Futuristic a circus of crime

[Cosimia]

 

[Cosimia]

yasmin al-shahiri
location: the middle of nowhere
date unknown
​

yasmin was sick of seeing bored faces.
from the moment that she was held in her mother's arms as a child, she watched as everybody looked at the world with a kind of emptiness that could only be created in one way: worldwide devastation. with every broken-down diner, every crumbled hospital, and every show that she played, yasmin could never escape the disinterest that was thrown upon her wherever she went. her optimistic mind couldn't handle it- the thought of somebody being so dissatisfied with the world where there is plenty to love was simply baffling to yasmin.
and so she set out to cure the boredom: with music.

she found the opportunity with trevor's traveling circus, which boasted a solution to the apathy the world suffered from.
for years she had honed her ability to please people: through words, through actions, but most of all through the art of song. upon discovering the circus, yasmin knew that this would be how she would leave a mark on the world. and so the gang traveled across the country, filling every shabby city they came across with their antics.

-

applause filled the red-and-white tent that yasmin had found herself after she finished playing the only sonata she knew on the violin. in the petite girl's mind, she heard the roar of a crowd echoing throughout the faded tent. in reality, however, it was no more than two or three people with the same apathetic expression on their face, their hands moving in slow motion. yasmin sighed, took a bow, and walked out of the tent's door flaps to meet the open world, just as the next act walked in. her eyes searched the sky for any sign of clouds or rain, which would mean the circus would have to move on.

she hated performance days.

yasmin sauntered over to the railroad tracks nearby, violin sweating still from condensation inside the circus tent. boxcars upon boxcars connected to one small steam engine at the front were lined up on the metal tracks, one for each of the circus members. she passed the only one in good condition-the ringleader's car-quickest, trying to avoid looking inside. the ringleader was an evasive man, and eavesdropping could be punished by exile from the circus. yasmin could see a heated conversation was occuring inside the car, so her feet kicked up dust as she walked towards her own boxcar.

towards the back of the train, there was the only boxcar with its doors open. other members of the circus kept their private life private, however, yasmin was the mother figure of all of her coworkers. she felt the need to compensate for her peers' lack of advisers, therefore becoming one. the door always stayed open, regardless if the train was moving or not, to welcome in anybody who wanted to visit. yasmin jumped from the ground to the creaky wood floor of her boxcar, and set the violin down on the only makeshift table she could muster up. she wiped her forehead with the edge of the ragged cloth she wore, and sunk down to the floor in exhaustion.

this is how she spent the majority of her days-waiting for something to happen. she was never an instigator, for she never really learned how to properly build a relationship with somebody. somebody other than savio. the two had barely known each other for a month, but she held a sense of confidence around him. most evenings after her performance, she waited for him to finish his eccentric duties and join her in the car, where they would share the events of the day in an intimate conversation.

yasmin glanced out the boxcar door to the sky; the sun was setting on the horizon and the people inside the tent were slowly making their way back to their homes. savio would be coming soon. waiting for him to join her, yasmin closed her heavy eyes and drifted off to dream.

snowstormspawn

 

[snowstormspawn]

Before the world as they knew it was lost, much of Savio’s family had worked as psychics, reading palms and looking into the future. There was an ominous feeling about what was to come, though they would not have expected for things to become as dire as they did. They lived among lush forests and golden fields of grain, so when the Earth was ravaged they would be provided for. As long as there was rain and sun, they could continue to exist, though it was not a happy existence. Their happiness was extinguished like a dampened flame, and the colors of the world had faded to dreary shades of grey.

Savio had grown up promised nothing- no happiness, no hope, not even life. There was no reason to dream about his future, because he could not imagine himself there. It all changed when he was a young boy, and a traveling circus rolled into town on the rusty railroad tracks cutting through the fields. Savio snuck out of his home to watch the performances, and from that moment on he began to dream. He dusted off the books his family had kept for all these years, and thoroughly studied every page, eagerly awaiting for the circus to pass by again. And when it did return two decades later, he climbed aboard and did not look back.

