Act: Weapons MasterPlace of Hierarchy:
Elizabeth's talentHair Color:
White blondeEye Color:
Tall and extremely slender. She is very pale looking as if the sun had never touched her skin. There are faint scars on her hands and forearms though they are only visible if one looks closely. Personality:
Erin is cocky and confident. She is prickly using wit, sass, and sarcasm to keep people at arms length. She is friendly enough and willing to talk to anyone though there is a sense of danger she always carries with her. It is clear she only lets people close to her that she likes. She is fearless and it shows in the way she talks to people, how she conducts herself and her act where she risks her life on a regular basis. She exploits her innocent looks to hide the hard edged girl under a soft look and sweet smile. She is intense especially when preforming, but she carries a hint of that every moment of her life. When you gamble your life constantly every moment counts.Brief History:
Erin was born in vegas, a child born of love and desire between two fetish performers who were dedicated lovers. Erin was unfortunate in the fact that she never got to know her mother a sensual soft exotic woman with more self confidence then anyone else. Her father loved her mother dearly and when she died a week after Erin's birth it changed him. He was lost after that. It was hard to believe such an overtly dominate male could have depended so much on the ethereal pale beauty that was Erin's mother but he did.
Erin's father had no idea to be a dad in and many ways had no desire to be without his wife at his side. He did his best by Erin but often his best was dragging her along to his performances where he hung his body from hooks for the exhilaration and excitement of himself and others. Erin was exposed to sex and lust, desire and passion from a indecently young age and it made her grow up fast.
She was back stage bored as young girls of 5 often is. Her father was swinging from the ceiling and a woman dressed in fishnets and a corset who was supposed to be watching her was missing the sound of harsh breathing from the dressing room the only clue that the young girl wasn't alone. She had no dolls or toys to distract her from wondering around picking up things at random. As a fetish show often had Erin found toys in a chest. Most of them held no interest to her a young girl had no interest in paddles of cuffs, vibrators or clamps.
The one thing that did interest her was a long coiled length of leather. With small chubby hands she pulled it out and flicked it around her short slender legs just about tripping herself with it. A man walked by. He wore nothing but a pair of low slung jeans and a dark brooding look. It was he who taught her how to wield the whip replacing her fishnet clad babysitter while her father preformed.
She took to the discipline of the art as a fish would to water. From there her interest only grew. She learned knives and swords, stars a bow and arrow even a gun though she cared for it not. She loved working with weapons. She felt strong and independent able to use weapons as she did. She grew close to Ben her whip instructor and her father who'd finally managed to take an interest in her was jealous and worried over her.
At sixteen he enrolled her in school thinking that a normal environment would help normalize the girl who knew too much, had seen too much and was far too cocky for her own good. School didn't help it only made the girl bitter. Being called a freak will do that to you. Erin was criticized for everything from her hair and clothing not of the main stream style to her hobbies that were seen as scary and dangerous. She was already a snarky, rude sarcastic school, the weapons skills now made her a bad kid in the eyes of authority figures too.
At seventeen Erin quiet school and unable to stand her fathers overprotective and pushy nature took off from home too. Living in Vegas had it's perks. She started street preforming on the street wielding swords most of the time since often her skills with a whip were seen as more sexual then she wanted to appear. She was still a freak here but one others were drawn to. Little kids looked at her with awe and adults with a mixture of envy and distaste. It was comfortable.
Elizabeth found her there juggling swords tossing them high into the air doing flips before catching them before they could impale her making the crowd gasp in amazement and wonder as the frail blond girl did things many thought of as skills belonging to big burly men. Introduction Post:
It’d been the farthest west that the troupe had went in quite some many years. Many more years than Elizabeth and Lawrence had been with the circus. They had done it for the Family, with everything that had gone on in recent history she figured that they deserved one last night in the sin of the modern world. She knew that after this they would only see cities that more resembled the 70s then the modern world. Elizabeth had decided not to join the rest of the family, she didn’t care to see how they enjoyed the city that never slept. She herself had simply taken to one of the areas that had far less tourist then the main strip. Honestly, she was only even there because the area had quite a…tasteful sense of fashion. More or less, she was going to the sex shops that seemed to cater to fetishist. They had the best outfits.
