practice makes...err...perfect? [open]

[niall]

“Gah! Son of a shit guzzling Trubbish!” Niall let the flaming hoop fall to the ground and shoved his fingers into his mouth with quick efficiency and a handful of half mumbled curses.

“Again? Really, Niall?” Nara looked, non-plussed, to say the least. Of course, this always happened, so it was more or less old hat these days. The boy just didn't know when to quit. She'd flat out told him that it wasn't going to work, but what would an Arcanine trainer know about fire anyway? Oh yeah, that it burned the people who were dumb enough to play with it! Why couldn't he just stick to the routine like everyone else?

“I di'in mesh up iss time,” he protested.

“Said the boy who burnt himself over a mouth full of fingers.”

“Shu'up. Ish only three, my mouf ishn't fuw.”

“That's not the point. This is what, like the fourth time this week? Just give it up already. It can't be done. Just stick to the routine this time.”

Niall pulled his fingers from his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest.“Can too.”

“Uh...huh...” She didn't sound the least bit convinced. No surprises there, really. That girl had no imagination.

“It can!” He was so not in the business of giving up and, besides, it was the coolest thing he'd thought up in months. His routine was growing stale. Sure, other people didn't think so, but they didn't see it every week, he did, and just...ugh. What was the point of letting a routine get stale? He could do half of that shit in his sleep now. Where was the danger? Where was the challenge? Gone! That's where.

Determined to prove her wrong, Niall crouched down to retrieve the fallen hoop. “I'll get it this time for sure,” he informed her, but Nara was already walking away. What nerve! He was going to risk life and limb to show her something cool, to prove that it was possible, and she wasn't even paying attention to him anymore.

Niall let out a sigh and glanced over at Hestia. The flareon's head was cocked to one side, as though she meant to ask him something. Niall shrugged. “Yeah, I don't get her either. Come on, let's get back to work, we've got until tomorrow to figure this out.”

Half a dozen burns and a bit of singed hair later (about two hours' time in laymens terms), Niall was bent double and panting while Hestia sat by his side looking none the worse for wear. She was a trooper his Hesita, and born for this besides. Niall, however, well he was born for it, but it took a bit more work on account of his being human and not exactly fireproof.

"Alright, girl, let's take a break." It wan't quite right yet, but it was getting closer, and a little break wouldn't hurt., right?

Niall wove through the tents that, to most, appeared to have sprung up out of nowhere overnight, until he found one of the coolers that had been left out for practice. The lid was stuck, but a series of hard thwacks got it loose and soon he was guzzling down a bottle of water like his life depended on it.

[lynne]

[atrb=border,0,btable][atrb=margin,0,btable][atrb=colspan,2][classy=titlelyrics] AND IT'S A BRIGHT SUNNY DAY[/classy][classy=borderbottom][/classy]

[atrb=vAlign,top] [classy=avatarr]WORDS; ### TAG; Niall! NOTES; Circus circus circus~[/classy] by toky ★ of rhi & ote

