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❖⊱- Not Quite There -⊰❖ (A Ringmaster Fanguild)

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Enter the tent and enjoy a wide variety of fun in the world of Gaian circuses! 

Tags: Ringmaster, Ringleader, Role Play, Circus, Cirque du gothique 

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Kaleidosaur

Hopeful Trash

PostPosted: Sat Nov 26, 2011 8:52 pm


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Mr. Twist looked upon the bed he often neglected, still exactly as he'd left it... give or take a bit of dust. Surprisingly, his entire living area was untouched. He half expected to see someone sleeping in his place, but was pleasantly shown otherwise.

Taking a seat on his bed, he straightened his posture, and gazed ahead. The two voices from before were still conversing, and he could hear them quite clearly from where he sat. Yes, he was bored, but he just wasn't interested in eavesdropping on their conversation any further. It didn't seem awfully interesting. The opposite rather. Spiders... cows... general blather that wasn't even worth repeating for practice. Until the more reserved of the voices made the strangest of noises.

Throaty? Much resembling the gargling of water...yet more of a choking noise. Perhaps more similar to a cat, spewing a hairball... Mr. Twist focused on the sound. He repeated the noise to himself, at least four times out loud. Such a unique noise. Disgusting, really...what else had he said? He tried to recall for a moment, to maybe understand what sort of exclamation or question would cause such a spectacular utterance. "Well... you see... I never really... uh... Pass...?" Mr. Twist recalled. Awkwardness. I hardly catch that in voices so otherwise reserved, and kept-back. Hmm. He hadn't realized it, but the conversation he'd just thought was pointless moments ago suddenly became excellent mimicry practice. In the heat of it, he didn't even realize that if he could hear the voices from a distance, the owners of the voices could also hear him.
PostPosted: Sat Nov 26, 2011 8:56 pm


Miss Maeko


Avery Rush


Avery sighed forlornly. While over time he had found his morals to be loose enough to the point where he had no problem seducing straights, gays, and anyone in between, Avery had realized that sexually confused teenagers weren't his forte. They tended to be clingy. Avery hated clingy people. They would beg and plead and try to make you stay until you got so sick and tired of them that your four day vacation turned into an extended stay to the land of Never Returning Ever.

That was why Avery liked circuses. They were easy going places where it was easy to slide in and out. They didn't care how long you stayed out or what you did as long as you returned on time for the performance.

But, back to the topic on hand, Avery decided that setting his eyes on someone else would probably be smarter. Besides, the kid looked as if he were afraid of germs or diseases or something. If his earlier comment about spiders being covered in germs being the scariest things, then the surgical mask sure made it clear.

Avery made sure to smile sweet enough so Iyo knew there were no hard feelings. "Pass all you want. But, uh… how do I know which tent I'm staying in? The Broody Ringmaster never did tell me. I've been staying in a cheap motel for the past few weeks."

Avery then heard something strange. It almost sounded like Iyokou's voice, but farther away. He shrugged it off since it couldn't be that important. Besides, finding out where to sleep was much more important than listening to strange mimicry voices.

Alemir



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PostPosted: Sat Nov 26, 2011 9:11 pm


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User Image Iyokou sighed in relief at Avery's smile. Things seemed to be alright, after all. He honestly didn't know what he'd do if he had to deal with another person all up in his personal space. Human contact, especially of the sexual kind, was always so filthy and disgusting. So he supposed it was a good thing that Avery noticed and backed off, even if it was for his own reasons, which the teen suspected it was.

The next question startled Iyokou a little bit. Silencieux never gave this man a tent? It was odd, considering he quickly was assigned one when he joined. Although, it wasn't exactly his dream tent, it was a tent nonetheless. And of course, when he rejected that tentmate, he was given a new one, but was ordered to find a new tentmate at some point in time to save space. Or something like that.

Iyokou looked at Avery once more. "I'm surprised she didn't give you a tent. I guess she's been busy... I suppose you could room with another crew member until she fully decides on where to put you." he replied. He was about to ask if Avery wanted to room with him, but felt it would be way too awkward, especially after that last moment of embarrassment, and decided to not ask that. He figured Avery would want to room with someone more normal anyways.

