Solo Flipping for Money

[Roland Eir]

62nd of Fall, 517 With relief, Roland dropped his burden to the cobblestones. The leather rug unfurled at one corner, flopping open halfheartedly. He kicked open the rest with a jab of his foot. It took up the street corner, causing a few pedestrians to grumble and cast hard looks his way. Roland waved at them with a placating smile. The size of the rug meant he could perform there without bruising his body on the stones beneath, but it also meant carrying it around was a trial in itself. A sheen of sweat had already broken out on his arms and back. When Roland dropped his bag and removed his jacket the cool air easily cut its way through his light performing ensemble to chill his skin. The bright red of the clothes caught the eyes of passersby, and Roland had to remind himself once more that that was the point. His instinct was to shrink away and hide against the wall, but instead he stood up to his full height and tried to appear like a confident, graceful performer setting up for his show. He threw back his shoulders and smiled, beginning a series of stretches by crossing one arm across his chest and pinning it there. The brisk walk through the city carrying his performing rug had already warmed him up. Thankfully, considering the cold. When one arm was finished he switched to the other. Then he took a wide stance and bent over one leg, stretching his fingers toward his toes. The familiar, satisfying burn that accompanied the movements reminded him not to push it too far. He put his body through the motions, noticing that a couple people had already stopped to gander at his exercises. Before long his limbs felt loose and warm, ready to begin the day's performance. He returned to his bag and knelt. It took only a tick to retrieve the simple basin he used to collect his earnings, but he stayed in the position a moment longer. This is it. You're not a fool. You're a performer. You want them to see you. You want to make them happy. After a deep breath and a count of three, he stood and spun around. With a flick of his wrist he dropped the collection tin to the cobblestones. It clattered and rattled there like a cymbal, and a dozen people's heads snapped to the source of the noise. Roland strode forward before they could look away and held a hand over the basin. He dipped down and massaged his fingers into his palm, causing the smattering of silver mizas hidden there to slip and plunk into the basin one by one. With that his performance had begun. He tilted back and let his body fall, his knees already bending to allow for the roll. The leather absorbed the impact well, allowing him to tumble across the cobblestones without accruing a debt of bruises. He sprang back up to his feet, his arms splayed. "Come one, come all!" his body said, though his mind strained against the looks of the people around him. The Alvad's loved a performance, even that of a novice. Bending forward into a handstand, his fingers digging into the leather for support, he was reminded just how much of an amateur he was. His first performance had made him think this would be an easy job. The act had gone well, despite a few too many falls, and the money he'd earned has been above and beyond his expectations. But he'd used the Flux that day, pushing his body past its normal limits. It wasn't until the next day that he felt the damage from those falls and the strain on his muscles. Since then he'd used his magic sparingly in his performances, relying instead on his own abilities. As it turned out, a childhood jumping over rooftops did not adequately prepare one for the acrobat's trade. He'd seen a myriad of performers on the streets of Alvadas and he knew he didn't quite stack up. While he made do with somersaults, handstands, cartwheels and a few simple flips, he'd seen men and women on street corners tying themselves into knots, perform handsprings that would turn his wrists to putty, walk along wires, and do it all with a natural showmanship he just didn't possess. Balancing on one hand, he ignored the quiet claps of the small audience that had gathered. His concentration was focused on a single misshapen cobblestone just beyond the rug. The grounded point provided him with a focus while he balanced. His neck protested at the angle his head kept while he walked forward on his hands. While the world around him shook and his limbs hissed in complaint, that cobblestone stayed still and so did he. But these basics were like breathing to a true acrobat. As he came to a stop just a foot from the edge of the performing mat, he extended a leg to the side and picked up the opposite hand from the ground. There was only one way for him to compete on the streets of Alvadas. Keeping his gaze focused on that stone, he delved deep inside to find the waiting pool of djed. Once it had taken bells of intense focus even to find the source of that energy. Now it was a part of him, constantly on the edge of his being. In his minds eye he took the arm now supporting his body and dipped it into that pool. Gasping as his arm went almost numb with energy, he focused on isolating the flow. It pooled in his forearm and hand, a technique he was still learning. But with that condensed power it was a simple trick to brace his finger against the mat and push. The audience whistled and clapped as his body rose a little bit higher, supported by a single finger. His core quailed and shuddered, and he let a bit of energy slip up to strengthen his balance before he toppled. The grin on his face wasn't as forced now as the power of the Flux pumped through his heart. It was a magic-induced ecstasy and Roland loved every tick of it. But to avoid giving too much he let the power fade, shifting back to two hands on the mat. Gathered by the applause of the few, more people had stopped to watch. Small coins, bronze mizas mostly, clinked into the tin. Watchers came and went, and not everyone payed. That was the reality of the job, and he ignored the constant flow of his audience and instead concentrated on the flow of his performance. From his handstand he turned about and collapsed into a forward roll. He took the momentum and used it to spring up into a cartwheel. He didn't stick the landing, his weight carried him forward another few steps, but at that point he didn't care. The rush of the performance had overcome his anxieties--with a little help from the Flux--and he was grinning and bowing to to the audience. Word Count: 1187

