Pulling the Strings

By gg1237

Disclaimer: This is a fan work using the characters from Kibadoglover45's webcomic "Circus of Freaks". The only characters that belong to me are Charles and his Mother. Igor, Blake, their parents and the world they live in belongs to Kiba

Chapter One

Igor Morgan looked out of the window at the approaching carriage with a sense of dread as the lurched closer and closer to the house. Within this carriage contained his Aunt Matilda and her 2-year-old son and Igor's little cousin, Charles. It wasn't that Charles was bratty or obnoxious par say, if anything Charles' was a little too fond of Igor, the last time Charles had paid a visit was last Christmas and as soon he got there, he instantly clung on to Igor's arm and spend most of the holidays following him around like a bad smell. Then there was the nickname "Igg-Igg", it didn't matter how many times he tried to get Charles to say "Igor", all that ever came out was "Igg-Igg". In many respects Christmas was a double edged sword in the Morgan household for Igor; sure it meant treats and presents but dealing with Charles usually meant that he had little time for anything else but being the little pest's babysitter which he resented quite strongly.

Of course, his (twin) brother Blake didn't help matters either, he had taken one look at Charles holding on to Igor and collapsed into piles of laughter; hearing the phrase, "Igg-Igg" had just set fuel to the fire. Throughout the entire Christmas break, Blake mimicked Charles' speaking patterns and spend large amount of time using baby talk much to Igor's intense irritation. To make matters worse, he actually started to do it in public and in front of their friends; Igor had reached his boiling point when one day in classroom, Blake cooed, "Igg-Igg, do you have a spare pen?". This led to the riotous laughter from the rest of the class and later in the playground Igor returned the "favor" by giving Blake a black eye later in the playground; sure, he was grounded for 5 months but totally worth it.

From behind he heard the dreaded nickname as Blake slid into view alongside him, "Ohhh, looky-look, Igg-Igg,", Blake smirked, putting on a sticky sweet saccharine voice as well as emphases on that embarrassing term of endearment, "It's your little buddy-wuddy, come to play with you. Hmmmm...I wonder what he has in store for you? Tea parties? Baking? Playing house? The possibilities are endless. And I've got a front row seat to all of it". Blake clearly hadn't learned his lesson but that was pretty a given with him, some people just didn't know when to shut their mouths for their own sakes.

Igor flashed Blake a fake smile, his left eye twitching ever so slightly as he talked, his voice was oddly pleasant with a tiny hint of malice woven in, "Oh goodness, dear brother of mine. It's good to have to you by my side to make this moment even better. Thank you for that brilliant show of wit, Oscar Wilde, you could really make Queen Victoria herself laugh with the material that you're using. First, I've got that little worm hanging on to me like a scab that won't heal and I've got your comedy routine to go with it. I truly am, blessed". Igor said this last word with clenched teeth and a low hiss while showing Blake his closed fist as if daring him to utter another word. Blake closed his mouth but he was still smirking figuring that there was plenty time for mockery later on as starting a fight right now might not be the smartest thing to do at the moment since it was so close too Christmas and the last thing that either of them wanted was to endanger their chance of getting any presents.

While this heart-warming scene of brotherly bonding was going on, Aunt Matilda and Charles has already left the carriage and were walking up the garden. Mrs Morgan was in the living room, mentally preparing herself for the whirlwind that was her younger sister as she often did while Mr Morgan was burying himself in his newspaper and become lost in a world of economic planning or anything else that might affect the British middle classes in anyway. Now Matilda Ferguson was an interesting woman in the fact that she saw herself the main star in the stage melodrama known as life; of course, she wasn't actually an actress, oh heavens no! She was a respectable (or so she'd liked to think) member of Leeds high society, but that didn't stop her from acting as she was the greatest actress known to mankind despite pretty much being the only person who could give a bad performance as herself! This meant of course there was no way to tell wither Matilda was in genuine distress or playing up her "pain" for effect as a result many people found themselves simply staring blankly at her and unsure of how to respond. It's telling the twins avoided her as much as possible and Mr Morgan faded into the background as most people did when his sister-in-law started her theatrics and endless drivel about imagined plots and insults directed to her. Most people couldn't help but feel a sherd of pity for her little son, Charles who Matilda swung back and forth between suffocating, overprotective smothering of her young son to indifference when Matilda herself was caught up in playing in some imagined drama within her own mind. The whereabouts of her husband were usually unclear as he was always on business and neither Igor or Blake where partially interested in asking what he did for a living so it almost appeared as if he didn't exist in first place which might as well have been the case.