He blinked when he heard a strange echo of his own voice and looked around. How strange. This doesn't really seem like a place that would echo, but okay... he mentally noted and sighed, taking once last glance around before turning back to Avery, after seeing nothing out of the ordinary.
PostPosted: Sat Nov 26, 2011 9:26 pm


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Just as Mr. Twist was about to continue his mimicry practice, he remembered the voices not far from his tent, and stopped himself. Well, not voices, per se, but people that the voices belonged to. He always mixed up the two.

Setting his cane by his bed, he lifted his leather bag onto his pillow, and started to set his belongings back up how they were before. Regular everyday objects he placed back in the basket under his bed, while he lovingly set a picture-frame on the make-shift desk right beside. He gazed for a moment at the sparkling image of his wife, and her lovely blue eyes as they stared back at him. Imagining his daughter, he could picture her looking so much like her mother. What he wouldn't give to hug his child, if only for a moment.

He snapped out of his haze when he recalled the reason he'd left in the first place, and again promised to no one in particular that he would burn the photograph. Anything that could link him back to the same Eruneinkotz Twist that was supposed to be dead had to be done away with... if keeping the same name wasn't bad enough. Hastily, he tucked the frame back into his bag, and continued to lay his things back in their proper places.

Kaleidosaur

Hopeful Trash


Alemir

PostPosted: Sat Nov 26, 2011 9:38 pm


Miss Maeko


Avery Rush


Avery shrugged. "I can't help it if she's so broody she's much to busy to accommodate her acts." Avery promised himself there wasn't a bitter tinge to his voice. He would never ever put down a woman. He was kind and thoughtful and he thought women were noble and graceful creatures.

Who was he kidding? He disliked most of them. And so far, the main woman wasn't exactly making an ideal impression on him. He was a misogynist and he mostly accepted that about himself, though he would never go so far as to say he hated women. He just didn't think they had all that much use beyond ruining his life. Every major problem in his life could be traced back to a woman.

After that little tirade of joy within his head, Avery decided to speak up again. "Do you know which tents are empty? Or halfway empty? I suppose I'll have to have a roommate. Unless Broody wants to give me a tent all to my lonesome." his charming expression had changed to one that was much darker. It was also oddly reminiscent to the delightful face he used when hunting down and killing spiders.
PostPosted: Sat Nov 26, 2011 9:53 pm


Uber Spain


User Image Iyokou laughed a little, nervously. This newcomer certainly didn't seem to like the Ringmaster very much. He wasn't sure if it was because of her personality, or if he just plain didn't like women. He also didn't know which was better to go with...

Iyokou decided it was better not to ask, either way.

He sighed softly and looked around. "Well... to be honest, I'm not sure. I haven't really met the other acts really, much less figured out their sleeping quarters..." he replied, "I mean, mine's half free, and I was asked to find another tentmate at some point, but I doubt you'd want to room with someone as OCD as me..." he laughed a little awkwardly.

"I figure you can just sleep in any tent you want until the Ringmaster says otherwise. I'm sure there are some nice people who would be willing to stay with you." he finished, flinching a little at Avery's frightening expression.


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acrid hime
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PostPosted: Sat Nov 26, 2011 11:52 pm


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Alone. Alexander woke up in his oh-so-familiar bed, strangely alone. Broken bones and a moonlighted night life never did well together even if one was taking painkillers like candy. His eyes wandered as his mind did. What day was it? How did he end up in his bed? Who was he? Oh, wait... He was still Alexander. Still.

Sleep and medication mixed to a foggy drift that was all too comforting to the man. But he did notice a few things he had... lacked as of late. Drinking leaves in a stupor of near all of his sense, but now that he was off in another world with the help of only small white pills, his sense of smell seemed to have return, and oh God, all the things he could smell now. Everything has a scent, and Alexander was relearning this.
It had it perks. Like for instance, Alexander was bathing more regularly whenever he could get the energy to get up or if Ace be willing, help him. And it is nice that he can actually taste his food now.
But just as well, it meant he could smell anything foul and that would include the particular smell of meat cooking. Alexander no longer could go to the mess tent without hurling as there would always be the strong scent of meat cooking. It wasn't as though he had a good sense of smell, but it was good enough.