[atrb=vAlign,top][classy=rppost] Lynne had never been to the circus as a child. Sure, her parents had read her picture books with colorful renditions and she had seen some caricatures of the big top tent and the short but portly announcer on television, but it wasn't the same. Perhaps the closest she had come to the circus was when a pair of street performers camped their trailer down the way from her family's own; forced into early retirement due to injury, they mostly kept to themselves in their new poverty, however. Perhaps it was because she had never experienced the thrill of a circus performance as a child that now, caught up in a war and forced to grow up much quicker than most sixteen-year-olds, she looked upon the sprawl of tents with such child-like wonder. The big show wasn't officially till tomorrow, but Lynne had arrived early that morning just to watch the campsite wake up, blatantly people-watching in wonder of what these performers did in day-to-day routine. She had checked into an old wooden inn run by an even older couple who didn't ask too many questions, and settled herself on their wide porch steps nursing a cup of earl grey to watch the circus site come to life. What she had learned was rather droll - the performers seemed mostly concerned with catching up with each other, eating breakfast, practicing their art... she wouldn't say mundane, but perhaps expected. Despite the normally logical nature of her brain, a small part of her still clung tightly to the belief in a certain magic of an artist performing their art. Eventually, merely watching from afar hadn't been enough. What did she have to lose? The worst they could tell her to do was leave. Dropping her small backpack in her room and bringing only Poncho, she had set off for the campsite. It was the first time in months that Evelyn Matthews could be seen without a laptop. Eyes as big as saucers, Lynne wandered through the circus's campsite, drinking in the sensory overload. Colorful strips of ribbon, balloons, and striped tents bombarded the cool greens and blues of the forest with their warm hues. The air was filled with the sounds of merchants hawking their savory goods, the buzzing conversations between small groups of performers, the charismatic magicians rehearsing their show in booming voices that carried over the chatter. The smell of smoke, sizzling spits of meat, kettle corn and - Lynne's personal favorite - churros left her in aromatic heaven. Poncho seemed to agree particularly with that last sentiment - his nose had been twitching nonstop since they had entered the campgrounds, though he kept close to Lynne's side, wary of the multitude of garishly clad strangers. One particular performer, a man who was spinning plates off of small sticks from every possible part of his body (including his chin!) had Lynne's attention so entranced that she completely stopped paying attention where she was walking. With her eyes still lingering on the plate spinner, Lynne's wandering footsteps shuffled along with abandon. Still turned around, the Nox hacker didn't see the cooler down by her shins. She finally realized her mistake when her shin collided with the cooler, tripping her and sending her colliding quite forcefully into a young man trying to get a drink. "O-oh my god, I completely wasn't looking. Arceus, what a klutz, I'm really sorry. Here let me--" Stunned and embarrassed, Lynne quickly averted her eyes from the performer she had bumped into and busied herself by kneeling down and attempting to scoop the ice and drinks back into the cooler with limited success. Strange that a girl could have last week broken in to a high-security research lab and stolen confidential information, only to not be able to walk through an open campground for ten minutes without causing a ruckus. [/classy]

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[niall]

The water felt like a little piece of heaven as Niall chugged it down. By the way he gripped at the little plastic bottle, one might have thought him a man just come out of the desert, but there were no deserts in the area to speak of. Dehydration was the most likely culprit. It hadn't occurred to him that he ought to stop tossing the flaming hoop around and drink something, or that somewhere during the several hours of screwing around, that his clothing had plastered itself against his body. All that had mattered in the moment was his art, the flames arcing overhead, spinning and spiraling, flickering and roaring. The performance itself had become a dance, his body moving half of it's own accord, the heat little more than a piece of it, the burns that he might suffer an afterthought, only noticed in the moment as something was bungled and a small bit of flesh was licked by a greedy tongue of flame.

Of course, now that he was aware of how friggin wonderful the water tasted, how utterly refreshing it was, one bottle wasn't enough to quench his thirst. The first was drained in short order and he was crouching down to retrieve a second. His fingers fished around in the ice a moment before they closed around another bottle, and then he was falling.

Niall's eyes went wide as he landed hard on his rear and found himself pelted by bits of ice as the cooler toppled with him. What in the...

The ice wasn't so comforting now. Several pieces had made their way down his shirt and, while that wasn't so bad, another brave little adventurer had slipped elsewhere and was now melting perilously close to his...The ice shifted as he stood and Niall let out a yelp and began shaking at his shorts, trying desperately to dislodge the visitor. Shake, shake, hop. He looked ridiculous, hopping around and shaking at his shorts until the offending cube (now about half of it's original size), slipped out of one of the leg holes.

”Arceus's balls that was cold!” Not to mention the fact that it now looked as though he had wet himself, a small, seemingly inconsequential trickle where the ice had slid down his leg during its escape. This was so not his day.

”What the hell were you even...” He was expecting one of the others come to play a prank on him during their down time. Instead, he found a girl hastily shoving ice and water bottles back into the cooler. Mind you, he might have known what to expect a bit sooner if he hadn't been so busy with his little impromptu ice dislodging jig.

”Oh...” He scratched at the back of his head, a nervous sort of gesture. It didn't seem right to watch. ”I uh...here, don't worry about it. Let me.” he crouched down beside her and scooped up a handful of ice. ”So...uh...you one of the new ones, or a resident come to see what we do?”

