08-12-2018, 04:48 AM
[div style="margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.5; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt;"][ ooc ] i'm, uh, going to say that tequila was here all along uwu
There was the usual eerie hum which decimated any chance at silence, weaving carefully along the sides of the tent and murmuring unintelligible whispers. The atmosphere was laid out to be one of tension but a kind of tension that was mutually accepted, understood by the hearts of the people who lived by here. People. He thought he called them 'people' for a moment. Some who knew the nature of their mad driven souls didn't view The Berserkers as 'people'. No, they were hooligans by their very nature - barbaric, savage, crazed. And yet humans still came crawling in, one after the other like maggots chasing after flesh all desiring to come and watch their show, their show filled with acrobatics and fools. One of these 'maggots', of course, was Tequila who proclaimed himself as a magician. At this moment, the adolescent boy is now poking his head out of the comfort of his tent, yawning as he carefully rubs his face with both hands. He was a circus freak with a mediocre backstory: a child who ran away to join the circus merely because he liked the unified choir of cheers that came along with it. The gasps, the screams, the cries. He was addicted to the feeling of it, the adrenaline which showed through beads of sweat. It was one of the reasons that throughout the years of his life, Tequila simply accepted the changes, the coming of a harsh rule. He often went with the flow, not caring too much about where life took him. The excitement was all he needed because life, as he had come to realise, was quite a boring thing.
His nose twitches like a rabbit's, the seventeen-year-old sniffing the air to catch the whiff of their most 'Marvelous' Maverick - the M&M, as he liked to jokingly call him. Tequila could almost relate to Mavericks sense of paranoia towards others but Tequila's distrust simply stemmed from his horrible personality. He was social, sure, and enjoyed crafting himself to be as charming as possible but his exterior led him to become suspicious of the ones around him. He paid attention to voices a lot, the way people inflected certain sounds, fidgeted with the fabric of their clothes. Sometimes it was clear to him that they were lying to him so Tequila, in experience of dealing with both liars and his dishonest personality, has come to assume that everyone was the same. Wretched, lying creatures who crawled on top of others for salvation. Hah. He smooths the material of his gloves, straightening them so that they better fit around his wrists before walking out with a sweeping motion. The bells hanging off his ears have already begun chiming, waves of noise bouncing hopelessly off objects and persons. Tequila habitually takes a deep breath in, filling his lungs with air before releasing a harsh but calm exhale.
He has almost too much energy when his steps resemble that of springs, the soles of his feet reverberating against the ground. Tremors alert him of Maverick's coordinates, the ringing of his bells give Tequila just enough of an idea what the Ringmaster might be doing. His movements were...inquisitive, like there was some decision to be made...or of boredom. It was usually one of those two whenever Tequila came and asked what was going on. "G'morning!" Tequila finally calls, but then quickly retracts with a small giggle, "Or good afternoon." He's genuinely unsure of what time it is, raising his head as if taking a look at where the sun was positioned. He bites his bottom lip. No answers come to him when he decides to move on as he can never really tell what time it is. "Ah, doesn't matter." Tequila offers a signature smile. "I hear San Creado also happens to have a big Ferris Wheel. And a pineapple - a big, big pineapple." News of any tourist venue came by fast, especially considering how much Tequila loved to stay up to date with what was happening in the world. That being said, it was very much likely that Maverick had already heard such news. "Are you busy today? I can lend a hand if need be."
There was the usual eerie hum which decimated any chance at silence, weaving carefully along the sides of the tent and murmuring unintelligible whispers. The atmosphere was laid out to be one of tension but a kind of tension that was mutually accepted, understood by the hearts of the people who lived by here. People. He thought he called them 'people' for a moment. Some who knew the nature of their mad driven souls didn't view The Berserkers as 'people'. No, they were hooligans by their very nature - barbaric, savage, crazed. And yet humans still came crawling in, one after the other like maggots chasing after flesh all desiring to come and watch their show, their show filled with acrobatics and fools. One of these 'maggots', of course, was Tequila who proclaimed himself as a magician. At this moment, the adolescent boy is now poking his head out of the comfort of his tent, yawning as he carefully rubs his face with both hands. He was a circus freak with a mediocre backstory: a child who ran away to join the circus merely because he liked the unified choir of cheers that came along with it. The gasps, the screams, the cries. He was addicted to the feeling of it, the adrenaline which showed through beads of sweat. It was one of the reasons that throughout the years of his life, Tequila simply accepted the changes, the coming of a harsh rule. He often went with the flow, not caring too much about where life took him. The excitement was all he needed because life, as he had come to realise, was quite a boring thing.
His nose twitches like a rabbit's, the seventeen-year-old sniffing the air to catch the whiff of their most 'Marvelous' Maverick - the M&M, as he liked to jokingly call him. Tequila could almost relate to Mavericks sense of paranoia towards others but Tequila's distrust simply stemmed from his horrible personality. He was social, sure, and enjoyed crafting himself to be as charming as possible but his exterior led him to become suspicious of the ones around him. He paid attention to voices a lot, the way people inflected certain sounds, fidgeted with the fabric of their clothes. Sometimes it was clear to him that they were lying to him so Tequila, in experience of dealing with both liars and his dishonest personality, has come to assume that everyone was the same. Wretched, lying creatures who crawled on top of others for salvation. Hah. He smooths the material of his gloves, straightening them so that they better fit around his wrists before walking out with a sweeping motion. The bells hanging off his ears have already begun chiming, waves of noise bouncing hopelessly off objects and persons. Tequila habitually takes a deep breath in, filling his lungs with air before releasing a harsh but calm exhale.
He has almost too much energy when his steps resemble that of springs, the soles of his feet reverberating against the ground. Tremors alert him of Maverick's coordinates, the ringing of his bells give Tequila just enough of an idea what the Ringmaster might be doing. His movements were...inquisitive, like there was some decision to be made...or of boredom. It was usually one of those two whenever Tequila came and asked what was going on. "G'morning!" Tequila finally calls, but then quickly retracts with a small giggle, "Or good afternoon." He's genuinely unsure of what time it is, raising his head as if taking a look at where the sun was positioned. He bites his bottom lip. No answers come to him when he decides to move on as he can never really tell what time it is. "Ah, doesn't matter." Tequila offers a signature smile. "I hear San Creado also happens to have a big Ferris Wheel. And a pineapple - a big, big pineapple." News of any tourist venue came by fast, especially considering how much Tequila loved to stay up to date with what was happening in the world. That being said, it was very much likely that Maverick had already heard such news. "Are you busy today? I can lend a hand if need be."
[align=center][div style="font-size:17pt;line-height:1.1;;font-family:georgia"][i]the universe sitting in my hands[div style="font-size:8pt;line-height:.1.1;font-family:arial;margin-bottom:5px;margin-top:-2px"]
[ JEAN-JACQUES | FEMININE BOY | THE BERSERKERS | STORAGE ]
[ JEAN-JACQUES | FEMININE BOY | THE BERSERKERS | STORAGE ]