Ever since a giant white tiger attacked him, the world had become fuzzier and yet sharper at the same time. Before, his sense of time would normally be just slipping in and out of consciousness. Now, it felt as thought he was slipping between different times and consciousness. Up, up, up, then down, down, down. He couldn't tell where he would be for days before remembering he hadn't left his tent for God knows how long.
A smart man would blame the pills. A fool would blame his Sight.
But Alexander felt as though something was different. The air he breathed seemed heavier. The days and nights were longer. Things were brighter in colours and darker in shadow. There was more essence in everything. Something that wasn't there before.
Or at least, never noticed until now.

Alexander looked at his arm and flexed his fingers, watching how the light hit his flesh and created soft shadows and almost a halo along the fringes. Two weeks was a good amount of time to heal most of his injuries, especially with the help of Ace's magic after relenting to more medical assistance. The worst, his ribs, were still healing, but he was able to move about for the most part. Though, he had been becoming more reclusive within his tent, only occasionally going out to ask fellow circus members for food or to hunt for willow bark to make more little white pills.
It seemed as though he was eating less and more of his medicine which was becoming a ritual to produce at least a few a night. It wasn't hard. Anyone with a small fire and few glass jars could make them. Sometimes he would be cognitive enough to produce enough to fill many containers. Sometimes, all he could do was stare at a solution boil for hours before remembering what to do next.

But food is needed to live. Or at least continue to sustain a living organism.
Alexander woke to the sounds of voices and was able to at least recognize one. Iyokou, the awkward boy. Slowly getting out of his bed, more out of lethargy then keeping his wounds safe, the blonde made his way to his table where his simple chemistry set was laid, swallowed a few painkillers -already skilled without the need of liquids-, grabbed some for just in case, and made his way out of his tent to where he heard the voices.

It didn't take too long for Alexander to spot Iyokou and his bright attire, with another fellow. Strange. Usually Iyokou shirked from human interaction, but what did he care? He was hungry and felt the pains which couldn't be abated with his drug. He caught snatches of a discussion of the Mademoiselle, which perked his interest before he returned to his usual apathetic state as the conversation took a different turn. Shuffling his feet, he reached the two, and without paying much attention to the other, he asked,
"Iyokou, would you mind getting food for me?"
Speaking with courtesy and articulation usually worked with the boy.

[[tl;dr Alex doesn't drink as much, is a drug addict, and has a meth lab now. c:]]
[[Oh, and just read the last paragraph. My posts will NEVER be this long again. XD]]
PostPosted: Sun Nov 27, 2011 6:52 pm


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Mr. Twist went about his business, carefully placing well-folded clothes among his other garments in a box under his bed. He pivoted his upper-half, avoiding any movement of his head while he performed the menial task of unpacking. By then, the voi- two men talking a short distance from the tent had merely become background noise. Mr. Twist looked blankly at the empty bed across the tent from his. He never remembered ever having a tent-mate, as one would call it. At one point in time, there likely had been someone sharing his tent with him, but not even a face came to mind. A voice, maybe, but not a face. "Turn off that goddamn light! Don't you ever sleep?" Mr. Twist recalled. He had shared a tent with someone that had a crude, harsh, loud voice. It wasn't a loss to be without such a person, but he couldn't care less either way. The unpacking continued at a grudgingly slow pace.

