From the City of Light to a Circus Trailer, Wednesday Evening
...
There was a juggler, outside the Castle-Palace-Thing-of-Light. He was a quiet sort, really, when juggling. And he juggled especially well when he had an audience, as jugglers are apt to do.
This particular juggler had an audience of one, today, (Two, if you counted the chicken that just showed up one day courtesy of a confused troll-oddment and never did bother to leave) which was an excellent crowd for a solo-juggler to have.
It was difficult being a juggler in a city full of performers without a juggling parter or an accompanist, really.
The tower landed. Surely it had been gone long enough for Helena to finish her business with her not-quite-parents inside, right? If not, Naminé and Valentine might be persuaded to go back into the tower and fly around for another hour or two. The sacrifices they made, really.
Naminé stepped out into the early evening air, a bit rumpled but in a very contented mood, and stopped to watch a juggler on the stairs. He was quite skilled, really, and she considered herself an expert in judging these matters, by now.
Her fingers were itching for her sketchbook. For now, she would just watch.
Valentine stepped out of the tower shortly afterward, wondering what it was that Naminé was paying such close attent-
"BING!"
The juggler on the stairs dropped the ball. Quite literally. It hit the step with a 'piff' and a small explosion of sparks. He looked up, and his mouth opened in a broad smile.
"VALENTINE!"
Valentine held open his arms in a very grand sort of gesture, and how he managed to get a trio of orange juggling balls in his hand so very quickly is anyone's best guess.
"Our routine?"
Bing held his arms open in much the same gesture, the missing ball replaced by another.
"We haven't rehearsed in ages!"
Apparently, this wasn't about to stop the pair of jugglers from leaping directly into their act.
Naminé looked between the two, and couldn't help laughing.
"Bing?" she asked, nodding to the other juggler. "I believe I've heard a lot about you."
"He's very quiet when he's performing," Helena said from her seat on the stairs, smiling broadly, herself. "Rather like a person I know from back home. I almost confused the two of them, when I had met them before. And their fiddler, as well."
She turned to look at the pair of jugglers yet again.
"They were rehearsing this act when I first stumbled across them."
"Silence, please! We must have perfect silence while we perform!"
Valentine, of course. Bing was busy being silent. Perfectly.
"And we catch the balls, and we turn, and we say, 'Can we have a brave volunteer?" Valentine grinned as he pointed at Naminé. "You! You can be our brave volunteer!"
"Me?" Naminé squeaked. "No, no, no. I'd make a horrible brave volunteer. Helena should, she'd be marvelous at it. I ..."
Naminé and the performing arts were not on very good terms.
Helena laughed a little and gave a shake of her head.
"I can juggle, you know. It's hardly as brave when it's something you do every night under a circus tent. You might have fun," she urged.
"Do you have any idea what happened the last time he dragged me into one of his misbegotten artistic notions?" Naminé said, staring at Helena. "I'm not very brave. He specified the volunteer be brave. I'm not qualified."
Valentine frowned and turned to Bing.
"It looks as though our brave volunteer is afraid," he informed his juggling partner. "Perhaps we'll have to cut this show short, after all."
Bing looked saaad. Did Naminé see how sad Bing looked?
It was a thoroughly unpleasant and grumpy Naminé who set her sketchpad down and walked over to the two jugglers. Slowly. And watching them both for sudden moves.
"I loathe you," she announced. (To Valentine. She had no reason to loathe Bing, other than the fact that he was, at the moment, a friend of Valentine's.) "Do not make me regret this."
"There won't be any reason to regret this at all," Valentine replied with a grin. "We're professionals, after all."
Bing nodded his agreement. Silently. As you do.
"I'll need you to stand facing one of us," Valentine instructed her, wearing that cocksure grin of his the entire time. Juggling with his old partner with an audience and a brave volunteer?
He could drop dead, right there, and he'd die happy.
"And don't move."
Naminé narrowed her eyes.
"Please?"
Naminé covered her eyes and muttered something that involved the words "fandom chicken."
And then she stood between the two of them. Facing Bing. Because she had no real issue with Bing at the moment, and her giving Valentine a death glare might break his concentration.
Valentine didn't mind at all. He had a rather decent view of the brave volunteer from back there.
He smiled, broadly, before juggling the trio of balls in his hands- and sending one zipping at Bing, a breath away from Naminé's cheek.
