chivalry and knives

August Grünewald | 33 | Le Cirque Mystique "O serpent heart hid with a flowering face! Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave?"

[mistersambrook-blog]

“I do still have hair,” he says, shaking his head, “I’m a bit more of an old man than I’d like to admit. Slippers and war novels occupy most of my nights these days,” he licks his lips and notices the glance of the other man.

“Excuse me,” he asks, leaning forward, “Could we get a few more glasses?” he asks as the waiter turns and nods at his request.

[augustgrunewald-blog]

“Are you sure we should be bothering him? It seems as if the entire town decided to come here all at once.”

Still a bit worried, August let out a slight sigh…. though he was more than just a little bit grateful of the other man on the inside.

“It’s because of whatever happened at that dance, was it? I heard it was horrible… I didn’t see it myself, but I can imagine how shaken they must have been…”

[madlenarthur-blog]

“I..” Madlen let her hair fall over her eyes shyly, not wanting to look at him with such sad eyes. “I don’t deserve that. I am strange, destructive and my heart is as black as night.” She let the hair still fall over her face, completely embarrassed by the corny words that were flowing out of her mouth in sync with his.

Eventually, she gave up on avoiding eye contact and fluttered her watery blues over to his. “Hey. Well, at least we’re interesting.” She laughed half-heartedly, the sound getting caught in her throat.

She gave him a sweet smile of her own and noticed the sad gleam in his eyes. Leaning in closer, she pressed her soft lips to his cheek, leaving them there for a few seconds more than necessary. “You’re a very good person, August.” She said, pulling back from the small kiss.

[augustgrunewald-blog]

August’s cheeks warmed with a small blush, yet the sadness was still there. His smiles were no longer genuine, but something that he used to put others at ease. Dealing with other people was straightforward. The more you studied them and learned their habits, the more their future actions became predictable. You could stepside subjects that bothered them, and bring them joy with just a few words.

He couldn’t fit himself into any template because he didn’t want to study himself. The personality that changed at the drop of a hat.

“How quickly your opinions would change, Miss Arthur, when you see how I am with my audience. With all due respect, you really shouldn’t say that when you haven’t seen all there is yet.”

The man turned away and put his shirt back on, along with his jacket and his most convincing grin. He offered her his hand.

“You are very kind, dear. I don’t want to keep you in such low spirits. Let’s go outside. I can show you around this place, which may or may not soon become your second home.”

[mistersambrook-blog]

“Oh, thank you,” Gavin waves a hand, his face flushed slightly with the warm alcohol. He nods a few times before continuing, “Honestly, I’m sure they all think I’m a proper windbag, you know? It’s so easy to get lost.”

[augustgrunewald-blog]

"A 'windbag'? I thought that was a term that students assigned to balding old men who go on and on with neither direction nor reason. And you are hardly that in any way."

August's cup was empty by now, but he was still completely alert. The waiter seemed busy, and even though he really wanted another drink, the man refrained from troubling him.

[t-clement-deactivated20130314]

Everywhere is covered in snow

[t-clement-deactivated20130314]

Yet? Promising, promising. But I’m not impressed unless you body can resemble whatever the hell happens to my earphones when I put them in my pocket.

Can’t hide the slight disappointment, I was thinking of names; August’s Winter was one of the top choices. However, I will be lenient because fire breathers are ever so cool.

[augustgrunewald-blog]

Why thank you, ma'am. I'm called the "Feuer Messer". My boss chose it. "August's Winter" would have been a better choice if I initially went with the snow-burying act though. It's much more pronounceable by most of the English-speaking population.

And you would be called "Geistreich Talaith". I know it doesn't sound pretty, but the meaning's there.

[madlenarthur-blog]

“Oh?” She giggled. Her family weren’t so expectant of her, but she knew they weren’t expecting their only daughter to be a mortician.

She was completely interested in why he chose the circus and why he did some of the most dangerous acts especially. He didn’t have to do it, after all. 

