first do not post here until you have your stat block complete please

this is the beginning of the RP for the game. please in your first post include a flashback to when you joined this circus . it can't be longer than a month ago as that's when Myron Stendhal broke away from the Celestial Menagerie. it should also give a description of your character and innovation/familiar/animal companion. Let's kick this off

Myron walked around the perimeter of the circus and clapped his hands, rubbing them together to fend off the chill of the early Rova cold. Parting ways with the Celestial Menagerie this time of the year wasn't the wisest. Soon the rainy season would start and he needed to get some experience under the performers belts quick and start earning some money for everyone...or the circus might not make it. The money he and the The Professor invested from their own savings, was running out quick.

He looked at the elder Elephant taking peanuts from the Garundi handler...what a find. Sure to draw some excitement

Tomorrow they'd head out on the last 25 Mile day to the farmhouse where Leyla's grandfather lived...just a few miles from Abberton. The following day they'd arrive with all the fanfare and get ready for their first performance...

He smiled with joy and nodded...looking at the ensemble that had followed him, or joined recently. He  just had to reward their belief in him and what he stood for ..a kinder, gentler Ringmaster...he couldn't let them down

With resolve in his step He headed to his wagon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:30, Thu 02 Feb 2023.

Azvaq sat atop Cogs shoulder working on a small gadget, his tool winding an internal mechanism, twisting twisting...

SPROING!!

"drats...that was my last thingamajig." He turned himself and started accessing the backpack that Cogs carried over his long trench coat, maybe he could find something else that would work in all his parts and pieces.

"Should I put you down boss?" Cogs deep voice, thick with his programmed accent that sounded like some sort of underworld thug, forced Azvaq to call out in a muffled voice from inside the backpack.

"No Cogs, just keep walking, we really need to work on your autonomy matrix, the fact that I have to continuously tell you what to do is really inefficient to our productivity economy" as Azvaq worked his way deeper in the sack one of his small rat paws kicked out and spun the artificial beard on Cogs face sideways, blocking his eyes "Wait...I think...I see...just...gotta get...deeper...Eureka!" Azvaq scrambled back up to a seated position just in time to see Cogs had wandered off course and was about to trip over a fairly large log. "COGS!"

Azvaq leapt from the 10ft tall Cogs shoulder and tried to roll to recover but a rock caught the side of his white furred face and the last thing he saw before his eyes closed was Cogs hit the dirt beside him, his artificially lit periwinkle colored eyes blending with the darkness behind his eyelids.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages, what a special treat we have here for you tonight, all the way from the Starstone Aisles an act which is universally hailed as the funniest act in any circus, anywhere! It is my honor to introduce, Long Whisker and Cogs!" Azvaq looked up at the bright spotlight, how had he gotten here? Where even was here? A bigtop yes, Cogs towered next to him in his normal performance attire, but had they arrived?

"Boss, it's your line" Cogs said with a bit of anxiousness in his voice

"I know it's my line you buffoon" Azvaq whispered under his breath, still reeling. "But this isn't right, we shouldn't be here yet, we just joined the Wayward Wonders a couple weeks ago. We were looking for work after I got the message that my mom..." Azvaq stopped, the memory of his mother's passing being too hard to process in this moment. He had gotten the briefly scrawled letter from Mistress Dusklight telling him he had a few days to come get her stuff or it would be forfeit to the circus. When he arrived he found the conditions abysmal and his mothers things had been rifled through, but it didn't matter, she only had sentimental things in her old age. Old flyers of the Three Deaf Rats, her old clown group with Azvaq's father and uncle, tools for her sewing, and a few odds and ends. The entire Celestial Menagerie was a poor excuse for circus, but during the couple days he was there taking care of his mother's affairs he'd heard talk of Myron Stendhal's spin off circus.

"...we haven't even done our first performance..." Azvaq ran out on the stage and began to look around desperately, the lights were too bright though, the faces of the people were obscured and he held his hand up over his eyes to try and shield from them but it didn't seem to help at all. Cogs followed him onto the stage and began mimicking his movements, even pulling a comically small magnifying glass out of his inside jacket pocket to attempt to help in whatever Azvaq was searching for.

