LunarTwilight117

       "Wake up, Omega! It's our day off!" Ugh. Omega tried to sit up in his bed, but something prevented him from moving. Looking up, Tau was sitting on his chest, smiling. "What the devil are you doing here? And how did I end up back in my trailer? I distinctly remember falling asleep in a tree, because I punched a squirrel." The belly dancer leaned back (near an uncomfortable space of Omega's body) and asked, "You punched a squirrel? Why?" Omega cracked his neck and replied, "Because they are annoying creatures that resemble rats with huge tails. Also, get your bejeweled arse off of me or you'll find a flaming torch in your hair when

Morning light soon filled the brightly colored tents of the troupe. The "normal" circus got an official break, letting the members go out and relax or prep for the night's show. But the freaks got the closest to a break for them; being let out of the late night shows into the day showings. It wasn't glamorous. It was in fact, very ordinary. A normal side show. Well, if you glanced faraway. But these men and women, boys and girls, were not ordinary. They were misfits. They were deformed. They were, most importantly, different. So it was no surprise when the normal everyday goers went along to the circus and got a shock. Where were the sword

Omega coughed and drank down his bitter medicine. Disgusting thing. If it was made by Sigma, I'd never drink the entire-"You'll need to drink the whole thing if you're ever going to get better fast enough for the next show tomorrow night." Damn it. Omega sneered at Sigma and shook his head. "I will not force this sludge down my throat. If this is a remedy, I'd hate to see what poisons you cook up." Sigma raised his eyebrows and said, "Poisons? Dude, I'm no witch. I just know my way around herbal mixes. But it doesn't take a genius to put peppers into your next drink when those swords stuck in your throat become a problem and you come runn

 A whisper out in the crowded streets. "Come see our show." A handful of people hear the soft voice and are beckoned by curiousity to follow its source. An armful don't even heed it and keep on walking. No one wants to see a show that uses a person with such a small voice to advertise.      But some, they want to differ from normal routines. Adventurous, some may say. Stupid, others reply. Either way, people still go to see the show. There are more people there to watch than any of them expected. Buying their own tickets, they each go their own way. To the trapeze walkers, the sword swallowers, the magicians, and th