Gone Astray (Open]

[ARTISAN KIM]

The moment they stepped out of the facility, the chimera could feel the negativity wafting from the other Oddities. Some of them seemed frightened that Artie was walking around, while others appeared angry. Seeing a straightjacket – never mind being unbuckled except for the hands – and the clinical, light blue pants he'd been given didn't convince passerby that the chimera was ready to function in society just yet. Their looks made Artie uncomfortable as he followed behind PJ, keeping close enough to occasionally trip over the invisible boy's heels. “Everyone seems so...”

Artie trailed off; he lacked a verbal way to express his shame and discomfort. He ducked his head, his tail went limp, and he chewed his lip nervously. How long would the bad stigma remain? How badly could the rumors have spread? “What do they think happened?” he asked, “I mean...y-you aren't afraid that I'd hurt you again, right? So it shouldn't be a problem, right? Right?”

Now that he'd psyched himself out, the chimera tread on PJ's heels more than ever. Artie reasoned that as long as PJ was close by, nothing bad could happen. Everyone would see that he was harmless! A harmless, trembling young man in psychiatric ward garb who'd earned the reputation of being that “crazy-animal-boy-who-tried-to-kill-PJ”. Harmless, see?

[/size]

[P. J. UMBERMAN]

Following a small chat with the receptionist regarding the release of Artie, PJ was granted a hesitant 'yes'. He vowed to go directly to the ringmaster and report himself back, as well as keep Artie in his restraint. He agreed solemnly before heading out into the disappearing desert heat. There, he would face one of the most unsettling walks in his life.

PJ stepped outside of the 'jail' and back to the main street with Artie tagging behind. He looked to the end of the road and, due to the fact that Circo consisted primarily of one long road with all the buildings facing each other (much like an old western movie), it seemed like the hike to the manor was much longer than it really was. That wasn't even counting the obstacle of hoards of staring bystanders. PJ gulped, swallowing his fear for Artie and pressed forth.

Is that... Is that PJ? God, he looks so messed up...
The poor guy... It's all that stupid animal's fault.
Yeah! Why are they even letting him back out? He could tear anyone to pieces!
That innocent puppy act isn't fooling anyone...
He's a monster and a liar... I hope the ringmaster does something really nasty to punish him.
Maybe he'll put him down!
Hopefully... Before he tries to murder anyone else...
What a disgusting animal...

Well, PJ was right. Those rumors spread like wildfire. The bitter whispers audible by their spite could be heard by PJ, so it was assumable that Artie heard them too. He saw them pointing at his straight jacket, and PJ's jacked up invisible body. PJ was too worried over what the others were saying to respond to Artie's question as to whether or not he was scared.

He wouldn't admit to himself that, deep inside, he still was.

It was good that he didn't hear him though. That would have made things a lot more painful. It was hard enough, really, to see Artie's own 'family' turn against him. He had done a lot of damage in their mind, so, unless they saw solid proof that what they're believing is wrong, he was no longer a brother to them. "C'mon Artie don't listen to them let's just keep going please..." PJ whispered, the strain of extreme stress on his voice. The situation was bad, really bad, but of course it would get worse.

A few of the oddities began to throw some things, from half-eaten fruit to coins to even rocks. Most of the oddities didn't engage in this however, seeing as that action wasn't much better than severely hurting another oddity. Even still, those chatted amongst each other, tossing around words like 'beast', 'savage', and 'maniac'. PJ himself was called stupid a few times by allowing himself near Artie, but this time he couldn't muster a reaction to the word. He was numb, really, except for those words stabbed directly to the chimera. Those were the things that hurt, and PJ didn't know how much more he could take.

[ARTISAN KIM]

Their words triggered an onslaught of memories best left oppressed; the convulsions of his closest playmates as they were “put down” for being defective, the daily doses of needles and mind-numbing pills, and the confinement to a small cell where he waited his turn to die. Artie froze up, unable to do anything but tremble in the wake of the crowd. Memories still flashed before him and he stared at the crowd, sometimes watching as the oddities faces morphed into familiar doctors or other chimeras he'd played with as a child. Insults blended together into a string of nasty thoughts inside Artie's head, ones that sent him into a state of panic.

“Stupid. Worthless. Replaceable. Animal. Dangerous. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Disgusting. Beast.”

There wasn't enough air. He couldn't breathe.

“Look what you've done, stupid. They'll kill you now. Don't look at them. They hate you.”

He gasped for breath. His chest heaved.

