Do You Know What I'm Seeing [Transylvania/Public]

It was a busy night by brothel standards, but that wouldn't stop the young prostitute from taking a well-deserved break. Even if it were a brief one...and her brother would soon be searching for her.

Crina wandered down the line of cars, running her fingers along the bars. It was a pleasant night, not too cold, not too breezy, and the moon was full, giving light to her unmarked path across the Carnival yards. It reminded her a lot of home, with the exception of the caged animals and humans, and it made her feel sick.

The Transylvanian stopped in front of the elephant car and rubbed her moist eyes. "I'm such a child.." She laughed half-heartily, gazing at the large creature as if it understood. "I bet you want to go home too, huh..?" Its ears twitched in response.

She gave a small smile, stepping forward.

Crina wrapped a delicate hand around the cool iron bars and pressed her face as best she could through the space between. Her other hand hesitantly reached out to pet the animal, letting out soft cooing noises to draw it closer.

"C'mon...Come over here..."

She snapped and whistled, her method anything but effective. If she kept it up, she'd be standing there the rest of the night.

(tbh, Elephants creep me out. Along with giraffes...xD ALSO, LAME TOPIC IS LAME. Sorry. :C IjustwantedtopostwithP!atDsongstitleshurr)

((I need to learn to wait to give someone else a chance to reply. :( I'M SORRY I AM JUST BORED--/sob))

They purposely put him next to the animals. The smell and general squalor aggravated his cough and even occasionally caused him to gag and vomit blood, for the disgusted delight of the carnival-goers. The management took every chance to ensure that his health was kept right at the brink, to keep him at maximum sickliness while ensuring he didn't contaminate anyone or snuff it altogether. ...Or so they hoped. There was no guarantee he wouldn't just drop dead any day now.

Even his clothes were pretty sub-par, considering that most of the Mistique freaks were dressed to be at least presentable in their freakishness. The too-big jacket they gave him didn't close, which was extremely uncomfortable considering there was no shirt underneath. Being Muslim (albeit a liberal one), he generally felt like both men and women ought to dress conservatively.

That being said, he certainly knew why he was dressed that way. Most of the creeping black splotches engulfing his body were concentrated in his torso, and that was what was mainly being showcased. The Black Death.

A sign hung on his car, covered in metal bars just like the elephant one adjacent to it, which advertised what he was and where he came from, as well as a reassurance to visitors: "OUR PATRON'S SAFETY IS ALWAYS OUR FIRST PRIORITY; THERE IS NO RISK OF CONTRACTING ANY DISEASE FROM 'THE LIVING DEATH', BUT PLEASE REFRAIN FROM STICKING HANDS INSIDE THE CAGE OR ATTEMPTING TO FEED IT. THANK YOU. ~The Management"

What the hell. 'Living Death'? Clever. Who came up with this crap, seriously? And they acted like he was a rabid animal that would bite the unwary should they stray too close. As it was, though, the sign was probably unnecessary. Most people kept their distance anyways.

In fact, it had been a relatively quiet night for him (freaks weren't really as popular as the brothels at this time of the day) when the girl had approached the elephant cage. Once upon a time, he might have noted her attractiveness and wondered hopelessly if she was married or not, but now...now he'd just gotten over a violent coughing fit and couldn't summon enough energy to care, really. He did notice her rubbing her eyes, though, and wondered if she worked for Mistique, too. If so, he had no doubt there was a reason to cry. This place was awful. (Then again, he might have suspected her to be one of the beautiful people, except that they tended not to frequent these parts.)

"You have to offer it food, then it'll come," he advised in a helpful but glum tone. One day, he would probably learn to stop trying to talk to passerby, but he couldn't help himself.

((Captain Despondency. :I Why is this so long I'm sorry--))

(PFFFFFT- IT'S COO', IT'S COO' B) xD Replies are always welcome guuuurl)

"You have to offer it food, then it'll come,"

Crina's shoulders tensed. She wasn't expecting anyone else to be around, which was silly of her; This was a carnival after all.

Her fingers unwrapped from the bars and she stepped back, glancing left then right. Not a single person in sight, she was almost tempted to call out for the phantom voice...until she noticed the car next to her. Immediately, she forgot how to breath.