[Roland Eir]

"Roland!" The shout caught him off guard. Few people in Alvadas knew him. He scanned the audience quickly until he saw two Vantha waving. One, a child, waved with both arms, his face beaming. His father waved as well, though one of his hands was firmly planted on the boy's shoulder. "It's me, Ardent!" the boy called, doubling his waving efforts. Roland waved back with a smile, but it wouldn't do to end the performance. The other people looked between him and the Vantha with ambivalence. They didn't care about a reunion. Before people started to slip away, Roland raised his arms and launched himself forward. His hands hit the mat, his arms straight but not locked in place. With a grunt, he let his arms bend and then launched himself forward to complete the handspring. His head spun with the flip, threatening to dislodge his breakfast. He fought the feeling, keeping his mind on where his limbs were in relation to the rest of his body rather than the ground. His legs braced for impact, and he landed with a bounce. Like catching an egg, he let his body bend with the impact rather than resist it. No one clapped louder than Ardent, though his father Kalo gave a whoop of appreciation as well. Emboldened, Roland turned and gave a short bow, then continued with his performance. Between every trick and tumble he could hear his two new acquaintances applauding. He'd always worked in front of strangers, expecting showing this side of him to people knew to be embarrassing. Instead, he loved it. Especially with Ardent, it was like he was performing for just one boy instead of the small crowd that had passed through. Finishing a short run of tricks with a front flip, he found his body suddenly colliding mid-air with a springy net. The audience experienced the same shock that Roland did, as the whole street was suddenly covered with a series of web-like mesh. The illusions spread from rooftop to rooftop, doors to windows, carts to the ground, and even between people, who stopped and shouted in confusion. Roland rolled over on the net he'd landed in, causing it to bounce and shift under his movement. "What in Ionu's blessed petching name?" he muttered under his breath. The mesh stretched across his performing space at odd angles. It seemed the god of trickery had decided to toy with this particular street. Disentangling themselves from the webs, it seemed people were keen to move on. Not ready to call it a day, Roland bounced out of the net to get to the ground. Instead, he landed on one large section of mesh that stretched across most of his mat. It sprang under his feet, tossing him almost a foot back into the air. Annoyance turned to excitement. "Wait!" he called to the thinning audience. "I can work with this!" The mesh of the net was tight enough that his feet didn't slip into the holes. It flexed and sprang under his feet, and when he gave it a few small bounces he found that it would propel him higher every time. Alright then. He pushed off with more force, launching himself into the air. When he came back down he tensed his legs like he would after every jump. This time, instead of cushioning his landing, he used it to throw himself higher into the air. Exhilarated, he couldn't help but laugh at the feeling. The hardest part would be avoiding the other strings of netting over his head, but this would be a fantastic way of earning some extra coin. He pushed the extra air to his advantage. Once he was comfortable jumping, he did a single flip. Then another. Then a backflip. Before long he misjudged some timing and collapsed back onto the net, but found with glee that it didn't hurt a bit. Before long he found he wasn't the only one bouncing. The Alvads took great joy in their god's trick, and other nets around the street were put to good use. By the time Roland's legs were too tired to go on, the people of Alvadas were taking to the nets like spiders. It was a surreal sight: men, women, and children alike climbing and springing in their business clothes. Roland took a seat on the net he'd used to perform, massaging his calves. The