where is my mind | introduction

[tequila]

He's not fazed by any feeling of distaste towards him. Tequila, after all, was a bad user of reaction formation and often projected what he thought into the actions of others. Any unnecessary friendliness led the boy to become suspicious because he too would take the opportunity to swoon any person if he had to chance. Nevertheless, he found himself tugging at his clothes with a plastered smile upon his lips, pressed in a way that didn't hurt his cheeks when he held the expression for so long. Too ironic! the man says and his eyeless face centres properly on the ringmaster. Mystic freaks! He feels he'd fit right in. Though he has heard about vampires and werewolves to be only in story, Tequila's own abilities were shown by his unsettling ability to navigate. Anyone who stayed long enough would realise that the long fringe which stopped just before the pointed tip of his nose was merely hiding bandages which coiled around his head like that of a snake. It was possible that Tequila merely had eyes somewhere else but many had settled that the bell-ringing male was blind - why else would he sometimes become confused when asked to pick colour from colour?

He notices just how much he's begun fiddling with the frills of his clothes when a woman interrupts their 'conversation'. He merely pauses, noticing how much the ground had tremored against the sensitive soles of his feet before she had even spoken. Tequila wasn't paying attention so it seems. But then, furrowing his brows, he replays what 'Harleen Quinzel' had just said to them. She, rather cheekily, called them both boys. It was at this point that Tequila supposes that it was always the crazy ones who seemed to know the truth. Joining The Beserkers always meant you were crazy. He doesn't see why any sane person would want to join. "Jean-Jacques, but I'm most commonly called Tequila," the feminine boy replies, twiddling with the ends of his hair. He was leaving an air of mystery towards his nickname - it didn't have any particular correlation to his supposed real name after all. Still, Tequila moves on to the next part of Harleen's question, blushing a little when he turns around to 'face' her. "The days have been quiet, and a bit tense. But I'm most glad to meet you, Miss Quinzel. Did you come from far to join us?" His successive lines were like that of a child, coming one after the other.