms-length away. "One of your friends told me about you. You're Arash, correct? I'm Alexandria. Pleased to meet you."

((fffff-- I probably won't be able to respond until tonight when we get to the hotel. :C So don't think I gave up orz))
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Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK Fri Mar 11, 2011 12:37 pm

Arash mentally cursed himself for his behavior. He knew he was not impressing this girl. Arash most certainly did not inherit his father's skills with women.

"It- it is only a small bit, and some of it is washed out-" Arash always wore his emotions on his sleeves. When he was angry, he seemed very angry, when he was proud, he seemed proud, and though any anxiety was diluted by pride, he still did seem nervous. "But you're right. You don't need it!" Arash's concentration ever so often went off to thumbing off the beads of the tasbih in his hand. Occupying himself with something like that was the only way to keep his eyes lowered. He quite enjoyed looking at women, pretty ones in particular.

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

Arash stopped playing with the beads. He had only gotten a slight view of her before. However, even then, she seemed familiar. He wanted to say that he recognized her from somewhere, however he couldn't remember when. She seemed to be an Arab- there was a minority of Arabs in Iran. He had dreams some times with other people. There was one particularity horrifying dream involving some Arabs. She was not in that dream. It would be ridiculous to say that he saw her in his dreams, but that was the only real answer he could give her.

He took the offered seat, still thinking about how to respond to that question. There was a long hesitation from Arash's end. Then he made eye contact with her. "...I'm not sure... I came only very recently from Persia*...I've not been anywhere else...or here for very long."

Shrugging off that answer, he responded to her other question. "Yes, yes, my name is Arash." How did she even know that? It made him happy that she knew, though it was still a little strange. And he nodded to hear her name. He would remember it. His eyes shifted over to her again. "No, no, the pleasure is all mine! I meant to see you again, in the main tent- like you told me too, but I could not. To see you, because it was what you said-.." Because they were busy stealing some girl... She probably knew that, but if she asked about it, Arash would deny it. He still had to ask her why she was here. He would wait for that moment, though. It was rare that he got to speak to girls like this. He didn't want to blow his chance.

((Since this is in the early 30s, Iran was internationally still called Persia.))
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Post  Major Glory Fri Mar 11, 2011 7:35 pm

The young woman sat starkstill, listening to the Iranian divulge only basic personal information. "Ah, so you are Persian," Alex smiled at her correct intuition. "That explains your accent then." It also looked like she wasn't the only one who was a long ways from home. "And I've been away from Egypt from so long, too. I'm originally from Alexandria. Yes, my mother was pretty creative with naming her children." Alex laughed dryly and shook her head. "I wish I could go home, but that is sadly not where the money is these days." Arash then vocalized his inability to attend her show. She laughed again, somewhat embarressed, but waved him off. "No, you didn't miss much. Besides the offer still stands, if you like." Her thoughts strayed to the Ukrainian girl, but decided not to bring that fiasco up. It took no effort to connect the stream of events following her meeting Arash and his cohorts. Still, from what she heard the Chernobylite was fairing better than expected so she let the matter rest. "Your white-haired friend told me all about it, and you, too."

Then she caught sight of his prayer beads. Reaching out slowly, Alex brushed the tassle of the necklace slightly before retracting her hand. "You're a Muslim, too? And since you are Persian...a Shi'ite, correct?"

((/shooooort :l))
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Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK Fri Mar 11, 2011 8:59 pm

"Of course I am Persian-" That response , though rude, was instinctive. In truth, Arash was only mostly Persian- a variety of other Iranian ethnicities were in his blood. However, he wore his Persian identity with pride. The others all came second. "My home country is so beautiful- nothing compares...This place is nothing compared to it. And the food here-, my mother came along, but we can not even find some materials for very simple dishes. These people do not know how to eat. I do not like it here, at all..." He wanted to be home, he would do anything to go back, but he wasn't allowed to. He didn't plan on telling her why. He would go as far as he possibly could without telling anyone about that incident.

"Itakshir said something--..." And then he cut himself off. "...I would like to come- does anybody else know about that night...?" He always did want to see their circus, but not if he would get in trouble for it.

"And yes, I am! I was just on my way to pray- but- it will be done later! You... are a Sunni...and an Arab...?" he was hesitant to ask the last part. He figured she was an Arab, but Arash had never had a fondness for that race, nor did his father. It was probably better if he was left in the dark.

