Who: Hermes, Henley Reeves What: Soaking up the atmosphere Where: The Main lot, near the Side Show tent When: Monday morning, March 31st Warnings: Nothing yet! Status:Narrative, or Open! Closed, ongoing! (cut text lyrics from "Hopeless Wanderer" by Mumford & Sons)
The Carnaval de la Lumière. Hermes strolled down the main lot, hands clasped behind his back, turning slowly to get a good look at everything. Like all the times he’d come down to see their visitors’ little encampment, he didn’t approach any of the games or vendor stalls, stood aside to watch the rides, listened to the ballies but avoided the shows. He didn’t need to partake of their performances or offerings to just enjoy the ambience.
He felt quite at home among the little band of ragtag performers. Lost little wanderers, the lot of them, living on the measure of their wits and the hopes of seeing home again someday - his kind of folk. These were not heroes who'd chosen to go forth into the world - not all of them, at least. These people were swept up into a journey they didn't fully understand. He was curious to hear their tales, to see how they fared in future travels.
He paused outside the side show tent, studying the posters outside boasting their dancers, illusionist, and escape artist. He smiled, musing on the performers and labourers calling this place their home. Perhaps, he thought, he might tag along when they left. It wasn’t every day you came across a caravan quite like this one, on the journey of a thousand lifetimes. How could he resist? It was his business, after all, to look after such folk.