From: La Plata, Argentina
“The only authority I respect is the one that causes butterflies to fly south in fall and north in springtime.”
She called La Plata her home because that was where she had lived the longest, because her name was Spanish, because the first memory she can recall is set there, but if somebody asked Denise where she really is from she would just smile and shrug. She is of the earth, of the sky and the sea, always was and always will be, at least as long as she has a say. And witches usually get a say.
She was born on the road with magic running in her blood. Her parents were both witches, traveling all over Argentina in their small wagon, using their magic to perform in villages, making just enough money to feed the horse and buy milk for Denise before leaving for a new place.
Denise was always as much in love with the life they led as her parents. From early on she was their assistant, the secondary act, the one to walk around with her father’s hat in hand and ask people for money, always looking, always learning, trying to understand the difference between the tricks that excited the audience and the spells that were real.
And she did learn how to tell them apart, and she did learn how to perform both, and her power as a witch grew as fast as Denise herself did. She always enjoyed both kinds of “magic”, but there was one thing calling to her with much stronger a call: the sky, the winds, the challenge to keep her balance while on top of the world. She never thought it strange: after all, what is a witch if not a keeper of balance in the order of things? And isn’t how good a witch you are determined by the ease and success you can keep that balance with? For Denise the tightrope was, among other things, her identity as a witch taken to the extreme, materialized in a stunning act of fearlessness.
This is how she found herself walking on tightropes, higher every time, stronger after every fall, taking great pride in never using her magic as an aid. Her parents, worried about her at first, soon embraced her passion and incorporated it on their performances which were now more successful than ever. And so went the years, show after show, village after village, until there was La Plata again and that one night her parents decided that instead of their show, that night they would watch someone else perform. An old friend, they said.
That was how Denise walked through the gates of the Cirque de la Perte for the first time, as a part of the audience, and her pointing at random circus members and bombarding her parents with “Is that your friend?”s where soon replaced with astonished delight at the wonders the cirque was performing in front of her eyes, offering mostly anything one could ask of a proper circus. But no tightrope walkers.
Instead of leaving, after the performance her parents decided to venture backstage to meet their old friend, and Denise joined them, curiously looking on as the colourful crowd went about their own business, gorgeous in her eyes and magical even at this moment of lull. There he was. She didn’t know what it was about him, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. It wasn’t the power that he clearly possessed or the fact that everything around them existed because of him, it wasn’t even the kindness she could feel emanating from this strange man, her parents’ friend, the Ringmaster. It was none of these things and all of them together and when he greeted her in his soft voice and offered her a place in the circus she could feel her heart soaring in excitement.
Things were pretty simple. Her parents, once a part of the Cirque de la Perte, left when they decided to have a child and thus grew old and had now decided to move on and start a new chapter in their life. They were going to retire, give up performing and living on the road and completely devote themselves to their magic. Their journey was over and they wanted to grow old in peace and embrace death when it decided to come, but Denise was young, born of circus blood and bound to return to the circus. She knew that was the way things were supposed to be.
She said yes, offering her services as a tightrope walker first and foremost. Magic was something she had no control over, no say in, no way to stop from running in her veins. The tightrope however, was her own deciding, was what she had chosen once the Goddess gave her the power to choose, and she would offer her talent to toy with the heights to the circus as a declaration of her desire for freedom and a celebration of her right to choose. The Ringmaster agreed (up to this day she still isn’t sure if he chose her for being a witch or if he intended for her to walk on the tightrope from the beginning) and she became Sosa, the tightrope walker, using her shorter last name to introduce herself to the audience, and leaving Denise as a name only her loved ones cared to remember.
Fast forward ninety years, Sosa still lights her candles and offers her prayers to the Goddess, makes potions and spells to help keep the marijuana plants she’s taken to growing and smoking alive, healthy and potent, and sometimes even offers her help as a witch to her fellow circus members if they ask for it (or a joint. She offers those freely to people she likes too.)
Still, she’s more known as a tightrope walker than a witch, and she takes to the heights with more passion that she’s ever shown for magic. During the years, she’s taken her performance to the extreme, walking the tightrope on her hands, blindfolded, carrying children she picks from the audience on her back and everything in between, but she never once used her magic as an aid.
She’s not planning to stay in the circus forever, only for as long as she can hear the calling of the road in her bones. She knows some day she will decide to quit and follow her mortality towards a new journey that the Cirque can’t take her, but that day isn’t even a dot on the horizon yet and Sosa is not in a hurry.
Gail: One of the few people who can actually annoy Sosa semi-regularly because of their many differences. Still, she has learned the hard way to raise an eyebrow and leave Gail alone when she’s having a bad day and has yet to think that she might be doing something to annoy the Irishwoman. She absolutely trusts her skills with a needle and thread and usually finds her bad moods amusing. She’s convinced that Gail likes her back and loves to go on and on about how they’re the actual bestest of friends with no fear of the explosions this could potentially trigger.
Julian: Her favourite person to brew potions for and one of her favourites to hang out with as the two of them can spend hours talking about the weirdest things no matter if high or sober. She loves the interest Julian shows for her magic and he is always the one she goes to when she is not sure which button to press on a machine (which is more often than one would expect). She also makes an extra effort to focus on movies for his sake.
Aja: The little sister she never thought to ask her parents for, Sosa has a soft spot for Aja and is genuinely trying to be more responsible around her, especially after losing her in the Cirque’s last trip to the New Orleans. She is constantly fascinated by the sweet innocence Aja shows for even the most mundane things and she always tries her best to answer her every question in a “profound” way, usually falling flat on her face.
A free spirit. Lacking the assertiveness and ambition most witches are born with, but sharing every last bit of their tendency towards neutrality, Sosa prefers to go with the flow if she can afford it. Few things annoy her and she’s pretty good at not paying them any attention. She makes it a point to not answer any battle calls, be they from fellow circus members or anyone else but at the same time she never tries to hide her disdain of them either. Fights and negativity is something she considers below her and so is is fear, and her confidence can quickly turn to arrogance when it comes to the tightrope.
That being said, she is a pretty easy person to please and get along with and even though she often has a hard time connecting with others or picking up hints she’s not one to deny her help if directly ascked of her, be it in the form of a spell, a joint or an understanding (or not so understanding) ear. A hedonist through and through, Sosa lives to party and her heart belongs first and foremost to sex, drugs and rock n’ roll, or whatever replacements life throws her way. Saying that her inrerests are fleeting would be an understatement and she can find brief fascination to all kinds of people, things and hobbies.
+Traits: Fearless, independent, spiritual.
-Traits: Reckless, precocious, fickle.
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