A new voice from outside suddenly arose. Twenties...male...familiar... He'd heard this voice before. It wasn't from his former tent-mate, that was for sure. The words seemed to have thought behind them...or a lack of it. It was always hard to tell with this particular voice. A large majority of the time, the voice was slurred, usually from excess drinking. Mr. Twist thought for a moment before he was able to pull forth a name that matched the voice. Alexander... the card-reader. A man he'd never formed a true, steady opinion about. How could one judge such a man that was changing so often? There were few things he found that remained a constant... other than his drinking, of course. Then again, Mr. Twist was more or less very distant from his fellow troupe members. If anyone but the Ringmaster even knew his name, it would be a shock. Taking this into account, his opinion on Alexander suddenly seemed watery. There was no substance to his assumptions of character. He knew nothing solid about the man...about hardly anyone in the Cirque du Noire. But perhaps it was better that way. Closeness meant danger. It also meant less loneliness, but he couldn't afford that comfort. If he was unknown, he was safe.

Kaleidosaur

Hopeful Trash


Kaori242

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PostPosted: Sun Nov 27, 2011 9:52 pm


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                                            Meldellevo lay on his bed, hands folded on his stomach, eyes staring blankly at the top of his section of tent. He had tried so many times to break through to Luciano, to call for help. The first day he had had no success, despite concentrated efforts and shutting himself away behind his tent flaps. On the fourth day, he was beginning to panic: he couldn't perform any magic, couldn't bend the world to his will, couldn't even make any sparkles. He had excused himself repeatedly from rehearsals, claiming that he could feel a spell of lethargy coming on again. He had spent the majority of the two weeks fretting in his own section of the tent, flaps drawn resolutely shut, pretending to be recuperating and ignoring everyone.

                                            Sighing, Meldellevo shifted and threw his feet on the ground, burying his face in his hands. He couldn't keep it up for much longer: his periods of incapacitation had never lasted quite so long in past, and the story was starting to be suspicious. His living quarters were near the front of the tent; he could hear people walking past, thinking he was asleep, some expressing concern and some expressing disdain. He was sure that Mrs. Puppet had stopped outside the tent once or twice, her rolling suspicion palpable even through the canvas, as if trying to catch him doing jumping jacks.

                                            How long had it been? At least two weeks, surely. He had lost track between pretending to be asleep and staring fruitlessly at the corner that Luciano had favoured. Panic had long since become a constant crawl in his extremities, a throbbing wave in his organs, a blaring alarm in his brain; he needed to pace.

                                            Letting out a puff of air, he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trousers, grimacing as he did so: in order to keep up the appearance of fatigue, he had not been able to change his clothing, and the sticky scent of sweat and human oils had been cloying and invasive to his nose.

                                            "You b*****d, where did you go?" he ground his teeth, kicking at the floor.

                                            He had not walked for five minutes, however, until he was suddenly hit with a flooding sensation. It washed over him and rustled his clothes, a cool breeze carrying away all the ennui and stink, replacing it with vigour and sparking electricity. His loosened tie whipped around his face, the bedclothes swirled in crackling energy as a bright pinpoint of light bled onto the ground beneath his feet.

                                            Gasping and stumbling, but smiling, he flopped onto his bed, watching in wonder as the light turned into small arcs of lightning, and the lightning conglomerated into a solid glowing pillar. With a refreshing blast, the pillar resolved itself into a glowing humanoid shape. Grey eyes emerged first from the glow; followed by a familiar face, angular, radiant, handsome; and finally, the rest of the light dissolved away, leaving Luciano with his hands on his hips, dressed in a white suit, an apologetic smile on his face.

                                            "My regrets, dearest Meldellevo. I neglected you while I worked; please forgive me. Now," he said, extending a hand that Meldellevo found himself clasping. Cool blue sparks shot from Luciano to Mel and seemed to transform the dishevelled magician into a prim dandy once more; even the smell of sweat disappeared. Luciano pulled him softly along, gentle blue light bobbing about him as he did so. He changed forms as he pushed apart the flaps leading to the main portion of the tent, shrinking into a small white Yorkshire Terrier, a glossy leash leading from his collar and wrapping around Meldellevo's wrist. I believe that we have a matter of importance related to the unethical use of chimera to report to Icarus?"


