Day 2- three days to opening

[Relent<]

(Beiseker, no wandering! XD Incite an event, and don't be totally reactionary or else you won't ever have anything to do. There's nothing else going on, you might as well stick with Shauna and watch the audition)

"Well its too late to squirm out of it now. I'm in the mood for crepes. Just do the best you can, he's no Parisian either." He said with a flutter of his fingers across her stomach, walking backwards a short distance until they came to a stand with a warm flame and a decidedly pungent aroma.
"Oh Robespierre! What a fine afternoon to bump into you."
"What do you want, Marcy..?" the vendor replied with an agitated sigh. Marcy nudged Isis to prompt his companion to wax a little native tongue to him.
"Oh, I was just showing my new friend around the grounds. I was just asking her which french-speaking colony she grew up in..."
"A colonist, eh? My father spent some time in North Africa. **Où êtes-vous à partir de?"
Unseen to the vendor, beneath the counter, Marcy was squeezing Isis above her left hip, attempting to loose her tongue.


**"Where are you from?"
(as for language stuff, you can use google translator like i did, or just put an ** around the things you want her to say in french, and make a note of it. Unless you decide to play the route of the dialectical barriers, which is also fine. Whatever you feel comfortable with)

 

[Beiseker1]

(Aye sir)

Nothing was going on, just like there were a shroud of sleepiness covering the place. 'Unacceptable.' Piotr thought. 'It's the circus after all!' With this in mind he jumped to his tent. From all the things he brought with him he took deck of cards and a small table. He looked ridiculous carrying that table around, but that was a point. In poker you always prefer to be undervalued. And Piotr really liked to win, especially when the stakes were high. He just needed an opponent to know how high they will get.*

"Would somebody care to play some strip poker around here?" He asked whenever he noticed a girl around while wondering through a camp site. "Or there is no one who dares to face a challenge?" He was obviously in a playful mood, and it looked like he wanted to infect the whole place with such a spirit.

 

[Carnivore]

(Don't worry about delays, Relent. I think the holiday weekend happens to all of us. As for the French, I think I'll go with the **stuff** but forgo Google translate. I feel like I'd be a child playing at the foreign language, and it'd be easier to understand for everyone.)

Isis felt like Marcy was deliberately keeping her in a whirlwind. Constantly telling her something new, or bringing her somewhere, and throwing in a well placed tickle to keep her off balance. As she felt fingertips dance over her belly, she let out a surprised giggle and continued to blindly follow him, at a loss to figure out how to regain the upper hand. Part of her wondered if that's what she even wanted. There was a liberating fun to just going along for the ride, letting Marcy play her like a fiddle.

Suddenly she was in front of the seller, French filling her ear for the first time in quite a while. She was about to respond to the man when Marcy continued his teasing, this time squeezing just above her left hip, a particularly vulnerable spot for her. Instantly Isis's eyes widened and she leaned forward, putting her elbows on the counter. Above the counter she did her best to maintain a calm demeanor, while under the table her hips and rear wiggled alluringly, unable to hold still while Marcy pinched and prodded. Without running away, every twitch away necessitated a swing back to his awaiting fingers, her waist imitating a metronome's dance.

**Ah! You've maybe heard of… hmhmhm… the Eboniaan Isle, prized for its sugars? While Frenchman hardly visit anymore, we still remember your tongues, ahaha!** She tried to speak in the best of tones, not the creole accents that would make her hard to understand. But with Marcy tickling her to the brink of laughter, she came off as a brazen flirt, giggling and leaning over to him, flashing a smile and a tantilizing glimpse of her dark cleavage. She could hardly sit and think of such things, as her mind was focused on the electric sensations Marcy evoked as he groped at her soft, sensitive skin. Playing by a game of her own rules, she refused to let Robespierre know exactly what was being done to her, leaving her vulnerable to Marcy's devious hands.

---

(Beiseker, if you're looking for something to do, I've a secondary character that has yet to find a way into the story. Feel free to look her up in the Reference thread.)