It was one of the 'attractions'; A rather pale, rather sickly man covered in black blotches. He looked as if he had seen much better days (or maybe not). And was that.. blood?

Had she not felt a sudden panic rise up in her, Crina would have felt absolutely awful for the..Her eyes flashed up to the sign above his cart.

'The Living Death'

Oh Lord.

A few moments past before she collected herself enough to speak. "I don't have any food." The Transylvanian quickly changed her tone to a less blunt, less shaken one.

"What does it eat..?"

Inch by inch, she moved closer until she met a comfortable distance from the car.

Oh. She looked terrified. He didn't really blame her, it was the natural response. A small feeling of panic did rise up somewhere in his stomach, but he always attributed that to human nature. Fear of being rejected and whatnot. When would he get used to it? Maybe never.

Holding in a cough with some difficultly (no need to make it seem worse than it already was), he cleared his throat and pointed to the bottom of the elephant cage, "There's hay there, it might take that if you hold it out." He'd seen kids do it sometimes, their faces delighted when the enormous trunk reached out to sniff and accept the simple offering. He didn't know what made the hay held up by a small hand any more appealing than what was already available on the ground, but the elephants did, it seemed. Maybe they were smarter than he knew, maybe they also liked to see the joyful expressions.

Still feeling a little nervous that he was being misjudged, he added, "It's--I'm not contagious. If I were, everyone would probably be dead already..." With a shaky laugh, he broke into wheezing coughs, doubling over as he collected himself. When he could straighten up again, he pointed up to the spot where the sign would be, outside the cage, and added tiredly, "And my name's not..." He couldn't say it. "It's Adilet."

She did as he instructed, walking back to the cage and picking up a handful of hay. Crina held out her hand once more and just as he had said it would, the elephant acknowledged her. She listened to the other speak as she brushed her fingers against the animal's trunk. A weak smile grew on her face.

Not contagious? That was nice to hear, though it offered little comfort. Especially not when he began to go into a coughing fit. Crina's brows furrowed with worry. He wasn't going to croak here and now was he? Another wave of panic washed over her. What should she do? Call for help or--

He finally composed himself and gave his name weakly.

"Crina." She offered quietly in return. The Transylvanian felt a sudden pang of guilt. Adilet already knew the assumptions she was making about him.

"Are you..Are you going to be alright?" It was a dumb question, but she was never good with making small talk to begin with.

Crina? Not a name he'd heard around here before. Then again, he only knew the freaks, really, and she obviously wasn't one of them. There was always a chance that she was one of the prostitutes, but...it seemed very wrong to assume that about any young woman. He would just have to give her the benefit of the doubt and go on the assumption that she was one of the nicer customers, or a stage hand, or even one of the beautiful people--though the latter he'd have to take with mountainous grains of salt.

"Yeah, I'm fine." A total lie, if there ever was one. "I was, uh, born like this." Wait, that was a lie, too. Hastily, he corrected himself, "But--I don't always look like...I mean..." He wiggled the black fingers on his left hand indicatively. It was only because of the squalid conditions that he and the rest of the freaks lived in that his illness had gotten to this point. He didn't even know if it was reversible, but he felt he owed it to himself to at least make it clear that he hadn't always looked like he was on the brink of death.

...Then again, if she was a customer, he wasn't really supposed to divulge such information.

"Er, do you work here?" He posed the question nervously, not sure what kind of answer he'd get.

She tilted her head, trying to picture what he looked like before-- or rather when he wasn't as sick as he was. He would still have the same red hair, wide eyes, maybe be a lot less pale...

Not too different she supposed.

Then came the question about her job. Crina's gaze fell on the ground in shame.
"Yes.."

She was now debating with herself; Tell him she was a prostitute or leave it at 'yes'? The latter would or wouldn't cause for more probing questions yet the former would immediately make her appear like scum. ..Not that Crina didn't deserve to be thought as such. She was too quick to assume the worst of the fellow (and still held some fear). Adilet earned every right to be disgusted with her.

The Transylvanian sighed and motioned her hand to the distance. "In the brothel..a little ways off from the main tent,"

"It's not enjoyable though." She quickly added, as if to make her job seem less..immoral.