dum spiro spero

Ian. 28. Escape artist.

[escapeacts]

thememphisraines:

“I think Germany is the perfect place to try out this new outfit.”

“It’ll be a runaway hit.”

[escapeacts]

alisavilkuna:

“Check it out while everybody else is getting drunk,I was getting tatted. I got it in memory of my pet snake I had. What do you think?”

“That’s a lovely one. Where’d you get it done?”

[escapeacts]

lollymca:

“You know what I love, about Oktoberfest?” Lolly began, her question without the intention of gaining an answer from the other. “The rides. Come with me?”

“There are rides?”

[escapeacts]

andreas-mayer:

“What? This is my bottle,it’s my of celebrating being back home in a while,well back in my home country. Would you like some?”

“What is it?” Not that it entirely mattered much, if it was alcoholic Ian would drink it.

[escapeacts]

girl-whocouldfly:

Jordan chuckled. “Thank you for the advice; I’ll try to keep it in mind. It also helps a little if I write down new words or words I can’t remember, like passion. Iit can’t be worse than learning English in school; at least here, no one is going to give me a test every other week.”

“I’ve never been good at learning anything in a school setting to be honest with you, for all I know learning firsthand is a wonderful too. And reading too, books. You’d be amazed at what you pick up. That’s what I’d do if I were you, read books, watch movies, talk to people — before you know it, I’ll be the one asking you for help with words,” he chuckled.

[escapeacts]

daphnepalmer:

“That’s the spirit. I knew you’re smart enough to get it. Of course you did. If you only have seen the tweets about you.. Some people are …. let’s say thirsty.” Daphne sighed. The brunette could tell he was being sarcastic, not because she was good at picking irony, it’s because she knew Ian. “I think it’s a little bit of both. Some girls find the talent sexy.”

Ian chuckled now. “I’ve witnessed that firsthand. I dunno why being good at my show might lead people to assume I’m some kind of a, er, Casanova, but they seem plenty disappointed when they figure out I’m not.” He decided to flip the question over to her. “And what about yourself? Do people tweet about you and your amazing PR skills?”

[escapeacts]

elise-fay:

“Well, monsieur, I did not peg you to be someone who was easily fooled,” Elise responded with a hint of playfulness as she took yet another sip of her drink. So much for wanting to go slowly on her drinks. She put the glass down, slightly under the half and began tapping her fingers on the cold class, making a soft melody that not even she could hear above the noise of people chatting in the bar. When Ian looked around, so did she. He knew exactly what he meant with the question, because she was wondering just the same in that moment. Elise shrugged. “Maybe that we’re leading some sort of conspiracy. I mean, the escape master and the gun girl. Quite a combination here.”

“A dangerous combination, to be sure,” he said as he smiled down at his drink. Ian thought of making a half-arsed Bonnie and Clyde joke, but given his past, and the things he’d done, it hit a little close to home. He stared down the contents of his drink, halfway drunk, not quite wanting to take another drink yet, possibly even for the fact that they would finish sooner that way and have to leave. “You ever imagine you’d end up here, of all places? In a travelling circus?”

[escapeacts]

elise-fay:

“Count me in,” Elise said, her smile widening until she was showing the white of her teeth. Of course in that moment she didn’t consider how much she didn’t like the feeling of being trapped, but she figured that after all if she was learning to free herself from that, she would be okay. That or the beverages were starting to cloud her judgment. “I’m not great at those yet– but I’m sure I can show you some basic things,” she said, making it sound almost like a tease. 

His drink was gone to the halfway mark now, but Ian had no qualms about it. Though, he was surely feeling the effects of it all; her vodka, the whiskey, and now this. “It looked good enough to fool me,” he said with a smile, holding her gaze maybe a little longer than he felt comfortable with. But not in the bad way. Ian looked around them, at all the others packing the bar. “Do you think they wonder what we’re doing here?” He mused aloud. After all, he rarely put in an appearance in this place, and from the brief conversations he’d had with her, knew she avoided the crowds as well.