A barrage of knocks brought the Morgan's only servant known only as "Nanny" out of her drunken stupor and towards the door. The less said about Nanny the better; if only to say she neither qualified or willing to do anything of importance. As she opened the door, Aunt Matilda pushed past her, dragging little Charles by the arm and determined to make her first "performance" for the Morgens to be one to remember. "Hello, darlings", she drawled out, "It's moi, your favorite Auntie!". She caught her eye on the twins and she waltzed over to them; her loud, garish choice of clothing consisting of a nightmarish quantity of pink and bright blue petticoats were bustling as if they were giving a performance of their own. It was fitting for a woman so who lacked self reflection to be dressed so outrageously that the large amount of loud colors might have been able to deafen someone as well as shock the easily shocked society of 1900s Britain.

Without warning Aunt Matilda, took a hold of Igor and gripped him a huge crushing hug that seemed almost impossible for a woman of such a petite frame, "My chubby-wubby little nephy-wy-poos", she screeched, "You've grown soooooo much since I last saw you last! Where DOES the time ago?" She put toward this question as she lost her iron tight hold on Igor and motioned towards Charles, "And little Charlie-Warlie has been sooooo looking forward to seeing you again. All the time as we rode here, he just kept saying want to see Igg-Igg, where's Igg-Igg? Which was just simply too precious for words!". "It was um...nice to see you too Auntie", Igor still a little winded after that bafflingly brutal form of affection.

Charles lurched towards Igor, his skinny toddler arms wrapping around the older, chubbier arm, "Igg-Igg", the tiny boy squealed; his brown curly haired head bobbing in pure delight. Blake meanwhile was watching this with barely constrained amusement, "ohhhhh", Matilda began, "Blakey- Flaky, I didn't see you there! Come and give your dearest Auntie-pops a huggy-wuggy". "It was good to know", Igor thought internally while their Auntie unleashed her attacks of affection on an even more unwilling Blake, "that Karma has a way of balancing itself out. Blake turned a shade of bright red, it was clear that this attention not welcomed; "Yeah, nice to see you and all that sh-", Before Blake could utter that particularly vulgar expression, common sense (for once) won and had defeated that impulse, "…I mean... Hello Aunt Matilda". It was fortunate for the little troublemaker that Matilda was not a very perspective woman and had remained oblivious to any kind of displeasure that her nephews were showing at her arrival. Nanny just stood blankly looking at her; wondering how an individual like could possibly exist outside of a bad stage melodrama.

Matilda had then swept passed the twins at lightening sped and into the drawing room; catching the two Morgan parents completely off guard (she had a skill for this, not a marketable skill granted but impressive enough on its own). "Charlotte", she squealed, "Baby sister of mine! How are you? Is Owen treating you well? Does he attend to your every whim? Do you feel content with everything? Do you still-" "Hello, Matilda dear,", Mrs Morgan said mercifully cutting her off, "Yes Owen and I are perfectly happy with our lives." Mr Morgan just pulled his newspaper closer to his face, this was his only defence against the onslaught of annoyance. "Every bloody Christmas," he seethed inwardly, "Every Christmas, the same routine, the same show. Why do we put with this? Afterwards we usually need a holiday to cover from this one". Overall it appeared that Christmas' in the Morgan household were eventful to tactfully say the least which usually resulted in a few tempers being tested and the tension to become to clear to any outsider.

Meanwhile Mrs Morgan asked the question that everyone in the Morgan household dreaded, but was had to be asked for the sake of good manners, "How are you?". As she was given a stage prompt, she had flung herself down on the living room coach and positioned herself into a bizarre pose which made her look like an amateur actress' hinged interpretation of the great Cleopatra. "Oh darrrrr-ling", she drawled, "Where do I begin?".

