How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

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How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK on Thu May 26, 2011 7:08 pm

Should he have worn something to cover up his burns this time? He did last time...But last time ended in disaster. Would he be too easily recognized as a member of Ragtags with the burns? He wore makeup while on stage...So hopefully they wouldn't know him.

As he waited in the line, he could not help but worry. Would he be able to get in? She said she'd pull some strings, but wouldn't Mistique want a profit? And what if Arash took too long? She probably expected him to come sooner, what if she gave up on the hope that he would come? She might not have mentioned anything before hand. She could have just changed her mind...? He had waited so long to finally come, but now his eyes dashed backwards, now maybe he should go back. Arash really couldn't pay. The Iranian had failed to bring a lot of money, precisely because he didn't own a lot of money. Hopefully, hopefully when he reached the ticket booth, Alexandria did have a ticket saved for him.

And, his fears were completely without reason. There was a ticket waiting for him. He had to mention briefly that Alex had a ticket waiting for him. The man did not even question that, though. Alex probably left a fairly easy description of who was supposed to pick the ticket up. There were probably few other burnt up Iranian men out there.

Arash entered the carnival, shaking with some new anticipation. It was such a relief to get in, but as he stepped in, he realized the worse was still on its way. A new anxiety took over him, as he reached the tent. There was a small book in his pocket, a present, that he kept feeling for, just to make sure it was there. For what his words could not be able to say, the book could say. There was no doubt that his words would fail him. He was so nervous around women, so nervous around this woman. He was amazed that she would even entertain his emotions. She seemed so far out of his league. Surely he had left a bad impression on her. Yet, here she was, inviting him to see her perform in Carnival Mistique. It was an honour of the highest order.

But it was still...unnerving to be here. This was the Ragtag's chief rival. They were the ones who had been, historically, out to destroy his carnival. Hopefully they did not know of his allegiance. But Arash could only hope for that.

The tent was full of people. The crowd looked much more civilized than the Ragtags crowd. The stage was magnificent, it was grand, it was beautiful. The Ragtags made do with what they had. Mistique had everything.

And the Iranian felt suddenly, so out of place. He could only wait for the performance of Alexandria, but after that, he just wanted to leave. He waited in discomfort, knowing that he did not belong here.

When was she on...?

((Sorrry, this is so lame fff and took forever))
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Major Glory on Fri May 27, 2011 9:32 pm

It was organized chaos behind the lavishly embroidered curtains. The other dancer women scuttled to and fro, keeping clear of Alex's path as she gave last minute orders to the stage hands. It was too much work for one woman to do. While the others were fussing over their hair or costumes, Alexandria was actually concerned with getting the show started. The blame would fall on her shoulders should the dancers come off as shabby or unkempt. "Wrap it up, ladies! We're on in less than five, four, three, two--"

The stage was barely illuminated, but each woman fell into place like a legion made entirely of dancers. Alex was, of course, the center. Each step was deliberate, yet deft. She made her way to the center as the train of dancers followed suit. Her movements and facial expression an equal measure of ecstasy and sultriness. The music always kept a steady tempo, the ensemble was particularly adaptable with Oriental music. The musicians had chosen a traditional Ghawazee composition as per her request. It wasn't often that she got to choose the piece as often as what she was informed of what she would be dancing to. The choice of music was no mere whim, well, not really. She didn't expect Arash to arrive. Alex considered the gesture of giving him the ticket kindness enough. Still, the man did have a good head on his shoulders, however his manners could have used a tad more polishing. He could be fun, more fun than the stiffs at Mistique if he spent less time fidgeting and more time actually speaking up.

Her focus remained strong on her dancing, stepping and twisting with the beat of the cymbals and drums. It was a soothing, hypnotic tone. She fondly remembered learning to dance in her early childhood as per matriarchal custom. Here in America, belly dancers were seen as sex symbols with no attention paid to the actual effort put forth into the dancing, but in the dancer's appearance. Back in Egypt, it was true that belly dancers were subject to erotic stereotyping, but at least they had class. The dismal thoughts didn't penetrate her jovial and flirtatious visage as Alexandria wove her way around the edge of the stage, swaying for the high-rollers in the front row. They loved that sort of attention. It made them feel special in some fashion; Alex couldn't have cared less, she barely remembered their faces. For a moment her eyes drifted to the middle and upper seats, casually wondering if her Iranian guest had made it to her show? Did he arrive at a different time? Was he too intimidated by the wealthy air of the patrons? Not that it made any difference to her professionally, but it would be appreciated to see that her efforts were not in vain. Especially with Auguste breathing down everyone's neck.

The music reached its conclusion with the crash of a high-hat, also ending the Egyptian's show for the night. It had been a uneventful, yet satisfying evening. The applause of the crowd and occasional whistle made her feel like she had earned the attention. She waved over her shoulder and dipped into a bow before skittering off the brightly colored stage. It probably strange for the stage crew to see Alexandria put on her robe in more of hurry than she usual did, but the young woman exited before anyone had the chance to ask, not like it was any of their business to begin with. Alexandria peeked out of the performers' tent before tiptoeing near the exit flap of the big top. It would take a while for all of the customers to file out, and possibly even longer to spot Arash amidst the tall Americans, but she would wait a little while. Alex spent the time she had conversing with fans before they spilled out into the vendors' stalls. All the while she kept an blue-powdered eye out for that certain, special VIP.
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK on Sat May 28, 2011 2:25 pm

There was chatter everywhere, rich and sophisticated chatter, but it was the same sort of noise the Ragtag's received before a show. For some reason, Arash hated these types of people. These people were the imperialists who destroyed his country. He couldn't stand to be near them, he couldn't stand to talk to him. So he stood alone, quietly fuming, and waiting in anticipation. The lights simmered down, and Arash had to thank God for that. He would have been smothered by the pretentious atmosphere.

And then the Egyptian entered the room, followed by an entourage of other dancers, but Arash need only pay attention to Alexandria. The beats filled the room first. Alex, her presence, and her image filled it after. She dominated the stage, the music did not manipulate her movements, as it did for most. No, Alex's body seemed to manipulate the music. It was fascinating, hypnotizing, almost. Arash found Persian dancing always more tasteful, but the way Alex performed... It was like reading some erotic poem. She was sexual, yet enchanting. Seeing her body so bare, and her movements so welcoming- was it vulgar...or was it just inviting? This type of sexuality was acceptable, because she had, like poets and dancers before her, turned it into an art. She had made herself irresistible to men. The men in the crowd hungered for her. Arash was among them.

Was that wrong? The Egyptian did not try to cover her body in this dance. She did not try to make herself modest. No, the way her figure ringed and moved, it emphasized her shape. It advertised it to all the men who watched. Her sultry gaze caught the eye of all in the crowd. Was this promiscuity? She was sacrificing her modesty, yes, but Arash's morals were not controlling him at this point. His emotions were. She invoked that. And aren't emotions, passion and love for God and his creations so very essential to Islam? So maybe at times it was acceptable to allow these vulgar human sensations to overcome the Iranian's body?

As he watched her, he felt that he didn't need to hide his desires. She would accept them, he knew. And that could make him accept them for himself. He could feel comfortable with himself.

