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bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

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OLD ELA FAE PROFILE


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The Fae


Basic information
    Name: Ela Innes
    Age: 135
    Race: Fae
    Other pictures: X


Physical information
    Height: 5'3" - In full-magic Fae form, she can bring herself down to about 3 feet tall, but only for short periods of time
    Weight: 130 lb. - curved hourglass figure
    Scars, birthmarks, tattoos, and other markings: Pierced earlobes and ear cartilage, plus the marking distinguishing her as one of the Defenders
    Physical disabilities: Contact with pure iron can make her physically weak


Magical information
    Magic type: Neutral magic - particularly light and illusion. She also enjoys using magic to make knots and tangles when she's feeling mischievous enough.
    Magical weaknesses : Any illusions she creates do not show in mirrored surfaces, and anyone witnessing the illusion can overcome it much easier if they realize they're being manipulated. Dark magic can weaken or nullify her abilities. Knots/tangles she makes can only be made in malleable items like vines, rope, hair, etc. Her magic also has a natural aversion to iron. Being around it too much can weaken her. She's hoping the "weapons of lore" have it mixed in enough with other materials that she's safe.
    Magical possesons: A few dice, made of bone and marked with old-looking symbols. The enchantment on them is only to prevent them from being lost or damaged, though. The actual results they roll are normal, random chance, with no fortune-telling ability. She uses them sometimes to make decisions on which way to travel, etc. It's her Fae version of flipping a coin.


Weapons, Tools, other possessions
    Weapons: Obsidian dagger
    Tools: A roll of twine kept for utilitarian purposes
    Possessions: She likely has some sort of gold or jewelry stored on her somewhere


Likes
    ♥ Freedom
    ♥ Shiny, colorful or otherwise "pretty" objects
    ♥ Warm weather and fresh air
    ♥ Climbing and exploring - sometimes she'll climb up to places even if she has room to fly instead
    ♥ Bargaining/bartering (make sure you're getting a fair trade if you try this with her)
    ♥ Satisfying her own curiosity


Dislikes
    ✖ The restriction and devastation caused by The Blight
    ✖ Iron and some of its alloys
    ✖ Sitting still too long
    ✖ Too much darkness
    ✖ Cold
    ✖ Dark magic
    ✖ Not getting her way
    ✖ Getting the losing end of a bargain


Fears

    ° The Blight winning
    ° Dark magic
    ° Iron
    ° Confinement (both in a claustrophobic sense and the confinement The Blight has placed on her freedom)


Played by: Lady Lagomorph


bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

25,075 Points
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  • Friend of the Goat 100
  • Are You Jelly? 500
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                                                  Little by little, Lonan felt like reality was tugging the carefully-arranged seams that held him together. Perhaps he should have seen some of it coming, with his recent poisoning so close to the castle and the various ways he had been unusually distracted as of late. The fact that he had not predicted some of it made it all the worse.

                                                  A few things had been going very well. His training of Lady Sasha progressed steadily. Despite how meek she seemed on her arrival, there was an internal strength slowly coming to the forefront as she adjusted to life in Avierat. If any of his training could be a factor in that, he could admit he was proud of it. Lonan had also reached a state of reduced tension with his fiancee. Of course, this was based on their mutual desire to avoid their distant nuptials, and each other, but the common ground was still shared. His positive status with Lady Fei continued, even if it required some emotional control on his part. Saaru's moods have been improving lately. While Sir Lonan was loath to admit that came from the influence of her betrothed, he appreciated seeing her break from her frayed moods and merciless schedule. And the Spy had not experienced any repeat incidents related to the fiberno poisoning. Things were, overall, consistent.

                                                  Then, they weren't.

                                                  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

                                                  Working at his desk, Lonan reached out a hand, only to find for the dozenth time that the bowl he aimed for was not there. The container for his Therian crackers had been put away. He had not purchased any of the snacks recently, nor did he intend to, and the very last basilisk cracker was buried in the bottom of his desk drawer, as usual. It could harden into a stale scrap. He had no intention of eating it. Glancing up, he silently reprimanded his hand for the slip-up, then returned to his writing until it was time for his meeting with Princess Saaru.

                                                  The loss of the Chancellor had ripped through the castle like a gale in a storm. Everyone felt its repercussions, in some way or another, and as someone trained to notice people, he was keenly aware of the differences. Lady Sasha had kept much to herself, at first. She contested that he was still missing, not proven deceased, a sentiment he could appreciate if as only a vague possibility. The princess tread a rocky path that threatened to end with Minhires claimed by the sea. The Lapises were split between muddled heartache and vengeful rage, while assuring him that the tragedy must have been completely unforeseeable on his end. Lady Fei had increased her time spent in Lonan's office to seek company.

                                                  As for the Royal Spy? While his list of acquaintances was large, his list of close ones was strikingly small. Death itself was not new to him, but he was not accustomed to handling deaths from that very small list of actual friends. Kai had been an unspoken younger brother in emotional terms, Lonan's longest close acquaintance from the ruling power's inner circles besides the Chancellor's own parents. Was grief the proper term for how he felt? That was a melodramatic word in the operas he usually so enjoyed, a means to a crescendo of emotion and spectacular action. The grief he experienced did not exhibit those qualities. It only pulled like a heavy darkness: a bleeding, energy-sapping wound he covered in thick emotional bandages. Lonan had temporarily halted most outings not related to work, aside from the visiting of the Lapises, which he felt necessary. He and Saaru had spent an evening reminiscing on their long-time friend together. Perhaps it helped temper her idea of sending a tidal wave to Minhires. Perhaps it helped stitch their emotional injuries a little.

                                                  Out of everything, what Lonan had expressed the least in all of it was the feeling of personal guilt. Deirdre Lapis seemed to have an intuition regarding it, but he had not done much open expression to her regarding the matter, particularly in the light of her desire for vengeance. In all other situations, displaying a falter of that magnitude could be a catastrophic weakness for himself and the kingdom he was protecting. So, not knowing what else to do, he simply worked, with a steady and numb pace that was never actually satisfied with his progress. If he had done any thorough, tearful form of mourning, he had chosen to do so away from any witnesses. If he ate less nowadays, that was a typical part of a grieving process, was it not? Nothing alarming. And if he found his sleep troubled and inconsistent... there was always more work to be done. He doubted his fiancee would mind seeing less of him in their living quarters. Most days, he was working at the castle or willing himself energy for work outside it. Even this new meeting he now went to with the princess was requested by him as a scheduled, official, and entirely private matter.




                                                  Lines of disappointment formed across Saaru's face. He anticipated they would. Resignation was not a possibility she would have expected or wanted to hear, not from him. “Do understand, this is not a choice I am making without due thought, nor am I intending to simply walk out of my duties immediately.” He tried to make his points despite any protests she threw against them.

                                                  “The fact of the matter is that this is not the first recent slip-up in security that could be turned back in my direction.” That could stem all the way back to Lake Andromeda, if he was honest. “And to fail at this extent... I-- … inexcusable is not a strong enough term.”
                                                  A pressure headache was forming behind his eyes, not the first in recent days. “Your highn—

                                                  “Saaru, I am emotionally compromised.”
                                                  His voice did not waver or raise to indicate as such. The steady way he looked at her indicated how certain he was, though, and even he could not completely conceal the tired darkness creeping across his lower eyelids. “You know this more than anyone here. I am not saying I cease working for the crown altogether. I am saying I feel it logical to search for someone less personally involved, for this specific position. Of course I have no intention of abandoning my work for Avierat or its cause, but we need someone in charge with less...blunders on their hand. Someone with newer ideas, and a clearer head.”