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Post  Major Glory Fri Mar 11, 2011 10:18 pm

Arash was interesting to say the least, but one couldn't say he wasn't long-winded. Alex smoothed out a wrinkle in her dress. "I have some relatives who are of Persian descent, but not too many." What she didn't tell him was that the vast majority of those relatives were Ghwazee gypsies. Alex knew of the social stigma that gypsies carried, so she avoided divulging such volitle information at all costs as it tended to discourage potential clients. "However I am not actually a full Arab. I do have quite a bit of Greek, Italian and Jewish ancestry. And I agree, but you are lucky to be traveling with your mother. What I'd do for a home-cooked meal right now. Some baklava or falafel would be grand."

She sighed discontentedly, but caught the last part of his question. "Of course they know a gaggle of Ragtags did it, who else would kidnap a blind girl when most people wouldn't even give the time of day to touch her. But on the upside, they don't know any of your names. I have no reason to tattle now, the deed is done." She kicked her feet back and forth lazily, staring at the faint constellations above. It was really peaceful tonight, truely it was. "And yes," she confirmed his last inquery, "I am a Sunni, but I was also brought up within a heavily Christian and Jewish family, but I'm more Muslim than anything. I suppose you couldn't tell at first glance, though." Alex gestured to her exposed hair, "believe me when I say that I wouldn't dress like this on a regular basis unless it was my job."


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Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK Fri Mar 11, 2011 11:09 pm

"That is good," he mumbled with a slight smile when she stated her mixed ancestry. Whenever Arash looked at... potential wives (few women bothered to associate with him, so those who did fit into that catagory), he always had to consider if his father would approve of them. He broke off all ties with his father, but he still felt the need to consider that. "But- you should try my mother's cooking. Nobody in the world cooks like her! Even with the supplies we have, she is still very skilled. And she knows some Arab recipies too, she does not mind them." Arash's eyes lit up when he began to speak about his mother. "I don't know if she knows your foods, but you should try Persian food. It is known to be the best."

"My father also, is not a Muslim. The rest of my family, they are Shi'ite-...well, not all, but most of them. My father he is so stubborn, so he practices Zoroastrianism, because that was how he was raised. He just-" And then Arash's words came to an abrupt halt. He wasn't supposed to be talking about his family. He didn't belong with them anymore. "He's very traditional." The words came out quick, that was all he wanted to say about him.

"But- no, no- I understand what you mean. My mother she is a dancer here. The men are very vulgar in the audience. She is very modest, and she dresses very modest, but she has to seem less so, as well."
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Post  Major Glory Sat Mar 12, 2011 7:25 pm

Alex leaned against the rough tent lining, not letting her focus wander from Arash's speech about his mother's vast knowledge of ethnic cuisine. "My mother is dead." She stated blatently. While she knew that her adoptive mother, that slavic woman whose name Alex could barely remember for the life of her, was alive; her birth mother died while Alex was barely out of adolescence. What did it matter who looked after her, she had no parents and no attachments to either as long as there was no benefit between a dead woman and woman who was dead to the world.

The morbidly dry way she addressed her disconcern gave off the wrong tone, Alex forced her gaze back to the Iranian. "You mother is Shahnaz, correct? Yes, she and I, well, we know each other." Alexandria laughed a little, but not so loud as to disturb the carnies who might be trying to sleep. It was true that she and Arash's mother knew each other, in terms of a rivalry between dancers. Factions be damned, it was their reputation as dancers at stake: who could draw the most crowds, perform with the most grace, etc. But that didn't mean their takes on each other were bitter, only good-natured competition. "You are very lucky to have such a kind mother, Arash. She doesn't deserve to be dancing in such a low-brow place; she's true Mistique material."

The subject was then switched to family matters. Alex grimaced, but nodded in agreement. "I know exactly how you feel. My family, what's left being my brothers and sisters, are all very traditional." On instinct, her long fingers ran through the brisk water below the faucet. "My siblings always told me that I was the odd one out, and who always had her head in the clouds. But I wondered if they even knew what was beyond clouds?" Alex withdrew her hand from the cool water, wiping it on her sleeve. "Don't misunderstand me, I know traditions are in place for a reason, but what is wrong about moderate progressivism? What is so wrong about wanting more than your lot in life?" Her face was scrunched up with the very same dogged expression she gave her siblings. Alexandria would never be silenced.


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Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK Sun Mar 13, 2011 12:11 am

Arash shifted at the blunt statement. He couldn't imagine how he would live if his mother was dead. The thought had never even entered his head. He didn't know how to respond. He took the initiative to push the topic aside, when she also did. He perked up again.