And then, the music came to a conclusion. With that, the Egyptian's body movements drew to a halt. Those in the crowd clapped. A few let out lewd whistles. And before Arash knew it, Alexandria was gone. People filed out of the big top. Arash followed the crowd, but suddenly that feeling of discomfort overcame him. When that his emotions had quieted down, his morals could take charge.

That lust that had taken him over was suddenly something he maybe should have been ashamed of. What would he do if he saw the Egyptian again? Would they again take control of him? Maybe he should just leave. She wouldn't know. Arash would lose his last chance with her...and to that extent any real chance with any woman so out of his league. He didn't need to see her, again...

And he remembered the book of poetry that he had on him. He had spent nights with his mother's assistance, translating his favourites into her language. He included those with the original copies, so she too could understand the emotions that Arash was failing to project. She could share with him the love that his favourite and most sacred Persian poets shared with him.

Arash was determined to meet her again. It was something he knew he had to do. He walked around the carnival, looking for Alex. It was difficult, more difficult than finding someone in the chaotic setting of Ragtag's, even. In Ragtags one could easily just shove through. Here, when Arash tried to move through, it was met with contempt and hostility. They did not want to let the strange outsider in.

But finally, he was let in. He found Alex, she was in her robe, and a swarm of men had formed themselves around her. Arash was at first intimidated. They were all tall, mostly attractive, and all were seemingly rich. Arash had none of those qualities. They flirted with her with confidence. Arash couldn't do that. Any woman would choose one of these men over Arash, quicker than a heartbeat.

Arash was put down, but still he persevered to get to her. Pushing through was difficult, but he almost got to her. But then, Arash must have shoved through the wrong person. A shove was deftly handed back to Arash, a shove that pushed him to his destination, but not in the method he liked. As he was ranting a long insult to the aggressor, he ran into somebody...His stability was not put off...the body was small so he was not injured.. However... he didn't know about the body....The small and curvy body...

It was not the body of a man...

His dark cheeks reddened instantly, he didn't need to look at the one he injured...he knew already.

"Alexandria!" he began, turning around quickly. Another man was already tending on the Egyptian. He looked at Arash with contempt. All the men in the crowd looked at this strange Iranian with contempt. Some mouthed insults, some said them loudly.

Arash tried to ignore them, but his embarrassment was too obvious.

"Alex, you're--" his fidgeting returned, as he reached a hand out for her. "Someone else...did that! You saw him, yes?!" And Arash pointed towards the man at fault. "I'm sorry...I-I your show was very good!" The words flew at all wrong and jumbled, again. He was normally very coherent. Unless he was on drugs, or speaking to women like Alex. Arash's mind was in the same state for both activities.

((Ffffuuuuu, Oh my god, this is like a novel, I'm sorry. WAY TOO LONG AND BORING. STOP IT, OPPY.))
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Major Glory on Sun May 29, 2011 12:40 am

It was around the same time that the Egyptian woman had lost track of whatever became of Arash, becoming all too embroiled with the contemptuous affections of these foreign (at least to her point of view) men. They looked well-to-do and socially affluent men, but they weren't- how could she phrase it without being too offputing?- interesting. Yes, they were nice to look at, but they lacked substance, making the same offers of fine dinners and other such material things. It was so commonplace that Alexandria honestly felt saddened by the fact that such men went after one dancer when there were whole cities full of eligible women. She valued her dignity, but hardly to the point of being treated like a trophy.

"Gentleman- Please, if you-," she tried to silence the pack of suitors before an unexpected bump caught her off kilter. She stifiled a squeal, but remained unharmed. She had gathered her bearings enough to swat away the too-eager hands that fluttered to her rescue. "I'm alright, enough!" Alex shot back in exhasperation. "May I have some room to breathe?" She had just finished dusting off loose bits of grass from her cerulean garment when the tell-tale stammer of her Iranian guest reached her ears. "Arash, Arash! Calm yourself; it could have been anybody in the room. No harm done." She walked through the crowded circle and lightly patted his shoulder. Alexandria was far from stupid, and she had all too good of an idea who had caused the ruckus. That, however was in the past and with no lasting damages, she let the alibi slide- for the moment. "I'm glad you could join us at Mistique, Arash," she smiled warmly, "and thank you very much for your kind words. It's nice to know that all of my practice has paid off in some shape or form."

Seizing the opportunity, she grasped his rough hand with hers and led him away from the spurned gathering. Alex expertly doled out an excuse about her long-awaited guest, giving away no specific details before disappearing into the myriads of booths and tents. After a short journey she released her grasp on Arash and stood before him, smaller in stature but commanding a professional stern fixation on the man. "May I ask what that was all about? You know what, nevermind that," she sighed and waved him along to walk beside her. "I'll get straight to the point: You are too restless whenever we speak. If you have something to say, it's best to say it now and be done with it. Bourbon will have my hide if he deems you too much of a distraction." Her cold expression softened considerably, almost mischievious. "I'm not too partial to being left out of the know, Arash. What is it that troubles you?"
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK on Sun May 29, 2011 11:24 am

He smiled at her initial response, fortunately she didn't seem mad. No, she was happy that he visited. She was glad to see Arash here, or at least that was what she said.

"O-of course..." he spurted out, but she had grabbed his hand by then. Why was she grabbing his hand? Was this some move towards affection? Instinctively he tried to pull his hand away, but her grip was firm. Firm grips did not incline towards affection. No, actually, the way she walked even seemed a little angry.

Her words followed only shortly after, and they did prove that she was in fact angry. He was being scolded. For what?! Was that for running into her? That wasn't his fault. Somebody obviously pushed him. Somebody tried to pick a fight with the Iranian. Oh, or now was he beings scolded for the fact that he was uncomfortable around her? His expression changed per response, he felt some anger boil up in him again. What right did any of these outsiders have to judge him? Maybe he could be more comfortable around her if she was less promiscuous! Arash did receive strange feelings around her, but that was not his fault. Her promiscuity was what provoked these feelings!

"I just wanted to say I liked your show!" he snapped out, much harsher than he had ever addressed her before. Obviously she had offended him. "If being here is distracting to you, then maybe you shouldn't have invited me!" He fumed. "Or were you trying to say that talking to you is distracting?!" it was difficult for Arash to push down his defense mechanism after being insulted. He was sensitive, too sensitive, and he did not respond well to criticism.

"Troubles?!" he scoffed. The Iranian increased the pace of his steps, to be a little further than this Egyptian. She wanted to know his problems too? Well he had a whole list of those, none that would concern this Egyptian belly dancer. He was supposed to be seem attractive to this girl... Well as attractive as he could be. There was nothing to do about his external appearance, but he did want to push that he was as great a catch as his mother told him he was. That meant keeping his troubles pretty hidden.

"I don't have any! And you have no right to know if I did! You see, this is why it is so difficult to talk to you! You do these sorts of things...and..." he trailed off then, and words began to fail him yet again. "It- It's difficult, you.... women..." letting out a frustrated sigh, he shifted his eyes towards the girl. He wanted to let on how uncomfortable he felt around women, but he coudln't even do that. Why would she want a man that couldn't even associate with the opposite sex?