She hadn’t actually seen the girl. She only saw the swords flying high into the air. She realized that either someone was being very creative in their suicide attempt with playing catch with swords, or there was a possible prospect. Juggling sharp objects really wasn’t anything special enough to catch her attention…But it was the rate and height that they went up with, whoever it was was a natural. Elizabeth made her way through the crowd. She stopped just at the circles edge. It was amusing how far away people stood from the juggling swords. Anyone in her line of work knew that the girl wouldn’t attempt something this deadly if they were not a master. So she broke the invisible barrier and walked towards the girl. She didn’t stop until she was close enough that one slip up could leave Elizabeth impaled…She felt a twinge of fear, and it excited her. Give her an inferno and she was safe, give her something out of her comfort zone and even she felt fear.
“You’re working for spare change and casino chips to a group of people that look at you as a freak.” Her words came with an appreciative smile. It wasn’t too long ago that Elizabeth was doing the same thing. She still had a few flyers in her bag that she hadn’t passed out, so she took one out and laid it in front of the girl. It was a flyer for the circus, with the address plainly printed. “The circus is over. But come visit me tonight, and I will give you a chance to be looked at as a marvel instead of a freak.” Elizabeth said nothing more. Her parting gesture was a hundred dollar bill left in the case that Erin used to carry her swords.
It was her normal show. Nothing too hard to accomplish. These people so hopped up on the vibrancy of the city were easy to impress. Even so near the middle of her show she started showing off. It was out of boredom more then anything. The people gasped and a few even lifted there hands over there heads as if afraid the swords would fall on them. Erin rolled her eyes not that anyone noticed. Morons.
It was then that someone walked up to her breaching that invisible barrier between her and the crowd of people around her. Erin gave her a distant quizzical look her head tilting just a touch. As she drew closer, close enough Erin could kill her with a wrong move, a single slip of her hand Erin smiled. The woman impressed her already.
Her words were met with nothing more the a slow blink and a dead pan look the implied the woman had better make her point and make it fast. She tossed the slender rapier high into the air so the blade caught the flashing lights of the shop signs and took the flier looking at it briefly before shoving it in her pocket with a nod. She stuck out her hand and with perfect precision gripped the hilt and twirled it through her fingertips.
The woman left her a tip larger then anything she's made in the last two weeks and walked away with a kind of confidence that made Erin smirk. They'd either end up friends or at each others throats only time would tell. Erin had nothing tying her to this place besides a father who would be happy with anything she chose. She went to her tiny apartment and changed from her street performer get of of tight clothes to a baggy pair of jeans a tight tank top and a leather jacket her father once owned.
She took her time she didn't want to seem to eager, the woman seemed like the type who'd use anything she could to get what she wanted and for whatever reason she wanted Erin. Erin would be lying if she said she wasn't interested but it wasn't her only option. Locking her door and slinging the multi sword case across her back she caught the bus and went out to meet the mystery woman.
Elizabeth sat in the only remaining tent that was left up. It wasn’t the big tent, instead it was one of the smaller ones used for the new Burlesque show. The chairs all still remained, as did the stage. Elizabeth sat upon the edge of that stage with a bucket beside her. She held a knife in her hand, and her thumb ran up and down the sharp edge of the blade. She had expected the girl to arrive earlier in the evening and was about to call it quits, until she saw the linen doors ruffle and the lovely blonde walk in. “Well well, I was beginning to believe you had no intent on showing up.” Elizabeth dipped the blade into the bucket beside of her before she stepped off of the stage and walked toward Erin. “We do not exactly run ma and pa’s circus here. The name itself, Cirque De Sang Et De Flammes” She spoke the words in perfect French “Circus Of Blood And Fire. What we do is…Just a bit more dangerous then what I imagine you’re used to seeing.” Elizabeth twirled the knife in her fingers, using it as a slide of hand distraction while she lit a match with the other hand and set the blade on fire. “And we have our tricks.” Elizabeth placed the palm of her hand against the sharp edge of the blade. She slid it upwards, putting out the fire as blood began to drip from her hand. Yet there was no scent of burning flesh.
“If you want a home in a place that will appreciate you, then I need to know that you do not just have a knack for juggling. I need to know that you are a natural.” Elizabeth returned to the stage lifted herself onto it. She found her own set of swords. Something that the girl wouldn’t have comfort with, as the weight and balance would be different from her own. There were four all together. She walked to the edge of the stage and sat down. Next she pulled a sponge from the bucket with her unharmed hand, squeezed it, and began to apply it to the swords. Once each and every one had the liquid applied, she set them down and walked away with the bucket. The only thing left on the stage was her match book and a blindfold.