A few moments passed of this searching before the claps stopped and Azvaq heard murmurs arise from the crowd, in talking between the seats, then one of the audience members called out, "He's not wearing any pants!" there was then an uproarious laughter and Azvaq slowly lowered his reddish colored eyes to his own white furred rat body, finding it completely void of clothing. Instantly he felt the blood rush to his cheeks and he wrapped his tail around his lower half out of child like modesty. "I...I...how?"

The Ringmaster could be heard now, "It seems the great Starwatch Captain Long Whisker has forgotten his uniform, or was it stolen by the Mischievous Marcrest?

Azvaq didn't know how to recover from this, "Boss? Boss, what do we do?" he felt the giant cold metal hand of Cogs come down on his shoulder, slightly shaking him, "Boss....Boss...?" the lights began to fade and he felt himself feinting.

"...Boss? Boss...oh there you are. You took a fall" Azvaq felt a throbbing in his temple, and once again was staring into the periwinkle colored eyes of his companion. He sat up, feeling the world spin a bit, but Cogs steadied him. He reached up and touched the throbbing portion of his head and pulled back a dry hand, maybe concussed but not a bleeding wound.

"Help me up Cogs" Cogs lifted Azvaq up with ease and set him on his feet. "Let's go." the memory of his unconscious time on stage, and of course the recalling of his mother's passing, had left Azvaq's mood soured, and as they walked away he didn't even notice that he left behind his gadget laying next to the rock, partially complete, but with a broken Thingamajig.

OOC: I'm a little confused about the break between the Celestial Menagerie and the Circus of Wayward Wonders, but figured I'd give it a shot. I hope you don't mind me putting some words in Myron Stendhal's mouth!

---

Sara Miller was a tall, muscular farm girl with a strength that was bordering on unnatural. She had always been fascinated by the circus and had always dreamed of visiting one. So, when she heard about the Circus of Wayward Wonders, she knew she had to check it out. Except something went wrong, maybe the circus split up? She didn't actually know, but when she came to visit, it wasn't for a show. They were just rebuilding. Still, the camp was fascinating and Sara invited herself in for a tour.

As she stepped into the big top, she was awed by the sights and sounds of the circus. The acrobats were flipping and tumbling through the air, the clowns were making the audience laugh, and the animals were performing incredible tricks. It was practice, working out routines and performances, but it was almost as good as a show.

As she was taking in the sights, she was approached by a man in a top hat and tails.

"Excuse me, miss," he said, "Can I help you? Or perhaps you can help me? I'm Myron Stendhal, the ringmaster of the Circus of Wayward Wonders. But I couldn't help but notice how incredibly robust and powerful you appear to be. Have you ever thought about performing in a circus?"

Sara was taken aback by the offer. She had never considered performing in a circus before, but the idea was intriguing.

"I'm not sure," she said. "What kind of act would I perform?"

"Well, we used to have a strong man act but he didn't want to join us. So I could use someone like you," said Myron. "You could lift wagons? Or some of the clowns? Could you lift a grown man overhead with one hand? Bend iron bars? Perhaps wrestle with a trained bear? Acrobatics? And generally astound the audience with your strength! The possibilities are endless! We could put you in a leopard skin singlet, you have a marvelous figure, it'd be a impressive sight indeed!"

Sara was hesitant at first, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that this could be the opportunity of a lifetime. She's always been strong, tossing around hay bales, wrestling with older brothers, it seemed a natural fit. She agreed to join the Circus of Wayward Wonders as their strong woman act.

Myron was overjoyed. He knew that with Sara's strength, the strong woman act may not be the talk of the circus, but it could be another anchor, a spot filled. Things were coming together nicely indeed!

The gnome hunkered down behind a covered crate, her lungs burning. Running away from thugs was not her favourite activity, not with her little legs. Still, she looked at her bare forearm, and saw with satisfaction that her skin was a swirl of colours.

She had been suffering from the Bleaching, living with her cousins in that broken down hut. They were practically gone in fact, ground down by the monotony of mortal life. She was determined she wouldn't meet the same fate though, so she had started to ply the market for a living, rather than collecting scraps like her family.