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Rose of Hope
PostPosted: Sun Nov 27, 2011 10:20 pm


t h e C a r d M a s t e r


User Image The purple haired teen had been awaiting Avery's response when he caught the scent of something... strange? He turned to see - who was it? Oh right - Alexander standing by him and gasped a little in shock. How did he manage to not notice that man until now? Although Iyokou knew little to nothing about this guy, he was always able to tell him from far away due to his scent - alcohol. He was quite sensitive to that particular scent, and always he could smell it on him, but for some reason at this moment, the scent really wasn't quite there, which surprised the acrobat a little bit. But who was he to judge? He only knew his name and what he did. Maybe this Alexander person just didn't feel like having some drinks yet? That, or his sense of smell was still stuffed up with soot or something from the fire.

Iyokou sighed a little bit, calming himself, although he had a harder time to do so. Alexander was also a bit scary like the Ringmaster... Oh, ******** it. Everyone in this Goddamned circus, save for Avery, scared the living s**t out of him. Even Eli. But that was a different, more annoying kind of scary. The kind of scary you just wanted to hit with a frying pan over and over and over again.

Would you mind getting food for me?

The acrobat blinked. Why was Alexander asking someone he barely knew for food? He gave him a strange look. "Um... I'm sorry, Alexander, but why are you asking me? Wouldn't the chef or Ace make a better... um... option... to ask? I only know how to make... like... fried rice..." And he was back to sounding like a bumbling idiot. Good thing he was getting used to it, at least.


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PostPosted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 1:07 am


◆ Mademoiselle Silencieux ◆


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People were stirring. Sil could hear them outside. Not what they were saying, mind you, but she could definitely tell that they were there. After making sure that the flaps to her tent were tied shut and well secured, the woman sulked over to her wardrobe, opening up its thick oak doors. She pulled out an article of clothing, a rather long, deep violet number, and tossed it over onto the bed nearby. Once she closed up the wardrobe again, she began to unbutton her vest, soon going through the process of removing her clothes. Sil then snatched up the purple dress she had laid on the bed, slipping it over her head and pulling it down. It hung on her body loosely, almost swallowing the petite woman.

This began to change though, as the ringmaster began to shift her appearance. The pupils disappeared from her eyes, and her irises went from a harsh, warm crimson, to a pale, almost white blue. Her sclera was now a cool steely color, to match her irises. Her skin and hair began to fade into much lighter colors, as her figure began to grow more slender and much taller. By the time she was through with the transformation, she looked drastically different. Sil gave a bit of a comforted and relieved sigh as she adjusted the now more fitted dress, looking down to her webbed hand. It had been a while since she had been in her most natural form, like most other things, she had neglected changing back, despite keeping in her disguise for most of the time being a very draining task.

Sil ran her hands through her mess of silvery, wavy hair, feeling along the two thin antennae that sprouted from her head. With another sigh she turned, looking over to the mirror that sat over her vanity. A small chuckle escaped as she, quite ironicly, realized that she had almost been unable to recognize herself like this. She was so used to the small, dark haired version of herself, that the pale, tall creature that she was in reality was almost foreign to her.


Such a deplorable shame that a rare creature needs to hide herself away. All because of the cruel monsters of this world.

The Shapeshifter’s expression sank a bit. Since that night two weeks ago, she had been hearing much more of this new voice, and though she’d never truly admit it, she didn’t mind having it around. It was much kinder to her poor tattered mind than the other voices, and had some fairly valid points. It was probably the one thing that was keeping Sil from giving up on her plans all together. “I know.”

Would it not be magnificent if you could walk around in your natural form? Without fear of how the world may bring harm to you?

Sil pulled back the corner of her mouth slightly, shaking her head. She turned to walk over to her desk, striding on the tips of her toes as she walked. ”As amazing as that would indeed be....” She sat down in the plush black chair, giving yet another sigh. ”Part of me doubts it would ever happen.”

Of course it could happen, dear. You just have to make it happen.