"Yes, yes, she is my mother!" he smiled, his eyes went to his sacred beads again. "I had no idea you were one of her friends. She has so many- I do not even know them all..." And once more, his eyes went up to her. "I think she is too kind for mistique, though... You- you should not be working there... Have you seen their freaks? They just show them to the public. It is like laughing at God. They shouldn't be like that, and God would not want these mistakes to be shown off. If there is a stain or a fray to a rug, you do not focus on that." he stated those words with deep conviction. Arash had very strong morals. His morals did not allow for what went on in Mistique. He had even heard that they sell off the bodies of women. Hopefully, this girl was not getting her body sold. She didn't deserve that. The boy shook his scruffy and patchy head, before staring at the girl again. "She does not belong with Mistique. She belongs home."

It took a while for his passions to die down. However, when he began to speak again they sparked right up. "I consider myself to be traditional-, but a different kind than me father. My father, though he keeps his traditions, looks at the West for help. He supports their imperialism, while he takes no effort to support our constitution or our attempt for something like democracy! I think sometimes, it is just that he is against Islam! He does not understand, at all." There was an obvious bitterness in Arash's tone. The father was a very important figure in Persian society. Arash should not have been speaking about his father as he was.
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Post  Major Glory Sun Mar 13, 2011 5:19 pm

"Your mother is very outgoing so I can't think of a reason why anyone would not want to be friends with her," Alexandria said, relieved that the conversation had returned to something less macabre.

"In all honesty, I would love to go home," she admitted to him, "but sadly home is not where the money is, and that is something Mistique has. My family used to be one of the elite- not to brag, there's nothing to brag about now. Egypt is as poor as can be, and the English and Italians that occupy my home aren't doing anything to help. Why! Do not get me started on those English pigs!" Alex threw her arms in the air, venting her frustration as if she were gossiping to a neighbor's wife. "The city still bears scars when they bombed Alexandria- almost leveled the entire city! The British won't keep their up-turned noses out of our business! English soldiers are everywhere and they are some of the crudest, most arrogant people on the face of the earth! Everyday I saw them traipsing up and down the streets like they owned the place!" Her shoulders fell a little as she stopped to catch her breath, "and in a way they do: The British control the country, the ports, everything. I just want to go home to an Alexandria, an Egypt, that is not being suffocated under some other countries thumb."

Arash then mentioned the Mystique freaks. Alex felt her heart drop with shame. Shame that she wanted to do something about their living conditions, but the fragility of her employment at the hands of those Europeans, who toyed with more lives and pulled more strings than the Sisters of Fate, forced Alex to turn the other cheek. But no matter how long she tried to numb the thoughts, she knew the freaks weren't commodities, they were living, breathing people who were forced to put on a dog-and-pony show to live, only to do the same miserable act day after day after day. "I agree," she said but refused to say anything else about it.

The conversation was directed yet again at Arash's father. Really, Alex shook her head in wonder, what happened to put such disdain between a father and son? "You know how older people are," she countered, "they become so entrenched in how they grew up that anything out of routine becomes a threat to normality. I don't know your father, but it seems less of an attack against Islam as it is about his 'comfort zone.'" It seems like she and the Irani were in the same boat more than she had previously guessed. "Democracy is something I would have really enjoyed back in Egypt," Alexandria wrung a lock of her dark hair anxiously. "But the royal family and the British are playing games with the citizens. Unrest is brewing; it won't be long now."

She glanced back at Arash, puzzled by the vast area of his person covered by angry burns. "These," Alex pointed to the light scars across his hands and face, "what happened to you? Did you father do this to you?" Her neutral expression broke with a wave of pity.

(( /HIDEOUS WALL OF TEXTTT ))


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Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK Sun Mar 13, 2011 8:24 pm

"The Shah does everything that the imperialists want him to! And people like my father, who claim they care about Persia, they support him! You can not support a man who is working against our national interests! He's nothing but a puppet." Arash scoffed. "He only came to power because of the British. The British just want to suck the life out of our country, and take the profit from it!" His words came out so loud, and with such passion. Somebody in a nearby caravan was awakened, and angered. Arash ignored him.