She had a knack for it too. Basic thievery, lifting things from stalls or picking pockets, she could do that. But she had greater schemes in mind. She had a quick with and a quicker tongue, so she started with some small scams, mostly farmers from out of town, dyeing chicks and selling them as great layers, magic beans, that sort of thing. She was good at that and she was beginning to fel alive once again. She was earning a crust too.

But she got overambitious, and she hadn't reckoned with all the other shysters and crooks. So she got noticed. When she didn't want to hand over her takings, she found herself waking up with a cracked head in an alley. Undeterred, she tried a different sort of scheme, one involving holy relics.

And that was how she found herself here, hiding behind this covered crate. She looked around, she seemed safe enough and this seemed to be some sort of travelling carnival. Curiosity got the better of her and she peeked under the covering of the crate. Not a crate at all, a cage for a lion! She dropped the cover quick as anything, then felt a hand on her shoulder and turned back in alarm.

That was her first meeting with Myron Stendhal. He could tell she was in a pickle, must have seen it a hundred times before. But he always needed extra hands, whether to help erect tents - not her case - or draw in customers -perhaps more so.

"Lady Cerise" she called herself, from the colour of her face when Myron first met her and her determination to make something of herself. She threw herself into the odd jobs that came up and soon felt like she had a new family. A new home.

Felmor could only laugh.

Growing up he really didn't like the circus.  It just seemed so silly and, if he was being honest, a little scary.  He was always waiting for the tightrope artist to fall, or the lion to eat the tamer, and it just made the whole experience unenjoyable.

Yet here was now, working for it.  The circus was the only real opportunity for him to achieve his goals right now, or at least to make the attempt.

He promised he would work on coming up with an act in case he was needed, but for now he was happy just helping where it was needed, especially in the cleaning department.  His spells certainly made that task easier and he didn't even really need to get dirty himself.

He looked forward to the future with hope and fear.  Hopefully the one could conquer the other.

The circus wagons rolled along the dirt road towards their first performance. It was mid day on their 25 mile ride and 14 miles were behind them 11 more to Leyla's Grandfathers farm. Rumor had it he was a very learned man, one of those who called himself a 'sage'

Myron glanced back from his seat on the 3rdwagon and was glad to see determined and purposeful faces looking back.

Leyla was on the first wagon so she could greet her Grandfather.

Within the line of wagons there was an elephant, some camels, horses a plenty and wagons with bars holding a few other animals.

His mind went through the various acts planning the order and deciding what acts to show...such was the life of the Ringmaster. He was ready...sooner they'd settle in and he'd send some of the entertainers into town to get the excitement brewing and put up the posts announcing their show in two days.

Things were on schedule.

Sometimes, it really seemed out of a story. How life slithered and danced in a chaotic tangle of paths that occasionally acquired a hint of an ironic flavor. For it seemed that whenever Donna Gimbel accepted her faith, a new fork on the road will sent her straight back to the beginning, in an endless loop.

After joining the circus, the young-at-heart woman fetched her old monicker, Bella Donna, that had been recently abandoned after the allegations of her crimes came to the public eye. "Forever tainted, never to see the light of day again" she had wrongly poetized, when she discarded her stage name and decided on taking a less glamorous life. However, as Fate would have it, there was yet another twist waiting around the corner. One named Myron Stendhal.

When offered to take back her old job as an oracle for the traveling circus, Donna didn't even have to think before saying yes. The opportunity to perform her "perfected artform" had been stripped out from her just as she had started mastering it. At that point, any offer would have been agreeable to her.

Azvaq yawned deeply, his pinkish red eyes heavily draped upon by his white furred eyelids. Even at mid day it was still early for him as, ironically, he was a night owl. His tiny fingers worked a needle and thread through a costume piece for, someone or other, he wasn't even sure at this point. Cogs rode stoic and quiet next to him his hands firmly on the reigns of the cart.

It was pretty out here, pretty and quiet. Such a drastic difference from the loud, and filthy environments of a large city, somewhere Azvaq had only read about, or, more relative to his situation, the circuses he'd grown up in and now had rejoined.