“Carter is going to hate you for what you did to PJ.”

Lightheaded – he was feeling lightheaded. He wobbled from dizziness.

“You're an animal, so what did you expect? Don't ever trust humans, idiot.”


Artie felt his defensive instincts kicking in to protect himself from the crowd and their destructive words; it was the humans that put these awful thoughts into his head. The chimera felt terrified and angry at the same time, and the emotional confusion made him tense. PJ knew that was a dangerous mix. Then, one of the rocks nicked Artie across the forehead. A small amount of blood oozed from the scrape, but the “attack” was enough to set him off.

He whipped his head around to face the attacker, lurched forward, and snarled monstrously enough for the crowds to go quiet. The crowd gasped all at once and moved back, retreating like one body. Artie bore his teeth to the crowd and growled freely, unable to control himself in the situation. Unfortunately, it only made the whispers and accusations worse. The increase of insults came as a shock, and snapped Artie out of defensive mode for awhile...enough to run up to PJ and bury his face into the back of his friend's shirt. “I thought you said that people cared about me here,” he whispered.

[/size]

[P. J. UMBERMAN]

PJ quivered with the onslaught of the crowd with no idea what to say or do. He looked at Artie, physically seeing that the words were doing even more emotional damage to him. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't his fault... PJ repeated through his head, trying to convince himself that this was the case. It wasn't his fault that he was made in a certain way, but the oddities would only see what they've believed. In an abstract way they behaved awfully out of their love for one another. They were quick to jump on the bandwagon of hating another oddity if they were hurt, showing how much of a 'family' they were.

And PJ knew that, oftentimes, many of the oddities throwing sticks and stones were once just like him- scared, unstable, and fresh out of hell itself.

And yet, most of these oddities were still humans at heart. So naturally would they turn against a friend in bitter fear, it's just nature. But PJ didn't like this. No, he started to feel sick to his stomach. "Artie ignore them once they know the truth they'll apologize and everything will be okay and-" A rock zipped right over PJ's eyes and onto the chimera next to him, an action that caused an equally fast reaction of PJ's hands drawing over his own mouth. He drew out a hand to comfort the boy, muttering a small "Artie ohmygoodness...". Just as he did, however, Artie reverted back to feral mode. And that was when PJ backed off with a yelp.

Instinctually panicking, PJ nearly whimpered as Artie went off to scare the crowd. He watched him move to each person with a new snarl or snap of his jaws, each action causing PJ to back up more and more. Pleasedontcomebackandhurtmeohpleaseartiedonthurtme He couldn't control these thoughts of anxiety, the placidity once abundant in his mind now melting from the catastrophe. These thoughts, much scarier than Artie himself, disappeared once he turned back with a broken expression. PJ loosened his tense shoulders when he saw that Artie had been emotionally hurt, his own face broken as well. When Artie rushed on back to him, PJ nearly jumped when he latched onto his T-shirt. In a split-second spin PJ wrapped his arms around Artie, a tight embrace occurring in the middle of the town.

"Artie..." He whispered with broken sorrow clear in his voice. He squeezed a bit tighter, as if his own body warmth would thaw the ice that had frozen Artie's optimism. "They're blind, they're just blind..." The invisible boy couldn't come up with a proper reaction to the sudden turn on what seemed to be PJ's lies. But PJ didn't lie. He just... He never knew how /cold/ they could be. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry..." Reverting back to apologies. It was the only thing PJ could say, the only reasonable consolation. PJ glanced up at the crowd, who looked to each other in confusion. Why was PJ comforting the monster? Didn't he know that he could try to kill him again? "Shoo... Get on out of here. You all did a rotten thing today..." He commanded calmly to the crowd, which, to his surprise, began to follow his directions. "Everyone. Out. Now." The words were louder to the remaining stragglers that began to back away. Soon enough, the scene had been wiped.

PJ looked back at Artie, burying his head into his shoulder. "Artie... You alright?" He asked in a hushed tone, one that was soothing all the same. "I... I'll do everything I can to make them see the truth."

[ARTISAN KIM]

“Artie...You alright?”

How was he supposed to answer that? Wasn't the trembling and panic attack enough of an explanation? The chimera shut his eyes to block out the world's distractions so that he could focus on PJ's warmth, scent, and comforting embrace. The way Artie clung onto PJ was the way a small child would cling to an older brother for protection. “My forehead doesn't hurt,” he said, “I was just scared.”

