The Shadow Carnevale (RP)

As her gaze sweeps the crowd, Lille takes in Roald’s drawn face and tired bearing. "Wait," she says to Albeart, and slips carefully off his back when he’s still. "You should ride with Daryl," she says to Roald, "so I can use my staff." She motions him up, offering a hand and her steadied staff to assist him on board. After thinking for a moment, she adds, "With only one hand to hold the fur on back of his neck, I found it helped to press in my knees. Easier to steady Daryl too." With an encouraging nod to Roald, she gives Albeart a pat and holds her staff ready to fend off anyone who might attempt violence on the adventurers.

''oh, no,... I can't... I mean, of course I can but... Aren't you feeling exhausted too? As long as I'm standing still it's ok. But walking and especially running takes so. Much. Effort.''
Despite his objections Lille nudges him towards Albeart and Roald has no choice but to steady Daryl to keep him from falling off.
He does as she says and presses in his knees.
Daryl is still sleeping, or not moving in any case.
'' Daryl, if you can hear me: now would be a good time to wake up. We're about to be attacked and could really use your strength. C'mon buddy, open your eyes''

Albeart skids to a halt when Lille tells him to wait for Roald. He looks at him as Roald catches up. An exhaust expression decorates his friends face. "Looks like you could use a ride, buddy. Hop on."

After switch rider, Albeart once again turns his attention to the gathered crowd and sets off towards them, nodding in agreement to Ezme up above.
"Last chance!" He roars to the crowd.

When Albeart roars again, something awakens within Ezme, and it suddenly seems plain as day what must be done. As she steps forward, bursting into song, an invisible band of instruments supports her musical number.

"Get out of my head!
Get out of my mind!
Get out of my way so I can live this life ooof mine!"

After the incident with Aarov, this popular ear worm from back home had wiggled its way into her head and played on repeat for months (which had seemed both ironic and fitting at the time, given the chorus' lyrics).

Ezme is not usually that great of a singer, nor that expressive of a person, but right now -- for Ezme at least! -- this dream performance is all it was meant to be ... Poignant. Powerful. Maybe even a little cathartic.

All the same, the crowd stands, squinting stupidly at her. It's now that a series of realizations strike our foreign trapper. First, she'd been singing in her native tongue, so no one had understood her. Second, the big sequined heart on her leotard had ripped in twain again (sigh). And lastly (and most disturbingly)... as she looks down to observe her own wardrobe malfunction, she realizes that she can also see through her own fracking body.

Upon this final realization, the instruments falter, along with the conviction of her step. Whispering a curse into the heavy silence that follows, Ezme lifts her wispy palm and turns it this way and that before her eyes, then looks to her companions, her expression alarmed. "What is happening??"

"Shut up, girl!" ... And just like that, what remained of Ezme's sense of control and empowerment vaporizes. The words of her father Brahm and the furious expression on his face transport the trapper back to that last night -- the night she and Richie had attempted to steal away with her two younger sisters.

"I am not--!" she starts to retort... Not what? Not a girl??

"You are not of House Felder. Not any longer," her father finishes. With these words, the fire in the poi hanging limply by her sides instantly extinguishes. Brahm sneers, shaking his head and turning his back on her, abandoning her to her fate as the crowd pushes forward.

Gazing numbly after her father, Ezme tries to stumble in the wake of the bear, but the crowd presses in between them and she finds herself cut off. She looks around herself, for the first time really registering the lecherous expressions of the men around her.

Hugging her arms to her chest, she shakes her head and tries to back away, baring her teeth and growling a desperate warning like a cornered animal.

At first Roald doesn't notice that Daryl is waking up. He didn't really expect his shaking and begging to work so he continues while Daryl is trying to speak. When his voice gets stronger and reaches Roald's ear, Roald is completely extatic.
''Daryl! You're awake! Oh I'm so glad ''
He forgets the problems around him for a few minutes and gives his friend a warm hug.
Then he starts rambling on about everything that has happened since his arrival at the circus. He tells Daryl about Albeart, about Ezme levitating, the fortune teller and...
For Daryl this is clearly too much information all at once. roald's story doesn't make sense either, the timeline is so chaotic it's impossible to follow.
He tries to stop Roald a few times but Roald just keeps on babbling.
''... and then there was this boy wielding some sort of fire pot, and Ezme kneeled beside him, and I could see the fire through her body. I mean look at her...''
Roald turns his head and searches for Ezme who was right beside him just a minute or so ago. He spots her surrounded by a creepy mob of carny people, she doesn't look too well.
oh no
If he directs Albeart in Ezme's direction to save her, Lille will be left alone, and Roald himself is not quite feeling up to the task. But he scrapes together what little strength he has left.
'' We've got to help her Daryl, follow me ''

They both slide off of Albeart's back and walk towards the crowd trying to push people aside while making their way to their friend.

"Albert, wait!" Lille tries to spin and find where Ezme has got to but every movement feels so slow, like being under water. As Roald and Daryl head back for the wayward trapper, Lille swings her staff, hoping to keep the path between them clear. "Ezme, you must fight this!" she calls over the jeers of the men. "They are not real!" She seems to be speaking to both the flash of sequins in the crowd, as well as to herself.

Lille's words fail to register in Albeart's mind. He's dead set on getting to the source of these cords. To his amazement, the crowd just lets him pass without much effort. "Look at that, Roald! Piece of cake. Roald?" He had been so focused on getting through the crowd that he forgot to pay attention to what's going on around him. And there was a lot going on right now. Looking back, he's unsure where everyone is. The crowd he just passed has closed ranks again, blocking him from his friends.

"Lille!" He roars, hoping that she'll be able to hear him. "I'm going for the cord's source!" If he can reach the source and deal with it, then the others will be safe. With nobody standing in his way, he looks up ahead with a blurry glance, just as Lille had instructed them with the bees. "There." He says to himself as he starts to follow it again.

As Ezme continues to back away from the encroaching crowd, she becomes half aware that she is passing through the entrance of another red-and-white striped tent. Before the crowd can pursue her inside, a large form steps in their way, bellowing, "You can't have her!"

Had help arrived??

But then the form continues in a growl: "Not until I'm done with her.. This is personal." Seeing that the crowd has discontinued their advance, the figure turns to face her.

Ezme's eyes widen with loathing and disgust. It's Humphrey. Except he's huge. And his eye -- the one Roald had punched -- it is swollen almost completely shut and oozing yellow pus down his face. "Hello, Gorgeous," he grins menacingly.

Albeart notices the extra cord. Someone else is trapped in here. He thinks. Would it be someone I know? Or an unfortunate bystander? He feels like he should find out, but his friends need him right now. He shakes the thought and pushes his head into the tent, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness before his body follows.

Rows of seats surround a central ring that appears to be filled with sawdust. This must be one of the performing or training tents. On one side, the bleachers open up to allow for a backstage entrance. A few barrels, crates and cages block his vision from that section of the tent. Albeart tries to locate the cords again to follow them.