Tobias Crowe

THE GROUNDS


When one stumbles upon the Cirque, it's usually in some abandoned parking lot somewhere, or an open field, or parked in the middle of a graveyard when there's enough room. It tends to crop up in liminal spaces, and often it seems to appear almost overnight, with no one having seen it get set up.

The outside of Cirque De Lune is very unassuming. It looks like a small, slightly dingy circus--- usually no more than three smallish tents, all care worn. The music that floats through the air is cheery and jaunty, and a little bit off key in places, and the smell of bonfire smoke and burnt sugar fills the air. A simple pallet fence surrounds it, its wood old and graying and even a little mossy in places, and one can jump the fence if they want to skip the little one man ticket booth at the front, but that tends to be a good way to wind up in places that you don't want to be.

The inside of the ticket booth is hard to see, and the voice within it changes often. The price seems to change for everyone--- and sometimes it's even free. It really depends on who's in charge of the booth on that day and what sort of mood they're in.

Only when one is past the gates, and the two tents that flank the entrance does the landscape change. One finds themselves walking through a sudden, rolling fog, and when it thins out again, they are decidedly elsewhere, though for some it takes them a little while to figure that out.

The midway is the first place that guests to Cirque De Lune encounter. It's a lot like many other midways... there's fair food galore-- fried dough, turkey legs, hot dogs, cotton candy, popcorn... among other, stranger delights. There are also rides, though they each have their own peculiarities. Carnival games can be played at the far end of the midway, where buskers and performers practice their arts, from knife throwing acts to fortune tellers, and even the odd clown. The whole thing seems decidedly darker though, more dreamlike. It's not quite fear that one feels (though many of the performers do delight in a good scare). More, it's the uncanny feeling that one has been there and done this all before that unsettles people.

Once that sets in, it's easy to notice the midway's other oddities. The carousel, while achingly beautiful, has painted animals that occasionally snap at the fingers of naughty visitors. The mirror maze shows reflections of the faucets and fractures of one's inner selves. The lion in the lion tamer act shifts shape, lion, then man, then lion again, and lanky creatures with pumpkin and turnip heads wander the ground, patiently cleaning up garbage and tending to the landscape. One's head falls off, and they simply bend down and put it back on again.

All about is the unsettling, the wondrous. It's usually about here that most newcomers either begin to panic, or to accept the strangeness, cooking up some reasoning in their minds for why they are seeing these things, or perhaps simply coming to accept that the world is just a touch stranger than they ever knew...

The midway is a broad stretch of cobblestone that goes on quite a ways. Following it will eventually bring one to the Big Top, and past that, to winding paths that lead through massive oak trees five or six arms around. It's easy to get lost on these paths. The areas outside of the midway and Big Top are decidedly tricky and like to shift positions, but following the colored flames of the candles and little lanterns that line the pathways is a sure way to keep your footing. Blue for Crow Hollow, yellow for the Starlit woods, and red for the pumpkin patch.

The circus grounds themselves do have a day and night cycle, though the nights last far longer than the days, and the further you get from the midway, the longer they stretch. In the Mistlands it is always night.


The Big Tent is where the magic happens-- literally. Most people get regular shows... the expected jugglers, horseback riders, acrobats, clowns, and fire eaters, if with a decidedly supernatural twist. Every now and then though, Tobias himself gets involved, and when that happens, anything is possible.

The tent itself sits at the end of the midway, just before the path branches off into the woods. It's a fairly large and grand looking tent-- an obvious centerpiece to the circus, but not unusual in its size. The inside though, is absolutely cavernous, lending further credence to the idea that this circus is not at all the usual sort. Gilded stars and colorful lanterns hang high above the performance rings and bleachers, casting playful shadows on the tent's fabric, and a network of tightrope lines and trapeze swings make for a spider web of spectacle as acrobats swing and cavort among them, despite the decided lack of net to catch them if they fall.

THE MIST LANDS
Head south from the circus grounds and into the heavy mist that permeates the dark forest that surrounds Cirque De Lune, and you will eventually reach the Blue Desert. There are no trails to get there or back again, so if that is your intended destination, make sure that you have an easy way out or back. Jackalopes are usually one's best bet. If you don't come with your own, sometimes if you're very lucky, you can sometimes encounter wild ones out in the desert. Befriend them with a bit of whiskey and they may lead you back home again.

The Blue Desert is aptly named. Its deep blue sands are warm to the touch, despite a lack of sunlight, and the dunes that form the desert seem to go on forever. Occasionally the shadows of ruins can be seen in the distance, but no matter how long one walks, one never seems to reach them. It truly is an alien place. Besides the Jackalopes, Whistlers sometimes stalk the dunes. No one's ever seen the creatures. They move like wind over the sands, invisible until they're upon you, and then they're all sharp teeth and claws. They can be identified by the almost human whistling noises they make, and the best thing to do if you hear them is hide. It's never a good idea to whistle in the Blue Desert-- you may call the Whistlers to you.

One might ask why anyone would want to visit the Blue Desert. Endless and dangerous, it seems like a place only to come to die. The Jackalopes that live in the desert, however, are important guides to those who call Cirque De Lune home, as well as their main source of transportation outside of walking. The Blue Desert holds another secret too though... Within the sand, countless lost objects can be found. Chances are if you search for something that you've lost long enough, and it's not in someone else's possession, that you can find it within the sands of the Blue Desert.