"You don't understand!" Was all he could shout out.
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Major Glory on Sun May 29, 2011 3:35 pm

Needless to say, Alex didn't expect the sudden outburst from Arash. She released her hold on his hands, drawing back a little before her form went ridgid with disbelief. "I'm glad you think so, because you shouldn't even be here in the first place!" The Egyptian sighed and rubbed her brow. "Arash, please understand, I risked my job to get you that ticket. You are part of Ragtags, I'm a Mistic; my employer greatly discourages interaction between our kind." Alexandria was no strange to troubled relationships, but the Iranian was stubborn on a whole new level.

"You call that scene at the other tent 'not a distraction?' And how am I-?" Her normally collected exterior was cracking from the anger inside her. "Oh, this," she yanked her robe open to expose her liberally tailored dancer's garb, "this is a distraction?" With the same quickness as before, she drew her robe shut and crossed her arms. "Unlike a lot of women, I appreciate my attributes, in fact, I consider myself quite blessed. However, I still have pride and a sense of dignity to uphold. I don't sell my body, Arash; I sell fantasies. This is a circus. Nothing is real here except the fact that we need to make money, and I need a job to keep back from going to Egypt where I may as well be a prostitute!" Her voice cracked a bit, but she bit her lips to regain a steady breathing rate.

"Here in America, I can make my own choices, my own decisions about my career and self." "However," she withdrew from the Iranian but never broke eye contact with him, "don't let that fool you into thinking that I am promiscuous or don't miss my Egypt! Yes, I may have pried to far with my questions, but is that reason enough to condemn concern? This isn't the Arash I talked to before. Where is that man who spoke up about his beliefs and his people's condition?" She frowned and looked down at the sod, hair curtaining her face with shadows. "Is it so wrong to ask someone about what is so obviously hurting them? Even if it's on a... somewhat personal level?" Alex wrung her fingers as she spoke barely louder than a whisper. Several moments passed while she contemplated his declarations.

The Egyptain woman brought her face up and steadily walked towards Arash. "No, I understand clearly." She slowly walked into the direction opposite of him. "You are insecure, and around me, of all people." Alex looked at him in the eye, somewhat disgusted but more hurt than anything. "Have you anything to say to me, say it now. You can leave if you'd like or stay for a while, it's 'not my business' what you do so long as you don't cause any trouble. I can't promise you another golden ticket, Arash."
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK on Sun May 29, 2011 5:44 pm

She returned a response back to him, one much more coherent, her words were snapped out with a wit that Arash rarely saw in the local women. He could just listen, and take in the blade of her words. There was so little he could say to her. Arash knew from her tone and words that he blew his chance with her. His impulses got the best of him, they always did. That was why Faraz was always bruised, that was why he was so disliked by everyone he spoke to. He was unable to control himself. Dealing with women, for someone who did not know how to control themselves, that was like playing with fire. Women introduced all new sorts of bad urges inside of him. He had to control his feelings more with women, and he had to control these new things... These sexual impulses... He didn't have any experience in hiding those. How could he hide those and seem emotionally stable... all at the same time? It was near impossible for him. The Egyptian flashed him, and it took all Arash could to bite his lip, and to dart his eyes towards the ground.

Just looking at her...Even when she was yelling at him...He tried to follow his Islamic morals, he tried to extract these feelings from his mind. But just as he couldn't respond to her criticism, he couldn't push away the aroussal he was feeling. He had to hide that...and now she was threatening to break everything off with the Iranian? He didn't know what to do, he had no where to let out his anger...no where to let out that other feeling.... The Iranian had a habit of shaking whenever over-emotional, he began fidgeting now.

"I just- I, s-speaking to you is not easy for me. You have...you have all this...." he paused, thinking of some way to say it without sounding immoral...or awkward. "You're very beautiful... And I'm not sure how I'm supposed to respond. You- you lead my body one way... But it's not supposed to go that way... I- I want so much to be forgiven... But then... the sight and smell of your hair, the shape of your body, the sound of your voice..." Throwing his hands up, he finally looked up to her. His large, murky eyes relayed signs of passion, of emotion that he had to do so much to hold in.

"I'm not supposed to think about women like this! I've done so much in my past...and now I try...I try to do all I can to be a good human, a good Muslim, as if some way chastity and modesty could get rid of all my previous sins, and I could be a good person... but it's so hard to think chaste thoughts around women...a-around you. These thoughts...they feel like something that is good... 'Perturbation over Beloved's hair is a good trend...' the last line of a poem my father used to read to me said..." he pulled out the small book of poems from his pocket. Hand scribed by him, they were his favourites, and the ones that fit his feelings best.

"To say all of this...You don't even understand! You...you're so beautiful...and smooth...and you're used to placing yourself in the hearts of the opposite sex. I have none of those qualities! And...and you're acting like it should be as easy for me, as it is for you! It's not!" he pulled off his hat, and threw it to the ground. A fresh burn stretched across his head, leaving another long bald patch, to make up for that other spot where the hair was just growing back. It was a gesture to emphasize how different the two looked. Stomping on the hat then, just to let out some frustration.

"I- I wanted to give you this..." he lifted up the book of poems towards her. "As if this could express what I couldn't... You can just keep it, even if you don't want to see me anymore. I'm not going to have anyone else I'd ever need to give it too!" and still quivering, he shoved the book out towards her, waiting for her to take it, before she leaved.

((TL;DR: "YOU TURN ME ON AND IDK WHAT TO DOOOO"))
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Major Glory on Sun May 29, 2011 10:21 pm

Alex had made a mistake. A grave mistake. She shouldn't have allowed herself to become desensitized to such declarations of affection. In almost every concievable form had she been wooed at some point, but this one threw her off kilter. Maybe it was because where other men with their swagger and panache would have been deemed successful, Arash- the blubbering, stammering, trembling Arash- failed, miserably at that. But there was a redeeming factor in his trainwreck of a speech. It was genuine, long-labored and choppy, but truthful. No sugar coating or offers of dinner, and what frills he did add on seemed frayed at every angle. But there was truth in his words, his face. She had no idea what "sins" he had commited to rectifying, but it was all too clear that what he saught wasn't her body, but sympathy. A friend, but obviously much, much more.

She stood there for so long, at least that's what it felt like to her. Alex must have been a sight: her pale face with nothing but astonishment and make-up painted on. Ever so slowly she tentatively reached out for the book. It must have gotten around that she was an avid bookworm. The book was handmade and of relatively poor quality, but what was on the inside was what she scanned over again and again. Scrawled in shaky Arabic were pages and pages poems. Not any that she had read before, but those of Persian origin. It was a true labor of love.

