Agatha didn't particularly mind it when she wasn't paid any significant attention. Much of the time, she would rather have been invisible anyway, considering that most of the attention she received was that of abject horror or befuddling desire- she could never quite understand why someone would find six arms, black-as-night eyeballs, and fangs long enough to bite someone to death attractive- and besides, there was a familiar pain in loneliness, something she could take comfort in once in awhile.<br/><br/>That Izzy still tried to give her some acknowledgement made her warm and fuzzy inside, regardless.<br/><br/>Victoriya's fumble, bumble, and bounce almost incited a snicker, but Agatha put a hand over her mouth to stifle it. There was a slight pang of longing at the sight of Izzy with the Russian lass and Serina in Izzy's arms; all three of them were so huggable, and Agatha was sure she'd be the best in the entire Cirque at hugging. Come on, she had six arms, for Christ's sake. There was enough room there for her to get all three of them at once.<br/><br/>It didn't matter much, anyway. She knew she was loved here, and that was what counted. As Victoriya left Izzy's grasp to try and fail to get decent, so too did Agatha leave the group that had gathered around the ringleaders. She caught sight of Cid, and began to approach him when she heard his timid request. She answered in place of Enzo, "<span style="color: #ff99cc">Yes, that would be him,</span>" her own voice not being much louder than his.<br/><br/>- - - - - -<br/><br/>"<i><span style="color: #b30000">All or nothing at all<br/>
Half a love never appealed to me<br/>
If your heart, never could yield to me<br/>
Then I'd rather, rather have nothin' at all...</span></i><span style="color: #808080">"<br/>
<br/>
Though he was no Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby himself, Angelo did at least have a good, possibly even great singing voice. He didn't suspect he could have made a career out of it, but what the Hell, it was at least fun for him. A fat cigar in the fingers of his left hand and his cane in his right, the Greco-American pyrotechnician took a drag, blew the smoke out his nose, and continued singing as he wandered the outskirts of the lot they were occupying.<br/>
<br/>
"</span><span style="color: #b30000"><i>All, or nothing at all</i><br/>
<i>If it's love, there ain't no in-between</i><br/>
<i>Why begin, then cry for somethin' that might have been</i></span><br/><i><span style="color: rgb(179, 0, 0)">No, I'd rather, rather have nothing at all...</span></i>"<br/><br/>Stepping in time to the music that was playing in his head, Angelo's singing grew louder, possibly to the chagrin of the members of the Cirque who enjoyed sleeping in, but fuck it, they should be up by now anyway.<br/><br/>"<span style="color: #b30000"><i>Oh please, don't bring your lips close to my cheek</i><br/>
<i>Don't you smile or I'll be lost beyond recall</i><br/>
<i>The kiss in your eyes, the touch of your hand makes me weak</i></span><br/><i><span style="color: rgb(179, 0, 0)">And my heart, may grow very dizzy and fall!</span></i>"<br/><br/>Soon, he was belting out the lyrics as though he was onstage, using his cane as an imaginary microphone.<br/><br/>"<span style="color: #b30000"><i>And if I fell under the spell of your call</i><br/>
<i>I would be caught in the undertow</i><br/>
<i>And so you see, I've got to say no, no</i></span><br/><i><span style="color: rgb(179, 0, 0)">All or nothing at all!</span></i>"<br/><br/>A spin was spun, a pose was struck, and the last line rang through the field.<br/><br/>"<i><span style="color: rgb(179, 0, 0)">All or nothing at aaa-</span></i>"<br/><br/>Angelo gave a blinking stare through his smoky purple pince-nez. Looking ahead, he could see a familiar figure in the distance. His eyes widened and he cracked a broad smile. "<span style="color: #b30000">Gabby, is that you? Come, we haven't met in a whole decade! We've much catching up to do!</span>"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>