Arash had to laugh at that next suggestion that came out. "No, no, of course not!" The laugh came out very dry, and it was gone very quickly. "Not really-... I do this to myself..." He stared down to his hands. His right hand moved around. It was by far, the worst, it was the one he held the flamable objects in. He glanced up at the girl once more. "N-not on purpose! It's my job at the carnival. I self immolate myself for the crowd. The fire mostly does not harm my skin, It still burns me a bit, though...I don't have the technique right, yet..." And it still wouldburn the boy, with any amount of practice. Arash knew that it was something that he had to earn. It was a trial for his innocence, he had done the worst thing a son could do. He would never be innocent.

"There's no need for pity, it's not that bad." There was the slightest pause. "D-does Mistique allow you to be out so late?" Hopefully that question would not seem rude. Arash wanted to ask her why she was here. That would be rude, though. His intents in saying this, were to sound concerned.
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Post  Major Glory Mon Mar 14, 2011 6:42 am

The Iranian really did seem to know what he was talking about. He also exuded a love for his homeland that Alex envied. She was too pessimistic about the cloud of political intrigue around her home city. So drawn into his tirade was she that she jumped somewhat when Arash's speech woke a neighbor. That shout served as a reminder that she was in 'enemy territory,' but it was so surreal. Never in her lifetime did she ever expect to find someone whose opinions were near parallels of her own. "Yes," she nodded slowly as she settled back onto the itchy haybale, "the only thing Europeans expect from Alexandria is a nice hotel, a bar to drink at, and history that's half underwater. Behind that, there is very little else we can offer besides a Rosetta Stone and a cold drink." The young Egyptian laughed at the irony. How she wished she could have been born centuries before in the Golden Age of Hellenic Alexandria. Life would have been so much better.

"You set yourself on fire for a living?" Alex leaned forward in disbelief. The shock on her face was blatant. It was a wonder that he wasn't more badly burned that his current condition. Having grown up in such a large, packed city like Alexandria, Alex had been taught from an early age that fire was something to fear, to respect. Fire was something that could easily engulf the port town in a matter of hours due to the almost nonexistant building code. Still, it's dual ability to create as nuture as well as take away life intrigued Alex to no end, nearly to the point were she was almost completely comfortable being close to an open flame. To be able to wield flames as Arash did was surely a sight to see. "You have to be good, though, to attract an audience. Perhaps I could visit one day, if you come to one of my shows," she grinned at the Iranian like a private joke between two children scheming.

Arash then inquired about the time. Mystique had no explicit rules about their employees roaming at all hours of the night. If everyone showed up during performances when they were supposed to, did their jobs well, and didn't inhibit the system, then there was no reason to impose a curfew. Alex knew the security at the gates of Mystique would let her in without question, but it would be too suspicious if she returned from the direction of the Ragtag camp. Plus she didn't feel comfortable traveling at night all by her lonesome. "I originally didn't intend to stay so long," Alex admitted, "but I dropped a friend off at her caravan before it got too dark, and I got sidetracked, and here I am. Say! You wouldn't happen to know of an extra tent or room where I could stay for the night, would you?" Taking full advantage of her wiles, Alex pouted slightly, but it was difficult to keep a straight face. It wasn't like she was asking for too much, after all she deserved a little hospitality after bringing mami's little, red-handed angel home.

((god alex you are such a gold-digger :/ which is forever historically canon))
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Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK Mon Mar 14, 2011 7:01 pm

((lmaooo, why is Arash associating with such a hobag /shott))

"The Westerners think that we exist only for them. They think that our resources are their's. Our people's lives are their's!" Arash snapped. "They have the ideology of children. Persia is just their toy." Arash had no problem when they visited. He actually quite enjoyed foreign visitors. They were very interesting, and Arash enjoyed teaching them about the culture of his homeland. However, he did not appreciate those who came only to suck the blood from his country.

"Y-you should come to our show tomorrow!" Arash exclaimed. "My mother's caravan- y-you can sleep with her! She will be honoured to have you. And you can stay around for our show in the morning!" It did not take any wiles to convince Arash to have good hospitality. He was never unfriendly to his guests. Right now, Alex was his guest.

"You must!" And he gave a wide, almost childish smile. It was the first time he had made the face in a while. It felt so natural, though, even if it was so uncommon. He got up from his seat. "Here, follow me-"
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Post  Major Glory Mon Mar 14, 2011 7:52 pm

"I sincerely hope that those Europeans leave as soon as possible, for the both of us. I certainly don't want to get dragged into that war everyone keeps saying is coming, especially not so soon after the last one." The British, Germans, and Italians had been fussing over Egypt for years, especially for vital regions ports such as Alexandria. The city was one of the hotspots for transatlantic trading from Africa to Europe. It disstressed Alex to see her home on the brink of being torn apart by the bickering countries like hungry dogs.

