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- Dec 28, 2015
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Diva stuck her lower lip out at the little boy in a faux pout, and scampered to retrieve the lit cigarra from the dirt. After dusting it off she nursed it back to health with a few tender puffs, and tossed her young campanion some serious shade for having droped it. She couldn't stay mad for long though with that look of wonder staring back at her. Her heart had been all but dead an hour ago, and this little pink miracle had single handedly restored it's will to live. She nearly started to cry again as the joy of performance was felt earnestly for the first time in over a year.
"How do you even do that with your body?"
A question she had heard a million times before, and in a million different ways, but none had been genuine and innocent for quite some time. She twirled a bit and strutted about the space as she answered, expertly milking the childs awe and delight for all it was worth.
Oh....I don't really know anymore...
She did. She knew quite a bit about physiology actually, and how her muscles worked.
I've honestly been doing gymnastics since before I could walk....
True, but her coyness was greatly exagerated. Quietly rolling her eyes at her own antics, Dive threw the kid a bone.
Practice, really. You can do anything you want Dyson. Just do it everyday, as best you can that day, and before you know it you'll be doing it. Then, if you don't stop...you become the best. "You celebrate your failure, and occasional success, and if you can fail everyday, you soon will be the best!"
Diva, threw him a wink and punctuated the little lymric it with a hop and twirled on her fat left toes, and a thick clumsy smoke ring from out of her nose. She hadn't really gotten good at that trick...yet.
That's a circus secret Dyson, don't ever lose it....
It was and wasn't. Somethingshe had been taught since she a baby, but also something they freely told younger children than he as a magical "secret". Still, Diva gave Dyson every bit of Gravitas it deserved, and let her bright orange eyes burn it home. A piece of her regreated it soon after, however, as Dyson asked her to go home with him. She knew his intentions were pure, it wasn't that, and the promise of more handouts, and a night in a senator's apartment called to her with a power he could never understand he weilded; and he could never understand the horrible knot it twisted in Diva's gut. Handouts...that is what it would be wouldn't it. Her voice grew small, and she sighed.
No Dyson, I can't. Literally...
Diva slowly lowered her dressing gown. Once it had reached her left elbow, she grabbed the quarter length sleeve of her leotard and yanked it up with disdain. There, secured tightly to her bicep, was a thin metal ring, with a soft blinking light. By the skin around the edge, it was clear the thing was grafted in place. After a moment had passed, she hastily covered it back up, barely able to look at it herself. She realized she hadn't breathed during the whole moment it had been exposed, and began to cough a little; a reaction that was oddly subdued by the cigarra of all things. It dawned on her that that was the first time she had ever shown anyone her collar willingly. Scratch, that. There was once a time when she was foolish enough to think it almost pretty, and believed her step-father when he told her it was a "special gift" only for circus folk. This was the first time she chose to show it, and recognized the shame. Shame. Something Diva had in spades these days. In that instant, starring at that eager, wide-eyed pink creature before her, something snapped. Diva was a born and bred freak. A consumer of life and art, skills an knowlegde. Challenging tasks had faced her countless times, in fact, she sought them ought! And Diva Tumi mastered them. Diva had no use for shame, she would cut it from her life if it was the last thing she did; and when Diva Tumi set a target, she never missed.
Listen, Dyson.... Her voice was strong, proud, matronly even. I have to go in now.. I do. They will be looking for me... but promise me something first. If, you promise to get away from that kryfing asshole mom of yours, then I.....
Diva had to pause, she was about to set target for herself that she could not see, nor hear, nor even imagine; but she had to try.
...Then I will get away from here, and the next time I see you, I'll give you your mom's money back, and it will be yours. Promise me you little weirdo....PROMISE!
She realized she was gripping him a little to tightly by the shoudlers, and may have gotten a little intense again. Now that she had said those words out loud, she needed him to promise, to confirm that any of it was possible. If Diva was to go on, she needed to steal one last little bit of this childs boundless optimism. Just one last sign of hope...
"How do you even do that with your body?"
A question she had heard a million times before, and in a million different ways, but none had been genuine and innocent for quite some time. She twirled a bit and strutted about the space as she answered, expertly milking the childs awe and delight for all it was worth.
Oh....I don't really know anymore...
She did. She knew quite a bit about physiology actually, and how her muscles worked.
I've honestly been doing gymnastics since before I could walk....
True, but her coyness was greatly exagerated. Quietly rolling her eyes at her own antics, Dive threw the kid a bone.
Practice, really. You can do anything you want Dyson. Just do it everyday, as best you can that day, and before you know it you'll be doing it. Then, if you don't stop...you become the best. "You celebrate your failure, and occasional success, and if you can fail everyday, you soon will be the best!"
Diva, threw him a wink and punctuated the little lymric it with a hop and twirled on her fat left toes, and a thick clumsy smoke ring from out of her nose. She hadn't really gotten good at that trick...yet.
That's a circus secret Dyson, don't ever lose it....
It was and wasn't. Somethingshe had been taught since she a baby, but also something they freely told younger children than he as a magical "secret". Still, Diva gave Dyson every bit of Gravitas it deserved, and let her bright orange eyes burn it home. A piece of her regreated it soon after, however, as Dyson asked her to go home with him. She knew his intentions were pure, it wasn't that, and the promise of more handouts, and a night in a senator's apartment called to her with a power he could never understand he weilded; and he could never understand the horrible knot it twisted in Diva's gut. Handouts...that is what it would be wouldn't it. Her voice grew small, and she sighed.
No Dyson, I can't. Literally...
Diva slowly lowered her dressing gown. Once it had reached her left elbow, she grabbed the quarter length sleeve of her leotard and yanked it up with disdain. There, secured tightly to her bicep, was a thin metal ring, with a soft blinking light. By the skin around the edge, it was clear the thing was grafted in place. After a moment had passed, she hastily covered it back up, barely able to look at it herself. She realized she hadn't breathed during the whole moment it had been exposed, and began to cough a little; a reaction that was oddly subdued by the cigarra of all things. It dawned on her that that was the first time she had ever shown anyone her collar willingly. Scratch, that. There was once a time when she was foolish enough to think it almost pretty, and believed her step-father when he told her it was a "special gift" only for circus folk. This was the first time she chose to show it, and recognized the shame. Shame. Something Diva had in spades these days. In that instant, starring at that eager, wide-eyed pink creature before her, something snapped. Diva was a born and bred freak. A consumer of life and art, skills an knowlegde. Challenging tasks had faced her countless times, in fact, she sought them ought! And Diva Tumi mastered them. Diva had no use for shame, she would cut it from her life if it was the last thing she did; and when Diva Tumi set a target, she never missed.
Listen, Dyson.... Her voice was strong, proud, matronly even. I have to go in now.. I do. They will be looking for me... but promise me something first. If, you promise to get away from that kryfing asshole mom of yours, then I.....
Diva had to pause, she was about to set target for herself that she could not see, nor hear, nor even imagine; but she had to try.
...Then I will get away from here, and the next time I see you, I'll give you your mom's money back, and it will be yours. Promise me you little weirdo....PROMISE!
She realized she was gripping him a little to tightly by the shoudlers, and may have gotten a little intense again. Now that she had said those words out loud, she needed him to promise, to confirm that any of it was possible. If Diva was to go on, she needed to steal one last little bit of this childs boundless optimism. Just one last sign of hope...