It took her several minute to be remember that she had to breathe, but she drew each carefully and silently, as if she'd scare off the Iranian and his book like deer. "What you said before about my hair and...Arash, you wrote this? All by yourself? For me?" In spite of her awe, a ghost of a smile dawned on her lips. "That's so very...undefinably...nice." So it was her turn to act the fool. Drawing the pages closed, she slowly approached this pitiful, burned man. She picked up his hat, dusted it off, and held it with her book of poetry. It was eeriely similar to the first time they met, him as awkward as ever, and she cautious and flattered. Alex stood mere inches away from the Iranian before shakily leaning up to barely brush her lips against the edge of his. It was embarressing, strangely enough. She bashfully drew her face away and focused on placing the crumpled cap to its rightful spot to cover the burn. "It seems I did misunderstand you, Arash," she whispered thoughtfully. "Can you forgive me?"
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK on Mon May 30, 2011 12:38 am

Arash...had to say, that he was not expecting this sort of response either. His expression softened in that long pause that followed her taking of the book. He had imagined that this would be over. After she spoke to him as she did, expressed her anger as she did, he imagined that there wouldn't be another chance. But his words really seemed to work this time...And his gift too... Those nights with his maman translating... He was hoping they would get a good response... But he couldn't imagine how it would actually feel to receive the response that he was now given. He had made her speechless... The gift was 'undefinably nice,' to her. His cheeks could not stop themselves from reddening.

But when she placed his lips against his...

The Iranian's body froze up, his face was even redder. The kiss was only really a brush, a brief and slight brush. An experienced lover might have thought it lame and amateur... But that was not the case for Arash. This was the first time in his life that a woman had done anything like this to him. he moment, seemed to last forever. Arash wanted it be longer. The feeling what built up inside him... Though he felt the butterflies as they flew around his stomach... He also felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It made him feel...free almost. A spell had been broken... or something like that...

Did that happen with every kiss...?

Arash stood still through the whole event. When she arranged the hat over his new, nasty burn, he also stood still. She did this act with an equivalent affection. The Iranian's face could not be redder.

"I-...." he stared to the ground once more, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Y-...I-...My...my maman helped me with the translations some...for the poems. I have the authors after each one too..." he could only begin to say, before a dryness in his thought shut him up.

Should Arash have made his own advances? The Iranian was only really capable of advancing with a smile. A very rare, kind of goofy, but profoundly genuine smile. He moved to grab her own small, soft hands in his larger and rougher ones.

"You...Of....Of course...." he smiled, holding her hand so dear in his. He would like to kiss her again, but that memory could probably satisfy him for weeks. It was his first, and the greatest...that moment...could have been one of the greatest moments of his life.

"I....I wrote some of the poems in their original language for you too...Because...the rhythm was difficult to pick up in Arabic...You...you should just read those too...even if it's difficult." he smiled, pointing at the book. "I hope...I hope you like them..." Was all he could really say. No, the suggestions did not sound romantic, but they were. In each poem, was a whole unique confession of love. These confessions were waiting just for Alexandria.

((SO AWKWARD, SORRY.))
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Wet on Tue May 31, 2011 2:19 am

((Alex you cougar, you /MURDERED

WHAT AM I EVEN DOING HERE? HERPDERP, CONTINUE~

>:V))

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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Major Glory on Tue May 31, 2011 6:19 pm

Alex couldn't help but laugh a little at his smile that seemed too childish for his weary face. If anything Arash could be quite endearing, however rare that might be. She withdrew her hands from his and instead placed them on his arm, tugging him slightly to get him to walk with her.

"Thank you very much, Arash. I still can't believe you did something like this for me," Alexandria remarked as she scanned through the pages of poems. The poems themselves were are work of art. So descriptive and clever in their wordplay, Alex kicked herself for not delving into poetic collections earlier. But it wasn't just the scholarly aspect that appealed to the Egyptian, it was the sentiment involved in the compilation. Industrialization had been around long enough to make commodities cheaper and easier to produce with machines taking the place of people more often; and yet to be given such a heartfelt and diligently scripted book was a nostalgic, but precious feat. She had a somewhat difficult time trying to decipher his shaky Arabic, but it couldn't stop the appreciative smile that was still stuck fast on her face. "You really shouldn't have, but I am always looking for new additions to my little library! And perhaps you could tutor me in Farsi?" The Egyptian woman giggled and hugged his arm, "I'd like to hear what those poems sound like in their native language."

She took the liberty of taking her guest on a small tour of Mistique through the lesser traveled pathways of the circus. It was a luxury to actually spend time with someone on her own terms, no schedules or appointments to chain her to the ring. Alexandria glanced back and forth at the Iranian every now and then to make sure he was paying attention. "I'm sorry if I scolded you too harshly back at the big top," Alex sighed and squeezed his arm apologetically. "I just didn't want to draw too much unwanted attention, more so than was already present." She laughed dryly as she glanced back to the center structure, the pastel lights still glowing within and the dull thunder of applause echoed across the field. Alexandria looked up from her book to Arash with a sudden rush of concern. "How long has that burn been there?" She barely lifted the Iranians hat, frowning at the fresh burn that was streaked across his scalp. Alexandria looked at the Iranian worriedly, "please tell me you went to the doctor when you got this." She had seen older people in her homeport with serious burns. It was unnerving to see the damage that fire could inflict. The Egyptian pulled on Arash's arm more insistantly, "we have a doctor you can see who has better equipment and medicine than what Ragtags probably has."

((ffff OLDER WOMEN HAVE NEEDS, TOO-- >:V))
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK on Tue May 31, 2011 9:39 pm

Arash allowed the girl to lead him, with another slight and somewhat embarrassed smile. They were walking together now, her hands were on him, they were alone and it was getting dark. Arash had never in his life done something like this. For his mind it was perfection. He had never imagined having something close to perfection. No, he assumed that the very word stayed as far as it could from Arash.

"Ah- yes, you must hear them in your native language. It was very difficult to translate them into your language, because your language is much less....eh--" he paused, realizing that his normal tirades against Arab culture had no place when conversing with an Arab who he happened to trying to get to like him. "Well, the poems were made to be read in Persian, when you turn them to a new language, you take away some of their beauty." Especially when you translated it into Arabic. His father would probably slap him for doing something as sacrilegious as that. But maybe not... because weren't so many of these poems about the pursuit of love? That was what Arash was doing, just as his poets had done. Pursuing love. "You would like to learn my language of course, if you appreciate these. I...If you visited again, I could help teach you... You would like it very much, I am sure." She could enjoy the poems more, and get a better understanding of Arash with it. He was a man who loved his country- his language, he carried on the highest pedestal. It was the greatest language in the world, of the greatest people in the world.

He didn't think much about his surroundings as he spoke to her. He thought of things he wanted to say to her. He took in the area, but he didn't take it in for what it was. It was just the backdrop to his first romantic experience. He paused when she lifted his hat.

Pulling it back down, he shrugged with a strong hint of discomfort. He didn't want her looking at this new, bad burn. Arash knew that this one would probably leave some permanent trace of a scar. Fortunatly his hair would mostly grow over it, but for now, he was left with a large and ugly bald burnt patch. It was very ugly. Alex wouldn't like to see it.

But she was concerned... Not about how unappealing it was, but about Arash's health. His mother had done the same thing when she saw her boy's head on fire.