Well, that was certainly easy, she thought with mild surprise. Apparently all it took to seal the deal was nod and smile. Not that Alex had any problem with that, she just expected more suspicion, but who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth?

"Oh," she stood up immediately, "well, thank you very much." Picking up the edges of her new robe, Alex kept a brisk pace to keep up with Arash. "I would very much like to see your show as well!" It was no promise, by any means, but she had to give him credit. The Iranian put on a convincing argument. Well, that was certainly easy. Apparently all it took to seal the deal was nod and smile. Not that Alex had any problem with that, she just expected more suspicion, but who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth? Keeping pace beside Arash, she spoke again "and I seriously can't think of a way to thank you enough. I hope I'm not imposing on your family. Do you have any other relatives there?" She seriously hoped it wasn't his father, or things would get really awkward really fast.

(( Alex you ho. y u no remember Tarof? :C bitch /shottt))
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Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK Tue Mar 15, 2011 5:10 pm

"To them the whole world is Europe! Of course they will take us!" Arash exclaimed. He had no idea what was yet to come from their parts, however they would not dissapoint his low expectations. If he continued any longer ranting about the West, he'd probably get lost, and get his guest lost too. It took more work than would be thought to translate his passions into English.

"You are a guest for us! You must come. Our shows don't cost nearly as much as yours, it is not a loss!" He was Persian, and he was willing to sacrifice all he had for his guests. "You will love it. Mistique gets more visitors than us, but that is only because we are unknown." He stopped to tell her this, making good usage of his hands to properly express the greatness.

"And it is no problem! You know my mother, it is such an honour to her when guests come over. We do not get many guests anymore. She will be very glad." His smile quickly dropped when she mentioned other family members. "My little brother... He was spoiled rotten- you should not talk to him. He has no idea how to behave. He is very selfish and rude- and a liar." Arash snapped quickly. Hopefully Faraz would not introduce himself to the girl. Arash would lose so much face and credibility to this girl if she learned of the bruises that Arash had recently inflicted on his brother. They revealved a side of Arash that he, himself, hated, and that he tried to make unknown from everyone else. Arash had done all he could to make sure that Faraz didn't speak to anyone about it. If anybody asked, Arash answered that Faraz hurt himself.

((FFF that hobag- and I'm sorry for taking so long. ): ))
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Post  Major Glory Tue Mar 15, 2011 6:29 pm

Arash was speaking so fast that Alex could hardly keep up with the direction of the conversation. First it was the Europeans, then his mother, then something about a little brother? She couldn't tell anymore, but smiled bashfully and quickly combed her fingers through her hair. It wouldn't do to look like a slob in front of such a kind host family, especially considering the difference in the quality of the circus factions. "Thank you very much," she nodded mechanically before entering the caravan, remembering to take her shoes off, "I appreciate your hospitality on such short notice."

Speaking of little brothers, Faraz was sitting on a trunk of his adoptive mother's personal items, flipping through a ratty catalogue he found on the ground somewhere. He grunted at the increasingly loud sound of his older, half-brother's approach and buried his head into the illustrated pages. "Why won't you just shut up?" Faraz seethed behind the shopping book. His jaw throbbed as he spoke, causing his to rub it in an attempt to soothe the pain away. The bruises were yellowing from age, but clashed against his pale skin tone. Not to mention that they hurt like a bitch. Still, in spite of his suffering, there was only so much noise the Iranian boy could take. Stomping towards the door, he slammed it open and yelled, "Arash! Shut your stinkin' mouth! I can't even read in peace without your--!"

Faraz stopped in mid-curse, staring at the young woman who accompanied Arash. Faraz knew his brother couldn't get a girlfriend to save his life, but was too self-righteous (not to mention self-concious) about hiring a prostitute. She had a regal air that made her seem too important to be a prostitute. His brother must have been in trouble. Oh goody, what fun this would be. "Arash," he whispered in Persian, "what did you do this time?"

Alex was also taken off guard as she flinched at the sudden inquisition. Whispering next to Arash's ear, but not removing her eyes from the boy she asked, "Arash, who is this?"