Watching him climb back down the ladder, she thought about his question for a few seconds.

“Taxidermy is just a hobby. I’m in college studying the sciences at the moment.. in hopes of being a mortician.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve always had a fascination in those type of things since I was very young.. and then I grew up to believe it was wrong. Which results in me believing people’s words that I’m some kind of freak.”

[augustgrunewald-blog]

“What's in a name? That with we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet. You are a beautiful, intelligent, self-sufficient, and completely fascinating woman, Madlen. Just because ‘people’ decide that you deserve to be called such a name, doesn’t mean that you are in fact an embodiment of that label.”

August pushed the hair away from his face and looked directly into Madlen’s eyes.

“And if you don’t believe my words, then I guess you’ll be right at home with us. We’re all freaks here. I’m sure Theodore has said this numerous times.” A sweet smile was on his face, but his own eyes had hints of sorrow in them.

[ysoldeellis-blog-blog]

Ysolde furrowed her brow, she wouldn’t have minded helping. But if August did insist, she was certainly curious to see the rest of the circus. She followed August as they walked through the vacant, but busy pathways.

“It must be quite exciting, getting to travel around everywhere. Is there anywhere you’ve never been? Somewhere you’d always like to go? I know I’d sure like to get out of this town right now.”

Ysolde rambled to fill the silence, “Your circus picked quite a delicate time to be paying this town a visit.”

[augustgrunewald-blog]

After kind of just setting the large board down in a corner, August grabbed his jacket and matched Ysolde’s easy pace.

“I apologize. I realize that you might not want or need strangers running about in your town at a time like this, but our trip had been planned for a really long time and I can sincerely say that we had no idea these things would be happening. If we did, we may not have come.”

The man bowed his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. The cold was finally getting to him now that he wasn’t physically exerting himself.

“And to answer your earlier questions: I’ve never been to Canada. Or Australia. Or most of countries outside Europe, actually. A place that I’d like to visit again is Russia.”

He subtly altered their course to one that led to the hot chocolate booths. “And you, Miss Ellis? Where would you like to go if you had the chance?”

[marged-the-pearl]

Marged nodded her head when he said her name. “That’s me.” She replied quietly. 

“Oh! I’m so excited.” She clapped her hands and then stopped, realizing it was childish. she put her hands behind her back and looked at him with a straight face. “Do you know Theodore?” She asked, a small blush coming across her face. 

[augustgrunewald-blog]

"Yes, very well, actually. And he is quite the charmer, though his attitude does make some people uncomfortable. I can see that it's not the case with you," he added with another small smile and wink.

August rummaged through his pockets and produced a white card with plain, black, typewritten letters on it.

"Come to this tent, if you think you can take it. It's a bit scary for some, but I believe you're braver than most."

[augustgrunewald-blog]

a fancy meeting

[ysoldeellis-blog-blog]

“Oh don’t fret, I practically bleed these things,” Ysolde comically mimed cutting a slash in her arm, with the same arm then, she pulled from behind the counter another tall glass filled with milkshake. 

“See?” She displayed the proof like a scientific advancement, “a biological fact, as well as my job.” She smiled and took a sip of her own milkshake, filled instantly with the familiarity of the beverage.

“It’s always interesting to meet someone foreign from what you’ve known for all your life. It’s like an anachronism for place.”

[augustgrunewald-blog]

August chuckled at the little milkshake act. “Like magic, but with food. Which is truthfully a lot more convenient than fire.”

“And when you’ve travelled as much as I have, everything changes so frequently that I rarely notice it anymore. Everything is new, so nothing is new.”

He took another sip of his milkshake, the smile still on his face. “Except chocolate milkshakes.”

The man sighed happily and took a chip from his plate. This was how he wanted to spend most afternoons; enjoying a meal with a new friend. But Theodore often had different plans for him... but he didn’t mind.

Might as well enjoy the moment now.