"I-It's...It's fine...We have a very good doctor. He is magic almost..." But of course, he didn't like giving Arash opium. "But sometimes not so good...He doesn't like pain killers..." he frowned, pulling down the hat even tighter, just to make sure the burn was covered. "But It does not hurt so much now...It was...a few days ago, it was just a very bad day..." he stated, with a shrug. "The hair will grow back sometime... This eyebrow was completely gone a few months ago..." Arash pointed to one of them. It was half back, now.

"It is part of my job... Just like, how those dirty men become part of your job..." he paused, to look away again. "I think you would like the audience better at Ragtags... The people here seem bad."
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Major Glory on Fri Jun 03, 2011 5:35 pm

"I think any text that is as artfully assembled as this is beautiful in any language, but I suppose sequals aren't as good as the original," Alexandria craned her neck to face Arash while not missing a step. "Depending on my boss' policies, perhaps I could employ you as my part-time, private tutor in Farsi?" She pondered on with quite the solemn look on her face, "However, I can't make any definate promises," then she snapped her fingers, "but he might take a liking to you seeing as how he has an affinity for those of Oriental heritage." Alex could guess that the majority of Auguste's interests about the lands and peoples outside of Western civilization were more askew than he wanted to admit beyond what he saw his his own two eyes. Not to say that she didn't love her culture and its highlights, but the constant stereotyping was starting to grate her patience. The few carnies that she had met that hailed from the Far East were just as indignate, but tolerated the sham for the sake of keeping a job and their passport.

Alex noted the obvious discomfort that consumed Arash when that particular burn was brought to light. She frowned, slightly unsure of the face that he walked and worked with such ailments exposed and easily prone to infection, but relaxed when he revealed he had saught medical attention frequently. Whether that was a good or bad thing Alex had yet to determine. "As long as you are healthy, I suppose I could live with that answer," she sighed and llightly kissed the burn through his hat.

"How do the men react to your mother's dancing, not that I'm calling it provacative, but you know what I'm saying, don't you? Arash, I've only attended a Ragtags event once, but I've performed for incalcuable amounts of people in almost every setting imaginable. The face of the public doesn't change except with the times. There are rude men everywhere who react less than animals when I dance. I don't fufill desires, just entertain them. Nothing more, nothing less." The Egyptian paused their stroll to look her companion in the eyes. "I really did enjoy your show- really!- and I'm glad Ragtags makes you happy, but I'm not positive that I could leave Mistique. I have a nice job and...that's all I have going for me." She couldn't speak much for the tight work schedule or the sudden drop in pay thanks to a certain Frenchman.

"I hope you will understand that I'm not going to back down out of a well-paying job just because a couple of degenerates who think they have half a chance catcall at me," she laughed dryly and shook her head. "You don't back out of a show everytime you get burned, do you, Arash? No, of course not." Alexandria smoothed her thumb over the side of his face that the flames had less mercy on, beginning at the singed eyebrow and ending at his scruffy chin. "We both have to put up with these challenges, Arash. That's what I admire about you, yet also what concerns me. Have you began to think that I don't worry about what you do everyday: Performing with fire, getting burned, and saying it doesn't bother you?" She placed her forehead against his and smiled slightly. "Don't worry me, and I won't worry you. Is that a deal?"

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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK on Sun Jun 05, 2011 5:21 pm

The intimate behavior was just a little too much for Arash. Again, he had no idea how to respond when she kissed him, or touched his face, or put her sweet and beautiful head against his. Again, his inexperience would push her to make the moves in the relationship. Maybe he could-- what could he do...? Run a hand through her hair maybe...? Would she like it?

So very slowly, he lifted his rough hand to her smooth black hair. He had never touched it before. It was thick, thick like his mother's or even his own, thick and soft and beautiful. He forgot to breathe regularly as he made that move. It was such an unusual and unlikely thing for him to do. It required so much concentration and effort, to make sure that he was doing it right... Physically, the task was not hard to do, but the mental block it produced was so difficult to lift. But he was successful, as successful as his awkward and clumsy hands could be.

“You should just--” his words began to come out soft.

“A-Alex!” There was a rustling of fabric, a man emerged before them. Arash had no idea where this man came from. But when he saw him, he jumped back in shock, reflex slamming his head into Alex's. Reflex also ripped his hand from her hair, too roughly, he knew it must have hurt when he felt it slice through those loose tangles.

Auguste, the man before them, could not hide a slight laugh at the awkward Iranian. His expression became serious again, in almost the blink of the eye. “What are you doing Alex...?” And Auguste examined the man before him. He was a certainly a sight for sore eyes. Auguste couldn't tell if the man was naturally ugly- or if it was a recent development. He'd felt like he had seen him before... Somewhere...

“What are the freaks doing out? What are you doing with them, Alex?!” he snapped. Auguste had never visited the freaks in his life, but some could sometimes be seen walking around. That would explain the sense of familiarity.

“I'm not a freak! I help with the...carnival, ehhh- a stage hand.” The shorter Iranian after gathering himself together, stood his ground, carrying a degree of defiance and pride with him. He glanced to Alex, for a brief, unsure second. He needed some kind of explanation.

What kind of accent was that...? Auguste did not know this man as a stage hand. He probably was lying. The frown on his face revealed his skepticism. He wasn't buying this at all. If this man wasn't a freak, Auguste could guarantee that he did not work at this carnival. After all, who was it that handed the checks out to everyone?

“Alex, tell me who this is." Auguste asked, it, but there was no question that Arash wanted to ask the same thing.
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Major Glory on Mon Jun 06, 2011 12:25 am

Alex couldn't deny that she didn't enjoy the returned affection, better late then never after all. It felt so liberating to literally let her hair down, even for just a moment. Arash seemed particularly fascinated by her hair in a way more like a child than a man. The Egyptian laughed softly at the tentative display of affection and gazed at the Iranian through the cascades of her dark hair. Was it too intimate too soon? Would she lose face for becoming romantically involved with this homely man? Who cared, it felt good. Alexandria leaned forward, slowly, but more assured that Arash had grown more comfortable with her own advances. "Think I should what?" She murmured drawing closer to his face.

The mood suddenly evaporated when a voice that did not belong to either of them called out to the Alexandrian. She bit her lip when Arash's skull collided with her own. It would most certainly leave a bruise that would appear within the next hour or so. The sudden vacating of her follicles was also less than pleasant. Alex knew all too well who that voice belonged to, mouthing an apology to the Iranian before facing her demanding employer.

"Monsieur Bourbon! What a pleasant surprise!". She flashed a grin of surprise that was genuine for once. The Frenchman sized Arash up with all the bemusement of Sher Khan to Mowgli, but Alex stepped between the men before Arash could retaliate for the "freak" assumption. "Sir, I'd like to introduce you to an childhood, er, friend of mine, Arash." She returned to the affronted Iranian's side and wrapped her arms around one of his to solidify her claims. "We were able to reunite when the Ragtags held an open house which I attended for soley observational purposes only. He is originally from Persia where our parents first introduced us to each other." Not a total lie, but it was a lie based on solid truths.