Artie shook from fright, even though the crowds has dissipated. It was as though someone had left him out in the rain, and he'd shuffled into PJ's arms shivering and feeling unloved. “You're not like them, are you?” he asked quietly, “It...it was an accident, PJ!”

He couldn't hold himself together for much longer; he burst into tears and cried into PJ's shoulders. “Does Carter hate me too, now? And Lilly?” he cried, “I can't help myself sometimes, PJ! I didn't mean to be scary.” At most, the oddities had been annoyed with him before. But now, they outright despised the chimera for what he'd done. Hurting a fellow oddity was worse than taboo at the circus.

“You don't think those things, do you PJ?” he asked, his voice pleading, “PJ? I...I want to go home. Being locked up is better than this. Accepting being an animal is better than this. I miss them. I want to go home.”

[/size]

[P. J. UMBERMAN]

Ironically, the insistence that he wasn't physically hurt was not enough to even dent the exterior of PJ's guilt and despair. The now silent town didn't ease his apprehensiveness, though at least now they were alone. Now the world wouldn't hurt them, at least for now. But not even that could comfort him. It had been awhile since PJ had felt this /upset/ with himself. He had done nothing to stop this. All of this was really his fault, nothing was due to Artie's merit. He's a chimera. He was born- no, made- to be this way. It wasn't his fault. It was a miracle that he was the way he is today, a usual happy and carefree man. Now? Not even that seemed to remain. Here he was, upset. When was the last time he was truly happy? Ever since PJ had to try to find him, everything's been screwed up. PJ was the one that ruined him. Not Artie. Not the circus. PJ indirectly fed bait to the savages, throwing Artie out of the frying pan and into the fire. And now he wanted to go home. God, could anyone blame him?

"No... No I... Everybody makes mistakes Artie, everybody. I forgive you Artie, I promise..." He whispered, relaxing his grip. The intensity of the hug was founded upon terror, eventually giving way to one showing more compassion. "You didn't mean it, I know you didn't, sh, sh, everything will be-"

And then he started to cry.

PJ froze, unable to grasp the situation. He made everything worse. No surprise there. He felt Artie's tears touch his shoulder, a shudder going down his spine. He wanted to cry, too. He wanted to just break down, to sob at Artie's condition and his own failures. But he couldn't. PJ had to be strong, to lead Artie back into his true self. He needed to right all his wrongs. He had to. He had to...

PJ suddenly release his hug, opting for rather to place his hand on his chin, directly facing him to his nonexistent stare. "Artie. Look at me." It was like he forgot who he even was. "You care about those two. They know it. I know it. They return the feelings. They know the real you. The real you isn't what happened back there. It's something those scientists put in you to make them what /they/ wanted. It's their version of you. The one they wanted. Carter, Carter's like a brother to you. He's the same way. They made him into something he's not. He understands, I /know/ he understands. And Lilly... She means a lot to you, and you to her. Artie these are your best friends. They like you for who you are Artie, the person they know they see." PJ paused to take a breath. "You're an amazing person Artie. The people who threw rocks, the people who glared and taunted... They just haven't seen that yet. I will make sure they do. They need to Artie, you deserve to be loved by everyone here. You're funny, you're kind, you know how to make people smile and gosh darnit you belong here. We're all a bit misunderstood here, and we just seem to forget that everyone here has their own story. You do. I do. The other oddities are just... Sometimes, it's easier to make a decision based on the surface of the situation. It's hard, intimidating even, to look past the way things seem to be. But saying that you're a monster? They're so far from being right." PJ let go of his chin and ended up wrapping his arms around him again. "I'll stand by your side no matter what. I don't like seeing you unhappy, and I'm afraid the labs may do that to you... You deserve to be valued here... If it means anything, I value you a lot Artie. I really, truly do."

[ARTISAN KIM]

“I never deserved anything in my life,” he whispered, his voice fragile and broken. The concept that he was an irreplaceable, unique individual was alien to him. Except for the teddy-bear the woman had given him, Artie had never owned anything for himself. He'd been brought up to believe he only “deserved” to be punished for signs of weaknesses, failure, or disobedience. A creature like himself didn't have time for toys and games. And love? That would be lost on his beastly, animalistic mind.

The chimera's creators trained him to do everything from obeying dog commands, to reciting advanced reading passages from memory, to completing complex physics problems in his head...but it was all for show, all to please a potential investor or buyer. Chimeras his age would laugh at Artie's cooperation, of the way the facility had him eating from the palm of their hand. “I loved my masters,” he said, “But they never loved me.”

