Solo Taking a Tumble

[Roland Eir]

22nd of Fall, 517 "And you just give him money for this?" Roland asked, his eyebrows cocked. The man nodded, flicking a copper into the tin at the front of the crowd to prove his point. Roland shook his head and watched the display. A young man in patchwork clothes tossed his hat high into the air, did a somersault, and sprang up to his feet just in time to catch and place it on his head with a flourish. The crowd clapped politely as he spun into his next move. Roland could scarcely believe it. He could do that. He'd gone out that morning hungry. There were enough mizas for food, for now, but Roland was anxious about dipping into his funds. How much did he have lefts? Less than two hundred gold? And he needed that money for lodging. Possibly even for travel, if had to leave quickly. So as usual he turned to his "last resort". Fingers twitching at his sides, he'd wandered into the first crowd he'd found in search of loose purse. But what he found instead confused him to no end. These people were just giving their money away to a man doing flips in the street. An acrobat, he mused. What a thought. As the street performer kicked off of the wall into a flip, his hand caught a railing on the building. He hung there, blowing kisses to his audience as they dropped coin after coin into his hat. Most bronze, but there were a few silvers, and Roland's eyebrows jumped as a woman in a fine tweed skirt left a single golden miza in the tin. Shooting his eyes back to the performer he analyzed his skill. The young man was flashier than Roland would have liked, but the movements he made were just a step past the tricks his friends would pull on the rooftops of Sunberth. Money for jumping, eh? Roland left that street in a hurry, pulling his jacket off and balling it up. No use working here, it was too close to the other performer. He needed a fresh audience. But what was distance in Alvadas? A few chimes later he was satisfied that he'd gone far enough. This is the sort of thing you like, right Ionu? Tricks and jumping and laughter? Then guide some wealthy folks my way. He had no hat or tin to collect earnings in, so folded his coat into a nest and set it down on the cobblestones. Cracking his neck, he eyed the space he'd chosen. Someone had parked a wagon, begun to offload some crates, and then left the whole thing there. Very Alvadas. And the perfect stage. With a huff of air he hopped up onto one of the crates. Clapping his hands and shaking out his legs, he tried to ignore the strange looks he got from the people passing in the street. People were supposed to look. That was the idea. Attract attention. For a man who had spent most of his life avoiding prying eyes this was easier said than done. He splayed his fingers, stretching them and then reforming them into fists over and over again. Just do it. Just get it over with. Just… jump. Shoving off the crate with his legs, he tucked his head down and twisted his body over itself. It was a simple flip, one he'd done many times as a child. But his heart skipped a beat mid-air. It had been quite a while. He landed on the street, his knees instinctively tucking on impact. Just like that, his first trick was done. Looking around, a few people were giving him quizzical looks, but most just kept going about their business. Alright then. He flicked up his arms, as if to say 'ta-da!' and let himself fall back. Even tucking and rolling, the hard cobblestones dug into his back during his little somersault. When he came out of it he pushed up, up off the ground. With his hands, he found the crate and pulled himself onto it to sit. "Well people," he called out, his voice ringing a little louder than he meant to. A half dozen new faces turned his way. His meager breakfast threatened to make a reappearance. "Ah. I am… uh. I am Roland. And I'm here to… entertain you?" A couple chuckles escaped the passersby. Oh gods, this was significantly harder than the tumbling part. Roland had never seen a real show before, not in theater or acrobatics or music, but he'd been present for a number of bards performing in taverns. "Prepare to be amazed!" he shouted, hopping to his feet. "Prepare… for feats of… tumbling, that you've never seen before!" Word Count: 785

[Roland Eir]

A few people rolled their eyes and started moving on. Obviously he wasn't the first to try this sort of thing before. He recalled the other performer had done very little talking, and decided maybe that was the best way of going about this. Clamping his mouth shut, he braced himself up on his hands and swung his legs up and around onto the crate. Now crouching, his eyes played about his set, looking for inspiration. Settling on the cart propped up to his right, he whistled in appreciation. This was stupid, but they weren't going to pay money for somersaults and handstands. Standing, he quickly surveyed the cart's stability. It seemed recently built, and that was good enough for him. Jumping from the crate, he found himself balancing on the wooden railing along the side of the cart. With one foot in front of the other and his arms arrayed on either side for balance, he took a couple of unsteady steps. Inwardly he swore. These boots were designed for travel, not balancing acts. Well then, if his boots wouldn't work he'd have to rely on his hands. With a dip, he placed both hands on the railing and pushed off with his feet. Immediately his malnourished limbs protested. It had been a long time since he'd done this. Oh petch. His body quivered under the strain and his legs teetered in the air, but he didn't fall. Gods save me, this might be the stupidest thing I've ever done. But a man needed to eat, and a clinking sound announced that someone had dropped some change in his coat. Forcing a smile, Roland started to lift a hand from the railing. His body rocked and tilted, and with a shout he dropped off into the cart. He landed with a whoosh of air, one leg caught up on a crate the owner had yet to unload. Groaning both inwardly and outwardly, he pulled himself up on one arm. People were shaking their heads and turning to walk away. His face burned with embarrassment as he saw those who stayed chuckling and chattering about his fall. That's it. A cool anger stoked in his mind. "Think that's funny, yeah?" he put a good face on while he stood, as if it was all a big joke. The people nodded frankly, a few called out for more falls. "Falls are good for cheap laughs, but I promised entertainment!" He returned to his starting position, standing on the crate. Let's see what you think of this. His brow furrowed in concentration as his focus turned inside himself. That hidden pool of energy, now becoming so familiar to him, was waiting. With a shallow nudge, he pricked open the barriers and unleashed a little stream. Just enough to fortify him. The pain from his fall faded away into nothingness. With a new confidence, even his anger forgotten, he looked out on the people. "Alright folks. This is what you stopped for!" Improper footwear long forgotten, he launched himself into the air and came down hard on the middle of the cart's railing. Without hesitation he pulled his legs up and planted his hands where they'd been. There was no shaking to his limbs, they were steady as the stone face on the Gaping Maw. One step at a time he crawled along the railing, his body perfectly perpendicular with the smooth wood surface. As he neared the front of the cart, where the tongues were tilted up into the air, he flipped back onto his feet. Arms out stretched, he took a quick bow. This was the Flux. His secret weapon, and now a tool to keep clothes on his back and food in his belly. Word Count: 624

[Roland Eir]

With a groan, the wagon began to tip under him. His weight had upset the balance, but before the tongues could crash into the ground Roland launched forward into a cartwheel. His palms collided briefly with the railing before springing his body the rest of the way around. Full circle, his feet landed wide on the railing. The cart tipped back, rebalancing with a crunch on the cobblestones below. The sudden shock cut Roland's smile short. His body lurched towards the pile of crates where he'd begun. Even coursing with unnatural strength and toughness, his body wasn't used to these acrobatics. Off balance, he tumbled down onto the crates. His body bounced off a corner and then hit the cobblestones. There was audible "Oooh," from his small audience as they winced in sympathy. Roland barely felt it. But he knew he would. Rolling onto his side, he gave the watchers a shrug. "Can't win them all!" he said with a laugh, relying on the inherent joy of his Flux casting to keep his mood high. After that he kept things simple. Some flips, tumbles, balancing, and handstands. Relying on his other skills he scaled a wall, his fingers finding holds in the weathered wood of the building behind him. The Flux made it a simple thing, and soon he waved down at the audience below. They cheered, and Roland's heart warmed. That was… unexpected. There was a glee in performing that he had not known before, and he laughed and waved with renewed energy. It was different from the almost chemical change the Flux brought on. This was true bliss. The door to the balcony he was perched on swung open, and an old woman shouted and cawed at him to get off her house. Obliging, he swung down and, with fierce concentration, focused the Flux into his legs. He hit the ground, tucked into a roll, and flooded the rest of his body with flux. The cobblestones dug into his body a bit, but he came out of it alright. When he rolled to his feet the audience—which had grown from a half dozen to over twenty—crowed their applause. Thanking them and bowing, he decided that he'd better cut himself off. With the Flux, less was more. There was a veritable shower of currency as the people showed their appreciation. Roland eyed the growing pile greedily, suddenly tempted to continue. But he'd already relaxed his hold on the Flux, and as its warmth left his bones he suddenly felt very, very sore. Catching at his arm with a groan, he was reminded once again of the dangers his magic posed. This was going to be another afternoon spent in bed. But his stomach would be full. Word Count: 459

[Roland Eir]

"Thank you people, thank you very much! I'll… uh… be around! With Ionu's blessing you'll stumble upon me again! Thank you! Thanks!" Positive attention was something he had very little experience with. A couple of the men stayed behind to clap him on the shoulder and wish him luck. He winced in pain, but smiled nonetheless. He answered a few questions and wished them all a good evening as he gathered up his earnings. More than anything he wanted to get back to his room and count it. Finally escaping, he pulled his room key from his pocket and focused on home. It took more than half a bell, but eventually Ionu took mercy on him and the Cubacious Inn rose up on his right. Plucking his newly bulging coin pouch from his belt, he laid out enough silver to pay for the next week. The innkeeper slid the coins off the counter and into her hand. "Come into some money, Mr. Eir?" she asked with a wink. Roland gave her a weak smile in return. "Enough to keep me going, Georgia. Might have found a new trade today." He liked the older woman. She was by far the nicest innkeep he'd ever met, and anyone who could deal what the chaos she dealt did with a smile was good in his book. "Oh, well that's nice. Who knows how much longer you could have kept going the way you were?" She gave him a look that told him she knew more than she let on. Before he could respond she was called to help another customer. She had a way of doing that. Mildly unsettled, Roland took the stairs to his room two at a time, his key leading the way. Today his room was in the far north corner. He knew it should bother him that his room's position changed every time the building shifted, but with the Newcomer's Tonic still in his system he let it slide. The key turned in the lock with a click, and he was back home. As home as he could be in this city. The door swung shut behind him. The room was a soft turquoise that reminded him of his view of the Suvan Sea from back in Riverfall. With a heavy sigh he pulled off his jacket and undid his belt. Laying them on his bed, he pulled his shirt off and threw it next to them. "Ouch." Already, a light red bruise was forming on his right arm. He could feel similar hurts appearing on his back and legs. Undercutting all of that was a deep ache in his core, a symptom of his Flux use. There was a slight twitching in his fingers, and his teeth were chattering uncontrollably. He tightened his fingers into fists. The chattering was just the cold. He was fine. With Flux use, there was always the threat of pushing too hard. Going too far. He'd felt the effects before. But today, he'd barely relied on it. Just a slight buzz to reinforce his muscles. Well, there was the fall from the building. Gritting his teeth, he pushed off his shoes and fell onto his bed. His legs would be sore tomorrow. That was fine. It was all fine. With one leg he shoved his clothes and belt onto the floor. The attached coinpouch hit the ground with a satisfying clatter. Honest coin for honest work. Was this how he'd survive? Making a fool of himself in public for money? It had been fun at the time, but thinking back he couldn't tell how much of that was the Flux and how much was the thrill of performing. But it all came back to one thing: nothing he'd earned today was illegal. His father would call him a petching idiot for his display today. Well, good. Roland wouldn't be his father. He'd make an honest living, even if that meant he'd be an acrobat. Word Count: 661

[Madeira Dusk]

Grades Awarded!

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Roland Eir

Skills

• Observation: 1xp
• Planning: 1xp
• Acrobatics: 3xp
• Acting: 3xp
• Busking: 3xp
• Flux; 2xp
• Climbing; 1xp

Lores

• Acrobat: a viable career
• Lore of the preformer's high
• Lore of keeping a crowds attention

Awards & Retribution
-Various bumps and bruises as well as the side effects of Flux. With proper care they will all clear up in 7 to 10 days

Notes
You write stage fright/inexperience very well. I got a good chuckle out of imagining our serious hero entertaining a crowd of Avalads with a summersault and jazz hands.

As always, let me know if you have questions!