[escapeacts]

cillianxxtheking:

Cillian loses his balance from the blow and falls to the ground. He holds his cheek slightly taking it hard but does not return the anger. “Jaysus, w’at was t’at for?” He says, genuinely not understanding that the things he says insults or even demeans others. Still thinking what he said was funny. 

“For bringing my mother into it,” Ian said, heart pounding, blood rushing to his head, the adrenaline. If he was the Ian of old, he might have added a cunt to the sentiment, but he refrained himself from saying those things anymore. “Say that again and I’ll make sure to hit you where a tooth falls loose.”

[escapeacts]

elise-fay:

“Sounds interesting. I’ve never found myself in chains and shackles, so I guess we’ll have to see,” Elise said, a smile painted across her lips with what seemed to be a hint of a flirty glint in her eye. “I could pay you back and teach you some gun games.”

“Well I’d get you in them, and then show you a way out of them,” he said, suddenly mirroring her smile. Oh god— that sounded awfully like it had a double meaning, didn’t it? It hadn’t even been intentional. “Sounds like a great offer— but I might have to decline.” Ian had had a lifetime of handling guns and he wanted to put that life behind him for good; even if this was just for innocent games. “But you could show me some more of your bow and arrow tricks?”

[escapeacts]

elise-fay:

Elise raised her eyebrows and took another sip from her drink– she was consciously trying to go slow on this one before she ended up drunk before she got back to her caravan. “That sounds a little bit too dramatique but why not? I’m starting to get bored of the bow and arrow thing.”

“I was mostly joking.” Wasn’t everything they seemed to say tonight a little tongue in cheek and not serious  in the slightest? It felt that way, at least to Ian. “I could teach you somethin’ else though. If you have no problem finding yourself in chains and shackles.” That sort of thing could put some people on edge.

[escapeacts]

wxlkwiththestxrs:

“I… suppose that sounds fine. I don’t know if there is a specific viewing party around, but there’s got to be somewhere high up that just isn’t participating.” Devlyn agreed, shrugging. “As long as I’m completely safe, especially with some of the people in the cirque. I’m surprised I haven’t been hit already.”

“Yeah, got to be one,” Ian agreed, would make sense that there would just be a group who only wanted to watch the thing. “I’m a little surprised too, they love their practical jokes. Suppose we’ll just have to watch our backs an’ all.” Not that Ian would mind or care being pelted with a tomato, but he certainly wasn’t likely to reciprocate.

[escapeacts]

elise-fay:

“I’m a French lady. I was taught manners before I even learned how to read. Lying is more second nature than cursing is to me,” Elise responded. She also would never admit it, but she liked the mystery that came with being quiet and not saying the truth. It was something she had adopted months ago, upon joining the circus, gave her something else to entertain her mind than her own paranoia. “Makes sense,” Elise agreed with a small nod, after all her act was also about skills more than tricks. “Maybe,” Elise said, turning her head and looking at Ian from the corner of her eyes. “Sounds like… a useful skill to have. Survival needs.”

Ian had several opinions apiece to say on that, but instead he chose to smile, nodding his head like her answer had amused him to an extent. He would win no favours or friends if he cherrypicked everything people said, and he knew that most of the Cirque folk didn’t look too kindly upon the word of the Lord. “I suppose.” He meditated a bit on his glass, took a drink. He’d gotten those skills long before he’d come to the circus; a lifetime of dodging death and avoiding tight situations would do that. “I could teach ‘ya how to get out of a coffin if you’re ever buried alive. Helpful skill. Never know when you might need it.”

[escapeacts]

elise-fay:

The drink didn’t burn her throat as she swallowed like the last one, but it was strong enough for her to feel the taste of liquor, which was some sort of perhaps placebo for her to feel more calm. Elise placed her glass down with a smile. “Well look at that! It wasn’t half hard! I didn’t even get to lie,” she chuckled. “I have one for you,” Elise bit her lip. “Would you ever consider showing someone how you do one of your tricks?”

