The Rising Dawn, # 29— "Gather Up the Pots"

He was called Carny, and though it was clear he belonged in the Dawn Society, it was still doubtful if he could be established as a Sentinel. Craig Jabson was merely a clerk at the age of twenty-seven, and though he had all the talents of a street performer, rumor had it he was so good at what he did, he was pressed out of safely performing for anyone, being marked as an Outlier and driven from the streets by the intolerant municipality.

Pointer, Nightshift, Mech, and Parse had been debriefed on the one called Carny. Reportedly, he only had one Gift, but he had other skills that made him quite remarkable. Juggling, throwing knives, balancing on a rubber ball, and an endless bag of other tricks might not have been a strictly martial skill-set, but had many potential uses in the field.

His main Gift, however, was his voice. Carny could ‘throw’ his voice with such skill that he surpassed all those known to have such an ability, along with ventriloquism, and an eerie ability to exactly imitate the sound and voice patterns of other humans. He would often terrify people by making freakishly accurate impressions of them without hearing their voice at all, but Carny had an unquantifiable skill to discern what others sounded like by merely sizing them up. Most astonishingly, he was also reported to mimic people he hadn’t even met, being able to read voice patterns and human faces so masterfully that he could discern what other people in their lives sounded like.

Craig Jabson, incidentally, had a tendency to jabber.

Carny was saying, in a seemingly non-sequitur fashion, “...So he says, is this a racket? And I said, Idunno, but maybe there is such a thing as goodminton, after all. And so he says to me, ‘Look, Carny…”

“Say something, Glenn,” said Pointer.

“Me?” said Nightshift.

“Please suspend discussion,” said Mech in a polite, slightly mechanical voice.

Carny addressed her, “— Hey, I was wondering. Do you have a boyfriend? How do all the parts work?”

“Hardly appropriate,” said Pointer.

“Alright, I’m just yankin’ yer chain,” then he said, in Glenn’s voice, “Maybe you should simmer down,” as though directed at himself.

Glenn was still for a moment and looked at Mech. 

“This guy?” he said.

Carny said in Pointer’s voice, with exaggerated drama, “Listen: His legend lives on from the Chippewa on down to the big lake they call Gitche Gumme.”

“I can see why you’re both unenthused,” said Mech.

“Unenthused,” said Carny, “I like that! I’ll have to remember it.”

“Will you shut the hell up for one minute?” said Glenn.

Carny was silenced.

“Thank you,” said Pointer.

“Listen,” said Mech, “Your talents are— considerable. But our Society isn’t a circus. You’d be serving in the field, ostensibly without your… Fool’s Motley.”

Carny’s ‘geddup’ was an artful clash of skate-boarder punk, whimsical pins and tattoos, and children’s pop culture. 

“Well, they’re gonna be lookin’ for you guys. No one knows what to think of me.”

“You got that right,” said Pointer.

“Actually, that doesn’t quite make tactical sense,” said Parse, “once they know you’re a Sentinel, they’ll be looking for the guy that stands out.”

“Sentinel?” said Carny, with serene incredulity.

“My analysis can’t pin whether his help would feasibly be recommendable,” said Mech.

“Oh, he’s helpful,” said Parse, “He just needs Gallant.”

“Gallant!” said Craig Jabson, “I remember on TV one time, I was runnin’ on like, no hours of sleep…” and he continued an amusing anecdote that the others had little interest in.

“Why am I even here?” said Glenn.

Carny said, in Pointer’s voice, “I think we’re all wondering the same thing.”

“Enough!” said Jeremic Fury, AKA ‘Pointer’.

“With all due respect, young clown,” said Mech, “we need to do what they call, ‘talk turkey’.”

“Alright, I’m all ears.” He posed his hand for emphasis.

“Your talents are generally unmarketable. But we’ll agree to give you a stipend if you train with us to prove your value to the Rising Dawn.”

“Stipend. I assume that means money.”

When Parse related the amount, his eyes widened.

Then, he started singing excitedly,

 “Gather up the pots and the ol’ tin can,

 and the mashandthecornandthebarleyandthebran,

 and runlikethedevilfromtheexciseman! 

On the Hills of Cannamara!...”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” said Pointer.

“He’s funny,” said Parse, smiling.

“Well, he’s got plenty of tricks up his sleeve,” said Glenn.

They conferred quietly while Carny bounced around, singing an Irish folk song no one had ever heard of. They wondered if he had any practical skills that could stand a chance against Wulf’s super-soldiers or the Magister’s hoplites.

“Oh, by the way, here’s your wallets. It turns out, you’re nice people.”

The group, in astonishment, felt their pockets to confirm Carny had picked them, with the exception of Mech.

“Well, I’ll be sh*thoused,” said Pointer.

“Huhn. Practical skills,” said Nightshift.

“Oh my God. Gamer’s got some competition,” said Parse.