~

A bony hand grasped Savio’s shoulder and shook it. He had been daydreaming again.
“Are you going out there?” The woman standing next to him in a sequined leotard asked in a hushed whisper. Savio peaked behind the curtain and looked over the ‘crowd,’ consisting of no more than three people at this point, not enough for him to be able to do anything remotely entertaining. He pursed his lips and shook his head. The woman smiled. “That’s fine I suppose. Day’s almost over anyway.” The woman reached out a spindly arm to pull the curtain aside so that she could step out.
“Good luck Jaya,” Savio whispered. Jaya looked over her shoulder and smiled at him before disappearing behind the curtain.

Savio sighed and looked around the backstage area. “What do I do now,” he breathed. The slim man walked over to the table where some props were kept and his tuxedo jacket was draped over the back of a poorly crafted wooden chair. Savio examined the worn and faded fabric, and was almost glad that he had been spared a performance today. Besides looking as if it was about to fall apart, the jacket was covered in scattered hair from the cat that he shared his train car with. Savio was going to have to figure out a way to get it off. Wire brushing seemed to help, as did wrapping all his clothing up when it was not in use. Savio couldn’t get rid of the cat. It was better than sharing his living space with rats and the things they carried.

He strolled back towards his train car, the fourth one from the very front, to be exact. The doors were always tightly shut, and the windows covered with curtains so no curious passerby could see inside. Savio pulled the chain that held his key out of his shirt and slipped it over his head before turning the key in the padlock and forcefully pushing the door open. The hinge hadn’t been oiled in a while, and it took quite a bit of strength to make the heavy doors move. In the darkness, two yellow-green eyes gleamed at him before disappearing into the shadows. There was a creak as Savio opened up the door to his wooden wardrobe to pull out a hanger and place his tuxedo jacket on it. Then another creak as he pushed the door closed again.

He didn’t feel like changing out of his white button-up shirt and dark pants, and his hair was still slicked back in preparation for the performance he hadn't given. He knew Yasmin’s performance had to be over now- he had heard it, and as usual it was beautiful and he wished more people had heard it. It was difficult for Savio not to clap for his friend, because he was not supposed to be heard or seen by the audience unless he was performing. He knew the doors to Yasmin’s train car were always open, so he locked up his and made his way towards the back of the train. Once he reached her car he knocked three times on the outside wall. It had become a form of signal between them to let the other know who was swinging by.
​

Cosimia

​

 

[Cosimia]

yasmin al-shahiri
location: yasmin's boxcar
date unknown​

yasmin's eyes had closed in a heavy slumber for some time now, while other circus performers took their turn on the makeshift stage outside. she'd become accustomed to blocking out all of the outside noise of her world, especially the sound of the train's steel wheels striking across the rusty railroad. her mind drifted to a place of peace- to her standards, of course- and gracefully demonstrated so by slobbering all over herself in the boxcar.

her beauty sleep, as yasmin called it, was interrupted as three sharp knocks shook the car on its wheels, sending her limbs flying in all directions. frantically, she opened her eyes to reveal a curtain of black curly hair, which would be soon swept away to open the view of her one and only confidante in her travels- savio bonaccorso. instantly, her drool-covered mouth turned up into a welcoming smile as she rose to her bare feet, embracing the tall man in a hug for a moment. motioning for him to take a seat on the boxcar floor, she opened the door to the habitat wider to let the two take in the view of the sunset.

"you look like you've got something to say," yasmin began, trying to articulate her words as best as she could. as the daughter of two iranian parents, the accent she spoke with was heavy and barely comprehensible- hence the reason she was a musician and not a comedian.

"..i can tell in your eyes that you've been thinking about something. it better not have to do with those other girls you test your abilities on," she joked, laying her head on his shoulder with her head focused on the sunset in the horizon.

"nevertheless, let's hear it. who is it this time?" yasmin attempted to lighten the frazzled look on savio's face, poking at his hollow cheeks.

snowstormspawn

​

 

[snowstormspawn]

Savio’s serious expression melted away as a slow smile spread across his face. He was glad to see that as usual his friend wasn’t upset with him for waking her up. He returned Yasmin’s embrace and sat down on the floor of the boxcar beside her, folding his hands in his lap and looking up at the late afternoon sky. He looked over at Yasmin when she began to speak, his bright eyes full of curiosity.