"He doesn't work as a stagehand here- yet!". Alex interjected once more. "I apologize in his haste, but Arash was expressing some interest in possibly working under my- and your- grace as my private Farsi tutor. Regrettably, my instructions to some of our native Persian dancers has been lost in translation. Arash, being a familiar face to me as well as fluent in his national language, has offered me tutelage sessions at my own expense. While no concrete plans have been set, I have made it known that these lessons would not interfere with my shows, but rather polish them from the inside outward." Alexandria finished her statement to draw breath into her exhausted lungs. "Monsieur Bourbon, I would like you to meet my dearest friend who has been looking forward to meeting Mistique's finest ringmaster for himself." The squeeze she gave Arash's arm spoke louder than her previous introduction: do not mess this up.
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK on Sun Jun 26, 2011 4:22 pm

Arash moved forward with Alex's shove. He didn't really know what to say, but he'd make it up as he went along. He lied a lot.

“Ehh, Yes, I'm so sorry, sir, I... you frightened me at first, and I thought I would be kicked out. I haven't seen Alex in so long, so I didn't want to be kicked out... I guess lying was instinctive- And may you find it in your dear heart to forgive me for doing something like this!” he explained, moving gradually towards passion through the course of his new lie.

“But yes, I work at the ragtags... Which is why I couldn't be caught here, but to know that such a benevolent man as yourself is in charge, I know I can only speak the truth, and hopefully will go unpunished.” He reached for one of the Frenchman's hands, to show his gratitude. Auguste was a little hesitant and pretty uncomfortable about letting such a strange little man touch him, especially his hands, they were still broken. But of course, how could he deny these sorts of things? Even from this strange man. When people wanted to put themselves under him, he could not deny their doing so. So he stretched out his bandaged hand, Arash held it softly before kissing it, just as softly. Auguste was eager to return them to the safety of his pockets, so drew away right after. Unintentionally, and embarrassingly on Auguste's part, it seemed a little rude.

“Seeing as you're from the enemy, I can not help but be a little suspicious.” Auguste stated, hesitantly, examining the man a bit longer. “Why can't we just teach your dancers French, if they do not understand your commands? The important people of this carnival know French, should we learn a new language to please those below us?” Auguste obviously did not like it when people spoke languages around him that he did not understand. He hated being out of the know.

“Alex already does know some Farsi, and she is very good at learning it, I know! She has been asking me a lot through letters, we corresponded through letters before we met up again, to teach her. I have never had the chance to though, because of distance, but as we are now, it would be very easy for us to meet up and for me to teach her. It is a great language to learn, and of course, I think it would really help. I'm not supposed to help your carnival, but I have promised Alex I would help her! It's a moral obligation of mine! I could not betray my obligations like this!”

Auguste listened to the speech. A lot of it did seem like bullshit, and the guy continued and continued to layer it on. But it did bring up a valid point to mind. This adventure could help the carnival, not in the way the two intended, but if Auguste was able to send Alex to the Ragtags carnival... Surely, she would have no reservations about finding and telling him the secrets to their success.

Mystique was undoubtedly the best carnival, but the Ragtags were beginning to challenge that dominance. Competition drew money away from Auguste. It was important to get rid of that competition.

He hesitated to give a final answer, but after much thought he proposed his idea, “It's bad for us to have outsiders working here... I run a very prestigious business here, you see. But if Alex could visit you for those lessons... As long as it went with her schedule, I could not object to that.”

((fjklsdklg this took forever, i'm sorrrry, and I forgot how to write, ughh.))
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Major Glory on Sun Jun 26, 2011 8:22 pm

Alex was completely silent throughout Arash's entire speech. She swayed slightly on her feet while her hands still clutched the Iranian's arm out of suspense. He was hamming it on, but Alex was honestly surprised at how fast Arash had caught on to her ruse. August, however, seemed less than thrilled with his appearance more than anything, and was too blatant about how disapproving the entire situation was to him.

Alex slowly released the pent-up air in her lungs when Auguste finally consented to Arash's proposition. The Egyptian had speculated that Auguste was more suspicious about the possibility of any number of rumors behind his back in anything other than French or English, which was logically understandable. However, Alex still believes that the more Auguste tightened his grip around the Mystics the more would skip through his fingers. Just like what happened with Franze, it was only a matter of time.

"Oh, Monsieur Bourbon! I can't tell you how much your good faith means to me!". Alex proclaimed, honestly thankful that the half-lie had pulled off. "You have my word that my additional studies won't interfere with my job. In fact, I think it will make my routine work at a faster pace!" Establishing a social link between a fair amount dancers that spoke Farsi would hopefully prove to be beneficial in gathering a tight-knit group of supporters on an equal state of mind. By imposing that all employees involved in shows learn French, Auguste had earned a great deal of ire. Of course he probably knew this or else he wouldn't have acted so defensive around Arash. Whether the Frenchman knew the exact magnitude of the discontent was a whole other question.

"So Monsieur Bourbon," Alexandria tilted her head as she acknowledged her boss' actual presence with a more casual tone, "what brings you out on such a lovely evening? The carnival has performed rather admirably tonight; I would have thought you'd be watching your pride and joy."
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK on Sun Jun 26, 2011 11:07 pm

Arash was relieved. He wasn't really sure what he thought of this other man. It was difficult to say, really. He had to feel something about this man- he seemed pretty elite. Arash knew he was being looked down on by this man. But he had just granted Alex's visitation rights, and that was good. Something did rub him the wrong way about this guy...but the rub was softened by something else... Should he have been suspicious or not? Arash didn't know what the other carnies would think of her visits... Some of them probably wouldn't like it... But they must understand...

"Thank you so much, sir!" he continued, though it pained him to bow to authority like so... By lying he wasn't really doing that. He was just lying. "I can not show my eternal gratitude enough! To be granted this by the leader of Mystique!" he glanced back to Alex, as if to make sure that she was believing it. "I can't even believe it! I am in servitude to you for this!" he exclaimed, unable to think of the proper expressions for what he wanted to say, he just layered on some botched up ones that sounded right.

Auguste glanced hesitantly at Alex. Everything with Auguste was taken by subtle cues, verbal tics or facial tics. With his present expression he made it clear that he did not approve in her choice of men. Surely she must have not been sexually close to this person? It would be a terrible insult to know that she sustained a relationship with such a homely and strange person, while rejecting the advances of someone as handsome and charming as Auguste considered himself to be.

"It's nothing, I am just looking out for the prosperity of our carnival..." He said to Arash. "But I would not call it my... pride and joy..." and he continued to Alex. Far from it. If anything, he was ashamed of being the leader of this carnival. He did not like being associated with these carnie types. Even though, he felt that he had classed up the place significantly, it was still a carnival.

"Ah...Is it, then? I have not been feeling very well lately...." The pain in his hands mostly... But admittedly, after conversing with Franze, his conscience had taken a toll on him. That mixed with more nightmares, more homesickness, and various other problems that were also becoming more and more pervasive did leave him feeling pretty... depressed. "I don't like the atmosphere inside the Big Tent, but I thought today it might feel nice to get some fresh air. Somehow I've managed to notice that our security does not do a very good job..." He sighed, seeming to exert all his normally boundless energy out as he did so.

"It's getting late, Alex. Escort your friend home..." He started to leave.