                                                  She would not hear it, not a word, and promised to destroy any letter he attempted to write to that effect. Nothing he could say could convince her to entertain the idea. Whatever doubts he felt, she declared that he was needed precisely where he was, in a general sense and for her sake. He knew Saaru well enough. After a few attempts to continue, he eventually conceded with a tired sigh. This discussion would not be won. The only way for him to truly resign would be to discard his post and walk out, and Saaru knew him well enough. He could not do that. Instead, he was left to continue his duties. Any doubts on his suitability remained buried and unspoken beyond that meeting.

                                                  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

                                                  The following weeks only steeped him in more concerns. First was the latest news from Lady Sasha. Lonan had been cautious in their training in the days up until he heard the news – something had seemed 'wrong' with her, particularly in the last one, yet somehow he had not quite been expecting what turned out to be the cause of her seeming off. When she had actually shared the news – he requested they take some time to sit and discuss it properly, in reality because he needed to take a seat. Despite Lonan's brotherly fondness for Kai, at no point in his mind had he entertained the idea that he might ever be called “uncle” to anyone. However, that was exactly how Lady Sasha was beginning to refer to him. It did not take a fellow spy to determine that Lonan was not well-versed in anything relating to small children. That added a significant element of uncertainty. There was Lady Sasha's health to mind, and the child in addition. That was another life in the castle to try to protect – a particularly helpless one, and Kai and Lady Sasha's family, of all things – and Lonan was not even sure what kind of responsibilities an uncle might be expected to have.

                                                  Second was the arrival of the new High Justice. Lonan had met with him in his first few days, under an official welcome. He had offered to provide answers to any questions the new High Justice might have. The newcomer was still in what could be considered a trial phase in his position. Lonan could provide him with details while knowing which were too risky to actually divulge. It also gave the Royal Spy chance to get some one-on-one information from the Justice. Considering the man's background, and his security access, and how little known he was, that was paramount. So far, Lonan had found nothing out of the ordinary or of particular concern. He acted polite and cordial to Justice Erikell, when they passed in the castle. Friends and enemies both needed kept close; time would tell which one this fresh face would be.

                                                  The next concern had been an increasingly long-term one for Lonan. As the heaviest bouts of his mourning lifted, he became increasingly aware again of all the time and attention Lady Fei was giving him. More so, he was forced to consider how he could handle the complete lack of subtlety behind it. If their conversations before had danced around the line of playful conversation and downright flirtation, there was no mistaking now that they tipped directly into the latter option. Part of Lady Fei's methods to improve her own spirits after the loss of Kai had been to increase the amount of time spent on fashion ideas, particularly for him. While the Royal Spy may have been internally distraught, his wardrobe had never been better. The problem was that his relative isolation in that time period had left him more emotionally starved than he realized it would. It was another mistake, perhaps, this one stemming from his inexperience in handling such close-hitting levels of sorrow. As the worst of it calmed, as the colder and darker weather of Izaal fell over the city, his felt his level-headedness slip every time Lady Fei flung herself on a seat or his desk, or gave a particularly alluring glance his way, or chose to invade his personal space again in some burst of enthusiasm. And goddess forbid she throw a pout in his direction... he was already struggling from a sense of incompetency. This additional lack of professionalism was completely out of line. Yet, he seemed less and less capable of quelling it with each passing day.

                                                  Then there was the final concern, the greatest of all in his opinion. Princess Saaru was savoring the opportunity to visit Minhires on this official invite. Lonan was not of the same opinion. This would place all of them, every single one, out of the comparative safety of being in Avierat. They would be out of Avierat and in the same place...right in the homeland of the enemy. If there had been any logical way to get them out of this... he wished he could find one. Lonan was rightfully worried, expecting a trap at every turn.
                                                  And out of all the indignities possible.... though Lady Sasha was doing a remarkable job in her husband's stead, the fact of the matter was that Minhires had mutilated Avierat's chancellor and then metaphorically invited all his friends over for tea. Even if it was not as dangerous as he knew it was, Lonan found the entire concept disgustingly insulting.
                                                  He met with General Rylen shortly before the journey, in an attempt ot discuss some potential dangers they might face and hope that at least one member of their party was also looking for the possibility of a trap. Preferably the member with the most combat experience. If having an honest talk with his half-sister was not a sign of his concern level, he had no clue what might be.
                                                  - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

                                                  And here they were, approaching Minhires' capital, worry burning itself like desert heat into Lonan's mind as their transport approached the group within the city walls. Much like Saaru, Lonan had spent a good part of it pensive. He had discussed a point or two of safety with her, he would offer some discussion with others should they need it, but mostly he listened and watched. He listened to the others, to the background noise outside the transport, to the many possibilities of problems turning in his head. And he watched for anything making unusual movements, or functioning just out of focus.

                                                  “Melitsana is up ahead. Seems we made our journey safely. Perhaps I won’t rip the Bull’s gonads off in a fit of joy.”

                                                  Saaru was still hoping for some sort of revenge in this matter. Perhaps she would receive it, perhaps not. He spoke to the group, but he was watching everything that he could. “Remember, keep alert. While this is an official diplomatic invite, such things are only words. We are a long way from Paclasa, and we have all seen the kind of trust this place has earned.” And how they treated diplomats like Chancellors.




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tab tab tab tab Mood: Cautious, anxious
tab tab tab tab Location: In the transport
tab tab tab tab With: Everyone
tab tab tab tab Talking to: Same
tab tab tab tab Outfit: This except probably not the sword scabbard
tab tab tab tab OOC: <3 U Di :3
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bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

25,075 Points
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User Image THE MONKEY
Name: Colin Isaac Davies
Circus Profession: Stilt walker/juggler maybe clown?
Age: 27 (125)
Gender: Male
Played By: Lady Lagomorph
xx ❝ Of Welsh descent but grew up in New York City with a LARGE family ❞
xx ❝ Loves physical humor and may or may not be nursing bruises at any given time ❞
xx ❝ High school dropout, class clown, and semi-professional troll ❞
xx ❝ He loves terrible jokes. Don't ask him to tell a joke. Please, for the love of sanity.
xx ❝ Is this guy ever sad? If so, you'd never know it. ❞
xx ❝ Father was a therapist: he's surprisingly good at listening to problems confidentially ❞

bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

25,075 Points
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                              Test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test

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                              Test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test test

bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

25,075 Points
  • Very Thankful 25
  • Friend of the Goat 100
  • Are You Jelly? 500
Monkey profile

                                          xxxxxxxxx✪ THE MONKEY ✪
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    User Image


                                            xxxxxxx FULL NAME Colin Isaac Davies
                                            xxxxxxx NICKNAME(S) Col, Monkey Boy, Monkey Butt, Monkey Face, See-No-Evil, Hear-No-Evil
                                            xxxxxxx AGE 27 (125)
                                            xxxxxxx GENDER Male
                                            xxxxxxx CARAVAN TRAILER ASSIGNMENT Trailer 1, Room 1, Bed 2



                                            xxxxxxxxx✪ BUILT TO AMAZE ✪
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                                            Appearance (human form)
                                            Colin is pale in complexion with a slim build, his shoulders and upper torso being the only spots that ever show real muscle definition. At 5'8", he's not the tallest male in the bunch, but he's not remarkably short. He has deep blue eyes that usually have a sharp or alert look to them. A pair of glasses sit on his nose nearly constantly; he's terribly farsighted without them. Colin's hair is a dull bluish tone of black and usually falls in ruffled layers. Under most circumstances, he has a smile on his face that pulls up more on the right than the left. The smile usually falls under one of three categories: casual and relaxed, wide and amused, or tight and nervous. The upper part of his left ear is missing a sizable chunk, and the hair around his left temple conceals some horizontal scars. Additional round or nondescript scars can be found on his torso and back.