The jacket prevented him from brushing away his tears, so they slowly rolled off his cheeks. He trembled from holding in his grief and frightened tears, but did his best to stop for PJ's sake. Even if it was difficult to judge PJ's emotions based off of expressions, Artie was highly aware of changes in scent; PJ smelled upset, with perhaps a hint of terror from earlier. “I haven't made up my mind yet, about going back. Would you be mad at me, if the circus wasn't the place for me? I mean, if I ever decided to go back home?”

Immediately, Artie regretted what he'd said. How could he ask that? How could he admit his fears of not belonging, of not being able to settle somewhere comfortable? He'd always wondered if he was better off surviving on his own as a stray living off the streets, or as a wildchild living the life of a savage somewhere in the heart of a jungle. Would he be happier there? Or would he still have that craving, that addiction for human interaction? Or having someone hold him and love him? Slowly, Artie closed his eyes and rested his head against the invisible boy's shoulders. “Can you say it again, PJ?” he asked quietly, “That I'm valuable?”

[/size]

[P. J. UMBERMAN]

PJ shuttered when the words he spoke shattered into uselessness after he had cast them out to Artie. It made him upset, really upset, that Artie didn't feel the way he did when it came to his opinion of him. "No, no Artie don't say that..." PJ mumbled futilely, knowing that those words alone wouldn't help him. PJ had tried to make him feel better. He had tried to make him feel wanted, and that he had really and truly cared about him. And he did. But Artie didn't address that that really meant anything to him. In a sense, PJ felt like he was undeserving. All he wanted to do was help others, and show that he really valued everyone for who they were. But, understandably, Artie didn't seem like that was enough for him. The adoration of a stupid invisible boy, who couldn't even show anyone physically that he cared about him? Only the really desperate for a bit of esteem-boosting ever really came to him for help. At least that's what PJ was starting to believe. Artie needed someone more than him, and maybe, if he was given a second chance at the labs, he's be able to find it.

Which is why he didn't have the slightest negative reaction when Artie said that he wanted to go back, even after PJ inadvertently filled his head with lies that he'd be loved and valued here.

"No Artie, no I wouldn't... And if you really wanted to, I'd... I'd take you home." PJ admitted slowly, his shoulders heaving with defeat. Why would Artie want to stay in a place that hated him? Sure, that may go away soon, but no doubt that the events that unfolded a few minutes earlier would take a toll against him. He didn't want Artie to be depressed anymore, so maybe letting him go would be the best option. But then again, he'd be so /lonely/. And PJ didn't want that. As sad of an excuse of a friend he was, he had to try to be there for him. And throwing Artie into the place that would guarantee his demise was an awful idea.

With Artie's request, PJ took no second in between gently wrapping his broken arms around Artie's shoulders. "Artie, you are valuable. I care about you so, so much... I just... I just think you're really swell... I really want you to be happy, in whatever you do. And I'll promise I'll stand behind you in any decision you'll make, as long as you're safe and won't hurt yourself..." PJ then swallowed. "And I love you. I really, really love you... As a... Friend of course. And as my friend I want to do everything I can for you. I want to make the world see you the way I do, to show them what potential you have... You do mean a lot, Artie, those scientists didn't see it. They just wanted an experiment, something to make and be done with. Now that you're in the outside world, you have the potential to do anything. You can find those who love you, those who really care..." PJ squeezed a bit tighter. "But again, I respect any decision you make. Please Artie, don't feel like you have to please anyone in your actions. You'll find people who'll respect you no matter what decisions you make. I swear. If you want to go home, I'll walk you. And if you're lonely there... I can give myself up to them. They'll probably find a way to make a weapon out of me. Or something. I'll be of use there... If you want me to, I'll come with you. I'll stay home too, whatever you want..." PJ rested his head on his shoulder. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."

[ARTISAN KIM]

Artie tore himself free from the hug.

“You're not allowed to come with me,” said Artie, his tone matter-of-fact. Wasn't the reason obvious? Wasn't it clear? There was a hint of incredibility in his voice, as if he couldn't believe PJ would suggest leaving the circus. “You're the type of person that people need,” he said, “I'm a replaceable being.” The chimera didn't even blink, didn't even seem the slightest bit upset at the explanation. Admitting he was worthless was painful, but the notion was buried deep into his thinking.

Artie and kin were raised believing that their purpose in life was pointless without a creator or master ruling over them. He'd been taught as a child that thinking for oneself was wrong and would be punished, always violently. That's why he asked Lilly her opinion before he did anything. That's why he asked Carter for advice before he acted in a situation. Artie always carried that fear of slipping up, of making a fatal mistake, and of not being fit to guide himself without the aid of a superior.

