The roar of the crowd tonight was deafening. They had enjoyed a wondrous assortment of dance styles from across the globe, seen daring acts of bravery in men facing wild and foreign beasts, and even laughed under the silliness of a few clowns and jesters and their antics. Performers had paraded across a dirt floor stage for them all evening, displaying their personal oddities for the world to see and jeer at or to applaud. The big tent. The circus. It was a wild menagerie of social classes, the occult, taboo, and wonderment all rolled into an assortment of entertainers that had thrilled the crowd the night through. This was the end of the ride, though, a final send off for those that had stayed and enjoyed their time this evening. It was not something one man in particular cared for.
Unbeknownst to the crowd beyond the tent flap, he had already been among them many times this evening. He had simply not maintained the same shape or species. While the art—or curse depending upon how one viewed the matter—of shapeshifting was decidedly unknown to the majority of the global population, here his particular talents were utilized in an unusual fashion. He entertained by portraying the ferocious tiger. He amused by bellowing as a sea lion. Here he used his particular talents for what the Ring Master deemed “parlor tricks” which were in fact “beneath him.” But for Atem, this was a chance of normalcy. Though the onlookers were not privy to his actual identity, they at least enjoyed him for what he could be.
The final act was nothing more than a range of aerial stunts. Tonight, however, there were plans in place to spice things up. Tonight he would include an audience member, a “random” individual whom had already been pre-determined by her ticket number, in the stunt. She would experience some high flying fun and, per the Ring Master if she enjoyed herself perhaps contribute a sizeable donation to the circus. He of course didn’t know this woman from Adam, but it was of no consequence to himself. She wasn’t going to be hurt in this endeavor, and this was a routine he was far too familiar with to fail.
So with confidence, and more importantly charm, in his gait and smile, he strode out from behind the curtain and performed a series of flips and spins in the midst of his vaulting that landed him precisely in the center of the ring. The Ring Master introduced his star acrobat, though it was doubtful some in attendance focused on his words so much as the look of the man now at his side. He looked truly the part of a foreign oddity from some distant land, with eyes of a deep crimson hue and the bronze tint to his skin a stark contrast to the pale white of the Ring Master. He towered over the man, a substantial height of six foot six with no such lankiness to his name so much as an obvious look of lean muscle. His torso was bare, a faint dusting of bronze hair, not quite visible due to the distance of the stands, was present on his chest which trailed down into a thin line past his belly button into the more form fitting spandex like material his other acrobats wore. His hair was a natural tri-colored assortment, standing out more so for the fact it was spiky and appeared to simply naturally grow in that state.
The Ring Master explained the final event prepared for the night, and there was a rush of excitement as people checked their tickets. The spotlights whirled madly across the crowd until they settled on one young woman. “Come on down!” Cried the Ring Master.