                                            His zodiac curse made his fingers slimmer and slightly longer than they were before. He's rather proud of his sharp, extended canine teeth, though he usually wear decorative caps on them during performances, so the shapes look like part of his costume. Alas, his animal form only sports the basest nub of a tail, so no shape of the kind made its way to his human self. He has noticed the tops of his feet become hairier, though.

                                            In dress, he usually is casual and comfortable off-stage. He doesn't wear a lot of shorts. Most outfits feature pants instead, with sneakers or boating shoes. On top, Colin typically has on a shirt and possibly cardigan or sweater when cold. He's quite fond of "dressing to the nines," - actually, he finds the Ringmaster's taste in clothes enviable - but he doesn't get a lot of use out of the one good formal suit he keeps. In contrast to his private self, he loves going all-out for stage outfits and isn't opposed to fine fabrics, costumes, colors, patterns, or even sparkle.
                                            Colin and his perpetual smiling:
                                            User Image User Image


                                            Appearance (zodiac animal form)
                                            Colin's animal form is a Celebes crested macaque. Covered in black fur, with a distinctive tuft atop the head, the only human part of him remaining is his eyes. They stay blue rather than reverting to the typical macaque brown. The perpetual smile is more subdued; if he grins big enough to show his canines in macaque form, consider it a negative sign. His macaque cheeks can store food (or whatever else he decides to store) like small pouches. When transformed, he stands under 2 ft. tall and weighs about twenty pounds. His front limb and shoulder/pectoral strength is pronounced. While he can climb like any macaque in monkey form, he's not as much of a tree-dweller as many other species.

                                            Despite the fact that his tail is only an inch long, he's adamant that he is still a monkey in scientific terms.
                                            User ImageUser Image




                                            xxxxxxxxx✪ COMING TO TOWN ✪
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                                            Baby Colin was born in Wales around 1893: he lost track of the exact day and year over time. He was the 5th of what would eventually be 8 children in his family. His father had was a phrenologist, but he took an interest in Freud's newer talk therapy methods and moved the brood to a middle-class neighborhood in New York City, seeking opportunities in that field. The boat ride over encountered bad storms. Some of Colin's earliest memories included that journey, and he hated ships with a passion ever since. Growing up with 7 brothers and sisters meant that life in the house was chaotic, attention a fighting struggle. Even using the family's piano for practice meant adhering to a schedule, His relationship with his siblings was mixed. While he got along with most of them, his two older brothers liked to beat him up. He found more positive attention trading jokes or pranks with his third and youngest brothers. The pranks were surefire ways to get their mother or father to notice them. When his older sisters grew weary of aiding with child care, he imitated his father's talk therapy to give them an emotional break. 

                                            In school, his pranking and joking antics doubled. The classroom was one of the few spaces he didn't share with a sibling in some form or other, and he took to being an instigator instead of just an accomplice. When he was sixteen, one of his pranks went horribly wrong (that bucket was supposed to tip over and soak the teacher, not knock him unconscious). His parents determined he should be sent to a military school or another strict environment for reformation. He ran away instead, ending up along the more questionable streets of the city. He found a living working for assorted vaudeville theaters, burlesque halls, and nightclubs, eking out a living on menial chores and manual labor. On occasion, one of the vaudeville acts would require an extra. Actors on the side taught him how to juggle, how to fake a fall or perform other simple stunts, and even how to sing a little. He used his piano skills when needed and grew fond of the ragtime sounds as the 1910s rolled on.

                                            He was drafted into the Great War from 1917 to 1918. When he returned, a piece of his ear did not come home with him, and anyone who knew him previously said that the left side of his face "looked funny" when he spoke and smiled. He found many of his old workplaces changing to movie theaters or altering for the jazz and blues creeping into music. Gone were days of juggling and pratfalls, and some of his old haunts grew seedy. When Prohibition hit, much of his employment turned to underground locations: speakeasies with bad gin and dim lighting. Employers ranged from the honest everyman to low-level mob bosses, and his treatment by each varied. He gained a reputation for being a discreet worker, though, and one showed him how to make moonshine and bathtub gin. He used that to bolster his bank account and keep himself in the good graces of his creditors and harsher bosses.

                                            A couple years into Prohibition, his life had hit a comfortable rut. He was making enough money to survive. He had a girl; he couldn't say they were a couple, but they had good laughs together. He cooled off from his work days with a smoke and card game. It was in the spring that year a pal invited him to see a circus on the outskirts of the city. Colin took a flask of his best moonshine and tagged along. The show itself was fun: impressive acts led by a dapper ringleader. But he was particularly drawn to one performer, a willowy woman with bright eyes and a pair of stilts. She entertained the crowd, juggling beanbags and bowling pins between performances. She must have caught him staring, as one of the beanbags was pitched his way, intending to make him fumble and miss it for a laugh. He caught it instead, and the glint in her eye grew sharper. In a few seconds, she'd pitched him the remaining beanbags, and he gave them a casual juggle before tossing them back. She caught them, laughed, and performed a trick twice as hard as he could ever manage. She was magnificent.

                                            He let his friends leave without him after the show, managing to seek out the performer. They spent the evening splitting his moonshine while she tried to teach him how to walk on the smallest of her stilts. He could barely hobble on them by the end of the evening, so he came to the next's night's show, and the one after that, hanging around afterward while she showed him some of the basics of her trade. It didn't matter that he had sometimes had to find underpasses or alleys to sleep between shows, when his place was too far away for trips. It didn't matter that he was neglecting work. It didn't really matter she was always busy with "other engagements" any time but after shows, or that she always watched another regular in the audience during shows instead of him. She met Colin earlier than usual after her second-to-last performance and gave him an offer: a job, if he would think on it and tell her after their final one the next night. He didn't have to think about much. With a final trip into town, he grabbed most of his belongings in a rusted suitcase and met her beside the tents the next night. A contract was signed, a welcome aboard was given, and she planted a lipstick-tinted kiss on the cheek before she left, saying she had to meet someone. Colin settled in to his new life. The Monkey seemed a fitting new title for him, and he got a good laugh at the discovery of his new shape.




                                            xxxxxxxxx✪ DREAM BIG ✪
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                                            Cheerful
                                            With only the occasional bout of fear or nerves, Colin maintains an upbeat attitude. It's rare to find him sulking at all, and any negative displays of emotion usually have a good reason.

                                            Adaptable
                                            Rolling with the punches of life has been his specialty for over 100 years. He adjusts and adapts as needed and can be flexible depending on what a person or event needs.

                                            Flippant
                                            Informal to his core, he prefers a casual approach to lifestyle and often seems as if he doesn't take serious situations seriously enough. He can try to tone down his energy when being spoken to privately, but the nonchalant attitude worsens in a group. Ill-timed jokes can sometimes make him seem callous.