PJ's battered body was a solid reminder of the lab upbringing. Artie's eyes swept over the stitches holding the invisible boy together, and he thought: “What was I thinking? I can't be the master of myself. Look what I did...Look what I can do when there's nobody in charge.”

The chimera's gaze fell to the floor out of guilt and embarrassment, and he was only partially able to keep eye contact with PJ after that. “Why don't you understand, PJ? There are lots of people who need you to be here, like how Carter and Raisa depend on you. So, you got a purpose here,” he said, “I don't.”

Or did he? Artie had felt...odd, when PJ told him they were friends. The feeling was foreign, alien, and a very rare occurrence in Artie's secluded, controlled little life. Nevertheless, hearing that someone loved him got the chimera smiling softly again. “Come on, PJ,” he said, “I think I know what I want to do.”

Artie took an awkward few steps forward, so that the duo could continue walking to the Manor.

“PJ?" he said. The chimera paused for a moment to look over his shoulder at his battered, broken friend.

"I love you like the way I love Lilly, just without the tingle.”

[/size]

[P. J. UMBERMAN]

PJ frowned slightly when Artie ripped himself from him, his arms quickly retreating to hug himself. Why did Artie hate himself like this? Did he know how happy he made his friends? He knew Lilly loved him. He knew Carter saw him as a friend. Everyone was at Circo fro a reason, him included. So why did he seem so upset? PJ's offer was swiftly rejected. "Don't say that Artie..." The invisible boy mumbled in a somber tone. Artie wasn't replaceable. Nobody on this earth was. "We need you here. We really do. You've turned Lilly's life around. You've made her happy. And Carter.., you can connect to him in ways I can only dream of doing. You know what it feels like to be him...
To be in his shoes. I can't relate to him to help heal him in that area... You can. I, you- You know I love Carter very, very much. I would take a gun to the head for him. But I don't know what lab life is, or how it feels. You do. And I can't heal his scars, and I don't do a great job at tending to them. But you... You know what it's like. /You/ know how it feels. We both need you. A lot."

Did he believe him now? Maybe. PJ watched in silence at Artie looked as if he was making his decision. What would he say? If he were to go back to the labs, he would do so alone. And he didn't deserve that. Maybe PJ would pressure him to lug the invisible boy along. He would miss everybody, but he promised to himself when he first arrived to the circus that he would do his best to make everyone happy. Especially those who needed it the most. And in this case, PJ wasn't even sure that Carter was made happy by PJ the same way PJ did from him.

But, apparently it seemed PJ's friendship was enough to make him stay. His forlorn expression quickly beamed into a smile, and the return of the words of affection lifted his spirit entirely. "I do too. And I'm really, really happy that you feel the same way." He assured sincerely, trotting up to stick by his side. PJ really meant this, for he knew that Artie truly was a good person. He may be imperfect, but wasn't everyone? A small chuckle of newfound happiness rose in PJ's throat as he looked upwards to the stoic manor. He knew the ringmaster was much more of a forgiving man than what everyone made him out to be. Hopefully, Artie's 'trial' would reflect that belief.

"C'mon, Artie. Let's go set things right."

((I'll rp Alistair once they get to the Manor, I just didn't want to put it all in one post ^^))

[ARTISAN KIM]

Time in the real world was the sole medicine for Artie's self-hatred. Adjustment from the watered down version of life at the labs to Circo's promises of the free, independent life he'd caught glimpses of within storybooks wouldn't be an overnight fix. The things PJ said didn't seem right, didn't seem real. Being needed, especially as an individual, was a concept Artie had trouble wrapping his head around. It would be a long time before the chimera could understand that he had to serve under nobody in life but himself...and even longer to learn there was nothing wrong or selfish about that.

“But PJ, I don't really know what it's like,” he said, “A lot of the things that upset him are normal for me.” Artie's skewed, limited perspective on the world was the main difference between him and Carter. The hybrid had experience in the outside world, the chimera did not. Because of this, Artie's thinking molded similarly to a child's; the world was black or white, right or wrong, good or bad.