[lynne]

[atrb=border,0,btable][atrb=margin,0,btable][atrb=colspan,2][classy=titlelyrics] AND IT'S A BRIGHT SUNNY DAY[/classy][classy=borderbottom][/classy]

[atrb=vAlign,top] [classy=avatarr]WORDS; ### TAG; Niall! NOTES; LOL.[/classy] by toky ★ of rhi & ote

[atrb=vAlign,top][classy=rppost]After the poor boy got to his feet - shit, probably should have offered him a hand - Lynne wasn't quite sure what he was doing. She didn't want to stare, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed that he seemed to be doing quite a strange dance. She felt a small smile tug at the corner of her lips, half of her seeing a certain humor in it and wanting to laugh while the other half was still a mess of obscenities and embarrassment. She ducked her head so he wouldn't see, and tried to focus herself on refilling the chest - not on the fact that the young man now appeared to be particularly focused on shaking the hell out of his shorts. When Niall spoke, however, Lynne winced at the (rightfully) pissed timbre to his voice, feeling her cheeks redden with shame. He cut off his words mid-sentence, however, and Lynne looked up to see him looking back at her as though he had just noticed who had accidentally forced him to take an impromptu ice bath. His tone seemed to change immediately as he bent down to help her scoop the ice back. It didn't take long at all with his help, though now the drinks were nestled among not only ice but a several rogue blades of grass and speckles of dirt. Oops. It took Lynne a moment to realize that he was speaking to her as he worked - she was still shocked and embarrassed by her sudden fall, and had been, till then, operating on a sort of autopilot. Catching the last part of his sentence, she realized he must have been asking just who the hell was walking around the camp ground giving the performers trouble. "Oh, uh..." Lynne bit the inside of her cheek, trying to sound a little less flustered than she felt. "Neither, really. Me, a performer? Good one, haha. I'm from out of town... b-but I'm here to see the show which I guess is what you're really asking..." she trailed off, catching herself just before she descended into one of her all-too-common nervous rambles. "I'm, er, Lynne." she continued awkwardly, feeling as though this was when most people would introduce themselves. "Most people" would also probably not meet someone by crashing into them and dumping a chest of ice down their shirt. Details, details. "Sorry again about the ice..." she stuck out her hand, momentarily forgetting that she had just spent the past few minutes shoveling ice with it - meaning it was, quite literally, cold as ice. She looked around, but if people had stopped and stared when she had tumbled, they had already moved on about their business. The plate-man had disappeared into the throng as well. "So are you a performer here?" she asked - not conversational, but genuinely curious. She scrutinized him boldly now, as if trying to guess what kind of circus performer he might be. Unversed in what kind of acts there were in a typical circus, however, all Lynne could think of was a clown or tightrope walker. She was pretty skeptical about the former, but supposed he was tall and lanky enough to fit her archetype of the cloud-walkers who performed impossible acts of balance. If the cooler incident had been any indication, that "balance" and "grace" stuff was a far cry from this girl's skills - no, much better that she stick to the computer and old machine parts for the time being. [/classy]

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[niall]

Bit by bit, the ice was returned to the chest. By the end of the whole ordeal, Niall was starting to lose feeling in his fingers. They just weren't made for this. He preferred the roil of heat against his skin, the brush of smoke and steam, hot but not yet scalding. This whole cold business was a different beast entirely, and Niall found himself unconsciously rubbing his hands together in an attempt to warm them back up.

Damp as they were, they caught and slid, caught and slid, until he muttered something under his breath and wiped them dry on his shirt.

 "Neither, really. Me, a performer? Good one, haha. I'm from out of town... b-but I'm here to see the show which I guess is what you're really asking..." He stared at her a moment, really stared, like she'd just gone and grown a second head, or maybe even a third.

”But...anyone can be a performer.” And he genuinely seemed to believe that. “I mean, there's loads of things that can be considered a proper performance, not just flying through the air and playing who's your daddy with an Arkanine. Seriously, you should see what Narrique does. Weird stuff that, but people pay to see it just the same. I bet you ten bucks you can do something that folks would pay to see.” He didn't know precisely why he was rambling on about talents and the like, but it seemed significant somehow. Everyone had to have some kind of talent, right? And, more importantly, everyone had a right to know that they had a talent. Well, that and he had a tendency to ramble around girls which...might explain a few things. Namely the lack of lady friends in his life that weren't Nara. ”Eh, sorry...you uh...probably already know that, huh?” His fingers were working their way through his hair again, catching on the end of his ponytail and twisting it first one way, then the other.

When she apologized, he jumped on the opportunity to make himself seem a bit more...normal, and quickly wished that he hadn't. Her hand was cold to the touch. No, not just cold, freezing! Funny how ice did that. Niall winced. He really ought to have known better (but that was often the case). And after he'd just gone through the trouble of warming his own hands and...oh! maybe hers needed warming as well. Without giving the matter too much thought, he reached out and seized one of Lynne's hands between his own. ”Gotta warm these up,” he informed her. It even seemed sensible enough, or as close as a kid who made a living playing with fire got to sensible. ”I'm Niall, by the way.”