                                            Submissive
                                            Among the last to stand up to a situation that's wrong, fighting has never been his style. He prefers to endure or flee instead. It's kept him satisfied enough with his curse situation, but he's the wrong person to come to when another performer needs someone to "have their back."

                                            Goal
                                            Colin has so far been fascinated with the changes he's seen in the world over the time he's been alive, even the small glimpses they get from their world in the Circus. His current only disappointment is how they're not allowed to keep up with technology, as he'd like to know more about some of the things he's seen. Has anyone else seen customers toying with those flat phone-things that play movies?

                                            Likes
                                            Positivity
                                            Physical Humor
                                            Juggling
                                            Piano
                                            Singing
                                            Bad/outdated jokes and riddles
                                            Homemade liquor
                                            Stargazing


                                            Dislikes
                                            Unexpected loud thundering/banging noises
                                            Aggression
                                            Severity
                                            Ships and Boating
                                            Sadness



                                            xxxxxxxxx✪ FEEL THE MAGIC UP CLOSE ✪
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                                            Circus Profession

                                            Stilt Walker/Juggler
                                            Colin's act works best between more significant shows or even during intermissions. He keeps the crowd entertained with his antics and isn't afraid to encourage their participation or risk a minor injury here and there for the sake of the show. Bruises can heal, after all.

                                            Skills

                                            Performing
                                            Well before he knew of the zodiac circus, he worked in the background in vaudeville acts. He's fond of piano playing and singing, and he knew enough juggling to work it into his act once he did join.

                                            Listening
                                            Despite his talkative ways, he's very good at keeping secrets or otherwise listening to problems. Being unable to tell others of the circus' true nature has bothered him less than many other members.

                                            Distilling
                                            He still knows how to make moonshine and bathtub gin. You can always find a small stash among his things and some new being made nearby, though the trailer sizes limit how much he can produce. He's usually willing to share.

                                            Zodiac Blessing

                                            Dexterity
                                            Colin is a tactile and visual learner who picks up on tasks quickly. The zodiac curse enhances this to a vast degree, allowing him to perform acts on stilts better and produce even more complicated juggling routines. The monkey's dexterity also ensures a stronger grip. He may drop things in practice when timing is off, but it's rare he has a butterfingers moment from something slipping out of his fingers. While the curse improved his upper body strength somewhat, it's only just above normal for his body shape and nothing particularly impressive or supernatural.

                                            Mimicry
                                            Monkey see, monkey do. He's good at imitating what he sees, or at least doing a parody imitation of it. You'll never find him flying through the air or balancing on a tightrope, but he can do a good charade of it on the ground. He uses this ability sometimes during his act to include comedic references to the (admittedly more impressive) other performances. Off-stage, he often imitates other people's gestures and postures without thinking.




                                            xxxxxxxxx✪ THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH ✪
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                                            EXTRA STUFF

                                            »His dislike of loud banging noises is really more of a traumatic response, especially if caught off-guard. He's been known to find a high spot in those situations and huddle with his hands over his ears. He'll come down once the sound stops and bounce back to normal. Don't scream at him to come down: monkey instinct means he'll only scream back louder. As for the human cannonball's act... he's learned to flinch through it. «

                                            »He has a ridiculously high alcohol tolerance. Be careful trying his homemade brew. It might burn off your nose hairs. «

                                            PLAYED BY

                                            »Lady Lagomorph «


bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

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ANNIE POST STYLE


User ImageUser Image
                                                  Location: Ground Floor of the Hotel / Vegas Strip
                                                  tab tab With: Khali
                                                  tab tab tab tab Talking to:
                                                  Khali
                                                  tab tab tab tab tab tab Wearing:
                                                  Dress + Headband + Sandals + Hand purse
                                                  _____________________________________________________________________


                                                  The promise of paid-food food and drinks led Annie to give a little fist-pump with her free hand. “Fair trade.” Really, she knew getting involved had been her decision in the end, but she wouldn’t turn down some compensation for her efforts. Though she made a mental note not to go overboard. She was an opportunist, but not a complete abuser of advantage...so she told herself.

                                                  With Khalia letting the Rat lead, they were most of the way to the entrance doors when the question of a gift for Tobi came up. She stopped walking for a moment and looked back at her current partner in crime. “Wh--?” A gift for Tobi? Truth be told, she hadn’t even thought about the fact that he would be affected. Should she feel guilty that he was? Probably. Did she? Actually… yes, a little. Annie was known to snidely blame spates of ill luck from on the Cat from time to time, but this? No, this was entirely from decisions made by herself and Khalia. Whatever bad luck had played against Al, their actions were independent of it. Annie told herself she’d take her share of the finger-pointing if it came to that. But so far as an apology gift idea for him...

                                                  “I dunno.” She turned and continued toward the exit. Despite racking her brain and its love of junk and knick-knacks, she really couldn’t come up with anything. “All I can think of with him and stuff off the top of my head is… I dunno. Hoodies?” Annie knew him and Parker the least out of her Cirque-mates. Again, largely her own fault. A voice in the back of her head told her she should work on that. ‘Eventually,’ she told herself. “I’ll think about it.” Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure if having more time would help with a gift idea.

                                                  The emotional discomfort was buried under a look of enthusiasm about the zipline. The little fist pump at the thought of food returned twice as enthusiastically. “Lord Almighty! Food first, but that’s a must-visit! Think they have maps somewhere around here? Maybe in one of the stores.” She looked at some of their fellow tourists for a moment. “All the places we go, seems no one uses maps anymore.” Every time she looked around this tourist destination, it seemed people were focused on t the small electronics in their hands for everything instead. Phones, right? She rarely heard people actually talking on them, but they looked at them so much.

                                                  The air outside the hotel was dry, bone dry, and filled with the sounds of traffic from the Strip - pedestrian and otherwise. The front of their hotel featured a vast water feature surrounded by palms and other greenery. It was interesting, but not what Annie was after. Past the fountain and out to the Strip itself: it was a sensory inundation, and she had to stop again and take a moment to absorb it. Lights, screens, people, chaos everywhere - this was a polar opposite to their technologically-minimal lifestyle in the Cirque trailers. It was almost overwhelming, even for her, but that was the point of Vegas, wasn’t it? Everything was so splendidly gaudy. For now, she forgot about the discomfort of not having her old trailer room, the lack of familiarity. She could push that aside for now, if she turned her attention to everything else.

                                                  With no concept of where anything was, she turned left down the main walk. Everything was a curiosity. She wanted to see that place. And that one. She wanted to stop and watch the brilliant screens that were flashing ads and the names of guest performers she was too out of touch to know. “We need a map just to mark what to see while we’re here, else I’ll just say everything.” A hotel on the other side of the street had some sort of water setup, too. ‘The Venetian,’ ...wait. “Hold it. Is that a boat ride?! That would be on her must-visit list for later.

                                                  After about five minutes or so of walking, the water features of another hotel fell away on their side of the street. Treasure Island. Much like their Mirage hotel, it jutted straight into the air like a rectangular beacon. Palms trees, a fake ship - some built-in lower portion that was painted an oddly bright red to make it stand out. Waterside dining...Wait. “Criminey.” Señor Frog's. The name lit up above the red restaurant, with a large fake frog perched atop one side of the building. It looked like exactly the type of place for informal food and ridiculous themed drinks. Tacky. Possibly dumb. It drew her like a magnet. Annie hadn’t intended to find something reminiscent of their recent stay in Toad Suck, but the ridiculousness of it made up her mind. She looked back to Khalia with an amused smirk. “Dinner. There.”