"Ouch..." Azvaq pricked his finger with the needle, a thing he'd done so many times before that the pain hardly registered, Cogs however took quick notice but then returned his attention to the road when he took in that there was no external thread.

Sara Miller, the strongwoman, sat at the back of the wagon, her powerful form emanating a sense of quiet determination. Fully clothed with a cloak and loose, drab practical traveling clothes, she just looked like a 'big girl' rather than the muscular marvel her costume would emphasize. Her mind wandered as the circus wagons continued their journey, reminiscing about her life on the farm and the path that led her here.

The anticipation of their upcoming performance coursed through her veins, intertwining with a touch of nervousness. Although she possessed surprising, almost unnatural strength, her time as a performer was still in its infancy. The spotlight was a new territory for her, and the weight of expectations sat upon her broad shoulders.

She glanced towards Myron, the ringmaster, who exuded confidence and leadership. His presence reassured her, reminding her that she was part of a team, a tight-knit community that thrived on each other's talents.

Sara thought about some of her companions as she bounced in the back of the wagon. Felmor, an unassuming man who blended into the background. His guarded nature and aversion to discussing his past had her attention and she couldn't help wondering what lay beneath his almost intentionally unremarkable exterior. A farm girl at heart, she felt a kinship with him because of his adaptability within the circus, his willingness to take on a role that wasn't glamorous, rather than crave the spotlight. As she took her own tentative steps into the spotlight, she felt he might not be far behind her. She looked forward to witnessing his evolution and hoped that he would find his brilliance within the circus ring.

Azvaq and his towering metal golem, Cogs, added a touch of whimsy and ingenuity to the ensemble. Sara admired the ratfolk's ingenuity and determination. His creative spirit breathed life into the circus, and his presence reminded her that there was always room for unconventional talent. This circus was a home to a broken, diverse, unconventional family, but they WERE family!

But mostly her thoughts were on 'Bella' Donna. Sara was captivated by Donna, the mysterious fortune teller of the circus. Donna's enigmatic presence and divination skills fascinated Sara, and she admired the way Donna effortlessly drew people into her world of predictions and mysticism. Sara marveled at Donna's ability to reveal hidden truths and offer glimpses into the future. Donna's magnetic charisma and captivating allure inspired Sara, and drew her attention, and she sought to learn from the oracle to enhance her own performances. Sara valued their connection and hoped to uncover more about Donna's mystical abilities, aiming to harness her own power to captivate and amaze an audience.

As the wagons continued to traverse the road, the gentle breeze caressed Sara's face, carrying scents of wildflowers and the earthy aroma of the countryside. The sounds of nature accompanied them, the symphony of birdsong blending with the steady rhythm of hooves against the dirt road. Despite her initial uncertainty, Sara felt a growing sense of confidence building within her. The knowledge of her strength and the fascination it inspired in others served as a beacon of reassurance. She was determined to embrace her newfound role and leave a lasting impression on her audience. Even if she wasn't exactly sure how.

And one thing in particular was bothering her as they moved closer to her first show. Her costume. She held a small piece of sequined cloth in her hand and moved to sit next to Donna, holding out her costume.

"You've been doing this a lot longer than I have, mind if I ask some advice? I trust your insight and wisdom. I'm grappling with finding the right balance between showcasing my strength and embracing my femininity. This costume Myron had made for me is ... quite revealing. I don't mind showing some skin but I don't want it to come across as tawdry or cheap. How do you strike that balance?"

Donna was lost in her own thoughts when Sara came to her, but as soon as she noticed the girl, a warm smile replaced the mature oracle's focused frown.

"Of course not child, advice is my trade and wisdom my goods. Let Aunt Donna hear what troubles you"

She listened quietly as Sara explained, nodding quietly and looking intensely into her eyes, almost as if seeing through them and reading her thoughts as she made them into words.

"I see, I see... that's quite a unique problem to have, fruit of your marvelous unique nature. If you ask me, the two aspects need not be at odds. Would the rose be as beautiful if it had no thorns? Would the wolf be as majestic if it wasn't a fearsome hunter? There is strength in beauty, and I can attest firsthand that beauty holds strength".

After softly chuckling at the evocated memories, Donna looked at the girl in the eyes once more, now a gleeful glint dancing in her own.