Ian smiled as he said his next words, looking like he meant every bit. “You don’t have to lie. Just tell me to sod off if you don’t feel like answering and I will.” He felt an odd and particular way about lying of late, always attempted to give people the truth and expected the same back. He’d had more sins in his life than virtues, but honesty, he figured, was a good place to start. “Hmm.” Not expecting that question, he took a moment to think on it. “Not all of what I do is tricks, for starters. Some of it’s enduring tough situations, small spaces. Some of it is how fast I can shimmy out of a straightjacket suspended by a rope that’s burning — no trick to that.” It wasn’t a very fun answer, but it was a straightforward one. “Why, you saying you want to learn?”

[escapeacts]

elise-fay:

Her laughter had been so short it didn’t take long for it to die down, besides it had all been in the name of embarrassment and when Ian started laughing at her sad excuse of a joke, that had also almost entirely vanished. “I’ll wait–” the hand in the small of her back made her freeze out of nowhere, voice and breath cutting short for just a moment as she grounded herself in reality. She had gone all this time, almost nine months, without any physical contact– nothing more than shaking hands here and there when she absolutely had to and the contact, despite it being nothing but accidental, delicate and almost there, had brought back memories of him, how controlling that same touch was once upon a time with him. Elise blinked a couple times at the same time she took a deep breath, then turned at Ian with a soft smile. She had become better at handling these scenarios, so she hoped Ian hadn’t noticed much of that, despite the fact that her hand further away from him was still gripping firmly at the fabric of her pants. Another couple of deep breaths later, and a quick look around the bar, Ian was back holding two drinks in hand. Elise smiled again, an honest smile once again, contrary to the one she gave him before he left. “I think it would do me good to start pacing myself. I’ll take it.”

"That was what I figured,” he said, taking his seat again and letting their drinks rest on the bar. A short silence wherein he drank from his glass ensued, but filled up by the din of the rest of the Lucky Nugget’s hubbub and activity. It was odd, but he didn’t feel pressured to talk, to say anything to keep the conversation going. Just let it ebb and flow however it pleased. “M’afraid I don’t got anymore big prying questions for you. So you’re off the hook.” 

[minuty]

Hope was my greatest sin.

Clarice Lispector, from “A Mischievous Little Girl (via minuty)

[escapeacts]

elise-fay:

“I don’t think I’d go back to school. I don’t think I ever wanted to go to school… actually,” Elise said as a matter of confession, though it was something more of a confession to herself. “I wanted to please my father– you know, the typical thing,” she added, her accent  broke into a soft laugh as she shook her head and her hand before her to take importance away from the topic. At the story of Ian’s friend, Elise arched an eyebrow and tilted her head. She wasn’t sure if Ian was being serious but the topic certainly sounded that way. She didn’t have that much experience with snow after all. When he confessed it was a joke, Elise actually let out a laugh. “Okay, so that means I will skate on thin ice. So maybe… maybe one day you’ll have a true story.” Elise realised what she had just said and laughed louder. She had never been a good one with humour and she had just confirmed it with her sad excuse of a joke. “I think… I think I need a refill.”

He found himself acting in a way he wouldn’t usually act, saying and doing things he wouldn’t usually do. Even looking at this portrait from the outside, two people talking, laughing and drinking, mingling with the best of them at the bar, it wasn’t what he did. Sure, the reason they were both all smiles and laughing over a topic as morbid as death might not have been a common denominator, but that was irrelevant. “I’ll...go get those refills,” he agreed, laughter subsiding. The bartender was busy serving a large group, and Ian took the duty upon himself. Sliding off of his bar stool, he miscalculated their distance a little, and ended up brushing up against Elise’s chair. “Sorry,” he fumbled quietly, his hand reaching to the small of her back to steady, but removing it just as soon. Admittedly a clumsy moment, but he disappeared into the crowd soon enough. Ian returned not long after with two drinks, this time whiskey and cokes rather than straight whiskeys. “If you want whiskey neat instead, you can send me back, no hard feelings.”