Bing returned a ball in much the same manner, with every bit the confidence that Valentine was exuding at the moment.
Naminé closed her eyes, and held her breath.
She trusted Valentine. With her life, if necessary.
It was those stupid balls they were zinging around that she didn't trust, that was all.
And so went another ball. And another, and another, a few zinging past her face, a few bouncing against the ground directly beside her, a relay of perfect misses between two very important men who breathed this sort of show.
And then, it was over, and Valentine was still grinning.
"And might we have a round of applause for our lovely volunteer?"
He made a point to make it sound extra 'luuuvely,' just for Naminé.
Which helped. Some. He wasn't entirely forgiven just yet.
She curtsied prettily and nodded to Bing. And smiled, and walked over to Valentine.
"You should be very glad we saw the tower before you made me participate in your art," she murmured, softly enough that hopefully only he could hear it.
Helena said she had found the information she needed, which was very good, and didn't ask too many questions about how Naminé and Valentine had enjoyed the tower, which was (in their opinion) even better. So where to next?
There was talk of heading to the cathedral, to see the monkeybirds - who Valentine insisted he'd seen plenty of, thank you very much - or out to the Dreamlands, which Helena thought should be far enough away from the Darklands to be safe - but Naminé had cleared her throat and politely noted that it was nearly nightfall.
And time waits for no one, not even a Very Important Artist whose parents would wonder why she wasn't in her trailer just before showtime.
Thus, Valentine, Helena and Naminé bid a fond farewell to Bing, and to Valentine's very impressive tower, and portaled back to Helena's trailer safe and sound.
It even looked the same.
Once the trio of intrepid travelers was once again safely inside Helena's caravan, Helena took a moment trying not to laugh at Valentine (who had almost immediately begun to study the walls, commenting now and again about how this was wrong and that was off, and there was no way his nose could possibly be so large), before she gathered her wits and cleared her throat and grinned.
"I'd like to thank you. Both of you. For the opportunity to see my city again," she said. "I think... now I know what needs to go where. And you shan't have to worry about Valentine vanishing into nothing anymore."
"I appreciate that," Naminé said softly. She held out her hand. "Thank you. And ... it was very nice to meet you, finally. And talk with you."
About certain other people in the room, that Helena could eyeroll at just as well as she, for one. She smiled, eyes dancing, and had a feeling the other girl took her meaning.
"Yes, yes, a real pleasure," Valentine agreed, though he mostly wasn't paying attention. The images of himself on the wall were far more interesting. "You know, there's no way my eyes are possibly that tiny. I'll have you know, I have very distinguished eyes. You ought to draw them larger. That would bring out the true character in them."
Or, at the very least, give him depth perception and peripheral vision.
Helena smiled tolerantly, taking the hand that Naminé had offered her. Valentine would be Valentine, after all.
"Of course the both of you will be staying for the show tonight, right?"
While they were so busy sharing glimpses at worlds, whyever not?
"I can get you a pair of complimentary tickets, it's easy enough to do when your dad runs the circus. You'd like it, I think. Everyone wears a mask."
"The circus?" Naminé beamed. "I've never been to see the circus. Valentine? You don't have any need to be back soon, do you?"
Valentine tapped his chin thoughtfully. Or, rather, the chin of one of the Valentines on the wall.
"Far too pointy," he muttered to himself before looking up at the girls. "Back soon? I don't imagine so. Classes ought to be over for the day, I'm not in any clubs, no great inspiration for another film has come over me..."
He grinned.
"Let's stay and watch the circus," he agreed.
"I'm so very glad your busy schedule could allow it," Naminé laughed, slipping her arm through his. She smiled at Helena. "We'd be delighted, thank you."
They could head back afterwards. Or perhaps ... in the morning, since it would be late. Find somewhere nice to stay, a little hotel in whatever town this was. A nice evening out. They hadn't had one in ages.
Perhaps she could be induced to forgive him for the juggling incident.
Valentine was well aware that he had a great deal to make up for.
Somehow, he was certain, he'd find a way. It was the solemn duty of a very important man. Especially one with a tower.
(OOC: NFI, NFB, OOC = Awesome, preplayed with and coded by the Very Important palestshadow, and we are done like dinner. No more spamming the flists with our crazy, for now. :D)