Evanya Onyotili wandered the campgrounds, admiring the industriousness required to set up such a complex in so short a time. She understood erecting all the tents and stalls required more than brute strength, but careful organization and planning. It made her wonder who was in charge of all of this. The Phauxnorse seemed to be moving like clockwork with the heavy poles and supplies, with Aygomen scurrying about under them. Evanya stayed clear of the active construction to avoid getting caught underfoot.

She was actually surprised at how little notice people seemed to be paying her. Apparently everyone was used to the strange when they were with the circus. Her dyed blue hair got barely a second look from anyone, nor her odd garments. A bit miffed at the lack of attention, she looked around for a way to be noticed. As luck would have it, there was a strange looking little Aygomen lugging a table and daring anyone around him to a game of strip poker. While he didn't look flashy, he was certainly garnering much more attention than her.

"Excuse me, sir!" Evanya called out to the man, walking up to him and waving a hand to gain his attention. "If you're looking for an opponent, I don't have anything better to do. I guess I can play a while and win some clothing off you!" The last line was a purely fake bravado, but she knew she'd get nowhere acting like the small young Labyrinthian that she was.

 

[Beiseker1]

(I did)

He stopped and looked around, searching for the one who said that. Finding anyone to play, or do anything aside of work as a matter of fact, was harder then he thought. Of course people were tired, but still the only thing that got an immediate response was alcohol. He was counting on gambling as a good pair to that, but no such luck so to speak. "At least till now." He thought looking at the girl.*

Piotr didn't recognize her, still she could be one of the new ones and with such an outfit she had to be from the circus or at least wanted to be a part of the show. "I'm not a 'sir' around here, so don't call me that, or else I will title you lady or whatever that is a good counterpart." He said jokingly and smiled to her. "Come with me, I wouldn't like to be played butt naked in front of all those people." Walking away he shouted "Last chance!" to anyone interested and disappeared between the tents.

The table hit the ground on the verge of the camp. Partially hidden from the rest with a thick bushes, an old tree and a barrack wall. "Wait for me for a second please." He said and came back a moment later with two stools. "It will be more comfy like that". Cards were a bit played but still not enough to be naturally marked, as he showed her after taking them out of the box.

"So what brings such a nice lady to this vile pit of show businesses... and gambling as it occurs?"

 

[Carnivore]

Evanya watched as the man quickly set up his poker game. He seemed very enthusiastic about the operation. Now that they had moved somewhere more private, her attempts at getting into the spotlight were thwarted. Still, this might be an interesting way to pass the time until something better came up. After all, how hard could a game of poker be?

"If I can't call you 'sir,' then what am I to call you?" Evanya asked the man, not knowing his name. "You can call me Evanya, if you want my name. But I'll take 'lady' or 'mistress' or just about any other titles you want to throw at me!" Very few had ever referred to her by anything like a title, and part of her was taken in by the mock flattery. Evanya watched as the man dealt out the cards across from her, beginning the game. Picking up her hand revealed poor cards, and for the first time she thought about the fact that the game was "strip" poker. Looking down at herself briefly, she realized she didn't have much clothing to part with. She dare not lose her shirt, unique article of clothing that it was. She could conceivably lose the pants, she'd make do with wearing underwear until she got back to her tent, and she'd probably manage without shoes… but that was precious little if she started losing. Evanya decided the best strategy would be to bluff.

 

[Beiseker1]

"Sorry for mu lack of manners mistress Evanya tha Fair, my name is Piotr" Both of the names he said with a foreign accent watching how she was picking what to bet. "And if you bet you're pants that your hand will beat mine than I shall do the same, double pants for the winner, hmm?"
It was very hard to say what she had, Labirynthian were always hard to figure out. At some sense hard partner for a poker game, in addition those psionic powers they had, or whatever it was. He looked at what he get again, it wasn't a great set, but he always said not to play a game you can't afford to loose, so it didn't matter so much. New acquaintance was much more important to him.
"Ready to show what you've got?"

