3nanashi | (no subject)

Entry tags:

circus

(no subject)

It's late afternoon. The first show is at 6:00 -- 1800, Trowa still thinks of it really, but the translation is easy -- and most of the circus is making early dinners or otherwise enjoying the downtime before they have to get ready.

Trowa opens the door from Milliways into the trailer he shares with Cathy, and lets X follow him through.

It's a narrow room, combining kitchen and common room in a compact and tidy package, with doors to Trowa's room, Cathy's, and the bathroom. (And, behind them, to the outside.) It's all lived-in, in an impeccably tidy way.

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Nope, that went fine.

Trowa communicates this by making no expression whatsoever. (Okay, Trowa communicates this by returning the glance with placid impassivity, and no more tension than he had a minute ago.)

"I'll show you where to pick them up."

Meanwhile: shall they continue?

"Okay," X says, nodding once.

And then she continues in the same direction they were going before Lawan showed up.

There's not a lot of breeze today -- like most weather in the colonies, this is determined mostly by prearrangement -- but all the same, she may catch a whiff of big cat coming from the tent up ahead.

X could hardly miss it.

Breeze or not, scent travels.

She flicks a quick look in the direction of said tent, then looks back at Trowa.

That is where they are going?

Trowa nods fractionally.

Unless she doesn't want to, of course.

X offers a minute shrug in response.

And, of course, adjusts her angle of approach accordingly.

Someone here is an easy sell.

Well. They're lions.

Trowa's attitude there might not be universally shared, of course.

He leads the way into the tent. It's medium-sized but sturdy, the kind that's more a canvas-sided building than anything. It contains three cages -- all on wheels, but braced securely into place right now -- and a fourth that's much larger and flat to the ground. There are doors at either end of the cages, all latched, and another opening across the tent. (It leads to the large practice and exercise enclosure.)

Three of the cages contain adult lions -- two male, one female. The fourth and largest cage is currently empty except for straw and some rather battered toys and a sort of mock-cave shelter, but it held all three lions not all that long ago.

X flicks a quizzical glance from the largest cage to the small ones, then over to Trowa.

It's the kind of look that serves as a polite request for an explanation.

Lion-keeping is outside her usual performance parameters.

Or it has been thus far, anyway.

"For transport backstage. It's easier to do it separately, and they have different entrances and exits."

"Most of the time they're there." The big cage. "Or out in the enclosure."

It's not particularly unusual for Trowa to come hang out with the lions pre-show, though he doesn't do it every day. So they don't seem particularly roused by his arrival, though they're certainly paying attention to him and X.

(The older male is doing so somewhat drowsily, and without standing up. He was just napping, and he hasn't bothered to do more than lift his head from his paws.)

X tilts her head very slightly, studying Trowa this time.

Just for a second.

"They do not fight?"

Trowa shakes his head fractionally. "Lions are social. Not like most big cats. They argue a little, but they mostly get along."

X blinks.

Twice.

"But they do not talk."

Sometimes confirmation is nice to have.

Just in case.

Trowa shakes his head.

"Not like humans."

They communicate fine.

X considers this.

Carefully.

"You talk to them?"

Trowa shrugs.

"Sometimes."

"The words don't matter. But they listen to tone of voice."

You are sure you are not a mutant?, X asked him once, and Trowa remembers her perspective on this. But as far as he's concerned, this is just a matter of knowing how to listen, and how to see, and how to monitor your own movements. If you understand how an animal thinks, you'll know how to make yourself understood; it's the same as humans, except that animals don't lie.

X takes a few steps forward, attention seemingly fixed on the lions.

She's not hesitant.

"Quiet is better?"

Quiet and firm, that is.

X does not do wishy-washy.

(She was not built for it.)

"Calm is better. Quiet helps too."

Not that he's really worried about X getting panicky and loud.

If he was, he wouldn't have brought her here anyway.

He takes a few steps forward too, movements steady and deliberate, and in her peripheral vision. (It's habitual courtesy; it's also giving her room to move in case she needs it. Though in a way, that's habitual courtesy too.)

"Hi," he says to the lions. "I'm back for a bit."

X watches the way the lions respond to Trowa, measuring it as best she can.

Then she moves, too, keeping a step or so back from him.

And, because it is polite (right?) --

"Hello."

She does not wave. And she keeps part of her attention fixed firmly on Trowa.

It is only sensible.

Trowa opts for the older of the males. He's the most easygoing, and the most open to meeting new people -- he was the first Trowa greeted, years ago, when he was still in his prime -- and besides that, he's in a drowsy friendly mood.

He reaches through the bars, offering his hand. The lion studies them both, and then pushes to his feet with a rumbling sigh. He pads over the couple of steps the cage allows, and shoves his great heavy-maned head into Trowa's palm to have his ears scratched.

He's still keeping an eye on X, but he lets his eyes half-close in pleasure anyway.

(His name is Reggie, for the record. But it's not a name that means anything to the lion, so Trowa only uses it when other humans want a label.)

X slips closer by inches, though she does not reach out to touch.

Her breath remains perfectly even, and her scent entirely fails to change.

She is also careful, however, not to make too much eye contact. Or stare.

It is only polite.

Trowa's assessment of X as sensible keeps being confirmed.

Reggie blinks slowly at X, and butts his head a little more firmly into Trowa's hand. (A lion can headbutt pretty firmly, even being friendly, but Trowa's used to this.)

X does not laugh, but something in her face brightens -- just a little.

And a few moments later she flicks a quick sideways look at Trowa.

It's a questioning sort of look.

Is this particular lion inclined to bite her hand off?

(Not that this really matters to X, but it would likely be unpleasant for some people, and explaining why she's missing a limb would be -- problematic. For Trowa. As regeneration on that scale is not a fast-paced process. Comparatively.)

Trowa regards her back for a moment, considering. (Considering Reggie, more than X. His mood matters a lot more.)

And then nods slightly in invitation.

X, as stated, is sensible.

He leaves his hand on Reggie's head, of course.

X's approach is deliberate, as is the movement of her hand as she reaches out to brush against Reggie --

Near to Trowa's hand, of course.

It seems safest.

And once that is done she steps back, smooth and neat.

And, perhaps, smiling a very little.

Not that Reggie or Trowa are likely to tell anyone.

Reggie snorts a little at the touch, but puts up with it placidly enough.

X seems like a pretty tolerable human, even if she does smell kind of weird. And his ears are still getting scratched.

Trowa glances at X sidelong, and for a brief moment he might be smiling very faintly too.

It's another minute or so before he says, "I'll need to get ready soon."