[marged-the-pearl]

“Marged. Marged Jacobs.” She smiled quietly and snapped one more picture of him. 

She watched as he moved away, it wasn’t what she wanted but that was okay too. She let her camera hand around her neck and she smiled at him. “What is your name?” She asked. “What do you do in the circus?”

[augustgrunewald-blog]

"Marged Jacobs?" The name was familiar to him for some reason, but he couldn't remember what.

Her smile was what brought the memory back. Theodore had described her to be "as sweet as a button". August could now see why.

"I'm August Grünewald, ma'am. And as for what I do... you'll have to wait until my performances to see."

[madlenarthur-blog]

Madlen nodded, a sad look in her eyes that she tried to hide. She had never lost anyone personally and been very affected by it. Her grandma had passed away when she was young but even back then it was just a fleeting pain that was gone in the matter of a week.

She’d knew from then on that her mind didn’t work like everyone else’s. Whether there was something wrong with her or not she wasn’t really worried about it. Feelings just didn’t seem to be a thing that came naturally to her, of any kind. She felt like she was living in a world of numbness all of the time.

And even through all of this hurt and loss running through the town, all she could do was sit and watch, sometimes pretending to mourn like everyone else.

Turning her gaze to him, she saw a glimpse of the scar. Curious but not wanting to pry, she directed her eyes away from him again.

“So, being in the circus. Is it something that has always interested you, August?”

[augustgrunewald-blog]

August chuckled lightly, thinking of what his parents would have said if he ever came home from school and told them he wanted to work in a circus when he grew up.

"For the greater part of my childhood, I was encouraged to become a successful lawyer, actually. I don't think my family would have approved of me juggling knives for a living."

After a poking at the light a bit with what looked like a fondue fork, August decided that the lamp could flicker its little bulb out if it wanted to. He could go for the dramatic effect anyways.

Climbing back down the ladder, the man turned the conversation towards Madlen.

"What about you then, Miss? What got you interested in taxidermy?"

[madlenarthur-blog]

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what to say to that exactly, so used to people not mentioning anything like that to her. All they usually got was some strange remark, not intended to hurt anyone’s feelings but it always ended up doing so. So she just went with the easy option.

She felt unexpected heat rise to her cheeks at his question, something she wasn’t quite used to. “Um, yes.”

[augustgrunewald-blog]

“You don’t have to apologize, ma’am. It’s been a very long time since the incident, and I hardly remember it now.”

A lie. August remembered every single detail of his parents’ murder. The gleaming knife… the pools of blood… the sickening laugh… the haunting screams… He remembered everything, but had long to stop letting it show. At least when he wasn’t performing, that is.

Nodding at Madlen’s consent, the man removed his shirt and folded it into a neat little square, setting it on one of the chairs. A long, thin scar ran down his back, from his right shoulder to his left torso. The puckered white skin seemed to be the only imperfection on his otherwise fit frame, except for the smaller scar that was along his collarbone.

August let out a small sigh and began to climbing up the ladder to fix the flickering tent light.

[ysoldeellis-blog-blog]

The wonder at which Ysolde continued to stare at her surroundings distracted her momentarily from the large wooden circle. It looked like a giant peppermint. The unusual Beaumaris sun beat down with a zealous that day, that made it seem like it was trying to make up for its well weathered absences. 

The large Christmas candy turned out to be nothing of the sort, but rather, the charming gentleman, August, from the other day. Ysolde greeted him with a smile. 

“It’s wonderful here,” she laughed, “Would you like any help carrying the board in?” Ysolde offered, but then she spoke in a lower voice, “I’ve been dying to see what it’s like inside those tents.” August would be the perfect excuse, as well as welcome company. 

[augustgrunewald-blog]

“Oh no, I’ve got it, thank you.”

August grinned, lifting the board up again. The idea of letting Ysolde work was completely absurd; it was like she was a guest at his house, and he was determined to be a good host. This included showing the guest around the place, and he was more than willing to give the girl a quick tour.

