Somewhere On The Streets, Tuesday Morning

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine was a juggler. This much was not a secret, of course.

That he had found himself a juggling partner a while back might not have been common knowledge.

That they were both insane enough to attempt to coordinate an act together was probably a given.

That they were going to attempt to juggle chunks of wood wrapped in flaming, gasoline-soaked rags?

...

Well, that was something that might have to be seen to be believed.


[[OOC: Open to anyone who dares to gawk! First thread locked to Valentine and his juggling partner, please!]]

Comments

[iseewhatyoumean.livejournal.com]

Cassandra was pursed her lips as she kept three burning batons in the air in front of her, "Why are we using fire again?"

Clearly she had a lot to learn about showmanship.

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine wasn't exactly used to juggling anything so... well, so hot. But he wasn't at all put off by it, really. It was entirely worth it, after all.

"For the spectacle, of course," he explained pleasantly, his sleeves barely managing to keep up with his arms as his hands chased the flames through the air. "That's what performing is all about, you know. You do something a little bigger, a little better, a little flashier than the rest, and that's what gives you the name, the glory, the money!"

He had his priorities, of course.

[iseewhatyoumean.livejournal.com]

"Oh," she said in a tone of voice that clearly meant she Didn't Get It.

"So it's about more than just having fun?"

[dark_slippy_thing]

"Oh, yes, of course, of course," Valentine would have waved a hand dismissively in the air in front of him, but that would be detrimental to him catching the next baton that tumbled down in front of him. "There's all of that, 'go out, have a good time, if-you're-happy-and-you-know it nonsense, too, if you're in it for that sort of thing. The audience might even appreciate it, really. But if you don't make it big, how do you ever expect to be able to afford lunch, afterward?"

Lunch, of course, was the other top priority.

[iseewhatyoumean.livejournal.com]

"I suppose that makes sense," Cassandra nodded as she half-concentrated on keeping everything in the air. "Do you usually make enough to afford lunch afterward?"

[dark_slippy_thing]

...

"That's neither here nor there, is it?"

Valentine? Totally not a huge moneymaker.

[iseewhatyoumean.livejournal.com]

"But," Cassandra blinked in confusion, "I thought you said that was the point."

[dark_slippy_thing]

"It is the point. Which is why we must up the spectac--"

Valentine's argument was cut short as one of his floppy sleeves decided that it would like to flop right into one of the flaming batons.

It was really difficult to up the spectacle more than that, wasn't it?

[iseewhatyoumean.livejournal.com]

Dropping her own batons, Cassandra dashed forward to dive tackle Valentine. He might not know to Stop, Drop, and Roll, after all.

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine was something of a failure at stop, drop and roll. He was, however, very well versed in 'wave your arms around like an idiot until you're tackled to the ground.'

Which really didn't do much but fan the fire.

Once he had been tackled, however, he did have the presence of mind to fight his way out of his coat and stomp on it a few times.

... Well. He really didn't need that sleeve after all, did he?

[iseewhatyoumean.livejournal.com]

"Your sleeve caught on fire," Cassandra pointed out helpfully as she stood back up.

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine frowned as he climbed back to his feet, picking up his coat and inspecting it.

"Yes, Cassandra. I can see that."

Sleeve? Not anymore.

[iseewhatyoumean.livejournal.com]

"I think it's ruined," she added. Still helpfully.

[dark_slippy_thing]

Sigh.

"Yes, Cassandra. I can see that, as well."

...

"Is it nearly time for lunch, yet?"

[iseewhatyoumean.livejournal.com]

She tilted her head, "Did we make enough money yet?"

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine pulled what was left of his coat back on and frowned.

"Probably not, but I'm certain that we put on one hell of a show." His arm was decidedly chilly without a sleeve covering it. "We were to meet Naminé in the park at noon, at any rate. We ought to get going."

[iseewhatyoumean.livejournal.com]

Cassandra nodded. "You're the boss."

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine rather liked that title. 'Boss.'

So he was grinning rather broadly, sleeve or no sleeve, as he set off toward the park to meet with Naminé for lunch.