“Carter is even like a translator for me sometimes, since he reads people so well,” he said struggling with the mannor doors, “I wish he'd know I'm jealous of him! He's so lucky to have been captured and not born there. I'm jealous of everyone, to be honest. I hope that won't make me a bad person.” Artie trailed off for a moment as he pushed open the doors, and his tail flicked thoughtfully behind him. “I can know everything in the whole wide world, but I can't communicate like a normal person. It makes ya feel stupid real fast when you say or do something that seems okay, but then it turns out to be bad according to everybody else. I have to think about everything I do or say, like, three whole times or more! It's natural for everyone else! Look at you! You're really good at communicating, PJ. You're a natural at it! Will you teach me? Please?”

Artie wasn't perfect, but he did give the perfect puppy-dog look.

((You can have the ringmaster come in next if you want. They're inside. ^_^))

[/size]

[ALISTAIR PYREWICK]

As the two entered into the manor building, many of the staff had turned to look at them in silence. PJ approached the counter before the grand staircase, mumbling something to the receptionist as he listened to Artie. Taking his words into consideration, PJ began to think deeply. What could he say to him? Artie just didn't realize that they did have a lot in common. Artie did like the labs, and rightfully so. His best friend did not. They were each entitled to what they wanted to believe, though most likely their opinions won't be set in stone. PJ didn't want to address this topic so he just gave Artie a more lighthearted reply. "Give yourself time Artie. Even things like that may change." Did PJ want him to eventually learn to hate the labs? Certainly not. He wanted him to gain perspectives and empathy for anybody. And that skill, of course, takes a lot of time.

At the mention of his jealously for Carter, PJ bit his lip. Did Artie know a terrible amount of Carter's life? If he knew a great deal about him, he wouldn't feel the way he did. Again, that would be the test of time. "It's fine to wish for an upbringing like someone else's, but you have to remember: The grass is always greener on the other side. Yeah, old expression, but it's true. No one here has had a remotely perfect life. As you learn more about the oddities here, maybe you'll find a solution to your own dilemma." PJ suggested in a near mutter.

His next sentiment actually had no worrisome effect on PJ. In fact, it seemed that the invisible boy knew how to address this one directly instead of being hopelessly vague, or at least that's how his mind thought of him. "Artie, you're fresh outta the labs. Of course you may struggle just a teensy bit." PJ assured in a light tone. It was only natural for him to need a bit of time to adjust. For some oddities, it took days. Others it took years. How long would it take Artie? "Artie, in just a few weeks marks my tenth anniversary since I first arrived at the circus."

