<div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3op8ql1VS1r7wrq1o1_r2_250.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Lawrence Hawkins<br/><strong>Place within Hierarchy:</strong>Old Timer<br/><strong>Role:</strong>Act<br/><strong>Position:</strong>Fire Handler, Elizabeths Partner<br/><strong>Location:</strong>The Big Tent<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Black slacks, a white button up, and a black vest with vertical pinstripes.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>His glass of Scotch<br/><br/>Always count on Elizabeth to ensure that there was a party.  They had barely been more then a meeting to discuss the circuses end when Gerald had been in charge, before they had arrived.  By the time that he had left she had added a little more fun to them, talking Gerald into letting everyone that travelled with them attend and to allow alcohol.  He had chosen not to attend the first one that had taken place after his turn out of respect for the family more than Elizabeth, he didn’t wish to ruin the mood with questions.  But in the past two weeks, between the week long train ride and the week of shows, he was pretty sure that everyone had it out of their systems enough to let it go for one evening.<br/><br/>Lawrence had arrived about five minutes before the unofficial start time just to get a lay out of what Elizabeth had turned these events into.  He had to admit, he was surprised.  Even with Elizabeths distaste for modern technology, he had expected at least some sort of muted club atmosphere.  Yet she had managed to convey something that worked perfectly with the rest of the atmosphere she so desperately wished to maintain.  He was a bit worried about the plethora of candles, but he was sure she had things under control.<br/><br/>Lawrence took a seat at a table near the dance floor, on the opposite side of what he assumed was Elizabeths tacky throne.  He wanted a good view of her, but more than anything, he wished for a good view of the dance floor.  Call it a voyeuristic past time.  He also knew the implications of his placement, the table would likely be one of the first ones to fill up due to it’s location.  He had no squabbles with that notion, he had remained far too silent for far too long.  The table was large, with five more seats surrounding it and too much alcohol in the middle.  Likely for those who wished to jump off the dance floor for a quick drink.<br/><br/>Lawrence had arrived in the same outfit that he wore during his shows.  It was a miracle in his eyes that it did not have burn holes in it, this week was certainly the first time he had performed shows without burning himself…Let alone his clothing.  He still smelled faintly of smoke, but only if you were close enough to take in his scent.  The table in front of him had a large glass of scotch(If things went well, the only one he’d have this evening) and a lit cigar.  He sat with a mocking smile as Elizabeth gave her little opening speech.<br/><br/>‘Not the best show you’ve put on’ he thought to himself.  Though the addition of the clowns to the Big Tent was certainly something worth celebrating.  He drank them in, both male and female.  He was still growing used to the way that the spirit could make you feel, and like a new smoker still getting used to the nicotine high, he enjoyed every second of it.<br/><br/>He was still quite uncertain what to expect of this evening.  Of the crowd, of Elizabeth, of those around him.  Curious how he would be taken in his first true social event.  Typically it was something to make a man nervous, but when you played with fire for a living their was very little that could unnerve you.  His eyes finally returned to Elizabeth, who seemed to looked towards him at the same moment.  They just locked eyes for a moment, before Lawrence gave a tilt of his head.  He was pleased with what she had managed to set up, though that nod of the head was certainly the closest thing to telling her he could imagine doing.