◆ Aemilio Sartorius ◆


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Aemilio wiped his hands against each other as he walked, trying to get the dirt from them. After all of those chores, he was probably in desperate need of a shower. As much as he loved working with the animals, the smell that clung to him was very often very off-putting. He would have to head to the showers, though in reality that wouldn’t take him too long. First, he needed a fresh pair of clothes, and he turned around on the heel of his boot to go fetch just that.

As soon as he turned around though, he found himself met with a tackling hug from one of the pyromaniac twins. The unicorn man stumbled back, chuckling nervously as he caught his balance. ”Ah, hola, Senorita.” He dusted himself off, soon looking over to the girl with a small bit of surprise and confusion, then to her brother, who also decided to hang off of the poor man. Feeling horrifically uncomfortable, Aemilio ducked down, slipping away from the twins before standing back up.

The blonde’s ears twitched a bit, and he tried hard not to show the annoyance in his face from their questions. He sighed a bit. ”As I have explained, many times before, I am a unicorn.” To be honest, Aemilio wasn’t even sure why the twins were out and about. After that stunt in the previous two weeks, not to mention what happened to Stelle’s own tent because of the two of them, Aemilio would have imagined that they wouldn’t even be allowed on the grounds anymore. At least, if Aemilio was in charge, they wouldn’t be. Ringmaster Icarus was far too nice of a man to be letting them loose like this.

Though with the twins, the unicorn man had to question whether or not there was any way to control them.


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PostPosted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 1:05 pm


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                                            As Meldellevo pushed the flap of the tent aside, he noticed a bit of a racket deeper inside the tent. Holding the leash tightly, he turned and looked; it was still relatively early, and he was surprised that someone was already up and about.

                                            On closer inspection, it appeared to be Aemilio and the little pyromaniac twins. The unicorn's tail seemed to twitch in agitation, and Meldellevo sighed through his nose. So the twins were still here, and still wrecking havoc and being a nuisance. He would personally never stand for the sort of insolence that the twins showed, and he took sympathy on Aemilio's predicament, tugging the leash on Luciano towards the unicorn.

                                            "Senor," he nodded to Aemilio. "Children," he added to Parasite and Tapeworm, not bothering to keep the his disdain in check, "It's good to be sensible again; I apologize for my spell of fatigue. Might I borrow you for a few moments, Aemilio?"


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PostPosted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 7:35 pm


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Pointing at a random cloud in the sky, Bee calls out the shape of the cloud, “Mwee! (Apple!) ” Priding in itself, it looks over to its friend's face, Ace, who was supposed to be paying attention to its cries of joy. The little magi bunny has been trying to get some sort of reaction from the young man ever since their morning greets, but he hasn’t said anything since they got out of bed. With the latest attempt to end up in a fail (yet again), the small creature puffs its cheeks and twitches its ears irritably. As much as Bee wants to tear up that piece of paper in front of Ace's face, or pull on the poor guy’s hair, it would be a wrong thing to do because of the event that took place two weeks ago. Giving up, Bee sulks quietly on its friend's shoulder.

Wearing a white short-sleeved dress shirt, a black vest on top of it with a matching pair of cotton pants, and a red tie, the magician reads down the list of requests to be done that day. The piece of paper containing the checklist/requests was found on the coffee table of his tent while the two of them were still asleep, and the only person Ace would know that might have placed it there was Mademoiselle herself (since, well, she never seem to sleep anyway). Besides, the familiar red stamp mark on the bottom of the list belongs to no one else besides the Noire's ringmaster.

What the list is asking of the guy isn’t considered all that “abnormal” to an average person either. Just something “simple”... like finding a sleeping tent for the new guy to settle in, take care of the main tent and chimera barn, make sure the troublemakers are well behave, healthy, and are where they’re supposed to be, bring her coffee at the appointed times, don’t make any remark about Sil’s sleeping habit, don’t speak to Sil unless it’s an urgent matter, and… something else that’s being covered completely by the red stamp (thanks to Sil’s lack of sleep).

