Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

The Menagerie >>Haruchai and Gypsy<<

Haruchai

Haruchai

As you wish.
Joined
Sep 27, 2011
Location
United States (CST)
London, Late Summer of 1888​

The cool September morning met James with no small amount of rain and fog. The Ringmaster had awakened just after daybreak and donned his cloak, heading out of his wagon and moving along the perimeter of the grounds that they had been alotted in the vicinity of Hyde Park. James had tried his best to get the venue at Astley's, now Spanger's Amphitheatre. Unfortunately, the various sideshow acts that his show provided was deemed unacceptable for the indoor venue. So as it was they had taken the day before to set up their huge tents, and the performers were still housed in their traveling carriages, huge covered wagons that acted as their homes out on the road.

James always liked visiting London. The sheer bustle of the place was electric and the audiences spread news of the menagerie by word of mouth. Profit here was always high. Of course, profit was not everything but money made the world go round after all. A nod given as the young man named Bennie handed him the day's newspaper. Folding it and tucking it beneath his arm without really looking at it, James walked along the perimeter of the traveling show he called home. Bennie, the one who had handed him the paper, was the son of one of the many acts, the swordswallower. Bennie himself ate fire and had a penchant for setting things ablaze if not watched closely. That might be why it seemed the edges of his morning paper were somewhat singed.

James stopped outside of the wagon and accompanying tent wherein Lorelei, aka Alice, stayed. The small blonde had captured his interest and James considered fo only a moment before he entered. There was no place in the Show that was barred to the Ringmaster, and James came and went as he pleased. The early morning London fog still clung to the ground and from what he could see Alice was still sleeping. James was trying to foster the relationship between them, and in recent days had taken to accompanying the lovely young woman to breakfast. Today, unless she refused to go, would be no exception.

Moving to the large pallet she slept on, the smell of her hung heavy in the air. A not unpleasant smell all told, and James observed her a moment, the swell of her hip as she lay curled on the blankets and the thin mattress. The walking cane in his hand rapped several times on the corner of the huge locked trunk in her room.

"Time to wake and break your fast, lovely Alice!" he said, raising the volume of his voice a bit so as to rouse her from her slumber. "I hope to take you to breakfast this morning. Walk with me and see some of the sights of London." he said, hoping to entice her with the opportunity to get out and actually walk the streets. What could it hurt? She would get out of her confines for awhile and James would be seen with quite the fetching young woman upon his arm. There was no loss here, for either of them.

James gently poked her lovely behind with the tip of his cane, smiling salaciously at how firm and rounded it was. "Come and prepare yourself sleepyhead. I know you must be hungry."
 
It was a just dream, a vividly intense one at that. Had it not been a figment of her imagination, Lorelei would have been utterly exhausted. What commenced as an innocent yet private performance before the Ringmaster in his wagon as per his request altered into a risqué exhibition which advocated hands-on interaction well into the night… or so she dreamt. Consciousness dawned on her prematurely, before any salacious feat could begin in her reverie, and freed her from the tendrils of her subconscious in the middle of the night. Any attempt to succumb to slumber was thwarted by her restive mind and perspiring body, a peculiar reaction on a hyemal September night, leading to her denuding. Only when it was the crack of dawn did fatigue decide to embrace her with sleep.

However, the reprieve was short-lived when a deep baritone and a noisy clattering reverberated in her mind, shattering her time of repose like fragmented glass. The presence in her tent was unquestionable, for only one would ever dare enter her quarters so early in the morning without consent. The Ringmaster's ambiance was power personified, energy harnessed, commanding the attention of even those who straddled the line between wakefulness and unconsciousness. As if to ratify her presumptions, the intrusive prodding of a familiar staff on her rear justified her thoughts. Not only did it elicit a disgruntled groan from Lorelei, it also conjured a long, sable and furred prehensile tail which emerged from the thin sheet, resembling a spider monkey's. It curled about the Ringmaster's cane and, with an abrupt yank, filched it from his grasp.

"I had hoped to sleep in, Ringmaster," Lorelei muttered as she rose, a vision of disheveled locks with dark, sleepless shadows under her eyes , masking her nude form with the coverlet as she twisted to face the root of her insomnia. "I'm terrible company for the morning today. I hardly slept." At the tip of her tongue rested her refusal but before it could be uttered, the esurient growl of her stomach contravened it. No longer would she be able to deny him if the hunger pangs already manifested audibly. Employing his cane as her support to slide off the pallet, she stood and ventured to her trunk. "But my appetite needs to be replenished, it seems."

