"At least that's what I heard." He let out a quiet, relieved sigh as he watched the first flame go out, but he jolted back when he saw the second. "Yesterday was my sharpshooting, today- great Russian werewolf." Oleg's voice was still gruff, although he seemed much less angry. "I can't cook it. Must be raw. Otherwise the act does not work."
“Oh, puppy,” Donny said with a yip. “Good boy, eh?”
He ignored the timid remark from the man and poured more fuel, watching the flame grow larger. As it was at its peak, Don inhaled deeply. He let the breath go from his lungs, watching the fire coil up with great force in response. It flew forward, sending a wave of heat outward before vanishing.
"Don't call me a puppy." Oleg growled, fidgeting with his septum piercing. "I'm not your 'good boy' either- Shit!" He leapt back, the fire's heat startling him greatly. "You are crazy, dragon!"
Don chuckled, his laugh almost silent and on the verge of a giggle. “I take that as a compliment. Anyway, what time is the show?” He brushed off his fiery torch like it was nothing, dropping it beside his pool. He kept the fuel with him and dripped it over his arms, lighting it and watching the flames appear instantly, wavering with each choreographed step Donny took.
"Okay, guys! Break it up." Seth said, getting tired of their insults and retorts. He pushed his wheelchair forward in an attempt to physically remove distance between them before a fight got started. "How about we focus on something other than the acts for today."
Oleg dropped to a crouch, still a safe distance away from Donny's fire. "Six in the morning. Until nine o'clock. In two days we move to another city." His tail thrashed wildly, almost like it was in sync with his heartbeat. "Does that fire not burn your skin?" He tilted his head, clearly curious, but definitely still wary. "Isn't it hot?"
“Eh… A little, but not much,” Donny replied. “Just kinda like when you drink whiskey. Burns for a bit, but feels good, y’know?”
The fire continued to crawl up his arms, lacing his back.
Don’s gaze shifted over to the man in the wheelchair. “Mornin’ Seth. How’s it going?”
"Ah. Whiskey. I understand." He stood up, grinning. "A clever man, Seth, trying to separate us."
Don scoffed. “Leave it to alcohol to get your attention.”
He took a deep sigh, sitting down in his pool. The displaced water spilled over the edge and the fire fizzled out as it made contact with the liquid. Don shrugged off the rest of the flames, now fully engulfed in the water.
“And oi, Ollie. You just don’t wanna be this close to fire.”
He lifted just his head up, grinning mockingly at the wolf-man.
"Are you trying to call me an alcoholic?" He had to stop and think for a moment, forgetting the words he wanted to say. "You are… an ass." Oleg looked proud of himself for a moment when he finally remembered the words.
“You are… correct,” Don said, mimicking Oleg’s pause. “But you love me all the same.”
He hopped up from the pool, sitting on the edge of it and grabbing his sweater. Instead of putting it on, he used it as a towel to dry off, leaving it resting around his neck. He then pushed himself to his feet, sauntering back to his trailer. He dissapeared inside for a few moments, then re-appeared cloaked in his everyday apparel. A new pair of khakis, a red collared shirt, and two golden rings around his right arm. He walked back out, continuing the conversation.
“But Seth is right, y’know. Might as well talk about something other than the acts.”
"It.. is.. a love-hate relationship." He took off his jacket, glancing up at the sky. "Do you think it will rain? It's been a long time, but I hope so. I miss the rain. Or snow. Mostly snow, in fact, we don't get much anymore." Oleg looked over at Donny. "You are from England, yes?"
“Bright man, you are,” Don replied. “Sure am. Over there it seems I can’t get a break from the cold and rain. I’ve always preferred heat, as you can tell.” He spread his arms, gesturing to himself. “But I work with what I get.”
Oleg looked very proud of himself, almost like a dog who was just praised for doing a trick. "So you're familiar with rain? I myself am from Siberia, so I know snow well." He held up his jacket. "Unnecessary. I just wear it for comfort."
“Well, I’ve certainly never dealt with that much snow. It gets much too cold for my liking.”
Don glared up at the cloudy sky as a single drop of rain fell on his nose. He sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He skipped down his trailer’s steps, just softly noting the rest of the members around.
“So, Wolfie, have you met with the newcomers yet? See any striking potential to rack up the sales?”
"I find a lot of snow calming." He winced as the raindrops began to trickle onto his head. "Don't ever call me Wolfie again. When you look at the new meat? Yes. Cyborg here will be promising." He nodded matter-of-factly as he spoke. "The money should come like.. an open faucet. Will be pouring in, right? Like a waterfall." He paused for a second, thinking over what he said. "Yes."
“Well said,” Don mumbled with a smile. “Can’t lie, I am excited for tonight’s show. With all the new people and wonderful acts we have lined up. One more day and we move on, too, eh? Enjoy it while it’s here.”
(I have to go rn because it’s pretty late where I am. I’ll be on tomorrow, though :)
(Sorry guys I’ve been real busy but I’ll try to Jump back in tomorrow)
"Better to be excited than not. There will be a lot of work for tonight, unless the rain kills the crowd." He glanced around at the circus grounds, grass trampled and wet. "I can't wait to leave. This place is full of rude customers, very ungrateful for what we go through for them. Would you believe I got food poisoning for this shitty crowd? Only once, but still." He growled out his last few words, shaking his head. "Has anyone heard the news of where we're going next? I don't know yet."
( Alright! :o) )
Mre remained quiet, but let a knife fly into a tree, impaling itself in it. The knife had whizzed right between Oleg and Donny. "Too shaky. Need new grip gloves." He muttered to himself, leaving the knife there for now. He would do a sweep once he finished throwing.
Oleg yelped, ducking away from the knife. “Fuck! Mre, look.. Must it be this tree? And with no warning?” His face was blanched white with shock. Normally he would’ve been used to the knives whizzing past him, but this time it had really startled him.
Mre let another knife fly, this one landing right underneath the other. "Yes. This one's in my sights and you two are getting too loud." He said quietly, pulling his gloves back up. "So please stop you two." Mre coughed.
Oleg laughed cacophonously, shaking his head. “Too loud! We are making ourselves too loud!” He pawed at the packed dirt patch he was standing on with his foot. “But we are outdoors, Mre. I am free to be as loud as I want- it is daytime, after all. Nobody is trying to sleep.”
Mre sighed. "I will put this knife through your hand." He muttered under his breath, going back to practicing his throws. He was usually quite quiet and shy, but I suppose he woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
“You're so angry today. Why? Us, we’re just having fun.” Oleg frowned, thinking to himself, though he couldn’t figure out quite what the reason could be.