 

[Carnivore]

(As an aside, "my bad" is a somewhat recent slang. In our century old setting, it stands out a little as excessively modern. As a non-native English speaker, of course I wouldn't expect you to know that. But the more you know…)

Evanya looked down at her hand again, contemplating the bet Piotr was making… maybe she could raise the stakes and get him to fold? "Alright Piotr… pants it is. But I'll raise you a pair of shoes!" She tried to look at him coolly, and not give away anything. If he accepted, she'd likely lose everything she was willing to bet in one hand. "Ah well" she thought. "It's too late to back out now. But to run back home with bare legs and feet…" At least then she'd get the attention she'd been trying to attain, although not in the way she'd like.

"So, Piotr… are you in, or is that too much for you?"

 

[Beiseker1]

(Corrected, thanks.
Sorry for a shorter post, not much to write about in this situation.)

One more check of his hand, and he grinned broadly. It was getting interesting, well he got what he wanted. He hesitated a bit. With weak or strong cards you know what you're getting into, but that "kind of medium" he had, it was the unsure ground. Oh what the heck.
"Oh my lady is getting bold, all right I'll take you're bet. Shell we check or maybe there is some more clothing you would like to loose?"

 

[Carnivore]

(No problem.)

"Oh my lady is getting bold, all right I'll take you're bet. Shell we check or maybe there is some more clothing you would like to loose?" Piotr said, not falling for Evanya's bluff.

"Damn." she thought. "This is going from bad to worse. There's no way I can raise anymore!" Looking up at him with a sad look, the poker face gone, she shook her head. "No Piotr, I'm afraid not. This'll have to do for now…" She threw her hand onto the table, showing a 2 of hearts, an 8 of clubs… all told nothing better than a pair of 2's. Unless Piotr's hand was completely junk, she had quickly lost half her clothing. "Bah, I should never have volunteered for this!" Never did it occur to her that Piotr might have had the ability to stack the cards when dealing.

Without even waiting to see his hand, Evanya set to giving him his bounty. She removed her shoes, plain things covered in mud, but worth something nonetheless and put them on the table. She proceeded to remove her pants and place them on top of the shoes. This left her very exposed: her shirt only came down to her lower ribs, giving it no hope of offering modesty. All else she had was a pair of white panties covering her nether-regions. Her slender legs and small feet were exposed to the world, as she tried to act nonchalant, sitting there on Piotr's stool.

 

[Beiseker1]

"Oh yes!" -He cheered laying in front of him pair of king, diamond and a sword. Turning his head a little when she was taking pants off. Old habits never die.
"Still" -he slowed down. "Never surrender before you're opponents cards hit the table."
He took her cloths like a real treasure, laid boots behind him, and hanged trousers on a branch as neatly as it was possible.
"And as I see I won't be able to just let you go in what your currently wearing... or less." -He thought out loud while shuffling the deck. "OK, let's give ourselves a chance to get back what we loose. Every lost item will be worth about... 10 minutes of tickling? That would give you something more to bid. Now you're in a hard position to win it back. What do you say?" -He asked giving her cards to deal.

 

[Relent<]

(Ok, so apparently no one knows where Taj is, and I don't know that Cassandra is coming back. I'm not sure what to do about the audition, etc, but for now I'll continue with the Marcy/ Isis subplot until I figure out what to do about you three--namely, Taj, E.E, and Cassandra)

As she actually began to speak, Marcy dulled the intensity of his tickling, allowing her the concentration she needed to conduct the conversation. However, some devious part of him decided that she should not have the full use of her facilities at any one time, and persisted in irritating her side underneath the counter with the gentle pokes of his single slim finger. After all, the last time he'd left her to her own devices, she'd swept him up off the fencing and carried him off; he couldn't have that again.

**Ah, oui oui. Any confectioner worth mettle knows of that sugar. I've heard rumor that you eboniaans can speak with your sugar cane, and persuade it to grow particularly bountiful and sweet. But this is just idle talk; you must be starving with such mute and sedate fare as I've come to find here in Aygomenia.** Robespierre went on, elated, as Marcy had predicted, to engage someone in his more comfortable language.
He began preparing crepes as he talked, flipping the fluffy, thin delicacies in a small iron pan, and seasoning them with practiced dashes of the wrist, and flickers of the finger. Two or three pans were all sizzling at once, various scents of both savory and sweet emanating from the oil.
"I'd like lamb in mine, if you would." Marcy chimed in above the din of the clattering iron and crackling flames, the french conversation as much over his head as the noises of the food's preparation.
"Quois? Oh, sure...**tell me, Ms...oh, I forgot to ask your name. What are you doing wandering the grounds with a miscreant like Marcy? A girl like you ought to know better.** he chided, Marcy looking at him a moment with a tilt of his head. He hadn't any way of knowing what was being said, but he had heard his name somewhere in the midst of the exchange.