He stopped once they reached the third floor, the fourth floor looming elegantly above them possessing only a gateway to ornate doors that surely led up to the ringamster's office. "For nearly ten years I've been trying to figure out this place and its people. When I first arrived here, I was... Not at all like I am now. I was treated like a freak in my old world, so why should I feel like I belonged here? I was just that kid no one could see, who had his face slammed into doors and been trampled by others if I didn't move quickly. I thought it hopeless to even try making myself feel like I belonged. But, over the years, I've tried to make friends. And you know what? The best way to do that, or so I have found, is just /be/ there for them. So many broken and battered hearts have made their way to Circo. And some of the things you may say will strike a cord with them. Sometimes, that can't be helped. But you're learning. And any good friend of yours should be able to see that." PJ smiled softly as he started up the final staircase. "You'll learn Artie. You'll pick up a few things here over time, and you'll get better. And hey, I could still teach you a thing or two about getting better. I promised to be stick by your side no matter what, remember?" With that, PJ approached the door's guard, who opened the portal to Artie's ultimate fate.

~~~~~*~~~~~

What a pleasant way to begin his evening.

The alabaster man stood silently in his archaic office, fire as usual the only type of luminescence granted to the room. In his polished suit the man of much power stood towards this fire, the waves of it casting red-hot shadows against his colorless face. Crimson eyes displayed no necessity to blink as it was apart of his nature. As the years passed, the creature imbued inside him increased its clutch on Alistair's 'normal' mentality. His shyness had withered into eerie silence when faced with others since his bestowal of his father's curse. Forlorn misery locked within him was masked with an unnatural frigidness of emotion. His face never once displayed exhaustion, ecstasy or depression. He wasn't an unfeeling man, no. He loved his circus and everyone within it dearly.

It was just the monster inside him that damned Alistair to a life of seclusion.

Now, he was quite aware of the incident he was soon to face. From a peak through his window he had seen the public shamming unfurl. He shook his head with the thought as disappointment leaked into it. Hadn't he told his family better? More importantly, hadn't he hired better staff? No matter. /That/ wasn't important. What was was the fact that one of his family members had nearly murdered another. And turned himself in. Not only had Artie broken the number one rule here, but now he was going to deliver his victim to testify for him. Alistair saw the two enter the building. Now the two were on their way to his office to hear Artie's fate. Swimming in his anxious mind were three of many possible outcomes-

A) He could be forgiven entirely and confront all of the oddities at a gathering to dismiss any fears his family has (which was Alistair's most wanted choice)

B) Be forgiven, but still assigned mental rehabilitation and a temporary ban from some facilities

C) Be outcasted and exiled from the circus immediately, which would most likely end up in another public-shamming dismissal

or

D) Be labeled as a complete and utter threat to Circo's way of living, put on trial, most likely voted down and ultimately be euthanized before he hurts anyone else.


Alistair prayed to whatever was out there that this situation would not come to his personal wicked nightmares set in forth by his father's crueler ways.

Tension built up in his unaltered eyes until he heard the knocking from the guard outside of his door. "Master, you have-"

In a breathy and barely audible whisper the white man replied a chilling "Come in...".

Surprisingly contradictory to his hard-to-hear command, the doors creaked open for the two boys and immediately shut after. Alistair had not even turned around yet before he had started to issue orders. "Artisan, Paxxton-Jay, please... Sit..." He watched from the corner of his eye as the floating clothes seemed to pull the seat with no true force. Once he sat, Alistair began to turn around in a painfully slow circle to face them. His eyes were wide, and his expression dead.

"Artisan, you have broken the Circo's most prized rule." He began without a hint of emotion. His mood was truly indistinguishable- not a hint of upset was in his tone, though neither was forgiveness. "And, if I may ask, what were your motivations behind your actions?" Alistair proceeded to sit down in his embellished chair, sitting pin straight to address the two. Before he got comfortable, however, he tilted his head and scooted gracefully back. "Oh, just where are my manners..." Without looking down, he pulled out a silver tray he had prepared for them from a nook in his desk. On this were two crystal-clear glasses, filled with water. "Please... Help yourselves..." He offered with a sickly face, his straight-line mouth almost curling into a smile.

Almost.

[/font]

[ARTISAN KIM]

First, the chimera kicked off the odd slippers and socks given to him by the hospital staff; they all bounced off the side of Alistair's desk except for the one, stinky sock that landed right in front of the Ringmaster. Then, Artie slouched in his seat like a schoolboy with bad posture. The most uncivil part about the whole entrance was how he turned his head, so that Alistair would only see a profile view of Artie's face. He'd turned his body to the side too, but the chimera was extra-careful not to meet the Ringmaster's eyes. If he ever looked in Alistair's direction, it was only to sneak glances at the glasses of water. He also stole a glance at PJ and asked, as if the Ringmaster wasn't in the room: “Is he going to put me to sleep?”

While some people thought Artie was being rude, the chimera was merely waiting for some type of trust initiation; the fight with Carter, the scratches from Aveira, the food from Lilly, and so forth. Artie didn't behave poorly on purpose, it was simply a rule of his not to trust those he wasn't familiar with. Alistair was no exception to this rule, despite literally being able to decide the chimera's fate in a matter of seconds.

“PJ told me it was okay, so I believed him,” he said softly. Artie sneaked another look at the water, licked his lips, then averted his gaze back to the floor. His explanations were as short as possible, so that he would have to talk to Alistair as little as possible. “I can't break rules if I got permission,” he added, “But I broke PJ, so I feel sad.”