Ace sighed. Outside of Sil’s requests, there’s still that confusion from two weeks ago. With his free hand, Ace pulls out another piece of paper. On it is a list he made from bits of his memory that were still fresh in his mind that day when he found himself waking up inside his tent, 3 days after the main tent having caught itself on fire. Now that it's been a week and a half since then, Ace couldn’t remember what had happen inside that barnyard prior its collapse. Even this personal note of his seems foreign to him (excluding the tarot card reader's name, of course). “Alexander was there… Yellow explosion(s)… Threatening male voice… Blonde man not that of unicorn…” After having read through the list out loud a few times to himself, the magician couldn’t help but furrow his brows. He kicks himself for not being more descriptive when he had the chance back then. Tucking the piece of paper back into his pocket, Ace decides it would be best for him to just proceed with Sil’s requests since he’s going nowhere with this one for the time being.
PostPosted: Tue Nov 29, 2011 7:16 pm


Miss Maeko

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t h e C a r d M a s t e r


Parasite and Tapeworm


Parasite pouted and promptly clung to her brother instead as Amelio slipped away. "But Amelio, Parasite like narwhals!" her bottom lip began to tremble even as Tapeworm rolled his eyes. "Do you not want Parasite to like you…?"

Both twins stiffened when they heard one word in particular that tended to set them on edge when directed towards them.

Children.

They were not children! They were definitely older than eighteen, even if Parasite's personality tended to contradict that statement. However, they would willingly say, if bribed with the proper items, that they could be childish if provoked. But they would never call themselves children.

It was with this thought in mind did the twins hiss at Meldellevo "I would say keep an eye on your bed, Melly, but then I realized you aren't worth the effort." as a final farewell parting gift, Parasite reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out a handful of glitter. She wasted no time dumping that glitter into Meldellevo's hair before she skipped away. Tapeworm was following at a more sedate pace.

Before they were out of hearing range, Parasite began poking Tapeworm in the side while asking "Do you think Parasite and brother could head over to Noire? They're so much nicer over there, letting you and her burn their tent to the ground. Oh! And the people who go there are so nice, letting themselves get burnt!" she couldn't help but grin at the thought. Tapeworm simply nodded in agreement and off they went.

Avery Rush


Avery was about to respond when a blonde man appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Of course, Avery was amused as he watched Iyokou flounder for words to say to… Alexander, was it?

Before Alexander could speak up again Avery decided to pick his tentmate. "Looks like you found yourself a new roomie, Iyo! Just point me in the right direction and I'll be off."

And he really should go, too. This Alexander didn't look half bad. If he stayed around for too much longer he'd end up asking for his sexual orientation too. As amusing as that would be, he really didn't want to make too many enemies here. Of course, that would be a decent excuse to tell himself later on when he decided to leave this circus behind.

But that didn't matter quite yet. What mattered was actually getting a decent place to sleep. Stupid Broody.

Alemir



Borb


Rainbow Glitch

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PostPosted: Tue Nov 29, 2011 7:52 pm


Uber Spain


User ImageDark red eyes watched the scene from afar, an equally red smile painted upon the clean, pale face of Mrs. Puppett. She watched as the twins interacted with both Meldellevo and that strange looking unicorn known as Aemilio. Crossing her arms, her smile widened slightly at the twins as Parasite poured glitter all over that insufferable Illusionist and she stifled a small chuckle at the sight. They were cute, the twins. She hadn't been able to find anyone that amused her so much since she met her dear husband. She vaguely wondered how he was doing, but shook her head and sighed, figuring that he was just fine on his own. It wasn't as if they ever used each other for physical pleasures such as sex. It was simply a marriage where they could be together and understand one another. He needed bloodshed and she needed control. So she would happily hide any and all evidence of his doings so long as he did what she said in the meantime. It was a sick love, but it worked well enough for the both of them.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, Mrs. Puppett watched as the twins left for Noire. She wasn't quite able to hear it, but the way Parasite was giggling and talking of burning tents, it was a good guess. Quietly, she moved to follow them. Stelle was awfully boring without them, and who knows? She might actually see another beautiful fire in the near future. That was good enough motivation to follow.
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