“Though we wouldn’t want to leave Miss Ellis dying out here in the sun, now would we? You’re most welcome to come inside if you’re curious to see what we have so far.”

[t-clement-deactivated20130314]

Everywhere is covered in snow

[t-clement-deactivated20130314]

Does this mean you can put your leg behind your head or something equally as ridiculously flexible? Or is your act burrowing under snow?

[augustgrunewald-blog]

Ah, no, I don't think I've mastered such flexibility yet. That's usually our contortionist's forte. It amazes me sometimes how accurate her impression of a pretzel is...

And the snow get's a "no" too. More like the direct opposite of that. I'm the man that plays with fire.

[mistersambrook-blog]

“I teach history,” Gavin begins with a bright smile, “It’s interesting to think about the fact that I’m revealing and expression facts to these children. I always wonder what they take away from it, whether it’ll matter when they’re older, or if it’s so disinteresting that…it’s just gone,” he shrugs a shoulder, “I think…well, I guess everyone wonders about their effect on the world, whether any part of them will remain besides their rotting corpse. I hope that I remain, like that, with the kids, that they remember that I taught them something. But, I guess that’s what everyone wants, to just matter somehow, to someone,” he sighs and smiles faintly, “Sorry, what were we talking about?”

[augustgrunewald-blog]

"Jobs and such. So you teach history... Well, I know that you are effecting your students in some way or another. Whether they think of you as the best professor they've ever had, or as a dull, rambling drone--which I'm sure they don't--they'll still remember you. And one day they're going to need to know something that you covered in one of your classes, and they'll be thankful."

"I think you're absolutely inspiring."

[augustgrunewald-blog]

a fancy meeting

[mathilda-goodwin-blog]

“Thank you, fair sir,” she said and returned the smile faintly. 

Mathilda went in and motioned to the old man behind the counter that was reading a book and hadn’t taken a notice to their arrival. “You’ll have to ask him. He’ll be able to help you if it’s clay or anything else.” 

[augustgrunewald-blog]

"Ah, thank you. You are a delight, ma'am."

August gave her one last parting smile. The people of this quaint little town were so incredibly helpful and nice. He couldn't imagine why anybody here would hurt each other in any way. That's what baffled him about these recent events. Who would target this beautiful town?

[marged-the-pearl]

“Because they’re beautiful…” She smiled and snapped another picture, this time of his hands. “Do you mind?” She asked quietly and slowly hoping she hadn’t invaded his space. 

Marged blushed furiously and hide behind her camera, snapping a picture of something behind him. “Th-Thank you.” She could take pictures of a stranger, but couldn’t take a compliment from one. 

[augustgrunewald-blog]

"No, not at all. Take as many as you'd like, Miss...?" he trailed off, not knowing the name of this lovely lady before him.

Seeing the blush in her cheeks, August took a quick step away from the woman. He hoped he wasn't embarrassing her in any way.

[madlenarthur-blog]

She let out a laugh. “All rebellious now, are we? I won’t tell him.”

“I see.” She nodded, shifting her vision around the whole view of the giant tent.

“I honestly don’t have anything to do.” She sighed. “I don’t want to stay if you don’t really want me to be here, though. I can see you’re busy.” She stayed still, shifting her feet slightly.

“You don’t seem that bad of company to me. Anyways, I don’t even know that much about you. Can I know more?” She leaned forward suggestively, leaning her chin on her hand.

[augustgrunewald-blog]

"If you'd like, Miss. There's really nothing all that interesting to know."

He brought out a ladder and put it against a large, wooden pole.

"My parents both died when I was young. They were murdered, actually, and the police never found out who did it."

It was slightly warmer inside the tent, and August had started to sweat. His t-shirt was sticking to him quite uncomfortably, and all he really wanted was to have it off.

"Umm... ma'am? This may be a kind of embarrassing question, but... are you alright with me removing my shirt?"