It didn't quite occur to him that she might mind the impromptu hand-holding slash warming. Well, not until he'd already rubbed his hands over hers a few times, and then it was too late to turn back. At least, that's what he told himself. Instead, he finished up and let it drop. ”You're other hand, if you please,” he said, trying to mimic Nara's 'do what I tell you because I am clearly the sensible one here' voice. Except he wasn't the sensible one, not really, because he knew full well that he shouldn't have been touching a potential customer.

Which, of course, made the next change of subject even more welcome. A performer. Was he a performer? The sudden grin that spread across his face seemed to suggest that yes, in fact, he was.

“Yep. Nara likes to say that I'm the one who comes just shy of burning the whole place down every night.” There was a certain amount of pride in his voice as he spoke, a fool's pride perhaps, or maybe he'd gone and earned it. From his appearance alone, wet shorts, soot smudged cheek, and a build that might be described as all arms and legs, the former seemed far more likely. Never mind the fact that still hadn't let go of her hand.

[lynne]

Lynne wondered whether she had done something wrong when she found the young man staring her down. Maybe he was still mad about the whole ice thing? She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, then seemed honestly surprised by his next statement.

Anyone can be a performer?

It sounded very earnest and heartfelt when he said it, but Lynne only felt skepticism. There were some people who came alive in front of an audience, who gleaned their vitality from hundreds of pairs of eyes locked on them and only them, who enjoyed "putting on a show" and craved the spotlight. Lynne was most certainly not a performer; though from the earnest way Niall spoke, it most certainly seemed like he was. She found herself naturally curious at what this "Narrique" fellow did, but she didn't find the chance to get a word in edgewise before he continued on his slight ramble. Lynne didn't mind much; it was nice to let someone else do the talking, especially when he seemed to have completely gotten over the ice incident. What could she possibly do as a circus act anyways? Lynne briefly had a strange image of the ringleader announcing her name, a spotlight swinging into the center of the darkened ring, revealing her and a laptop on a table covered with bright cloth. And now, Evelyn Matthews shocks the world with her mastery of data systems and encrypted security measures... Sure, it was cool when a pig could do math, but probably not so much young teenagers doing upper-level calculus.

"A talent people would pay to see?" she smirked, pretending to think about it by tilting her head, then shaking it back and fourth almost immediately. "I'm afraid you horribly overestimate me." Despite the self-deprecating nature of her words, she had brightened considerably. Lynne got the feeling that the circus boy was very good at what he did; already, her embarrassment had eased away - a hard feat for someone as self-conscious as herself. Almost as an afterthought, she added: "Except for maybe a clown. I'm already pretty skilled at tripping over things and otherwise making a fool of myself, as you might have noticed." Was that an attempt at a joke? Lynne didn't make jokes.

When she reached out to shake his hand, she hadn't expected him to... hold onto it. Her face morphed into one of obvious surprise, then the embarrassment came rushing back after its short respite, coloring her cheeks a painfully obvious rosemary. Her hands were rather cold, after all... When he finally mentioned his name - "Niall" - Lynne nodded, eager to distract herself and hopefully get rid of her ridiculous blush. Niall. It suited him.

When he asked for her other hand so matter-of-factly, Lynne didn't even think about it much before giving it to him. He had sounded rather authoritative, at least to her - even if was only pretend. A circus performer and hand-warming extraordinaire. Perhaps it was the fact that Lynne herself was so socially awkward that the strangeness of the situation was lost on her. She did at some point realize she had been staring at their hands for an awkwardly long time now, however, and snapped her gaze up in time to catch Niall lighting up like a kid on Christmas at her next question. For a strange moment, Lynne was painfully aware that she was looking at someone who had found where they belonged, five hundred percent. Niall was the definition of someone "in their element." A pang of some sad emotion rang through her, but she pushed the feelings away; it was stupid and selfish to feel sad or jealous from someone else's happiness.

"Burning the whole place down?" Lynne echoed, eyes widening. "You play with fire?" She couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice. Fire was a much more wild element than electricity and circuits and terminal windows that she knew. Sure, every time her mother had lit candles when she was younger she had, with typical childlike curiosity, ran her finger through the very tip of the flame - only to spend the next several minutes with her hand stuck under the sink when her fingers got a little too brave.

"You wouldn't be interested in giving a little demonstration, would you?"