                                                  _____________________________________________________________________


We're all rats in a maze,
tab tab and we fall around,
all the way around.

bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

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COLIN POST STYLE


User ImageUser Image


                                                      Location: Hotel Lobby || Vegas Strip
                                                      tab tab With: Alex and Ashkii
                                                      tab tab tab tab Talking to:
                                                      Mostly Ashkii
                                                      tab tab tab tab tab tab Wearing: This outfit

                                                      _____________________________________________________________________



                                                      The subtle cues the Rooster provided indicated that Colin's presence wouldn't be completely unwelcome. That was good enough for him. He briefly broke into a trot to catch up to the much taller man, letting the Rooster lead the way and stuffing his hands in his pockets to control fidgeting.

                                                      The Vegas streets were unfamiliar to him. The arid climate was, too. But the sounds and smells of the Strip washed over him like a desert-warmed blast of nostalgia: good nostalgia, bad nostalgia, hand-in-hand. Vegas was just a variant of the big-city vibe, a sleepless mix of the average Joe and the desperate junkie from the back alleys. Add in the casinos everywhere, and Colin considered it a glitzed up, brightly-lit variant of his old haunts in New York. It was modern and commercialized, but the core was dollar bills, bets, broads, and booze.

                                                      "You're not smoking."

                                                      Ashkii's observation earned a quick laugh that brought the Monkey back to the here-and-now. “Not yet,” he admitted. “But give me time.” Maybe they didn't have the most enlightened conversations, but his long-time trailermate knew his habits enough. Put Colin in a questionable city surrounding, and the craving for nicotine grew with each polluted breath. “The hotel gave a no-no-no to most of the indoor smoking. Don't even sell 'em in the lobby: casino or outside only. I'm on the hunt.” He said the last line as if sharing an exciting secret. The Big Apple accent was creeping back into his talk. "If you see any, let me know. Just twitch in the right direction." He got the gist that none of the three of them really knew where they were going, specifically, but there were no questions or complaints about that as he followed.

                                                      After some walking, the bigger man turned to look at Colin and Alex. There was uncertainty in his posture. Why would Ashkii look nervous? Should Colin be nervous, too? A tightness in his chest balled up the hands in his pockets, and he slid back a step to marginally increase the distance between them, just in case. In case of what? He wasn't certain, but Ashkii was a personal space kind of guy, and a little respect of that could only help, right? Tall Feathers asked about the location of the 'casino,' and added something about names. It sounded peculiarly introspective. Colin's head tilted again in contemplation, but the muscle tightness loosened up. He thought, for a second or two, and he glanced sideways at the Snake as if realizing something had been in discussion earlier, before he turned himself into the third wheel of the bicycle.

                                                      Now Ashkii was once more a brief jog away. “New names is the modern American way,” he commented as he caught up. He kept pace behind and to the side of the other man, using an awkward combination of long and quick strides. “Take something that was already there, then throw on some sequins and a title hot off the press. New Amsterdam? No, New York. Theater? Tear down the stage to put in a movie screen. Bar go out of business? Reopen it with a new name. Hire the old grunts for the same jobs in worse conditions. 'Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.'” Hadn't he heard that in a song somewhere?

                                                      He took a deep breath of the Vegas air and let it out with a quiet sigh. The smile on his face was placid, but his eyes darted every time they passed a side street, as if he expected someone to pop out from them. He let some silence pass to see if Snake Boy wanted to input anything in regards to that topic: anything less metaphorical and more direct. “Places like this, they're like an actress who grows too old for the young lady gigs. She gets a new manager, makes a new stage name, goes after different roles, and almost no one's the wiser. Oh, her face is the same under the makeup. It always was. But never tell the audience. They like to be fooled, even when they don't know it.”

                                                      Of course, none of that helped Ashkii's initial question about where the casino was. In that, he let Alex have first dibs on commentary. Anything he would provide was probably a more proper explanation, anyway, and not the twisty-turny way Colin was thinking. The Monkey wasn't entirely in the moment. His eyes still flitted around, mind half on the conversation and half somewhere else.

                                                      "The casino is everywhere," he said. "There's one in the hotel. One in that place," his head nodded sharply at one of the tall, flashy buildings. "One across the street. Probably one in every basement on this block. Follow the smell of sweat and cigarettes, and you'll find it. Look for the dead-eyed regulars who forget what day it is, or the girls too pretty to be real, or the men in suits you couldn't afford with a month's paycheck. Just don't follow the men in the suits. They don't like being tailed."

                                                      _____________________________________________________________________


I'm only jokin' - I don't believe a thing I've said
tab tab What are you smokin'?
I'm just ********' with your head
tab tab tab tab Only a crazy little thing I read

tab tab tab tab tab tab Only a crazy little thing I read

bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

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OLD OREN POST STYLE



User Image


                                            Oren Keane tab tab tab Gunner
                                            ────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

                                            Mood: Brawling tab tab Location: The King's Hall | Back alleys
                                            tab tab With: Tommy | Himself | Captain Angelia tab tab Talking to: Tommy | Himself | Captain Angela
                                            tab tab tab tab Current Theme: Flannigan's Ball

                                            ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────


                                            Tommy's response regarding luck elicited a low chuckle. As for what he was doing hanging out around the older man, he shrugged. Finishing off his glass of port, he nodded over at the raucous card table. "Could be I'm just working myself up to fit in with the crowd over there. It'll take more than one glass, but I'll try to leave you and Madame Fortune to your own devices when I can." How long he intended that to be, he didn't say, just paid the barmaid for a second cup.

                                            His next glass had just arrived when the card table erupted into chaos. Oren turned to see most of his crewmates at the table slinging fists against other men there, Ren pulling himself away and holding his face. It was a hell of a fight to watch, and Oren drained his second cup and set it down, considering where to jump in and support his shipmates, when things went south. The King's Hall was a mess of fighting with no clear start or end. Even if he hadn't been interested in fighting, he wouldnt' have been given a choice. Blows were traded back and forth, Oren giving a few men strikes to the gut or face he didn't envy and receiving a few on his own self in retaliation.

                                            "Arrest them all!" Soldiers? "Where the devil did they come from?" They were blocking the main entry, turning their weapons on anyone they could grab, and Oren punched and kicked his way back to the far edges of the room. He heard the captain shout above the din, somewhere behind him, and he tried to follow where it had been. He didn't make it out in the initial wave of people escaping with her. The way out was filled with a person or two in pursuit by the time he made it back. Half-smirking, he used their turned backs to his advantage and slammed a fist into the back of one neck, then another. He was nearly grabbed as he used someone's back to step over and reach the alleys. Then he made a proper break for it, grunting on the first few steps as he realized one of the hits he'd taken had bruised his torso. "Má sorte," he gritted to himself as he went. He didn't like leaving buildings a different way than he came in.

                                            This part of town wasn't as familiar to him as some others, but he could route the way back to the docks well enough...after hiding in shadows long enough to ensure he was running on his own. Turning a corner, he heard the sound of swift feet approaching too quick to run away and was prepared to think of alternates, until he recognized the face on the approaching person. "Ah, Captain!" He flashed a hurried smile, even if it was a battered in spots. "Well, there's a welcome turn to things at least." He fell into line with the others who had made it out with Angela and joined them heading for the ship.