By then, the glasses of water finally piqued his curiosity. Cautiously, he sniffed in the direction of the tray for traces of poison or drugs. Once identified as safe to consume, he wriggled and squirmed in enthusiasm. Artie's hands were still trapped inside the jacket, so picking up the glass wasn't an option. So like a thirsty puppy, he tried shoving his face inside the glass to lap up the water. In his eagerness, he knocked over the glass so it clinked against the metal tray. Water spilled over the edges, now dripping into a small puddle on the carpet. The mess didn't seem to bother Artie at all; he drank the puddle of water on the tray and finished with bright eyes, a smile, and a wagging tail. “Can I have more water, please?”

[/size]

[ALISTAIR PYREWICK]

Artie didn't realize how serious this situation was, did he? Alistair watched with a blank facial expression as Artie informally made his presence known. Not a hint of disgust for his disrespect or curiosity at what sort of drugs the nurses gave him. At any rate, Alistair tried to keep a formal yet calm exterior. Even when the sock was thrown at him, though immediately he flicked it to the ground without even casting it a sideways glance. He did notice that Artie wasn't even looking at him, though he wouldn't say anything in regards of that. After all, everyone was scared of him.

Though he couldn't see him Alistair knew that PJ was the only one taking this seriously. PJ didn't even answer Artie's question, though by his sudden stoic behavior the answer was obvious. Even Alistair's assurance of "Please, do get comfortable. I just wish to comprehend the situation that has occurred." wasn't enough for the invisible man. What was he going to ask? Well, it was obvious by the slight change of his face that Artie's enlightenment of his side of the story surprised him. "Paxxton-Jay, is this true?"

Though PJ had been distracted with Artie's plight with the water, his attention nervously flipped back to the leader of the circus. PJ nodded swiftly without a moment's notice. "Yes sir. It's true. Every part of it. He was angry, I copied my texture into that of steel so I could allow Artie to take it out on me. I came up with the idea myself sir. But he was a lot stronger than I thought." That was pretty sound evidence, right? Despite him telling the truth, there was a little bit of questionable attitude left inside of Alistair. Plus, that alone didn't seem to get Artie off the hook.

"I see..." The ringmaster responded, his eyes dead set on the invisible boy. Then, in a manner trademark to him, Alistair gradually turned his one-track stare to Artie. He leaned forward in his seat, and rested his head on the back side of his folded hands. Before he could mumble another syllable, the glass of water he possessed fell over and splashed only on the tray. There would have been a problem if the water fell on any of his very important documents. Once more Alistair pulled out yet another glass of water without looking from below his desk. Not even explaining why he had a ready arsenal of these glasses he slid it forwarded towards Artie with his silk-gloved index finger. His expression had not once changed, though he did lean a bit more forwards than he had previously. "If this is case, Artisan, please, tell me if you can..." A frightening spark of curiosity ignited in his blooded stare, one of morbid inquisitiveness.

"How did it feel, Artisan? You are normally a docile young man... Reckless, if anything. But what... What /drove/ you past this edge of sanity? I do not need to know details of your past no, but... You were past the point of pleading your friend here with a no. By the damages sustained by Paxxton-Jay here it seems as though you did not restrain yourself, correct? And now look at you. You are not acting frightened of me... How interesting." Alistair nodded to himself as he leaned back to a pin straight position. "And because of that, I have not the slightest idea as to what to do with you."

[ARTISAN KIM]

“Young man?” he asked, his voice hushed in awe, “As in...a real human?” The unintended compliment fully earned Artie's attention, and now the chimera was more open to talking. In awkward attempt to behave 'normally', Artie copied Alistair and leaned forward as well. The new glass of water pleased Artie as well, as did most edible offerings, and he visibly relaxed. “How did it feel?” he repeated, “It felt...it felt good.”

His head snapped at the water in a vicious, whiplash of movement. But he froze, his trembling lips hovering above the glass rim in a tender exhibition of restraint. A broken whimper bubbled deep within his throat. He wanted it. He wanted it so bad. He wanted the drink bad enough that his body shook from the painful, painstaking effort it took to pull away. While the gesture didn't seem like much, it was Artie's way of being polite. Ignoring conversation for food and drink was rude; Lilly had taught him that.

“I'm designed to be destructive, but I don't like hurting people.” he said, moving his gaze from the water to Alistair, “Even if it felt good to fight PJ on the outside, my insides were sad afterward. That's why I only play rough with Teddy, though I cry if I break him too.” The chimera's chemical composition gave him a powerful set of instincts, ones that could take over his mind and body. But, his good heart kept him from caving into those desires. How many times a day did he think about hunting? Fighting? Surrendering to the monstrous instincts poisoning his mind?

“I was upset...I was upset because I can't control myself too good,” he blurted. Thirsty eyes settled on the water glass, and his chin hit the desk with a light thud. “Even now, I can't control myself,” he said, his voice pained, “I want that water. I want it so bad. But if I drink it, I'll be rude. And I don't want to be rude. It's just like how I couldn't help it around PJ. I can't help it!” With his head lying on the desk, Artie gazed at Alistair with an embarrassed expression. Even the chimera's cheeks colored when he explained the lack of control he had.

Instead of dwelling on his own shortcomings, Artie addressed the Ringmaster's commentary. “There's nothing to be afraid of,” said Artie, “You smell more lonely than afraid, and more scared than bad.” The fire illuminating the room cast soft shadows across Artie's face as he inched closer to Alistair. The boy's voice hushed and whispered, like the rustling of forest leaves. “There's a bad man inside you, isn't there?”

[/size]