Modesty was the last thing she had in her sleep-deprived mind. The sheet she swathed her body with scarcely concealed her rear as she procured her garments, exposing a generous view of her lightly tanned back, her shapely posterior and the slender caudal appendage protruding from her coccyx. Her customary apparel soon clothed her in swift efficiency without granting the individual she knew could not be ushered out from her tent so easily a chance to take a gander of her nakedness. A dark green turtleneck top and a sepia-toned chiffon salwar garbed Lorelei, revealing a taut torso that would soon be hidden underneath a mahogany raincoat. Slender fingers adjusted the fabric cinched around her neck such that it aptly veiled the tattoo that surfaced on her flesh the first time her abilities was tapped. It was an eye-catching embellishment on her skin with its silvery white luster against her complexion, the primary reason why she kept it hidden, for it illumed whenever she exercised her powers.

Then, she lifted the flap of her coat to display the attire which vastly differed from the mode of dressing in London to the Ringmaster. "I'm almost certain I would be frowned upon in these clothes if I were to reveal it," she stated, returning the cane to him after the foreign tail faded. "I have none of those dresses the women wear, and frankly, I don't care much for them. They look far too uncomfortable for breathing."​
 
James' mere soupcon of a smile never truly betrayed his innermost feelings as he allowed the cane to be taken from his grasp. After all, allowing Lorelei to do so gave him a look at her lovely backside and his eyes slipped along her nubile form barely hidden beneath the sheet as she rose. Taking a respectable step back he observed the lovely Alice as she went about getting dressed.

"Your company is always quite nice." he lied, having seen her in some of her worst moods, the animal side of her riled and predatory at times. Not that she had ever scared him, though keeping her company at times would certainly have been trying.

James fought the urge to actually go to her, to allow his fingers to glide over silken flesh as the sight of her feminine curves stirred within him a base need. He had little time to reflect upon this carnal desire when Lorelei approached and showed him her choices of wardrobe.

"You look fine, and dresses are overrated. The only reason the women wear such is to impress upon us their busts, and because the skirts are easy to lift." Perhaps it was true, perhaps not, but the women in London were not as proper as they liked to let on. "You look ravishing." he complimented and this time there was nothing but veracity in his tone. James was quite taken with Lorelei and had been for several weeks now, though he tried to keep his desire hidden. Whether the Ringmaster did so for his own benefit, or for hers, was unclear. Perhaps even to him.

Retrieving his cane from the woman he stepped a bit closer, his fingers brushing nonchalantly along the curve of one hip. "Shall we ask anyone to join us, or will we be taking only ourselves?" he asked, eyes alight with amusement and if she looked close enough, that darker desire that swam just below the surface. Of course he hoped it would just be the two of them, yet he would not deny her should she wish other accompaniment.

--Streets of London--​

Soon enough they were exiting Hyde Park, and James had elected to travel on foot, disregarding the carriage that they could have taken. He found that walking stirred the blood in pleasurable ways and even with the cane he had offered his arm to the comely shifter, both a kindness and a statement to all who saw them.

"The city is alive with smells and soundsthis morning, dearest Lorelei. Should any place catch your interest just let me know." he told her with a genuine smile.
 
His forthright response inspired a hearty laughter, his repartee the root of her amusement. However, if she hadn't discerned the promiscuous looks he directed at her whilst redressing, his compliment unquestionably enlightened her. The flap of her coat fell and the clearing of her throat ensued, though if it was birthed by the increase in their propinquity or the recollection of her dream, Lorelei wasn't quite certain. Her moonlit reveries were still fresh in her mind, and it did naught to appease her imagination and suspicions.

Before Lorelei could take advantage of the prospect of including another individual, the coincidental emergence of the snake charmer into her tent interrupted her. Surprise diffused on his attributes upon noticing she was not alone.

A tall, gaunt-looking man with peculiar mismatched hazel-black eyes, a flaxen mop of hair and a wan complexion that seemed perpetually drained of color greeted the duo with a decorous bow after recovering from his initial perplexity. Salazar was his name, Bill the Lizard was his personation, a snake charmer Lorelei had befriended in the entourage. One of the main acts in Wonderland, but she had yet to see him perform upon her affiliation. Stories of spectacles and séances was what Salazar entertained Lorelei with, weaving webs of intrigue and paranormal in her mind. Aside from his chronicles, what she was also allured with were his reptiles. Serpents, lizards, tortoises and alligators of all shapes and compact sizes were in his care. These creatures were quite foreign to her. Not much were present back home save for a choice few.