                                            ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────



User Image tab User Image tab User Image


bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

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OLD ELA POST STYLE

User Image
I walk the maze of moments, but everywhere I turn to
tab tab Begins a new beginning, but never finds a finish


                                    ─────────────────────────────────────────
                                    tab tab tab Ela the Fae
                                    ─────────────────────────────────────────
                                    Mood: Curious
                                    Location: In the cavern at the pole
                                    With: Everyone
                                    Talking to: Kate, and technically everyone
                                    ─────────────────────────────────────────
                                    This color is Fae speak tab tab tab tab tab The humans can understand this color

                                    Ela was tired of the cold. She wasn't made for this.

                                    Perhaps the vast cavern they were all in sheltered them from the worst of the biting wind outside and was more comfortable than many exposed parts of the pole. But the fact remained that the entire pole itself was colder than most other parts of The Veil. Ela had even been forced to forgo her preferred barefoot nature after fleeing to it, donning a pair of boots for the first time in a while. A cozy shawl wrapped around her shoulders, drawn tight against the chill. The cavern had many things to distract her attention: The strange fellowship of creatures banded together around her, the illuminated symbols around the space, and even her own current state. Uncertain if the summoning would need their own magics to boost it, her Fae form was out in full force, hair raising off her shoulders as it glowed gold like her skin and eyes. Yet still, despite her focus, the back of her mind wanted to walk away and find a sunny, warm summer somewhere. If only there was a somewhere left to go.

                                    Her internal wishes dropped once a new light flashed, and it soon became apparent that their summoning was a success. Then she refocused, taking a step back as the newcomers arrived in various states of disarray and began flailing about. 'So, these are our "Humans," then?' She observed them for a moment, half-interested in them and half-interested in the strange objects some of them were holding. One looked like a sort of instrument. That looked like fun. A male-looking human was waving around what she perceived was a weapon, though its shape was unfamiliar. Her mouth screwed up into an unimpressed face at that, not knowing quite what the strange chunk of material was capable of. Though summoning a fighter to wield these foretold weapons did make sense.

                                    What was that flashing? Her boots made soft sounds as she moved around some of the other humans to seek out the source. Ning, Luciane, and Zuleika introduced themselves to the humans, but Ela was busy, having worked her way over to where one of the mroe feminine-looking humans was holding a device in front of her face. It was unfamiliar, and it made funny whirring noises as she used it. But best of all, it had a bright near-blinding light that flashed from it as it was used.

                                    "Give me that." Forgetting she was still in full-glowing form, she failed to make herself intelligible, but her tone sounded very much like a child being tempted with a delightful looking toy. She didn't actually wait for permission, snatching the item out of the humans hands and fumbling with the various parts. Her glow faded as her concentration moved away from her own magic and tried to figure out the parts of the device. By the time she finally got the item to make the flash she wanted, she looked practically human, save her obvious wings and pointed ears. She laughed once triumphantly, only then noticing the marking on her hand, and the similar one on the invention's owner. "Well, would you look at that? It seems we're to band together." So she ended up with the human using the flashing item. Appropriate. Now, what was she forgetting?

                                    Oh, right. Her name. "I'm called Ela," She announced with one hand up. "And yes, I'm sure you humans must be very, very confused right now. Ning can do a splendid job of explaining it. Just know that you all have just become very, very important." Her own attention was still drawn by the device though. She waved it over at its original owner. "So, what is the purpose of the bright light? Distraction? Defensive spell? I'm afraid light spells don't work very well on me. It's like fighting a professional with her own tricks."



bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

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https://media.vanityfair.com/photos/57586634e5ce54f83ee20d88/master/pass/brienne-jaime-game-of-thrones.jpg

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Wheezing Bunny

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                                                Erikell had never been to the capital of Avierat, had never stepped foot on the palace grounds, had never particularly thought he would see the highest courtroom first-hand. Yet here he was, High Justice - for the time being – actually sitting in the chair at said courtroom. It was an honor, technically. It was exhausting, certainly.

                                                Accompanied by some castle officials on his journey to Paclasa, the journey was spent receiving an overwhelming rundown of the inner workings of the castle – the most important people he would meet, the places he was permitted to go, the names he was expected to remember. Taking notes during the jostling of travel was not ideal. In fact, it gave him minor bouts of motion sickness a couple times. But there was too much for him to absorb simply by listening. He may have been out of school for many years now, but homework never fully went away, did it?

                                                His actual entrance to the castle was made without any fanfare: the young judge was merely ushered in when his transport arrived. He was happy about that, though he soon realized the lack of pomp stemmed from a simple urgency to shove the long-overdue work on someone as quickly as possible. Before Erikell saw the chambers where he would be staying, one of the castle's staff members from the justice department showed him his new workplace instead. Main courtroom, adjoining back rooms, and the paperwork. So. Much. Paperwork. He expected a great deal of that, considering the top-level job and the gap left by the previous Justice. Still, he underestimated the quantity. From what he had been told, the princess herself had been handling much of it in the meantime, yet, “I'm certain someone could burrow into that mountain of papers and live there.” The light joke fell flat. After informing him when someone would return to show him to his living quarters, the new Justice was shown where the stacks of paperwork began and basically left to his new job.

                                                That room-sized pile of work absorbed him for most of his time after that, almost literally. Sometimes he used the large, very fine desk set aside for him, but it could only fit so much on its impressive surface. Besides, the high-backed and high-armed chair that matched it didn't permit some of the ways he preferred to sit when he was concentrating, or if he had the urge to wrap a blanket or two around him when the candles indicated nighttime was settling in. So, sometimes he sat at his proper work desk, only with a leg over the side to slump over a smudged scribble, or his back hunched to look carefully over fine details. Just as frequently, he sat on the floor, surrounded by his reading material, or found a corner with sunlight to crash in instead. One wall had a nice stained glass window that cast some very pleasant blue and red light, when the parchment's standard off-white grew dull.

                                                The rest of the castle was still unfamiliar. He was given the old High Justice's quarters. They did not feel like home. Yes, he slept there. He ate there sometimes, when he decided to take a break from straining his eyes to death. He even brought some supplies for his hobbies along with him, finding places for them in the chambers, but it was not enough. Time would have to pass to quell that feeling that he was usurping someone else's room, or if he even stayed in the position long enough for that. The hobbies themselves went more neglected than he hoped. There was a good deal he wished to do, but never enough hours. Paclasa in particular was known to have an important observatory outside the main city's bounds. He would have to get a handle on his endless to-read pile before he could hope to visit it, though.


                                                - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


                                                Most others in the castle reacted to his presence exactly as he expected. Cold stares, silence, and blunt responses were normal. Princess Saaru sometimes looked as if sstabbing him in the face would be a very likable idea. Total avoidance was just as commonplace: avoidance of personal space, of eye contact, of even acknowledging him, sometimes. He had prepared himself for all this; he could handle it, really. Really.

                                                The Royal Spy did not avoid him, sending a request to meet with Erikell within the first day of his stay. Sir Lonan came across as cordial, and he offered to answer any particular questions the Interim High Justice had since his arrival. “Well, I have been wondering about the locations to store the records when I'm finished with them...” Erikell had several questions, in fact, and he was provided with responses that seemed appropriate. However, he noticed halfway through their conversation that he was answering many more questions than he was asking. 'This isn't really a conversation, is it? This feels very much like an interrogation.'