"But meet me in my car after...." he whispered quietly in passing.
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Major Glory on Mon Jun 27, 2011 2:42 pm

The Egyptian woman's features lightened up considerably as if all the strain her facial muscles went through just to maintain focus suddenly melted away. She glanced between the two men who were both still trying to assess the other with that unspoken language that men seemed to excell at.

"I seriously can't describe my gratitude towards this, Monsieur Bourbon," she lowered her head to emulate humility, when inside she was grinning like the cat that ate the canary. Something had actually worked out in her favor! No doubt Auguate had his own agenda to worry about, Alex knew better than to think that he would let just anyone take leave to the opposition's circus. And why wasn't he satisfied with his own circus? She had noticed a definate downward spiral in her boss' attitude, but attributed it only to Franze taking her ex-lover down several notches on the pride ladder. That was really his own fault, but Alex thought that he would have learned his lesson by now. The Frenchman was nearly bereft with the doldrums. If he didn't want the carnival, why dis he insist on staying? Well, Auguste did clean up the place and if he sold it that meant that Alex was just one of many pieces of property that would be exchanged into God knows who else's hands.

"I am so sorry to hear that, sir," Alexandria shook her head in a sympathetic manner. "I hope that your fortunes and spirits are lifted as soon as possible." She was serious about her last statement; when Auguste wasn't happy, no one would be happy, at least no one who worked at Mystique. The woman silently tugged on Arash's sleeve for them to depart. Auguste also made his way around them, but not before leaving Alex with a cryptic invitation. She was uneasy about the new order, but didn't want to blatantly refuse lest he revoke her Ragtag-visiting privileges. She shook her head quickly and hastened her pace with the Iranian somewhat faster.

It wasn't long before the two of them reached the gate of Mystique. Alex glanced at the dimly illuminated road before smiling sadly. "I apologize if my employer interrupted the majority of the evening. I told you he was strict about trespassers," she giggled a bit before picking a lantern off of a light post. "While I would enjoy walking more with you, I am not sure about returning by myself at this hour." She held the Iranian's rough palms against her own, drawing slightly closer to him. "I wish that I could go with you now, but it is late and I have a show first thing in the morning. Alex stood on her toes to kiss him once more, still as chaste but lingering slightly longer than the last. "When would be the best time for our lessons?"
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK on Mon Jun 27, 2011 5:32 pm

Arash watched Auguste as he left, a look of ease overcame him. (It was lucky he did not hear what was whispered... or quite the opposite would have happened.) He was relieved to see the man gone, he felt almost comfortable, until the tug forward reminded him that he was going to be alone with Alex, again. And again, he tensed up, especially since he could now feel her touch. But as they neared the road heading out to Mystique, and as he noticed just how alone they were, he felt a touch of that calm again.

The lights of the Big Top blared, and the music and noise and laughter and gasps and cheers could easily be heard from the audience and their entertainers, the Big Top seemed to be a world away. Because nobody straddled outside, except the two now. They were allowed to be the only humans to visibly occupy the space before them. He didn't feel like this oppurtunity was being given as temptation, his emotions led him to think that this was right. This lonesomeness was oneness, and it was right, completely right.

He took the lantern placed between their vastly different hands. They kissed, only for a second more than before, but that still meant so much more. He was still embarassed, but maybe less so, red could have ran to his cheeks, but his olive skin refused to display any such emotion.

"I-You're you should sleep then...If your show is early..." He smiled. "It's fine..." And no, he would not feel safe with her returning on her own. Something bad could happen, anyways, it was a good distance. Arash was not allowed a car. He wasn't trusted to drive them around on his own. But he was a man, he was safe on his own.

"I...Soon....Soon, I hope, soon for what fits your schedule...And ours! We have shows almost every day...Except Sundays.... I think that's how most things work here... Your carnival too? But they probably, at the carnival would be suspicious if you came every Sunday..." He paused, many people at the carnival seemed to be hostile to the type from Mystique... That knew girl, though welcomed eventusally, was met with that hostility. He had no doubt Alex would be as well. It would have to be something of a secret. "They're very friendly, the Ragtags... But a lot are... we have to be cautious, too..." So many had come from criminal backgrounds, from downtrodden families or broken homes, it was difficult being friendly to the Mystics.

"But whatever fits you... I'm sure it can fit me too!" and a slight smile awkwardly crafted itself onto his face.
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Major Glory on Mon Jun 27, 2011 10:33 pm

Arash may not have been the most attractive or wealthy men that the Alexandrian had met, but he possessed a certain lack of charm that seemed even more endearing. He would need some better articulation speech-wise, but Alex felt like she could help him improve given enough time. To his credit, he could think on the fly and adapt well to (most) pressure.

"I think that would be just wonderful," she smiled, white teeth luminated by the warm flame of the lantern. "I am sure that we can manage, Arash, and I can meet your friends from last time, and also Sophia!" The Egyptain's mind often wandered to the blind girl who was spirited away not too long ago. From what she had heard, the Ukrainian woman had been doing so much better than ever before. Simply astounding.

Alex waved the Iranian off, still standing a while after the glimmer of the lamp faded into the deep night. It was strangely uncomfortable for Alexandria to stand alone as she did. Normally, she was undaunted with making trips by her lonesome, but there was something about the night that she didn't quite trust. It was what was concealed by the night that was the main concern. She drew her robe closer to her form as the prarie winds whipped up dust clouds around her feet. Turning her back to the gate, the Egyptian woman quietly made her way down the main strip that led to the Big Tent. The crowds were long gone, but the stage workers were still working well into the night to prepare for the next days rounds.

Between the roads were the caravans that were divided by rank and gender. Alex made short time in navigating through the men's side until she had reached the more elaborately decorated wagon of the ringleader. Alex pursed her lips, apparently the chat of budget cuts need not apply to someone like Auguste. Alex wished that Franze was still present to keep the Frenchman in his place. Hesitating for a moment, Alex glanced at the shuttered windows for any sign of occupancy. Dimly lit lights flickered from within. Candles. A blatant safety violation. Alex slowly crept up the short stairs until she reached out to tap the door.

"Monsieur Bourbon? Are you well?" Alexandria whispered against the door, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention.
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK on Tue Jun 28, 2011 1:05 am

Arash made his trip down the road, he had walked this road alone before. It lead to the city, so he had to. But today felt so different. He thought about her, and it felt good. He thought about the things a boy and a girl of their ages could do together, and it was wrong, but it felt good. He had a smile on his face, if he meant it to be there or not. The street was empty, the fields were empty, but the lantern- the lantern she gave him illuminated his path. The beloved was his guide. Though he was alone, he did not feel lonely. The image of a woman, a beautiful woman who spoke wise words and expressed restrained but deep feelings was there.

The young Iranian had felt like he had strayed from God when he had attempted the unmentionable to his father. But now maybe he was being led back. His father, the thought came briefly, would his father approve of this? Was it not his father who celebrated love? But could he have seem such a dishonorable son as deserving of affectionate emotions? ...Maybe it did not matter right now what his father would think...

Maybe Arash's heavy conscience could be lifted from him for once. No doubt, when he came home to see the remnants of the family he broke he would feel that surge of guilt. But right now, his conscience could be momentarily free. It felt nice.