Making requests now, was she? And with a hint of a challenge in the grin that had spread across her face. For someone who feared imposing on others to an extreme, she was certainly feeling mighty brave. But here she was, talking to not only a circus performer but once that played with fire as a way of life, such a different lifestyle than anything she had ever known. She could have just kept her mouth shut and waited for the performance, but couldn't help thinking that no matter how magical a performance was, it was ultimately an act. Speaking to one of the performers face to face... well, that just felt so much more real.

She didn't seem to mind that he was still holding her hand. She had completely forgotten about it, to be honest.

[niall]

Niall has always been to eager to please. Nara used to say that it was because he liked showing off, but that wasn't, strictly speaking, true. He doesn't mind the spotlight, the eyes, the gasps (alright, so he might even enjoy them a bit), but it's the excitement that he likes best. Excitement, leaping from one person to the next and catching like a flame, Niall learned early on, is one of the best things in the world. It could be created with a spark, be it a grand performance or little more than a fleeting smile, and it always burned true.

He could appreciate that. Burning, after all, was what he did. Well, not exactly burning in the literal sense, not on a good day, anyway, but burning in the metaphorical sense: the rush of adrenaline, the blaze of glory, the ashes of what once was – memory - there to serve as a reminder of what could be once more – joy.

There was an art to excitement, to all that burning, and seeing his own reflected in Lynne's eyes made his grin grow even wider, which really was quite the feat. All of a sudden, he wanted to show her everything, the old tricks, the new tricks, the...well...the everything. He could already imagine the wonder in her eyes, her excitement growing as tongues flames danced between them, sharing in the excitement. He was even about to suggest that he show her a thing or two, only she beat him to it. "You wouldn't be interested in giving a little demonstration, would you?"  Would he ever! Only, it probably wasn't the best idea to sound too eager. The combination of fire and eagerness tended to...well, scare most folks.

”M'not supposed to, s'against the rules” he informed her, his tone was suitably apologetic. His face fell almost comically, but it didn't last long. He couldn't really bring himself to deny her now, not when she was looking at him like that.”But m'not very good at following the rules. They're a bit too restrictive for my tastes. Besides, what's a free show between friends, right?” And then he noticed that he still had hold of one of her hands, which he really ought to have let go by now. Oops.

A flush crept up his neck. ”Of course, you're going to have to pretend that you're my assistant, help me out with a few things, alright?” It didn't much sound like he intended to take no for an answer. Well, actually, he would, since the whole assistant business had sprung from a need to distract her from the fact that he was starting to look like a Arceus damned tomato. but it wouldn't be nearly as fun if she refused. ”So, whaddya say, wanna help me set the world on fire?”

(Sorry, it's so short and doesn't address a few things. I've been incredibly pressed for time as of late.))

[lynne]

”M'not supposed to, s'against the rules”

Oh.
For a very short moment, Lynne's face fell and she faltered. She tried to hide it as best she could - which wasn't very well, her face was an open book - but the disappointment was clear. She seemed ready to stammer out some sort of Oh it's okay of course before he suddenly pulled a three-sixty.


”But m'not very good at following the rules. They're a bit too restrictive for my tastes. Besides, what's a free show between friends, right?”


Oh!
The face of a child on Christmas morning was back. She was quick to nod along with him. Perhaps best of all about his sudden change of heart was the fact he had mentioned it was a show between friends - wasn't that a nice word she didn't hear very often? Of course, once upon a time Lynne had run with a group of "friends" who were also not ones for the rules, and that had gotten her into a mess of trouble... but she wasn't thinking of them right now. This was just good fun.

"Right. It can be our secret."

When he suggested that she be his assistant, she gave a nervous laugh, sure he must be kidding. When it became apparent, however, that he was quite serious that he wanted her to "help set the world on fire," her expression was still elated, though more of an adrenaline-fueled nervous anticipation. While Niall's face seemed to be only deepening in its fabulous shade of red, the embarrassment had faded away from Lynne's own face for the most part leaving behind only an excited flush to her cheeks.

"Yeah!"

Perhaps she responded with a little too much enthusiasm to his offer for them to become worldwide arsonists together, but she was much too caught up in the moment to be conscious about it. For a moment, Lynne could forget about her worries - forget about the Mount Moon incident and the weird messages she had been receiving on her computer and the scope of her duties to Nox - and slip into another's shoes, the much more exciting shoes of a fire breather's assistant. Given the opportunity to pretend she was someone else, Lynne was in fact opening up and being more true to herself than usual. She even gave a little mockery of a curtsy, an effect that seemed especially absurd when the girl was wearing only an old zip-up and jeans.

"Assistant Lynne Matthews reporting for duty."