A/N Well, here we go~
I've never actually been to a circus so...yeah.
You always wanted to go to the circus when you were little, but, as with many things growing up, you were too poor. You wanted to know what all the fuss was about; after all, all of your childhood friends had been, sometimes multiple times, and it fascinated you. You'd heard that this particular circus was run by a family named Makara, and was…unorthodox, to say the least.
Today your mother buys you a ticket, and two hours later, you're wheeling yourself into the handicapped seat in the front row, all the stories you'd heard whirling through your head. The seats are about halfway to two-thirds of the way full, and the murmurs you hear from patrons make you think that perhaps this circus isn't so popular anymore. You understand it stopped moving from town to town a few years ago and took permanent residency in the fairgrounds by your home.
Too bad you won't be around to enjoy it for very long.
About ten minutes after you arrive, the lights go down, and a loud male voice echoes over the crackling speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! Welcome to the most incredible display of supernatural feats in the area! What you are about to see may amaze and terrify you, so be warned!"
You don't bother listening to the rest of what the voice says. You are enthralled in the happenings on the floor. There are men and women in skin-tight suits running and doing flips here and there. Tigers, bears, elephants, and other such animals are following each other and some of the people in a circle around the large purple main podium. Loud and upbeat music played in the background, accompanying the man's voice. Soon though, with the shouted name "Makara," a swell in the music, and an explosion of smoke from the center podium, the ringmaster appears.
You are captivated for a moment by the intensity you can see in his eyes and the wide grin on his face. He is a tall and lanky fellow from what you can tell, clad all in purple, his face covered in clown's makeup. He's using an umbrella as a cane, and when he speaks his gestures are wide.
"Welcome, my brothers and my wicked sisters," he greets. His voice is quite a bit deeper than you thought it would be, and kind of raspy. His speech sounds like it's a…well, a welcome into a church. "Y'all are gonna be seein some miracles today! We gonna make believers outta you all, so sit back and enjoy!"
Almost before he finishes talking, two acrobats in gleaming spandex flip onto springboards, which launch them into the air, only to land on the opposite end of the arena on the backs of elephants. You watch in amazement. In fact, your jaw is pretty slack the entire hour you sit there. There are several acts, including trapeze artists, a small girl taming the tiger, balancing acts with the animals, and near the end, your favorite act: the clowns.
You don't much notice the ringmaster very much until he ducks out of the arena, returning a moment later in a completely different outfit among a slew of other people. They are all made up heavily, pale faces and exaggerated features, bright colors and big bodies. You suppose all that is for the comedy, but you're simply hooked on the fact that they're juggling on top of unicycles. The speed at which they ride, the entire stage blacked out except for spotlights trained on the performers, it just excites you. That ringmaster is a master juggler as well; he hops onto the center podium and begins with three clubs, slowly progressing as other clowns throw more and more at him from the smaller podiums.
Before you know it, though, the show is over, and everyone is standing from their seats. You wait patiently for everyone in your section to clear out before you begin to even roll out, but somewhere in between, you feel a hand on your shoulder and you jerk slightly, and look, and well, it's him. The ringmaster is standing right next to you, leaning down, that giant grin on his face.