Meanwhile in the hall, Charles was still latched onto Igor's arm and squealing with excitement to be with his beloved cousin again. "Okay, Charlie," Igor began trying with all his effort to keep calm, "It's time to let now". Charles shook his head and clung even tighter to the taller boy, "Charles,", he hissed through gritted teeth, "I mean it". Blake just looked on in disbelief, "Oh for god's sake, just push the little turd off! Do you want me to it?" Igor give Blake an incredulous look, "Okay, number one; He's two years old, you might be a bloody bully to younger kids but I'm not. Number two, even if I did do that Mum and Dad would never let me out of the house again after it, not to mention I'd have deal with Auntie's shit too! So no, I don't think that solution of yours is as helpful as you believe it to be". Just let me handle it.". Blake backed away putting his hands up as a show of harmlessness, "Relax, you didn't really think I would push him, did you?," he then added in a sotto voice, "Well not too hard anyway."

Igor have a heavy sigh, choking down his irritation had taken all of his willpower "Look Charlie, wanna play a game?", Charles looked up at Igor, his bright eyes shining with unstrained glee, "Yeahyeahyeahyeah", the little boy mercifully let go out Igor's arm and he began bouncing up and down. Meanwhile Blake shot him a look that screamed, "there's no way in hell that I'm going to do this", that Igor wisely ignored "Okay. Okay ", the chubby lad placed his hands on the tiny boy's shoulders dictating that he should calm down, "Let's tell you're Mum and our parents that we're going outside and then we'll think of something fun, right?". Charles let out a squeak of delight and had taken Igor's hand rather than his arm as he was being led into the drawing room, where his beloved mother was still talking.

Igor cleared his throat, interrupting Matilda half way through a demented rant about someone called Edwina who was allegedly spreading rumours about her cat, "Mum? Dad? Auntie? You would mind if we went outside for a bit?". Both parents inwardly were relieved for this short break from the insufferable woman's voice, "Well I suppose it would be okay,", the twins mother begin, "If it's okay with your Auntie". Matilda waved the children away with a gesture of a hand like a Queen dismissing a servant, "Yes, Yes perfectly fine. Just remember not TOO long, my Charlie-Warlie is sensitive to the cold".

As the three boys turned away, Mr Morgan spoke up for the first time, "Stay in the garden and don't leave there. I'm counting on you boys to look after your little cousin". Blake rolled his eyes as they left the drawing and taking special care not to let his father see, "Look after your little cousin", he mimicked his father, as they went out the door, putting on a goofy voice that made the other two boys giggle. Upon reaching the garden, Blake broke into a devious giggle at was clear that a plan was forming in his head and one of Blake's plans certainly insured chaos in the foreseeable future for all involved in the surrounding area.

Blake grinned at the other two boys, "Okay let's go," Igor shot him a puzzled look, "Go? Where?". "Any bloody where", Blake groaned, "This is as boring as shit! I went to get out of here! Do something! Anything! Surely You don't want to spend the whole holidays shut up, here do you?". After a small period in which Igor weighted his options, "Well ….no," he began, "But they'll certainly notice that we've been out of the garden. And I'm really not in the mood to get into any shit that would ruin my break." Blake sighed, "It's simple," looking like a teacher who was trying to get through a particularly difficult child, "We be quick. We walk around, we rise a bit of hell and then we rush back here. Besides Auntie can talk for hours so I'm pretty sure that covers us for a while". This of course was a valid point, there was distinct possibility that this plan might in end up working if they were sensible with their time management; however the probability of such management was rather unlikely in regards to these children.

Slowly but surely, Igor was coming round to the idea, but one thing still bugged him, "Well what about... you know", he gestured to Charles who was still holding Igor's hand, "What if one of our pals sees us, we'd never live it down." Blake snorted, "So we simply avoid the places where they usually hang out; also, don't worry about Charlie here telling us, he pretty much hero worships you." He bent down to Charles at eye level, "Wanna have some fun little buddy?", he asked ruffling the smaller boy's hair; who once again let out a squeal of delight. On seeing this Igor shrugged, "Sure why the hell not? It'll worth a laugh, I guess". And with the three boys tiptoed stealthily out of the garden and into the snow-covered street.