She took a seat in the first row, never looking back to Erin. If she was sane, or not completely confident with her abilities, then she’d likely run. Otherwise the stage was quite clear. “Give me a show that is worthy of your life and I will give you a taste of something that no one in this city of lust and greed has ever dreamt of having.”
Erin half wondered if the woman would even still be about. there was only one tent left standing and Erin looking sure of herself walked without hesitation towards the tent flipping back the tent flap and walking in taking a seat and turning to around straddling it as Elizabeth spoke. She listened to the description looking kind of blank until she said this was probably more dangerous then her normal flair. The Erin smirked her eyes bright with dangerous light.
She watched the woman light the blade on fire and slide it through her hand. If she expected Erin to be surprised she was wrong. The girl was raised in sin city, a place where the impossible seemed almost mundane. She did note though that while the flame didn't harm her skin the blade did a fragile drop of blood sliding down that pale skin of hers that was almost a match for her own coloring.
She moved around and talked more but the words were caught only as a generalization as Erin watched her swab the four blades with the clear flammable liquid she'd used in her own demonstration. A touch of fear made her stomach quiver. She'd never used fire in one of her performances before. She simply had never had a draw towards it but she knew swords, the delicate balance the natural feel of it she could do it, a little heat wouldn't make a bit of difference.
She walked up to the stage leaving her bag in the abandon seat. Shrugging off her jacket she tossed it aside and picked up the blind fold a smirk playing on her lips. She tucked it half hanging out of her pocket before picking up the first sword a short bladed scimitar that would reflect a great deal of light and sparkle under normal circumstances. She held the hilt and circled her wrist testing the weight and balance before moving on to the next three repeating the process with each.
Nodding to herself she wore an expression of intense focus and she stuck the swords tip impaled in the wood in front of her and picked up the matches. With brightness flaring to life in those sapphire eyes of hers she set the blades on fire. She tossed the blown out match away and pulled out the blind fold and covered her eyes leaving her lips slightly parted the only part of her small face visible.
Even with her face covered her hand shot out and gripped the hilt of the first sword a light Épée. It took no effort to yank it out of the stage floor. She brought up her whole arm and flicked her wrist as she released it into the air. It twirled up in a lazy spiral flames dancing off the thin blade. As the first sword soared into the air Erin grabbed the hilt of the curve scimitar. She held it close enough to her body she could feel the heat of the flames brushing her skin as she did a fast twirl the blade following the spin of her body led by the hilt. The flames danced and she again tossed the sword into the air in time to catch the falling Épée.
She caught the sword in her left hand and flipped it twirling it like one might a baton. her lips were drawn into a tight line as she grabbed the heaviest of the swords, a thick broad sword that would fall heavy and was harder to manipulate without practice. Jaw tense as tossed up the Épée again and manipulated the broad sword. The muscles in her arms stood out as she twirled the heavy broad sword in a wide circle.
The Scimitar was falling the blade pointing down looking as if it was going to impale the young pale girl. With a tight jaw Erin flexed and through the broad sword into the air. It went strait up without a twirl and she caught the scimitar as she turned into a spin catching the light Épée next. Wielding both she juggled the two before tossing them both into the air the Épée much higher before catching the heavy broad sword. She pulled the long sword from the stage floor wincing just a touch at the heat of the hilt in her hand.
Taking a deep breath she visualized the swords in the air. Her arms flexed and held the blades out the scimitar hit the long sword the flats coming together with the sound of clashing swords. She smiled then catching the hilt with the broad sword. The weight was off but she moved with a type of sureness the suggested she could do this in her sleep. her arms flexed and she flicked her wrists and juggled the scimitar like a demon stick flipping it up into the air just in time to do it again with the Épée. She moved quicker with the Épée using more flair.
She flipped it high into the air as the Scimitar fell and flipped it right back into the air before using some muscle to flip the long sword into the air followed by the broad sword that she grunted hefting into the air. With all four swords in the air flaring brightly the fair dancing she stood still her arms crossed looking at ease. Her arm shooting out at the perfect time to catch first the broad sword turning it to impale it in the stage as her left hand caught the long sword impaling it as her right caught the scimitar the left the Épée. With the Épée impaled into the stage she tore off the blind fold and smirked briefly not noting the soot clinging to her arms where the flames all but burned her, nor the places where they had caught her clothes if only briefly.
