conversations: human
conversations:  Daren Crepsley passes through the billowing flaps of his tent, Madam Octa following close behind him, the affectionate spider giving him a nuzzle that would have brought any other man to wetting himself.
  
  The flash of bulb camera behind you was still bright, and the flashes still burned in your eyes leaving spots that floated in your vision for a few seconds, but nothing you weren't used to since the Press got wind of the Cirque being in town.
  
  You navigate around Paparazzi, and screaming children who run terrified from the giant spider, and come into your room, the single light bulb that hung loosely from the jury rigged electrical system casting a dim light over the room, leaving little unliluminated in the small space, a coffin near the otherside of the room. You draw a bottle of "Red Gatorade" (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.), and unscrew the screw top, taking a swig of the thick liquid.
  
  As you sit down to manage some basic aspects of life, and enjoy a good bottle, all of the lights in the Cirque, the City, and hell even the creepy Red neck 30 miles out in his shed in the woods running on a generator loses power , but only for a instant, the scream of a small child punctutes that instant though, and then... Silence.
conversations: Fan:
conversations: human
conversations:  (assuming it's night)
  
   Larten Crepsley 
  
  Larten moves out of the tent of the cirque, the most recent preformance done with. It is very disturbing to see the level of attention the cirque is getting, this could be bad if a vapinese or vampire hunter was around. Then again, he had little time to think on the situation, the man pushes through the crowed, using such deadly speed he almost seemed to teleport. The disturbing but very bright, and exotically collored spider sits on his chin, her skull pattern conplementing crepsley's scar.
  
  Sitting on his coffin, and unbottling some "neurishment" crepsley lets out a large *sigh*.   Looks like I need to talk to hibernius. It's not good to be getting this much attention. 
  
  The man muses to madam octa and himself only a moment longer before a scream is heard, and the power fails momentarily. Crepsely, being used to the lack of luxuries, haden't noticed if it weren't for the lights and devices of the camera crew blinking out momentarily. He rushes out of his tent, his instincts telling him to see if the wolfman is locked up, or if a child had only been frightened by one of the preformers. It was rare that children came to this kind of show, the last he remembers, is that "shawn" boy.
  
  (list of SOME freaks, larger list in a few days.
  
  Remus twobellies (fatman, eats anything, even radioactive materials, or metals, won't be harmed)
  
  Hans Hand's (Legless, has learnt to walk, and even RUN, on his hands, can outrun the FASTEST man alive on his hands.)
  
  Evra Von (Snake-boy hybrid, preforms with his snake to make a startling closing)
  
  Wolfman (Were-wolf, too uncontrollable to be "free", has no real emotions, only instinct, the "little people" that Desmond tiny provides controls him, with sort of "magic")
  
  Birtha Beard (or something, name might be off) (Russian chick, very "hot" from her description, can make an unbreakable 7ft long bear as she pleases, a bit of a turn off. :p)
conversations: DMBlackhart: