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The Tritons had decided to accompany Hershel on a weekend trip to the City of Miracles for a multitude of reasons.
One being that it was Hershel’s first time returning to Monte D’or since the Masked Gentleman incident and Luke felt that his mentor might need emotional support, another being that Clark and Brenda were eager to meet the one and only Randall Ascot that his friend had spoken so much about back in their university days.
Luke was set on going, and that was another reason that his parents felt the need to come. Despite their trust in Hershel to keep their son out of danger, mischief always seemed to happen when he and Luke were out and about. Considering that the infamous Randall Ascot had once kidnapped their son and endangered his life, Luke’s parents weren’t exactly eager to have him back in that city without additional surveillance.
Meeting Hershel’s friends was pleasant enough, and their demeanor falls in line to what Clark and Brenda expected. Henry is quiet, Angela is cordial, and Randall steals the show.
Randall had been awaiting their arrival at the gate to the Ledore Mansion, bouncing on his heels, and his shock of ginger hair would have given him away if his mannerisms didn’t already. No one comments on how Luke glares and strays closer to Hershel’s side.
It was easy to see why Hershel and the others were so enraptured by the man’s presence. He spoke loudly with exaggerated gestures, and his extroversion was a force to be rivaled.
Hershel falls easily into a conversation with him, and Clark joins once the small talk turns to discussions of archaeology. Their group splits into two, with Brenda steering her son to sit and have tea. His gaze remained locked on the back of Randall’s head, but at least he didn’t refuse the offered biscuits.
While the other three talked passionately about the Azran, Brenda struck up a conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Ledore.
Henry was fairly quiet, answering questions when asked but more prone to refilling tea and adjusting the plates into a more perfect orientation until Angela bats at his hands and tells him to leave it be.
Somehow, the conversation shifts from the weather to Randall and then to the Masked Gentleman. Maybe a bit too forwardly, Brenda lays her hand atop Angela’s fairer one and expresses her sympathies. Luke, when detailing his adventure with Hershel, had mentioned the blonde woman’s kidnapping. “I hope you’ve been alright since being held captive. I know it took me quite some time to get over it.”
Technically, the brunette woman didn’t think she was ‘over it.’
Even now, she preferred to keep the curtains open at night to let some semblance of light in. Darkness and cramped spaces became particularly bad in triggering her fight or flight, but it would be impolite to get into the details of her kidnapping at a social gathering like this.
Mrs. Ledore’s expression shifts from mild surprise to concern. “You were kidnapped by Descole as well?” She doesn’t remove her hand from underneath Brenda’s.
Luke shifts closer to his mother at the masked man’s name. They didn’t speak his name often in their household, as it reminded them of rather dark times. Brenda suppresses a shiver.
“Er- yes. For a few months, actually.”
Discomfort rises in her chest. She meant for it to be a one-off comment when expressing her condolences, but this was toeing the line. A social blunder, one might call it.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.” Angela twists her hand to properly hold onto the other woman’s and looks her dead in the eyes. “I was only gone for two days, I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be away from your loved ones for so long.”
She can feel her face heating up, and she murmurs some kind of placation before standing. Brenda wasn’t making a good impression like this.
“I think I’m going to get some air.” Despite the parlor’s size, it suddenly feels much smaller.
“Mom?”
“I’m alright, Luke.” Smoothing back his hair with a shaky hand, Brenda kisses her son’s forehead. “I’ll be back in a minute. Be good, alright?”
After Luke gives a slight nod, Brenda practically books it for the door. Her nervous system demanded that she flee the situation, and she was damn well going to listen.
The mansion is large, and once she’s outside she practically runs down the marble steps. If she were in the state to think about it, Brenda might have found the experience akin to Cinderella running from the ball. Thankfully, both of her flats stay firmly on her feet as she makes it down the multitude of steps and out through the gate.
The streets become busier as she strays further from the secluded area that the Ledores live in, and no one pays mind to the brunette woman rushing wherever her feet will carry her. Most people seem to be busy, caught in their own trips or the lights or the performers. Everyone has places to be, brushing against her shoulders in a neverending bustle until Brenda has passed the gallery and the shops and finds herself stopped by the outskirts of the city where the big top lies.
It doesn’t seem to be open, judging from the lack of noise beyond the regular circus music emanating from speakers around the perimeter.
Luke had made mention of the Stellar circus, expressing a distaste for the ringmaster. Supposedly he’d been about to kick out two rabbits before her son swooped in to prove that they could be trained.
Maybe Brenda could check up on the bunnies now, if only so her little excursion would have some merit in conversation. Luke would surely want to know how the pair was doing either way.
Consistent with her internal guess, the circus wasn’t open. Light filters in from the top of the tent, illuminating the center stage and a small cage off to the side. Her attention is captured by a man kneeling by the cage and talking softly with a tiger cub inside.
Another reason that Luke detested the ringmaster was for his treatment of the exotic animal in his care. Hannibal’s cage was too small, and the cub wasn’t taken care of much beyond the basics and the companionship of the last of Hershel’s old friends.
A man is speaking with the tiger and tossing him pieces of meat through the bars, crouched as close as he can get. The big cat doesn’t seem to be aggravated. In fact, Hannibal seems rather invested in what the burly man has to say.
“Erm- Excuse me?” Brenda steps closer, intent on asking where the rabbits are kept. Luke had aptly named the white one Snowball, but she wasn't sure if the other had a name.
The man whips his head around and stands. “Hullo.” The greeting is remarkably awkward compared to his stiff posture. He’s snatched up a small towel to wipe his hands with. “Did you need something?”
“I’m looking for where you keep the rabbits? My apologies if it’s a bad time…” She resists the urge to rock on her feet. The air was slowly growing thick with tension. Maybe she’d come at a bad time, or the ringmaster just found it embarrassing to be caught talking with an animal? If so, Brenda was probably the ideal person to have seen him striking up a conversation with a tiger.
Dropping the towel back onto the tray on the floor beside the plate of meat, the ringmaster huffs and dusts off his pants. “The rabbits are working on a show out in the plaza, I think.” He fixes his tie and adjusts his sleeves where they’re rolled up on his arms. One would think that the ringmaster of a fairly notable circus wouldn’t be so caught off-guard with patrons entering his establishment outside of shows.
“Right.” Brenda chews on her lip for a moment, contemplating her next move. She doesn’t actually want to go back to the plaza, far too aware of how busy it had been mere minutes before. Maybe she could excuse herself to stay here a minute longer by meeting the tiger? Luke would want an update on Hannibal’s condition too, surely.
“Was there something else, er- Miss?”
“Could I meet the tiger? My son met him the last time he was in the city, and I’m sure he’ll want to know how Hannibal is doing.”
“I suppose.”
The man hovers as Brenda draws closer to the cage, plucking at his mustache with a measure of caution.
There’s still quite a bit of red meat on the plate, likely some chopped up steak if Brenda could take a guess. “Do you mind if I feed him?”
Brenda crouches and splays her hand close to the bars. The cub sticks his muzzle through them to sniff at her palm, and his whiskers brush her fingers.
The man crouches beside her. “You’re not afraid?”
“Should I be? He’s just a cub, and I’m told that he’s quite the sweetheart.”
“Nah.” When she looks over, he’s smiling. Some of the tension bleeds from his brow. “He’s a cuddly little guy. Most people don’t look past the teeth and claws, though.”
“That’s a shame.”
Brenda does a cursory glance at the tiger cub as she’s allowed to feed him. His fur is thick and full, and his demeanor isn’t agitated. His teeth are clean, as are his eyes. Hannibal’s cage is clean and filled with toys. Having a husband that’s overly sympathetic and can communicate with animals means that she’d seen her fair share of hungry and maltreated critters.
Hannibal didn’t seem to be one. The visual information that Brenda was collecting contrasted with Luke’s account of how the circus’ ringmaster treated the poor tiger cub.
“Who takes care of him? He’s a very pretty kitty.”
Out of the corner of her eye, the burly man’s chest puffs with pride. “I take care of him! Got special permission from the ringmaster and everything!”
She blinks. This must not be the ringmaster, then?
“Ah- I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name?”
“Alphonse Dalston.” He sets out his hand, and she shakes it with the hand that hadn’t just been feeding the tiger.
The name rings a bell, but it takes a moment for the pieces to click together. She gasps, “Alphonse- You’re friends with Hershel, aren't you? Hershel Layton.”
“Aye. You know him, then?”
Positively delighted by the smallness of the world, Brenda formally introduces herself as Hershel’s friend from university and the mother of his apprentice.
He shakes her hand again. “A real pleasure to meet you, then! What are you doing all the way out here?”
“We– that being Luke, my husband and I– came with Hershel to spend the afternoon with Randall and the Ledores.”
His expression momentarily sours, and Alphonse breaks the cheery atmosphere to hand Brenda the wet towel to clean off her hands before reaching into the cage to pet Hannibal.
“Have I said something wrong?” The mood shifted so suddenly on his end, but the woman wasn’t quite sure what caused it.
“Nah.” Alphonse says all too quickly. “No.”
“Well then…” Brenda stands and dusts off her pants. “I guess I should be getting back. Will you be joining me?” At Alphonse’s grunt of confusion, she rephrases, “Are you coming with me to see Hershel?”
“Bah,” He waves her off. “I shouldn’t. I’ve got to… take care of Hannibal here.” He busies himself with tidying the try he’d taken along. “I didn’t even know he was coming anyway.”
“Hershel didn’t tell you?”
“I don’t expect him to be the one to let me know he’s coming to town. Hershel’s not like that.” Alphonse huffs, “It would’ve been nice if Ascot or Ledore gave me a heads-up, though.”
Brenda refrains from wincing. She hadn’t anticipated that Alphonse didn’t know about their presence, or that he felt excluded.
“You’re more than welcome to come along. I’m sure Hershel would like to see you too.”
Alphonse looks away, scritching Hannibal under the chin. “It’s fine. I know when I’m not wanted.”
Brenda frowns.
“It’s not like I wanted to see them anyway. Too busy taking care of this little guy and I’ve got tons of meetings.” Alphonse doubles down, but she gets the distinct impression that he’s trying to convince himself as well as her.
It takes no longer than a few seconds for the brunette woman to make up her mind and kneel back on the ground. “I’ll stay then.”
“Huh?”
“The whole reason I ended up here is that I didn’t want to be in that house. It was getting a bit stuffy, ahaha!” A bit of a lie, but what was a good conversation without a few white lies? Brenda didn’t want to explain her freakout at being reminded of her kidnapping. That would be too much. Again.
Alphonse sort of laughs with her, “Won’t someone come looking for you if you’re gone too long?”
“Probably, but Hershel can puzzle it out.” She wasn’t too worried.
Whoever came to fetch her, Brenda was planning on pushing the envelope about Alphonse coming with them. Despite his assurances, it was abundantly clear that he wanted to see his friends.
“He was always good at that.”
“Mhm. Say… even with my family’s abilities, I don’t think I’ve ever really encountered a big cat like Hannibal.” A diversion was definitely needed. “How do you take care of him, can I ask?”
Alphonse’s eyes light up like a kid on Christmas, and he eagerly launches into a spiel on pet care and grooming for a wild animal like a tiger. It reminds her rather of Clark’s enthusiasm about animals, and Brenda smiles easily. It’s not long before the thought of the others is far behind them both.