------------

As soon as Auguste returned to his car, that same feeling of oppression took over. He felt it so often in the Big Tent, mostly because he could not stand to be surrounded by those idiots in the audience or on stage. But now he felt the same feeling when surrounded by himself. And now without Franze, he was always surrounded by himself. The consequences of his actions were now everywhere. Somehow, through the course of things, he had gained absolute control of the carnival. He had his carnival molded in his image, it became him. But all the while, he continued to hate his carnival. More than anything, he wanted to get away from this place. Surely he did not feel the same way about himself...?

But he wouldn't mind getting away from himself right now.

He needed a drink. Not wine. Something stronger.

He moved to the small but cared for kitchen. Taking his gloves off on the counter, he reached for some of the pastis in his cabinet. But it hurt so much to reach for anything! Just to get the bottle out was excruciatingly painful... But to open it...

And then he heard his guest at the door. It took her much quicker than expected to come over. He didn't even get a chance to clean up... His car looked messier than usual. The sheets were not made since Crina's last visit. There were bottles lying around, still. Dishes were piling up in the sink. It did not reflect well on himself. But it was so painful to do these otherwise mundane tasks.

He'd pay Alex to clean his dishes or something.

“Yes, yes, Come in!” he called, slipping his gloves back on again. It would seem weird to wear gloves in the house, but Auguste did a lot of things that others would deem as strange. “You must excuse my mess...I didn't expect you here so soon, I just got inside..."
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Major Glory on Tue Jun 28, 2011 2:15 pm

Needless to say that Alex was not expecting the sheer amount if clutter from someone the likes if Auguste. Upon entering the wagon, she quickly redirected her eyes to her employer with a quick, reassuring smile. "Oh, I understand that you are a busy man and things tend to get away when doing business. My room is worse with all the books and shelves," the Egyptian woman shook her head and laughed softly. "It is difficult to attend to private quarters when one spends so much time working in the public eye."

Alex walked into the sitting area where she, Piter and Auguste had conversed earlier in the week. The overall appearance of the cabin was a reflection of it's host, impeccablly well-maintained outward but something much more melancholy stewing beneath the surface. Alex hadn't a chance to speak to the European in a while, not including the previous encounter just a few minutes prior. He looked somewhat sickly and rushed. Was the responsibility of maintaining the carnival finally taking its toll on Auguste?

"I ask that you please forgive my lax appearance; I fear that I didn't have time to freshen up lest I be late. That certainly wouldn't bode well at all," she ran her fingers through her long bangs to remove the more unruly wind-whipped tangles. "What is it that you wished to speak to me about, Monsieur Boubon?" She bit her tongue to keep the prying question of what was the true cause of his depression at bay. No need to pry into personal matters just yet. "I also apologize for the short notice visit of my friend, but that was a one-time visit. All others will be held at Ragtags as per your instructions."
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  MOSSAD TRAINED SHARK on Tue Jun 28, 2011 4:21 pm

"Yes, yes, this has been a very busy week for me," he laughed, carefully moving to his counter, grabbing a glass. "Come here, I need some assistance, please... Do you want a drink...?" He normally gave her his drinks weather she liked it or not, but strong liqueur really often was an aquired taste. She seemed a very casual drinker, though she took whatever Auguste gave her. He assumed that was often out of courtesy. Everyone (excluding those like Auguste) had to be a casual or uninterested drinker here. The stuff was illegal.

“Ah, that is fine.” He smiled. “I see no need for you to worry about your appearance, anyways... I'm sure you would not need to bother with it when held with your former company,” A slight laugh followed at his subtle diss. “But, no, really....” He turned back to her. “I like seeing you in the clothing you use to perform.” Though she was covering up over it now, he still could see some of the costume under her robe. “You know, it is with my money that we buy these outfits? It's good to see someone fit them... and of course, dance as well in them as you do.” Auguste had always been a fan of dance. He'd even practiced it at one point, but of course, that would not be mentioned. It undermined his masculinity. “It's a pleasure to know that we do have something other than the freak show, here. I'm sorry about the freak show comment to your friend, by the way, surely you can understand where I would make that mistake?”

Did all those in Ragtags look like that...? He heard they did not have a freak show, but they were still only one place away from Mystique. His expression made a quick turn for the serious, a very rare expression for the Frenchman. Small talk, he indicated was going to subside.

“You should not have had this friend over without my permission. I have no idea what you two were doing behind our scenes, but this is a private area. For staff only. I've heard rumors spark up that the Ragtags stole our blind girl. You were at that scene, no? If I see him, or any of those people in my carnival again, punishments will be dealt. Do you understand?”

And he pointed to the pastis.“Now, Can you open that bottle for me...”
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Re: How She Entrances [Iran/Private]

Post  Major Glory on Tue Jun 28, 2011 7:30 pm

Laughing with him, Alexis reached for one glass and one glass only. She wasn't used to drinking as much as she used to when she was younger. Really she wasn't supposed to drink at all. She exchanged the glass in order to examine the bottle of liqueur. "Oh, I recognize this drink. The French soldiers that used to loiter in the dance halls couldn't get enough of it."

She giggled and covered her mouth shyly. "Monsieur Bourbon, you are as generous with compliments as you are privileges!" Examining the luxurious detail that was embossed into her jewelry, Alex smiled at the Frenchman. "I am happy that my skills are proficient enough for your standards." Her coy grin remained frozen on her face, even if she was slightly taken aback by his subtle jab at her choice of companions. "I understand your confusion, but he didn't always look like that, you see. His looks have been severly impacted by his job at Ragtags. He performs with fire to support his family. He is a kind soul, really," Alex lightly touched Auguste's arm in order to stir any empathy that the man may still have possessed.

"And contrary to popular belief, not so much! While they are mainly people of humble origins, they do have a sort of rustic charm that seems to ring with the less wealthy dispora which seems to be the majority in this region, and which might also explain their rise in profits."

She somewhat expected to be repremanded for her actions, and she took the verbal warnings with a straight face. However, Alex furrowed her brow at the information about the Ragtags and their latest addition. "I didn't see nor hear any sign of her that one time I visited. And when I saw those men the freak yard, I also assumed they were freaks. They were a motley bunch for sure. Yet I didn't see them leave with the Ukranian. Still, I can't confirm who they were. Perhaps they were just vagabonds?". Alexandria leaned her head onto her fingertips as if in deep thought.

Her host remained adamant that no events of the like were repeated. Alex solemnly nodded and lowered her eyelids in submission. That wasn't a problem, in fact it helped her remain out of Auguste's radar for the short while she visited the other carnival. "I ask that you forgive my impetuousness, Monsieur Bourbon. He was the only Ragtag that I knew personally, but I will refreign from doing so in the future. I understand that you are a busy man, and I don't wish to disrupt your efforts in any way," she stated while she twisted the top from the pricey bottle of sweet-smelling liqueur.

"And if I may be so bold as to inquire as to what has you in such discomfort? Are you unwell?" The Egyptian poured the precious drink for her employer. "I certainly hope that you are fit enough to operate Mystique; we'd be at a loss without your leadership."





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