                                                He did receive a welcoming letter from Lady Sasha Mae Lapis, one of the names he'd noted to remember before he arrived. She was one of the Sky People, and the wife of the late... er, missing?...Chancellor. The nicely-written note had been in his new chambers the first time he was shown to them. Her in-person greeting soon after provided the same genial notion. "Good morning, New Justice. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

                                                Hopefully Erikell's impression in return was not terrible. He was not visually prepared for formal company, with his hair needing combed and lacking the time to shave his stubborn facial scruff. But Lady Sasha's greeting sounded genuine, and his expression was the same in return. “Good morning, and likewise. It's an honor to meet you.” She was a Sky Person, after all, and the first friendly face he'd come across here. “I'm sure I don't look like it is,” what with the unshaved 'I need a hairbrush' state he was in, “but it definitely is.”

                                                In the brief time he had been at the castle, she was certainly the one person he felt most welcome around. He considered himself on unstable, neutral ground with essentially everyone else. He knew very little about the rest of the Sky People and other castle inhabitants and had exchanged few words with them. That was yet to come, he supposed. It was still early days. He would be happy enough to get past the dagger eyes in the hallways, at this stage. As for his High Justice work beyond paperwork, there had been little time as of yet for him to preside over many cases. When he did, he felt his heart race and had to swallow down the uncertainty of stepping into that high, high seat. Intimidating. That was the perfect word for it. His decisions were followed, but sometimes he could see the wrong sort of glint in someone's face. It was the sort of glint that was waiting for him to mess up, to do something that would give them an excuse to defy him. He was determined not to give them that crack in his work ethic. Considering what happened to the previous High Justice, he could not afford to.


                                                - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


                                                It was warm inside the transport. Well, if Erikell was being completely honest, it was probably hot, but that translated to warm for him. The very fact that he was here was still confusing to him. True, he was filling the High Justice position for the castle, and the innermost circle of the castle had been invited on this venture. But he wasn't a permanent seat, and he was still adjusting to it. He wasn't certain what good his presence would do out here. He could try, he supposed, and at least get a first-hand look at Minhires while he was at it. He was grateful to have Lady Sasha as his seat partner for the journey. At least he trusted she wasn't tempted to shove him out the door and leave him behind.

                                                Every glimpse seen outside as they went had, admittedly, captivated him. The arid territory was unfamiliar. His eyes had never looked on anything quite like it. Vast lands of nothing expanded out to the horizon, only interrupted by patches of hardy desert plants or the hints of civilization. He'd never seen any desert at all, let alone this place. Of course, that was largely because his mother and grandparents would likely be killed if they ever came back here. How much of a threat did that mean for him? Probably too much. It left him worried, if he thought about it...so he tried not to think about it.

                                                Despite the strange place, much was familiar in a vague, nostalgic way. The way the light caught and flared when dust blew in the wind reminded him much of the patterned textiles his mother and grandparents often liked to wear. The way the heat seemed to ring and sing on the wind hearkened back to some old songs they knew by heart. He did not know this place, but something instinctual tugged in the back of his memory on seeing it. Taking mental notes during much of the journey, he hoped he would be able to transfer some of the inspiration into a painting or five when they returned. If they returned?

                                                'No, when. In theory, he should be okay. The royal family had permitted their only daughter to join on this diplomatic trip. Surely they would not do that if the chances of this whole thing being an inescapable trap of some sort were too high, right? And while much of his family was considered wanted, he himself would probably be little leverage against them.

                                                "Have you ever been here before? It seemed beautiful the way they described it. Back home we had deserts like this, big and wide." His seat partner pulled him out of his pondering – he had missed most of the conversation up until then. “Hm? Oh, no. Definitely not. My family isn't exactly good friends with the ruling party out here. I've heard of it, but I've kept far away from it on purpose.” He gave a light smile that his any uneasiness that brought back to him. Heard of it was an understatement. He knew old tales and songs and cultural nuances from here that a normal Avierat citizen would not. But sitting in a stuffy transport full of uneasy, tenuous-at-best allies was not the time to bring them up. Perhaps some other day. “You have places like this back where you're from, too? I'd like to hear about them when you can manage.”
                                                He let the conversation in the space flow away after that, listening instead of providing much and bucking up his courage as they entered the city and found people waiting for them.

                                                He could do this.


                                                tab tab tab tab ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
                                                tab tab tab tab Mood: Nervous but keeping a brave face
                                                tab tab tab tab Location: In the transport with the rest of the crew
                                                tab tab tab tab With: Everyone
                                                tab tab tab tab Talking to: Lasy Sasha
                                                tab tab tab tab Outfit: This one!
                                                tab tab tab tab OOC: My cinnamon roll bby is here <3
                                                tab tab tab tab ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬


bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

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__________

___ SOME PEOPLE ARE MEANT TO FALL IN LOVE but not meant to be together.

T i m e r l e s s


I Am The 》Bartender
User Image
「 the BASICS

Full Name; Colin Isaac Kinsley
Age; Twenty-four
Origin; Brooklyn, NYC
Height; 5' 7"
Weight: 140 lb.
Sexuality; Pansexual
Hair Color; Dull Black
Eye Color; Gray-Blue


「 more PERSONAL


My Life;
Colin was born the fourth child of his family in Brooklyn, New York. The Kinsley home kept expanding after him, eventually leaving him the middle child of seven. He grew up accustomed to shared spaces and a lot of housework. He was never as disciplined or rough as his two older brothers, the more aggressive of which bullied him relentlessly. Nor was he pushy like his youngest baby sister, who learned from an early age that she could get anything she wanted if she threw a loud enough fit. His closest siblings were his older sister, who split much of his sibling babysitting with him, and the younger brother and sister he kept entertained with physical humor and terrible jokes. He picked up interest in juggling, balancing, dancing, and similar hobbies quite young, much to their delight and his father's dismay. His parents themselves were strict and never seemed quite satisfied with him, and he always dreaded the sound of grownup feet stomping over to give him a new lecture on something.

Both his parents were very traditional and showed wariness at their son's inability to be more 'manly.' Attempts to steer him towards more typical hobbies like sports failed. He proved a decent player, but he lacked the competitive nature to care about winning and withered too easily if an opponent invaded his space. The only hobby he loved that they approved of was piano-playing. Like with sports, he showed no interest in the competitive end, but he enjoyed playing and became quite proficient. He fared moderately well at school but often locked up at the prospect of upcoming tests or essays. More than once, he landed in trouble for goofing or slacking off, or becoming a distraction to his classmates with his antics.

As for the slow discovery of his pansexuality, he was too afraid to ever discuss it with his parents. While he could be more honest when he was involved with a girl, he never had the guts to tell them some of his male 'friends' were more than that. His secrecy created a romantic rift more than once, and he couldn't blame a boyfriend if it caused a breakup.

As he grew older, his lack of assertive behavior became an increasingly deep thorn in his father's side. Talk began of his future after school. His father was convinced he needed discipline and began pushing him towards the military. His oldest brother and youngest sister joined the bandwagon. It would be structured. It would be controlled. It would toughen him up.

Colin had nightmares just thinking of being under a drill instructor.

As soon as he hit legal age, he found someone desperate enough to split a shoddy studio apartment and moved out. The roaches and mold of a low-rent place were better than being hounded into boot camp. He also almost completely cut ties with both parents and several of his siblings. The next few years found Colin bouncing between jobs, relationships, and apartments. His friendly and easily bent nature attracted more than one control freak, lovers who strung him along for months at a time, or ones who blatantly proved unfaithful because he wouldn't be willing to fight it. His romantic life became a messy web of complications. He was never single for too long, or at least he was able to find physical attention if he played his cards right, but the strength required for lasting relationships proved more difficult.