muscles had never been used quite like that before, and they hummed pleasantly. "This is really something, huh?" Kalo handed Roland his collection basin, heavy with bronze and silver mizas. "Sorry it distracted people from your performance." Roland shook his head. "If anything it added to it. Ionu can be kind sometimes." "Truly." Kalo's eyes were trained on his son Ardent, who clambered up a net a little ways away. "Not too high there!" The boy laughed, swinging down to bounce off another net. Kalo's eyes softened. "It's been too long since he's been able to relax like this." "Are you still troubled by those Priest of the Seasons' fanatics?" Roland asked with concern. They'd met when Kalo and his son were assaulted in the street. Frankly, Roland had expected the pair to leave the city. "Not like we were. Things have quieted down lately and I was able to get back to work." "I thought you planned on leaving. Take your family somewhere safe." Kalo frowned, his eyes never leaving his boy. "No. This is our home." "I don't get it," Roland insisted. "How can it be your home if you aren't even wanted here?" Kalo stiffened at the comment. "You know what I mean." "To the average Alvad the Vantha aren't to blame. The people know that. The Speakers are on our side. It's just the vocal few who hate us. And I can weather that. So can Ardent. I don't think he'd want to live anywhere else." Roland followed Kalo's eyes to Ardent, who was bouncing now with two other children. Their giggles turned to laughter as they took turns bouncing each other higher and higher. Ardent used the height to pull himself into a ball, flipping in the air. Roland laughed, recognizing some of the moves he'd been pulling a few chimes ago. "Well now you have to leave, or he'll be taking my business." Kalo chuckled at that. "He loved your performance. So did I. You really have a knack for this. How quickly you reacted to the illusions, you were like a true Alvad!" Roland shrugged his shoulders, smiling at the praise. "This is your home too, now." "I don't know about that." "No, I mean it. This amazing city... it welcomes all who can accept its whimsy. You told me when we met this was your first season here. But even after that short time, would you really leave if you were threatened like we are?" "Probably." Roland admitted. "But I'm a coward that way." He stood, emptying the new mizas into his bags. "I won't tell you what to do with your family. If you left, who would cheer me on?" The two chatted a little longer, but soon the nets began to dissolve into the air. Luckily most people were able to get back to solid ground safely, though their were a few scraped knees. Kalo collected his son and they waved goodbye to Roland. He waved back, pulling his jacket back on. His mat had a few stray piles of dust from the fading nets. Lifting one side he gave the rug a couple of heavy snaps, throwing the dust into the air. When it was clean enough he rolled it back up and lifted the bundle to his shoulder. This was the worst part, trying to find his way back to his room after a performance. The mat felt heavier than ever, and there was no telling how long it would take to find the Cubacious Inn. But Ionu had been merciful today, so he ignored the pain and got to walking. Maybe the god would be kind once more. Word Count: 1,347

[Madeira Dusk]

Grades Awarded!

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Roland Eir

Skills

• Acting: 2xp
• Acrobatics: 2xp
• Observation: 2xp
• Busking: 2xp
• Flux: 1xp
• Cleaning: 1xp
• Socialization: 1xp

Lores

• Acrobatic technique: balance spotting
• Flux: learning self control
• Acting: being in the spotlight
• Adaptivity: rollin' with it

Awards & Retribution


Notes
Roland on the job! I love how uncomfortable he is, and how often he messes up. These little struggles and learning curves make it a joy to read.

If I have anything negative to say, it's that you need to shorten your posts! I could have given you much more XP if you had chopped your posts in half. As it is I did my best to milk everything I could out of it. PM if I missed something!