He laughed a little at her joke, and turned to look at the sky again as she laid her head on his shoulder. She really was one of his closest friends- even though they had only recently come into each other’s lives, it felt to Savio as if he had known her forever. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows and buttoned them so they would stay there, careful not to move his arm too much.

Yazmin was a very caring person, so Savio could never sneak anything past her. It was good for him to have someone to talk to, because otherwise all his thoughts would just clog up his mind. “Where do I begin…” He spoke with an accent as well; after the world ‘ended’, his family had reverted back to speaking mostly their native language. Savio figured that complaining about the cat hair on his clothing could wait.

“I worry about Jaya,” he admitted. Jaya wouldn’t be able to hear him as she was dancing, but someone else might, so Savio kept his voice down. “She’s been… different.” It had all clicked for him when he felt her hand on his shoulder and really looked at her. He knew that the circus’ resources were low, and he was suspecting that Jaya was eating less for everyone else’s sake. Savio looked down at his hands. “I don’t want to say something that could offend her...” He sighed. “Maybe I’m the only one who sees.”

Cosimia​

 

[Cosimia]

yasmin al-shahiri
location: yasmin's boxcar
date unknown
​

yasmin's black eyes floated to savio's hands as he explained his worries, nodding her head in agreement. she couldn't help but zone out for a moment to get caught up in the situation, as if the fact that jaya's weight was dangerously low had sparked a storm in her head. had yasmin been eating enough herself? she looked down at her waist, hidden by a stained white cropped shirt, wondering if she was in the same situation. gazing back up at her friend, she noticed that savio's cheeks were a little less full than usual. yasmin wasn't one for details, but she couldn't help but confront the issue at hand once it was in front of her.

"now that you have me thinking about it," yasmin said, biting her lip in thought. "everybody seems a little bit more malnourished than usual." she pressed her head back down into savio's firm shoulder as the sun continued to set on the horizon. "you're not the only one to see. just look in the mirror," yasmin said, gesturing wildly to the sky as if the pair could afford such a luxury, "you're so much skinnier than usual. and that's saying something, beanpole." yasmin tried to joke, but the concerned expressed remained on both of their faces.

talking to fill up the empty air, yasmin tried to come up with every fathomable reason for the lack of resources for the traveling circus. "maybe we've just been running through some empty cities right now. maybe somebody has just gotten to the supplies before us, y'know, other people have to survive too. or maybe bandits have been ahead of us. that could be why we get such a low turnout.." yasmin pondered to her partner.

"what can we do about it? what do you know? we could start from there," yasmin said, trying to get on top of things.

snowstormspawn

 

[snowstormspawn]

Savio looked at his wrist, and when he really looked, he noticed that Yasmin was right. He was affected by the shortage of food as well. His expression turned to one of thought as he considered her words. It could be true, that bandits were ahead of them. He wouldn't know- he never spoke to the locals and they usually kept to themselves, anyway. Though they had seemed a bit more hopeless than they had when Savio first joined the circus. The turnout to their performances had been extremely low lately. “If it is bandits, these people need us the most,” Savio mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand on the side Yasmin wasn’t leaning on before placing his palm flat down on the train car’s floor.

He tried to think of a solution to help him and his new-found friends. The only way he knew to come up with food was to grow it, and without fertile soil that was impossible. Savio frowned as he thought. “I would say, change course,” he suggested. He bit his lip and thought again. “But that's not my choice to make,” he added with an exasperated laugh. He didn't want to push his luck with the conductor, even though he seemed to like him after having done what seemed like an evaluation of his character.

Savio dangled his feet back and forth above the dusty ground, staring into the distance at the darkening sky. “Maybe one of us should talk to him,” he suggested with a shrug. Savio wasn't sure whether the conductor was in at the moment. He could be wrapping up the show or wandering around the town. Savio thought it was a strange habit. It couldn't be very safe. He had the sneaking suspicion that the conductor was hiding something.