Cocking her head slightly to the side Erin regarded the woman who for whatever reason had decided to offer her this chance, a chance she suddenly wanted. Where else could she feel such an intoxicating high as doing something so adrenaline inducing and not be looked at as an escaped mental patient for it. "So impressed?" She asked her voice an urban drawl as she spoke.
Elizabeth swept her fingertips across the wound on her hand as she watched the girl perform on stage. Quite frankly the girls unearned arrogance that was shown without words had pissed Elizabeth off. But she knew it took that type of arrogance to perform the type of show she was performing…Without absolute confidence in yourself, you’d make a mistake. Set yourself up in an inferno, or impale yourself with a sword you’ve never used and no site at all. She used the pain from the swipes of her fingers to calm herself down, and thus allow the spirit to work on its own. She never decided who the spirit went to, it decided on its own.
Had Erin been able to see Elizabeths face she may have been put off. Yet another reason for the blindfold. She had a dead pan stare towards the girl as she analyzed every last movement. The ability to do it was certainly the most important. But the ability to pull it off in a way that was alluring to the eye was the subtlety that she absolutely demanded in the act. By the end of the show she couldn’t quite place her finger upon which of the three possibilities it was, but she found herself drawn to the girl. The Spirit, The show, or the pain. Perhaps all three, but she did indeed enjoy what she saw.
“It is not me that you needed to impress. You impressed me on the street, which is the only reason you’re within this tent. But the spirit is who you needed to prove yourself too.” The girl may think that she was insane. Spirits were usually associated with ghost stories. Elizabeth stood up and walked to the stage before she pulled herself onto it. She walked to the edge of the curtains and pulled a stool out. She walked back to Erin and set it in front of her. “I’m going to offer you a taste of the spirit. Once you take it into you, you will forever be bound to it. Make your decision wisely.” Elizabeth held no bags. She had on a shirt that stopped at her upper arms, and was too tight to hide anything. So when her hand waved over the stool, and a puff of light grey smoke appeared with a small vial, it should be clear that it wasn’t some slide of hand.
Elizabeth walked to the edge of the stage and hopped off. As she walked towards the doors, she spoke back to the girl. “You can think I am insane and deny it, and continue to make pocket change performing in front of a few. Or you can drink it, and perform in front of thousands who will look at you as a goddess.” Elizabeths words ended just as she found the linen doors. She walked out without ever looking back. No one had ever denied the spirit, she doubted that this girl would be the first.
The encounter with the woman had left her with an odd feeling of desire mixed with unease. She could feel the heaviness of the moment weighing on her slender shoulders as she lifted the vial looking up in time to see Elizabeth disappear. Alone a great deal of Erin's natural arrogance seeped away and she looked like a fragile young girl of 22 with no idea who she would eat the next day or keep a roof over her head. She had her father that much was true but she loathed to lean on him when he him self seemed half lost most of the time.
Slender fingers that in no way looked strong enough to wield a broad sword caressed the strange vial as she bit into her plump lower lip. She wanted it. wanted the shimmering chance the vial represented but she sensed more behind the offer that was left unsaid. Unfortunately there were to be no answers, this was a leap of faith. That decided it for her. She'd always trusted her instincts that had led her from one daring thing to the next. She'd never once hesitated before leaping in with both feet without looking down.
Long fingers stronger then they looked plucked the stopper from the vial and pressed the edge to her lips as she tilted it back and let the spirit what ever the hell that was flood into her being. She gasped dropping the vial to shatter against the wooden floor of the stage as the euphoric feeling of the spirit took hold of her. She found herself laughing as she plucked the long sword from the stage and with more ease then she'd ever been able to before turned it in her grasp like someone from a drill teem would a lifeless gun. The edges of the sword that usually cut into her palms only just cut into her skin barely making her bleed. Never in her life had she felt more right then in that one exhilarating moment. Likes:
Strawberries, piano music, hard rock music, contrast, the unexpected, arrogance, moonless night, and secrets.Dislikes:
Timidness, apologies, societies rules and limits.