Jonas
02-20-13, 09:20 PM
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Currently covered in dirt and grime in the middle of the forest, Jonas began to realize what a terrible plan this was. He used the word ‘plan’ loosely in this case, because really all that happened was he ran away from home if Scara Brae in a moment of pure embarrassment. Jonas hadn’t really thought the whole thing through, but he did know that going back wasn’t an option. His pride had taken too much damage and besides, he was already starting to get used to lack of rotten fish odor in the air.
“Let’s stop here for the night. Should still make our schedule.†A jolly voice echoed through the trees followed by the sound of wood and metal slowly grinding to a halt. Jonas followed the sound to a clearing where positioned on the side of a dirt road were nearly a dozen elaborately painted gypsy wagons. A few were brightly painted with images of exotic animals while another featured a flamboyantly dressed man with the most amazing mustache Jonas had ever seen in his life. It was the kind of mustache that probably had a name of its own.
“Ya’ll some kind of artist commune.†Jonas grumbled, stepping out from behind a tree, his shoulders slumped forward as he examined the man in front of him. Was that supposed to be the same guy so fabulously painted on the side of the caravan? Wow, how depressing. For starters he was about a foot shorter and wider than the illustration and probably a good decade older. Even his mustache was lack luster in comparison. Artists were the worst. It’s like, get a real job already.
“Well you could say that. You’re looking at the great Mysteriouso’s traveling circus, but you can call me Ted. With that odd haircut and those piercings and tattoos riddled over your body you must share our love of theatrics.†The plump man hooked his thumbs around his belt and grinned but Jonas just ignored the backhanded comment and continued looking over eyesore of a circus. Still it would be faster than going on foot and he was already starving.
“Reckon’ I could catch a lift to the next town?â€
“Well…â€
“I ain’t gonna murder ya’ll in your sleep, if that’s what you’re thinkin’. The time is would take to get rid of these hideous wagons and the rest of the evidence just ain’t worth the trouble.â€
“You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you. Hmm, we are shorthanded after the incident with the rubber chicken and the cannon last week so if you can make yourself useful you’re more than welcome to stay. We should be in the next city by the end of the week. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to someone about why we don’t use anatomically correct chickens in our act. Go talk to Leo before you get settled.†Ted nodded his head towards the first wagon before waddling off towards the last. Jonas wasn’t sure how he felt working for a bunch of freeloading artists but how bad could it be. It was just some low budget circus after all.
Currently covered in dirt and grime in the middle of the forest, Jonas began to realize what a terrible plan this was. He used the word ‘plan’ loosely in this case, because really all that happened was he ran away from home if Scara Brae in a moment of pure embarrassment. Jonas hadn’t really thought the whole thing through, but he did know that going back wasn’t an option. His pride had taken too much damage and besides, he was already starting to get used to lack of rotten fish odor in the air.
“Let’s stop here for the night. Should still make our schedule.†A jolly voice echoed through the trees followed by the sound of wood and metal slowly grinding to a halt. Jonas followed the sound to a clearing where positioned on the side of a dirt road were nearly a dozen elaborately painted gypsy wagons. A few were brightly painted with images of exotic animals while another featured a flamboyantly dressed man with the most amazing mustache Jonas had ever seen in his life. It was the kind of mustache that probably had a name of its own.
“Ya’ll some kind of artist commune.†Jonas grumbled, stepping out from behind a tree, his shoulders slumped forward as he examined the man in front of him. Was that supposed to be the same guy so fabulously painted on the side of the caravan? Wow, how depressing. For starters he was about a foot shorter and wider than the illustration and probably a good decade older. Even his mustache was lack luster in comparison. Artists were the worst. It’s like, get a real job already.
“Well you could say that. You’re looking at the great Mysteriouso’s traveling circus, but you can call me Ted. With that odd haircut and those piercings and tattoos riddled over your body you must share our love of theatrics.†The plump man hooked his thumbs around his belt and grinned but Jonas just ignored the backhanded comment and continued looking over eyesore of a circus. Still it would be faster than going on foot and he was already starving.
“Reckon’ I could catch a lift to the next town?â€
“Well…â€
“I ain’t gonna murder ya’ll in your sleep, if that’s what you’re thinkin’. The time is would take to get rid of these hideous wagons and the rest of the evidence just ain’t worth the trouble.â€
“You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you. Hmm, we are shorthanded after the incident with the rubber chicken and the cannon last week so if you can make yourself useful you’re more than welcome to stay. We should be in the next city by the end of the week. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to someone about why we don’t use anatomically correct chickens in our act. Go talk to Leo before you get settled.†Ted nodded his head towards the first wagon before waddling off towards the last. Jonas wasn’t sure how he felt working for a bunch of freeloading artists but how bad could it be. It was just some low budget circus after all.