It was he who Lorelei extended her invitation to after hearing of the news he bore.

"A séance, Ringmaster." Lorelei reiterated, strolling alongside the orchestrator of their little ragtag band of performers in the streets of London with Salazar trailing behind. The smile etched on his visage was mirrored on hers, if not a little more jubilant than his. "Salazar says one is about to happen in Whitechapel not long from now. May we go after breakfast? I would love nothing more than to visit. All talk of ghosts and spirits has piqued my interest. Are they real? Is it a hoax? What sort of devilry is this? It has been gnawing at me ever since I've heard of it. Perhaps we might even derive inspiration from it in our show tonight."

Hyde Park was a little a ways from a coffee-house which wafted off the most heavenly fragrances Lorelei had caught a whiff of in awhile. In their leisurely walk, the savory aroma had stimulated her appetite and watered her mouth. It appeared that the effect was not at all personal, for the miniature crowd that accumulated in front of a shop with Bertha's Bakery imprinted on a high shingle informed Lorelei of its reputation upon their approach.​
 
The appearance of Salazar had James' eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. There was no claim on Lorelei of course and yet a frisson of what could only be described as jealousy ran briefly through the Ringmaster, though his face betrayed no such weakness, though should one pay particular attention they might notice how he stood just a tad bit closer to the blonde woman now on his arm. It was no coincidence either that Salazr walked slightly behind them, and James took no small amount of pleasure in that simple fact.

As Lorelei spoke of the séance James kept his own counsel, lips tight sealed for the moment. It was not that he was a non-believer in such paranormal and supernatural events. Quite the contrary, as one might expect of the man who presided over the Menagerie. James simply thought that the spirits of the restless dead should not be disturbed. There was a reason they were restless after all and the living need not concern itself with such things lest one glean knowledge unwanted. That was what it truly was, despite any argument to the contrary. Were men meant to know what existed beyond the veil then their insights would come naturally and not through some specific formula, inscription or ritual.

James knew his manners though and did respect Salazar in his more mundane capacity - which was to tame and charm reptiles. In that he was exceedingly exceptional. It did not go unnoticed that the man had remained silent, and yet Lorelei had said that he spoke of a séance. Was there some communication between the two that he had missed? Once more that pang of jealousy, and James plastered the smile on his face as they approached the coffee house. The question from Lorelei brought him from his thoughts and he smiled at the woman, reaching across his body to pat her arm.

"Of course we may go. I will procure us a carriage for that particular trip however, since Whitechapel is far from here." To that effect he caught the attention of a young man at a street corner, a runner, a courier, and conveyed the message to the lad. With a nod the youngster was off and this left Lorelei, James and Salazar to wait with the growing crowd. Luckily once the personnel of Bertha's Bakery got the initial orders out of the way, the crowd seemed to disperse quickly, leaving room for the trio to have a seat and get their coffee and even a few pastries. James ordered two danishes to go with his coffee and took a seat, unconcerned at the moment on where Lorelei and Salazar were as he opened his paper.

There, blazoned across the headlines was the announcement of a murder. Which by itself may have garnered a mere glance from James. However, the location gave him pause and he read further about the woman found mutilated in Whitechapel. A prostitute from the looks of it. James' brow furrowed and though details so far were sketchy he laid the paper out for Salazar and Lorelei to see when they took their seats.

"It seems like perhaps our dear Salazar is quite the newsmonger. How heard you of this ritual tonight?" James asked of the man, curious.
 
Glee was evident in Lorelei's features as soon as the Ringmaster conceded to her request. Even though she was certain the Salazar heard of the Ringmaster's acquiescence, she couldn't help but impart her elation with a brilliant grin and an affirming nod over her shoulder. Her enthusiasm blinded her from the conflicting expressions that were veiled beneath the Ringmaster's mask of charisma. As the initial throng thinned and granted the trio ingress, Lorelei filed into the establishment, hot on the Ringmaster's tail. Unbeknownst to her, Salazar, on the other hand, lagged behind, his attention captured by the multifarious menu that stood sentry by the entrance to Bertha's Bakery. Only then did she halt and retrace her steps to retrieve the snake charmer.

"Salazar," Lorelei chimed, tugging the wan male's wrist. "Inside. We'll eat inside."

"I can't underssstand it." Salazar confessed with an audible sibilant diction present in his speech, gesturing to the chalky calligraphy written on the static sandwich board of the menu, hardly budging from Lorelei's ministrations. "How will I know what to choose?"