"You are strong and you are woman. But most importantly, you are a strongwoman".

Felmor was relieved when the wagons started rolling.  This was the (literal and figurative) break he was searching for, and there was no turning back.  The fear, anxiety, and doubt still showed, but would hopefully soon turn into hope and even possibly excitement..?  He also felt sadness, which he hadn't expected, but was able to quickly push it into the back of his mind (for now anyways).

He certainly hadn't been ready for the diverse members of the group, but it could only be a good thing.  Maybe he wouldn't be judged as harshly, and could even find a friend or 2, if not more.

As the wagons rolled along, he was throwing around a few ideas in his head about what he could do as a performance if he was called upon.  He knew he would have his work cut out for him between the ratfolk's machine and the strongwoman, as well as all the other acts in the circus. He also knew he had to tread carefully around the fortune teller; he had experiences with them in the past and they seemed to always know more than they let on.

As the wagons would take short breaks on the journey, Felmor would walk out into the woods by himself and every so often you would hear a "thunk", as if something was hitting a tree.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:29, Wed 17 May 2023.

Even though it had been some time since she last sailed, the sea never really leaves a person. So as strange as it seemed to most of the others in the circus, Aida like to tie a few ropes up under the ceiling inside one of the larger wagons into a makeshift hammock, swinging as the large wheels bucked and bounced. It was only a simulation of the real waves, but it still gave her some comfort.

She was daydreaming as she heard a few others talking, thinking back to how she'd gotten there. Truly her heart belonged to the sea. She had spent most of her teen years aboard one pirate ship or another. Originally from the River Kingdoms, she'd found the rivers weren't to her liking, so she ended up in Okeno. After she had a run-in with a particularly nasty first mate, that ended up leaving him permanently scarred without an important piece, she had to flee or end up as cargo under the yellow sails of a slaver. So she fled, knowing she'd be safe in Absalom. She ended up instead in their naval port. Finding something she knew she was good at, she found herself working at a circus, on high wires and trapezes. They weren't even being bucked about by the sea, how hard could it be? It didn't take her long to find out she'd gone from a cruel captain to a cruel boss.

She was hesitant to join when she heard a group of performers were going to break off and start their own venture. But then the cheaply maintained trapeze snapped on her, sending her careening towards the ground from quite high up. If she hadn't been able to slow her fall just enough, she wouldn't have been able to make the decision to quit and go off with them the next day. Well, the next day she could get on her feet enough to hobble, at least.

She'd healed up in the weeks following, helping get all of the ropes and rigging for the high-flying act situated. They weren't quite as nice-looking as the Menagerie had had, but at least they wouldn't kill her.

The brunette woman coughed a little, lost in her reverie, as she zoned back in, listening to the other women talk for a bit.

Sara felt Donna's gaze piercing her soul almost. Those eyes! You could get lost in them, and she was pretty sure more than a few through Donna's past. But she couldn't help but flippantly reply "Yeah, a very cold strongwoman when I'm wearing this!" she laughed, but appreciated Donna's advice.

As the conversation continued, Sara noticed Aida come up to join them. She acknowledged Aida's presence, her eyes drawn to the former pirate turned trapeze artist. She couldn't help but appreciate Aida's unique fashion choices.

"Aida, what do you think? I have to say, your leather outfits are a great choice and suit you perfectly. They give you that alluring sex appeal that keeps a crowd's gaze but with a resilience that enhances your act. Actually, leather might work well for me that same way, capturing the essence of power and allure. I might have to try to get me some."

Sara nodded, liking the idea. She felt a sense of camaraderie among the women, each with their unique journeys and strengths.

The acrobat smiled as the strongwoman complimented her. "Well, they are practical, rope burns can be a real bitch." She lifted her arm, showing a burn scar on the back of her arm, just above the elbow. "But yes, they certainly entice the crowd."

She walked over closer, looking Sara up and down. "It could definitely work, though you may not want to go too form-fitting. I daresay you may burst right out when you flex too hard." She winked, a hand gently touching one of the redhead's biceps, giving it a squeeze before withdraing. "Though that could be a show on its own, too. Though it may get pricey."