Last edited by SheepintheBigCity on Wed Mar 16, 2011 2:34 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK Tue Mar 15, 2011 9:59 pm

Arash's mother was not in the caravan at the moment. Arash knew he wasn't supposed to be in the women's caravan while the women were there. He didn't plan on staying in. He just wanted to take a few steps in, direct Alex to his mother and leave. The ragtags were tight on resources, everyone had to share rooms. A few women were sleeping. It wasn't very late, but the days of the carnival were often long and tiring. Fortunatly, the ladies were used to having Arash interrupt things to get his maman. Whatever spare time he had, he always wanted to spend it with her. Arash was going to direct Alex on what to do-- but Faraz's burst in made that impossible.

"Shut up, Faraz!" Arash shouted. All the women who were asleep woke up. Of course, they were all used to this sort of loud bickering between the boys. They did not seem very surprised. "You have no right to treat the women like this! They have no time to get ready for us! Do you want to compromise your sisters' morality?!" He exclaimed, speaking his dialogue in their mutual language. The statement was obviously hypocritical. Faraz was not even a man, he was a boy, so it didn't really matter if he came in. Arash, though, was a man, and he was the one who entered first without warning.

"This is our guest- Faraz!" Arash shouted, pointing at the girl. "Guests are gifts from God, and you treat them like this?! You are disgusting." His words came out harsh, and he walked towards the boy. A lob of spit came out, to hit Faraz in the face. It was not proper manners, but that was what Faraz deserved for being so rude. His eyes flickered to the girl, again. When they went back to Faraz, Arash's tone was a whisper. "Get out of here, now, Faraz. Maman is going to see if she's...acceptable..." The expression on his face was somewhat flustered.

A hand moved to his brother, giving him a slight and subtle shove. He wanted Faraz to leave. A glance was given back at Alex.

"I'm so sorry- my mother will be here soon. I would not want to stay in the room of the women for longer... And my brother needs to pray now..." Arash motioned to the prayer rug that he still carried. "It is so near to his bed time.. Goodnight..." Another small shove on his brother.
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Post  Major Glory Wed Mar 16, 2011 3:19 pm

As expected, Arash threw another bitch-fest at Faraz. The boy didn't even get a chance to respond before his half-brother went on and on about the new girl who was apparently a guest, not that Faraz minded guests. It was just that Arash made too much noise anywhere he went, and flew off the handle every time someone pointed out his chronic trespassing. To add insult to injury, Faraz got a facefull of saliva.

Hissing curses in Persian, but keeping calm enough not to pummel his brother, Faraz directed his attention back to Alex who looked more than uncomfortable with the yelling and pointing. He nodded curtly at her, but scrunched up his nose when Arash mentioned something about her being "acceptable." This woman had a definite Arabic accent, but only looked half the part. An Arab. Out of all the world's women, why an Arab? "Tch, good luck with that- not!" Faraz blew an exaggeratedly long raspberry at Arash before walking back to the men's car. He briefly slowed his pace next to Alexandria, "I hope you get to meet my maman, miss. She's so nice and beautiful. Sorry about my brother's temper; Arash has more moodswings than a woman. Good night, miss." He grinned sweetly at her, but shot a sour glare that foretold vengence at Arash. Then he left without so much as a second glance at the prayer rug, skipping carelessly to the men's quarters.

Alexandria wrung her hands nervously, still stunned by the domestic spectacle she had bore witness to. Was this a daily occurance? What had she gotten herself into? "I take it that is your brother?" Alex smiled nervously at Arash. "Feisty little child, isn't he?" If that wasn't an understatement, she didn't know what was. "Are you going to go pray now?"
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Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK Wed Mar 16, 2011 4:11 pm

Arash was furious by the time Faraz left. Every encounter Arash had with his little brother, only left him sngry. The boy was rude, rude and disrespectful. Arash had so wanted to punch the brat again. It was hard to restrain himself, yet he had to. It was very difficult, which was obvious in the way that Arash trembled with his anger. Things would be so much easier if Faraz was not always causing such trouble. He used to be a little bit more pleasant to Arash. He was, (understandably) probably just mad that Arash ruined their family. His brother had left, almost as quickly as he came in.

"That boy is nothing but a liar." Arash snapped at Alex. "He is no child, he is a demon. Don't listen to him." Arash was being so very pleasant, but his mood had so quickly turned sour. It was very obvious that Faraz's words were not lies. They had predicted this new mood swing. They would predict others.

"Yeah...My mother will be in soon. I'm sorry for the rudeness that you have been treated with by that child." He felt so happy after their meeting. She was not being rude to him, that could have meant that she would have liked him. That would be a first. He wanted to leave happy. He was not happy, though. He had returned to his default, angered emotion. "Good night." With those words, he stormed out, and the door was slammed behind him.
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