People typically indulged in activities befitting their unique personalities. It was a simple fact of life that people enjoyed performing in events that better worked towards their skillsets, and those themselves were typically defined by someone’s life experiences, and thusly, their personalities. Rebellious sorts rarely found themselves grueling under the boot of those they considered to be corrupt, and so it was unlikely to find one supporting a political rally. Industrious people had spent their entire lives forging iron and steel, sewing leathers and cloths, creating arts and crafts and trade goods for the betterment of all, and so it was far more likely to see one attending a seminar over the nature of their particular trade than to find one entranced in a particularly riveting game of Piol. That wasn’t to say that people occasionally enjoyed activities that seemed as though they would not be fitting to their distinct qualities, it was simply less likely to occur.
Perhaps it was that reasoning that made it so odd that this was not the first, but the second contest that the twilight hybrid had attended in as many seasons. Strangely, he didn’t even particularly enjoy the events, though they were amusing enough to hold his interest. No, rather he was drawn to the promise of reward that had been presented at both festivities, and whilst he didn’t consider himself greedy, he was not above indulging in the jingle jangle of golden nels falling into his coffers.
Something of far more interest than the presence of a reward, however, was the host himself. The man had identified himself during one of his escapades in the Underground as Kyin, and whilst the hybrid knew little enough about him, he had spoken of his work as both a leatherworker and a smith; likely a fair hint as to where the prize money for his contest was coming, though he didn’t want to immediately assume that there wasn’t an outside sponsor to the show. The Qi’Ora had foolishly attempted to blackmail him, and had then offered his services to the fledgling faction which the twilight hybrid led, accepting him entirely on the basis that his talents would be put to good use for them. He had mentioned finding the hysterical man, but in honesty he had not expected to run into him quite as quickly as he actually had, especially organizing such a garish contest for himself.
The idea of ostracizing and embarrassing himself for the purpose of suiting the peculiar mood of the Qi’Ora was anathema to the hybrid, and yet he recognized that he could not simply pull off a maneuver as he had with Parren a season prior. No, he imagined that the entire spectacle was under far more watchful eyes than Parren’s had been, because the fiasco had caused such havoc and loss of life; though admittedly that had been restricted to a single soul, and a rather mangy one at that. Even discounting the fact that they would be intercepted, it would not do for him to rob his underlings of their well-earned funding, nor to threaten them into granting it to him, even if it would go a long way towards supporting their mutual plots and schemes. No, people became far more selfish and rebellious when their means of life were stolen away from them, sometimes even more so than when their family were slain or exiled. It would be a mistake to so blatantly antagonize those who would be working with him in his future endeavors, and the Prince for all of his disproportioned form detested mistakes.
That meant that the only remaining option for gaining the potential prize had been using a pair of his more trusted underlings; half of what made up his personal retinue. Oxy had been somewhat reluctant at so publicly making himself known, especially since he had been present for the previous event wherein a massive chase had ensued after him, but the twilight hybrid had soothed his worried soul by declaring that those who had hunted him so eagerly had not truly gotten much of a look at him, and that there were guaranteed to be other Aukari in the city. Beyond that, the great remover of memory; time itself, had been at work since last season, and he sincerely did doubt that they would receive any trouble for their prior incursions. Nevertheless, in an attempt at better suiting their disguises, Oxy had gone and run a powder the color of soot through his normally vivid red hair, and instead changed it to the more common color of dirt and mud.
Slip had taken far less encouragement. She had been remarkably eager to participate in the act, citing that she had always wanted to be in a talent show, and had been to several in her life in an attempt at learning how they operated on a fundamental level. She had assured Noth that they would have the prize, and despite her thin frame, her words carried enough weight with her monstrous leader to convince him that it would be true. The twilight hybrid had granted them an allowance of thirty golden nels for the sake of purchasing props and assorted material for their act, but in truth he hadn’t a clue what they had actually brought with them; they had already moved all of their supplies to the site of the contest in advance.
So, the twilight hybrid, slayer of nearly forty souls, defiled monster, and self-proclaimed Prince of Eternal Mercies stood within a crowd, his unusual features masked by a fairly baggy cloak and hood which had covered his feathery visage from view. He observed with mild curiosity as the first act began, paying close attention to the entrance of the starting contestant. It was not a particularly spectacular acrobatic performance, but Noth doubted he could have done better, and it was certainly a good way to make an entrance.
The jester proceeded onto the stage, retrieving a basket of eggs which had been placed there, and speaking to the audience of his intentions; to juggle the raw eggs. Noth was unsure why he felt it necessary to crush one of the eggs, but he assumed perhaps it was meant simply to demonstrate that they were in fact raw, and had not been boiled. No matter the intentions behind the juggler’s firm grip upon the frail oval, it shattered within his hand, spraying its semi-solid contents upon his face like a beast of burden spitting into the face of its master.
Noth snorted at that, though he couldn’t be certain whether it was amusement created from the man’s nonchalant attitude, or from his potential incompetence. That incompetence exemplified itself moments later when the man actually began his juggling act in earnest, doing well for the first couple of bits before utterly failing, and striking himself with several eggs, spilling their wet and; he imagined, uncomfortable contents onto the juggler. Noth imagined that the act had failed in earnest, and that the embarrassed performer would not slink off of the stage, but an instant later he continued as though nothing had changed.
He had proceeded to land face-first into the basket of eggs, and then, finally, he removed himself from the stage. It hadn’t occurred to the hybrid at first that the man was simply attempting to entertain the judge as opposed to displaying any real talent, and whilst he didn’t have a firm grasp upon what Kyin actually found to be amusing, he couldn’t help but to think that the jester might have been on the right track with his ill-suited act.
Well played.