For employment, Colin was usually stuck doing menial jobs in questionable parts of the city, made worse when he wasn't assertive enough to push for better options. One of the nightclubs, though, exposed him to bartending. That became his favorite. He was not quite nineteen yet: old enough to serve alcohol, but not old enough to legally admit he was trying the wares himself. But trying them he was, and he was quick to develop a keen personal taste and the ability to make cocktails the way a repeat customer liked. His juggling and balancing skills paid off to make service more flashy in the hope of extra tips. He was the bartender willing to crack bad jokes, unbothered when you ranted your entire life's story on him, and willing to loan a cigarette if you looked in need. Over the next few years, he gained a slight reputation as a good bartender among some of the New York nightlife. Did some patrons take advantage of him? Almost absolutely. He'd grown up trying to appease six siblings at once; special drink requests were easy in comparison. He never acted flustered until a patron grew angry drunk. Deflecting them was not so easy; he preferred to let bouncers handle that, if he could.

Working bars and clubs had its disadvantages, though. He was stalked or assaulted by customers more than once. He learned to hide his tips after being mugged multiple times on his way home. Worst, though, could be his employers themselves. Some of them were benevolent: low pressure, easy-to-follow rules, even free food if he was willing to admit he hadn't eaten that day. Others, the businesses turned out to be fronts for illegal operations. He was an unwilling witness to money laundering, illicit good trades, and worse things he preferred not to think about. He received verbal assurances that he would end up murdered in a gutter if he blabbed, but some weren't satisfied that was enough. The scars from the strikes and cigarette burns those ones doled out didn't always fade. Colin was already bad at sticking up for himself, but his compliant nature worsened as his treatment did. Maybe, if he scraped and smiled and made himself as nonthreatening as possible, they wouldn't feel the need to treat him with such a heavy hand. It was easier to roll over and let them do what they wanted, rather than risk worse repercussions.

He didn't have the courage to report anything, but he also felt increasingly certain that he wasn't going to live long if he stayed. When his sort-of-girlfriend found work hundreds of miles away in Chicago, he tagged along for the move. It didn't matter much if the two of them weren't very serious, or that there was already a 'friend' in Illinois she was spending more and more time talking to.... Colin left without informing some of his bosses, without informing most of his friends, even. He had been too afraid to risk word getting out until he was safely in another state.

Once in the Windy City, Colin found himself in familiar situations soon enough: apartments with various roommates, falling in and out of love (or close enough), and using his bartending skills to make a living. He did invest in the cheapest electronic keyboard he could to pick up his piano skills again. He also discovered a few consistent companions: an aquarium of neon tetra fish, and a red and blue Betta named Slushie. But the biggest self-help step he had taken recently was beginning online college classes. Business and management felt like a far cry from his normal self, but his interest in drinks had sparked one little dream. He knew what tasted good, what made it better. He knew how to distill liquor (and had even done so at home, much to his roommates' frustration). If he could develop a business plan, get a loan, and grow a spine to manage it all, he wanted to open his own distillery.

As for those new Timer items that had burst into pop culture? They caught his curiosity, especially the ones with flashy screens and colors. But his previous romances had not expressed interest in getting one, so he had not, either. Going by himself was too intimidating.


Personality;
Colin makes the first impression of being friendly, non-threatening, and a little eccentric. While he has good coordination skills, he tends to move and stand in very loose and almost clumsy-looking posture. He loves bad jokes that either get a laugh or an eye roll. He tends to speak in an indirect manner, using a lot of metaphors or other roundabout ways to make a point instead of getting right to it. He's always willing to bend an ear to someone needing to vent or get pulled into an idea with people he knows. While his smile can get tight and nervous if someone makes him afraid, it's difficult to tell if someone ever actually gets on his nerves. At first impression, this niceness can make him seem naïve. Really, he isn't.

Colin's appeasing personality is half true, half defense mechanism. He's afraid of sticking up for himself and figures it's easier to bend to what other people want to avoid conflicts. It's better to try and get along with everyone instead of potentially pushing them away or making them angry. He gets pulled into other people's drama because he can't bring himself to say no...still smiling uncomfortably all the way. He's been taken advantage of plenty, and he's aware that people have used and abused him in work and personal life, but he still hasn't learned to draw hard lines. It's kept him from having many long-term relationships, especially when he's not willing to hash out a disagreement. A few of his ex-lovers have been overly controlling and overbearing simply because he didn't stop it.

Naturally curious and open-minded, he's easily pulled into new situations or trying something different, especially if someone else is excited about it. This includes innocuous things and experimenting when it comes to romance. Truth be told, he hasn't actually liked everything he's been involved in, but he hasn't admitted it much. He likes to search up answers to strange facts or questions when they're asked just to satisfy his own inquisitiveness.

He enjoys some odd hobbies like juggling and learning completely out-of-style dances, and he's a whiz when it comes to making cocktails with a little bit of flare. Those and piano-playing are some of the only things he has any real self-confidence in. He goes between being almost a shut-in to spending far too much time out with others, depending on who he's with or the mood his roommates are in. It's hard for him to find a balanced middle ground. Thankfully his fish don't care, as long as he comes home enough to feed them. He also spends too much of his free time in front of a screen. Mobile games and online videos are... not quite an addiction, but certainly a huge time waster. Colin has an active presence on a few social media platforms, too, especially anything photo-heavy. His own posts don't have a public reach: just friends and acquaintances.


Likes;
+ Bad jokes
+ Comfy cardigans and sweaters
+ Liquors: clear ones like gin, vodka, tequila, etc. are his favorites
+ Experimenting with cocktails
+ Piano playing
+ Going on outings with friends/other people
+ Juggling/other skills requiring dexterity
+ Dancing (particularly retro 70s-90s and even a little ballroom)
+ Screen-based tech like smartphones and tablets (he's a bit of a mobile game junkie)
+ The occasional smoke (tobacco or otherwise)
+ His aquarium and pet fish
+ Friendly dogs/cats and quieter pets like fish/reptiles/mice
+ Stars and constellations
+ Hair braiding (comes from having three sisters, he supposes)
+ Indulging his natural curiosity
+ Most social media


Dislikes:
- Conflict conflict CONFLICT
- Acting tough or too serious
- Loud voices or banging noises (he can tune out the thumping bass working at a club, but it's still not his favorite)
- Spicy food
- Scary movies
- Big and/or really loud animals
- His curiosity leading him into something bad
- The interpersonal dramas that can happen on social media


Fears;
x Violence/threats of violence
x Any physical confrontation really
x Taking sides in difficult conflicts
x Big dog breeds, or being bit by an aggressive animal
x Falling into a 'bad crowd' again and being unable to escape
x Homelessness
x Being considered so lame or weird that no one wants to be around him
x Anyone from the illegal work in Brooklyn happening to recognize him

Anything else?;
- Colin has some scars across his chest and shoulders from his time working in NYC
- He has a tacky flaming heart tattoo on his left chest - a previous SO convinced him to get it
- He's trying to teach Slushie the Betta some tricks
- He's very rarely loud, but he does have a particularly high-pitched shriek if you scare him bad enough

Theme Song: Dance Monkey by Tones and I
Small playlist for him: here

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bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

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bunniechan7's Waifu

Wheezing Bunny

25,075 Points
  • Very Thankful 25
  • Friend of the Goat 100
  • Are You Jelly? 500

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