Who: Elia & Artair What: Something isn't right... When: October 23rd, late night Where: Virtue & Vice Warnings: Potential scares!
Even with a dancer disappearing, Elia wasn't too worried. Girls ran off sometimes – they became enamored with a wealthy customer, or someone particularly handsome, and they just decided that the Cirque wasn't worth it any longer. The travel, the hours – Elia knew it could be tiresome. There were parts of it that were always interesting, and then other parts that could make a girl tired right down to the bones.
As the night wore on, however, the witch could feel something in the atmosphere changing. Elia wasn't one to scare easily – she made it a point to be one of the dangerous things in the dark. But there was a vibe that she just couldn't shake. Customers were a little more short-tempered than normal, a little more rough. More than once, she had slipped out of the lap of a customer who had just turned nasty, seemingly on a dime. More than the usual number of guests had been escorted away by Security.
She had just finished with one customer, a man who had grabbed her wrist so roughly that she had watched bruises bloom on her fair skin. It didn't matter that they healed right away; his sudden change worried her, almost frightened her. It had seemed fair enough to frighten him in turn. Elia had left him with a set of slices on his cheek, the result of one of her darklings' claws.
She stepped outside for some air, onto the black-and-white path behind the large tent. It was a place she was familiar with, a place that normally felt homey... but something was wrong. The cool air sent an uncommon shiver down Elia's spine – it felt wrong. Heavy, like the dark was almost a tangible thing. She had never felt anything quite so strange, so... worrisome.