 

[Carnivore]

Isis continued to grin merrily, as if Robespierre were either terribly charming or equally funny. Of course Marcy knew better, he was now tormenting her 'just' enough to keep her on her toes, unable to focus on more than what was going on around her, to plan any kind of counterattack to his games. She decided to simply savor the playful teasing for now and try to adequately respond to the merchant.

**It's no mere rumor! After this many generations, you could say we have as much a partnership with the cane as we are farmers! I should show you some of the sweets I can make with such fine ingredients…** Isis punctuated that remark with a flirtatious sounding giggle, as Marcy poked an effective spot. Isis certainly had no interest in the man, but the coerced flirting didn't bother her. She was not above using such means for her own ends. **My name is Isis Blackside, sir. I'll be opening a confectioner's stand here once I get my wits about me, something Marcy is trying his hardest to delay. I don't deny he's a miscreant, but (heheha!) I might be too, you know!**

Isis noticed Robespierre adding a bit extra in lamb and spices into hers. She couldn't tell if he were trying to get in her good graces, or was merely distracted, or was actually depriving Marcy of his fair share. In the end it mattered little. As she called out Marcy's name again, something she knew he'd recognize, she kicked his thigh playfully under the table. She could at least have a small victory in talking about him in a tongue he couldn't follow.

---

Evanya looked at Piotr carefully. He was right that she couldn't easily walk back like this… and despite her poverty, she could (in theory) pay in tickling indefinitely. She could play with this worthless currency until she won her clothing back. Evanya clumsily shuffled the cards and dealt them out, nodding wordlessly to Piotr in agreement. This time she had a better hand… three threes! Definitely a hand that could win, but also a hand that could lose. She waited as Piotr looked at his cards, trying to read his reactions as he decided how to place his bet.

 

[Beiseker1]

"Oh, it was definitely getting interesting" Piotr thought. His cards staggered him for a moment, so he didn't really get a chance to see Evanya's reaction to hers. He only had a moment before he received the last card, showing him a pair of fives. Not too good... bad even, but there was a plus side. He saw she was a bit afraid after the first hand, she seemed to still be thinking about his proposition of "paying" for the pledge. It was something he could use, make her fold before anything was at risk. His smile got sly.

"I could give you pants and a shirt for this one, what do you say?"

 

[Carnivore]

Evanya looked at Piotr dubiously. He was already offering two items, which would put her well on track to regain her lost items. At the same time, she'd have to offer him the chance to tickle her for twenty minutes… With this hand she felt she could might be able to win. She decided once again to pursue a bold strategy and raise. "Alright Piotr, two pieces of clothing, but I'll raise you one more… anything at all really. I'm throwing in thirty minutes with you, but if you lose you'll be the one missing some clothing. Are you in?" Evanya was worried he might raise in turn… what if he demanded 40 or even 50 minutes and won?! She wasn't sure she could even offer Piotr that kind of opportunity. A shudder ran down her spine as she thought of being under his touch for that long. But what could she do?

 

[Beiseker1]

That was dangerous, to really make her fold he would have to give nearly everything away, and stay only in his briefs. He could do that, but if she saw his hassitation it would be a lost bet for sure. Still there was a tiny chance she didn't have anything and just kept bold tactic from earlier. -He battled with himself, he wanted to win quick and easely, but deep down inside knew it won't go that way. -No, that's a slim chance, not with this cards, he played and failed. But there was few hands he could get right.
-You win. -Piotr said not showing his cards. Instead took off a shirt and trousers. Folded, and gave to Evanya.
-It seams you'll gonnna have a chance to tickle me too. -He smiled a bit less sure of himsalf, but having a good time.