Head into the mists to the north rather than the south and you'll reach the sea. This sea has no name-- it is only "The Sea", and like the Blue Desert it seems to go on forever, its crashing waves a constant hush and retreat against the dark sands, silver sea foam rushing in and back again. The waters of the sea are very cold, though no ice rests upon their surface, and they drain the warmth quickly from anything they touch.

You may take a boat out onto the sea, though you would never find the end of it, and there are creatures that live in its depths, though they are no fish that most beings would recognize. They seem half formed and strange, dreams and nightmares to be pulled up on the end of a fishing line. To eat the flesh of one of these creatures means to see the visions they carry-- each a different glimpse of the future, though what part exactly is up to chance. The gift of prophecy comes with a price though. Cold seeps into the body with each bite, leaving one in a shivering stupor for hours sometimes while the visions take hold.

Affectionately named after Tobias himself by the residents, Crow Hollow is where the majority of the circus folk live. Some live in vardos, or other styles of living wagons, while others have chosen to set up more lavish tents. Curiously, despite the fact that the circus grounds themselves never technically move, there doesn't seem to be much in the way of more permanent structures in this place. It might be tradition, or perhaps there's some other quirk that only those who live there understand, but the outer structures of the housing, at least, are all meant to be very mobile.

The exception to this rule is the barn that houses the Jackalopes. These creatures are a major form of transportation around the Cirque, and they seem to have the uncanny ability to navigate within this world. One is never lost with a Jackalope.

These 'Jackalopes' are giant rabbits about the size of ponies, with the bucks tending to be a bit bigger than even that. Both the males and the females have antlers, and enlarged, sabertooth-like canines. They each have a pair of small feathered wings on their backs. The wings are vestigial, however, and are used only when the animals are very young. The kits nest up in trees to avoid predators. The animals are fond of whiskey and will do nearly anything for it. No one's quite sure why, as they're incapable of getting drunk.

In all technicality, this group of features makes them wolpertingers, which is their proper name, but Jackalopes or Lopes proved to be easier for many of the troop, and so the name stuck. The majority of the tame Jackalopes are all housed in the large barn in Crow Hollow, with a wide field for the creatures to roam when they're not pulling wagons or acting as transport. Wild jackalopes can occasionally be encountered while traveling the blue desert.

Following one of the outer paths, the trees start to thin out a bit, and the landscape grows rougher. The enormous oaks that tower above much of the circus grounds become slender willows and pale birch trees, alder and ash. Closest to the start of the path, hundreds of paper stars can be seen hanging from their branches, lighting up the night. The further one gets down the path, the higher the shadows of the trees seem to stretch, and slowly the paper stars become real ones, countless and bright above the darkened canopy.

At the bottom of the path you'll find a wide field that stretches along beside a shallow river. A massive yew tree spreads its branches over the middle of the field, and all around are squat stone mounds, very old and moss covered. It is said that this part of the circus grounds butts up against a different world entirely. One should exercise extra caution while wandering this part of the grounds.

On many nights one can hear hounds in the trees, barking and howling ahead of thunderous hoof beats. You can catch them sometimes, the shadowy host responsible for the ruckus, a glimpse of star spangled shadows racing through the trees. Never follow the lanterns.

A few additional tents and wagons can be found at the edges of this field-- usually those who feel more comfortable being closer to this other world... or perhaps those who have come from there in the first place. There are often merry feasts and bonfires held between the tents, whole roasted ox, or boar, or goose, mulled wine and beer, roasting chestnuts, pumpkin, sweet potatoes, and a hundred other delights. It is said if you write your name upon a stone and cast it into one of the fires here, that it will tell your fortune, or perhaps, if you're very lucky, break any curses or bad luck streaks you may be carrying.

The locals are generally pretty friendly and welcoming of strangers, though they do tend to play a bit rough. It pays to keep an eye out though-- every bushel has its bad apples. It's particularly best to avoid the lake that the river empties out into. It's rumored to be bottomless, and it's a well known fact that a particularly ornery kelpie lives there.


There is a huge patch of pumpkins on the circus grounds. There are big pumpkins, little pumpkins, orange pumpkins, green pumpkins, and even the occasional jack-o-lantern still on the vine. They lay between the trees, nestled into the leaf litter like strange eggs, and there seems to be hundreds of them. An enormous, pumpkin headed beast-- a wurzel like the ones that tend to the circus midway, except far more fierce, guards the patch, chasing away intruders that may be up to no good. Those who bring the wurzel an offering though, may be allowed to wander the patch freely, as long as they behave themselves.

The patch is also home to a colony of cats who have made themselves at home between the pumpkins. It's said that if one of the cats from this colony chooses to come home with you, that they will offer special protection against harmful magics and hexes for the rest of the time that they are with you. It must always be the cat that chooses, though.


RESIDENTIAL
Of course, there are many more private, hidden little places in between here and there on the circus grounds. Cirque De Lune is an ever shifting place, and sometimes it's just a matter of knowing how to get there. Do you know how to get there?

Note: If you would like to have your character connected to, or a part of Cirque De Lune, and you have a link to their personal home within the circus, feel free to send me a link and I will be very happy to include it here for other people to enjoy! If you're interested in being a part of the circus somehow, feel free to shoot me a message. Only the bats bite here. ♡