Lorelei paused and scrutinized the lettering thoughtfully. "Worry not. I'll order for you. Sit with the Ringmaster. I'll be right there."

The delicacies the coffee-house served were foreign to Lorelei, having been accustomed to effortless grub on the road. Thus why it led to a bit of random selection on her part once Salazar took his seat opposite to the Ringmaster. Once the order had been issued, the palpable tension that eclipsed the two men upon her approach elicited the knitting of her brows. Salazar appeared to maintain a strained stoniness as the Ringmaster spoke. Fortunately, she caught the last of the Ringmaster's locution to detect the subject of his questioning. Cerulean irises scrutinized the newspaper on the table as she occupied the chair betwixt her companions.

"Jack the Ripper," Lorelei read out loud to resolve the puzzlement visible in Salazar's features, plucking the paper and skimming through the columns. ""A woman, Annie Chapman, was found mutilated in Hanbury Street…" That's where Whitechapel is, is it not? That's an uncanny coincidence."

"I've only heard of the ssséance last night from town talk," Salazar announced indifferently as he leaned towards Lorelei, peering over her shoulder in spite of his inability to read, his mismatched eyes glancing at the man he addressed with an unreadable glint. "Thisss isss truly a tragedy. Rather terrible. Perhaps it might be wissse not to visit East End in sssuch dark timesss. Isn't that right, Ringmassster?"

"What?! No! We must go—" Lorelei inveighed obstreperously, startling the servant who delivered their orders and spilling the Ringmaster's supposed coffee on the female's lap. "Dammit!" While the servant girl scuttled away, sputtering apologies, to procure a towel, Lorelei attempted to escape the scalding liquid by standing and shaking off the substance from her garb. "We must attend. We ought to see if Annie might be summoned in the séance or if this is all a hoax!"
 
The bustle of the cafe seemed to dim as the trio took their seats and yet James did not let it bother him. It seemed that sometimes the general populace drew back from them, as if the taint of the preternatural clung to them, unseen by others but felt by them. The unexplained chill, or the electricity that ran across the nape of the neck. It afforded James and his little entourage a bit of privacy, though he quirked a brow and watched as Lorelei stood, the scalding beverage running off her pants. Unbidden, the image of her stripping from those fabrics entered the Ringmaster's mind, though the thoughts did not stop there. Like a picture show in his head he saw him bending Lorelei over the very table they ate at, sweeping aside the dishes with his arm as he bent her over, her bottom jiggling as her pants were ripped from her and he took her from behind for the rest of the cafe to see, the crowd watching and yelling, cheering.

He snapped from his reverie as Lorelei's voice insisted that they go to Whitechapel and what could James say, truly? He could forbid her to go, which would raise more questions and stoke her curiosity to a bright flame instead of smoldering embers. "We shall go." he said simply, only a trace of reticence in his tone as the serving girl finally came back with a towel. Taking the cloth from the girl James sent her to replace his coffee while he reached over to dab at the liquid now quickly cooling on Lorelei's pants. It was done without a thought, at first, but soon the realization dawned upon him that he wiped at Alice's lap and groin, a reaization that did not make him pause in his care and instead those images were brought to the fore once again.

James could not explain why he thought as he did, and yet he thought of none other withint the menagerie that way. Only Lorelei, Alice. Only her. Licking his lips he spoke up. "I think that is about all we can do for now. Give them to Flask to be washed when we get back." he told her. Flask was one of Bennie's best friends and always seen with the flask he drank from. Flask insisted it was tea, though if ut were true, was a strange brew. James' eyes settled on Lorelei's with an earnest light and he seemed to consider her a moment before he said, "I will take you myself. Though we must be sure to return in time for the show tonight."

The severe gaze swept to Salazar, to whom James had no animosity, and his voice was soft and quiet, though any meek soul could recognize the predatory undertones, silky and dangerous. "Will you be accompanying us?" he asked. Twas a simple question, and James would not deny the man his travels, nor his company, yet something within the Ringmaster yearned to have Lorelei to himself. It was a growing desire, a rapaciousness and a raw concupiscence that he was finding harder and harder to deny. Sometimes the mere sight of her brought forth a deep aching in his loins and he had to call upon his considerable will not to force himself upon her.

What scared him most was the designs within his mind on ways to keep her when she was not even truly his! Salazar for example - he could shed the blood of the man, rip him limb from limb, for simply daring to accompany them. James had no quarrel with the man and yet the handlers close proximity to Lorelei brought forth a possessive nature from him. He waited patiently for the man's answer.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom