You people NEED to get your profiles up. I'd like to start this. We're starting on the sixth, with or without all your profiles, but I'd rather with than without. So. Yeah. Thanks.
Ideasdon't stay in heads very long because they don't likesolitary confinement.
Appearance: She has light brown hair that goes just goes just above her hips in full, lush curls. Her skin is pale yet rosy, and her features are quite delicate. Her eyes are a pale, ice blue, wide and full, suggesting innocence. Her eyebrows are fairly thin, yet they lack an arch. Her lips are a natural pink color and she is somewhat petite, as she stands at five one and weighs about one hundred pounds.
Personality: Aurore had always been beautiful; everyone had told her this for as long as she can remember, and because of it, she grew somewhat vain. She is easily scared and the smallest things will send her into panic. She is paranoid and distrustful; because of this, it is hard for her to make friends. She can be stubborn and uncooperative, but once you get to know her, she can be a good person to be around.
History: Aurore was born into a well-to-do household in the french countryside, but around age seven things began to unravel and she lived in poverty after that. She never had any siblings, and when she was eleven her mother died, leaving her alone with her father, whom she hated. She was never happy, and strove to be educated even though she knew it would not be allowed. She never had very many friends, and this unhappiness led her to run away when she was sixteen. She had no idea where she was going, what she wanted, or who to guide her. So she was relived when finally, by chance, she uncovered the circus; little did she know it would lead to her death. To this day, her ghost stays there, unhappy, still not able to find what she wanted.
Up for love?: No
All our dreams can come true — if we have the courage to pursue them. -- Walt Disney
It has been a century - or has it been two? - since Marvel Marquis last stepped foot in this dimension. So cold, it is. Cold and bright, in spite of it being night in the summery forest. To Marvel, his home dimension felt entirely natural. Black fires lit up the face of his planet, the faces of demons, all surrounded by sky a color deeper and more menacing than black.
The black of this world was soft, velvety. The sky was a dark blue, speckled with tiny white dots, one larger than the rest and filled with the softest black this world offered. Night creatures harmonized with their individual songs. The pleasant sound of leaves rustling from the light breeze seems so uncomfortably gentle to Marvel, as does every other aspect of this unfamiliar environment.
On the other hand, Marcello appears almost forlorn, and definitely distant as they stand outside the Big Top. He catches Marvel analyzing him, and his eyes harden in defense. "What?" he growls. Marcello is the only demon who would dare speak to Marvel that way.
"You miss this place, don't you?" The question was curious, not sympathetic, and Marvel's tilts his head as he asks it.
For a moment, Marcello remains silent. Then, "This isn't france. I've never been to the Americas. But it's all familiar regardless." He pauses a moment. "We're all under the same moon, you know."
Marvel, in fact, did not know this; he isn't too familiar with hole-covered orbs in the sky. Especially the one that blazes during the day. Which makes him wonder... "Is the other moon this one on fire?" he asks, intrigued by the thought.
Marcello chuckles softly. "No," he answers. "You can see the sun and moon at the same time on occasions. Not that you'd be able to." The thought of this world becoming brighter causes Marvel to tense.
For a few more minutes, they stood in a silence Marvel felt inclined to break. "Do you remember the Faye sisters?" Estee and Lenore Faye. Marvel often wondered about those girls. He had them killed in France a few centuries back.
"Of course I remember them," Marcello answered in a guarded voice. "Did they die inside or outside the circus?" A note of hope was woven into his tight voice.
"They died in the Big Top, Marcello."
"So their ghosts..."
"Unless they decided not to stay."
Breath rushed out of Marcello, but not in relief. In apprehension. A few moments of silence later, Marvel disappeared under the big top, out of the moon's bright glare.
Ideasdon't stay in heads very long because they don't likesolitary confinement.
They died in the Big Top, Marcello. A wave of nausea, slow though certain, rolls over Marcello. It's a strange feeling, and definitely not one that he's used to. So many have died because of him; people in his arms, with a sneering face being the last thing that they see - people yards away, burning alive from his fire. He had never felt regret then. Why does he feel it so strongly now?
Demons aren't supposed to feel regret. They aren't supposed to feel sympathy or empathy or compassion. They're heartless fiends, ones who take the lives of their victims without a second thought. That is part of why Marcello had wished to be a demon - he shouldn't be having these mournful thoughts, these gnawing feelings of guilt.
The breeze that he had found warm and soothing only moments ago has grown cold, void of any comfort. The rustling leaves are no longer a sweet sound, it's all bitter - all tormenting. Marcello sighs and looks towards the moon, expecting to find some serenity, any serenity, in its glow. But even the pale orb seemed to be shaking its head at him, wishing him away.
Marcello straightens his spine, reminding himself that he's still half human. That means that he would feel more inclined to think these thoughts and feel these things, doesn't it?
It hardly matters, not now. All he wants now is to see Lenore and Estee, to assure himself that the other demons - the full demons - haven't been able to lay a single finger on either of them. Kai... well, Marcello could care less about the boy. He was an annoyance. Oh, but the girls... if they were hurt...
Marcello lets out one last sigh. He has other things to worry about right now. People to torment, demons to convince that he was still as heartless as any. He steals one last look at the moon, silently promising himself that whatever happens to the Faye sisters - that he'll be able to laugh about it with the others, and follows Marvel's earlier footsteps into the Big Top.
~~Estee (Eehee) Faye~~
Something behind Eehee bangs, or perhaps it clatters or whispers - whichever one you choose, it startles her. She yelps, pushing herself closer to Kai and cowers at his side. His hand rests gently on her far shoulder.
"Shh, Eehee," he whispers, though his voice holds something. Fear? Or maybe it's just concern, Estee can't decide.
Whichever it is, she relaxes and straightens out slightly, arms wrapping around him for support and comfort. Her fingers dig into his shirt and hold on for all she's worth. "Can you see Marcello?" she asks quietly, eyes growing wide. All she can see is burnt this, run-down that... old wooden bleachers that are cracked in various places, dark corners and old pieces of tattered material lying around at random. No Marcello, no Lenore.
Kai sighs, but Estee can't decide what kind of sigh it is. A happy one? A sad one? Maybe it's an angry one... she whimpers, and before Kai can say anything, she's whispering apologies and a tiny, "Don't be angry with me."
One of Kai's eyebrows is brought slightly higher than the other, though his look seems to be somewhat sympathetic. "I'm not angry, Eehee," he assures her. "No, I don't see Marcello."
Estee frowns and wiggles away from Kai, staring intently at one of the corners. She swears, she had just heard rustling from that direction. A tiny ball dashes out from the shadows, disappearing under a piece of tattered material. "Just an itty bitty little mouse," she whispers, eyebrows scrunching together.
Estee turns back to Kai, rubbing one eye with the heel of her hand. "I'm tired," she announced - a complete change in mood evident in her tone. She gives up searching for Marcello and her sister for now, ignoring the sad feeling she has in her chest as best she can. Her head flops onto Kai's chest, and her eyelids droop.
Kai chuckled and fished the old comb out of an inside pocket of his coat. He'd been keeping it there so Estee wouldn't lose it, something she was very prone to do. He nodded, even though he knew Estee couldn't see it. She probably felt it. "Of course, Usagi," he told her. Usagi- a word Kai's mother taught him in her native tongue, meaning rabbit. The memory of his mother, beautiful, proud, and strong, made him want to cry, but he couldn't. Not while Estee was there to see it.
He backed up a half step and worked the comb into her hair. He pulled it down slowly, gently, as to not yank at her hair. The further down he went, the smoother it became. By the time he had gotten to the ends, her hair shone just a little more, even in the scarce light. He started another section.
Estee started leaning backwards, into Kai's hand, in a way. He took one step so that her tilt wasn't so steep, and then started to bend to the ground. This had happened before. It wasn't exactly the best situation, but Kai wasn't known for how he performed in the best situations, was he? No. He managed to fix himself so that her back was in his free hand, giving her some sort of support.
Somehow, he started thinking of the "itty bitty little mouse" Estee had seen. Did it have a family? Did it want to know why the things around him worked like they did? Did it wonder if the racism that had stolen its father's life was still at work, through all these years?
Just Kai?
Okay.
He kept combing Estee's hair.
hey, Jude, don't make it bad take a sad song and make it better remember to let it into your heart then you can start to make it better.
Antoinette walked slowly through the rows of animal cages. She stopped at each cage, reached her hand in, and pet every animal - big and small - on the top of the head. She whispered to them, telling and re-telling her secrets. They were the only people in the whole circus, in this whole realm of demons and ghosts, that truly understood her. And yes, to her, the animals were people too.
She didn't have much time to spend with them, though. Rumors were spreading that Marvel would be calling for a meeting of some sort. They would be putting on a show soon, on Earth, in America. Antoinette knew that it didn't mean good things for those who would wander into their circus.
She stepped out of the tent that housed the animal's cages and paused under the stars. They were so bright above the trees that rustled their leaves in the summer night breeze. Not much different than the night she... She shook her head, dismissing those sorts of thoughts. That didn't matter now.
Antoinette looked over to where Elysia's wagon stood near the forest's edge, and thought about paying a visit to her friend. The fortune teller was the only - non animal - person in the circus she could consider a friend. It had taken some time for each of the demons to break through the others more...sadistic personas. But now, Antoinette thought of Elysia as a friend, and though she wasn't sure, she hoped Elysia thought the same.
As she stared at the wagon, something caught the edge of her vision. It was Marcello, walking across the circus grounds. A sly smile crept across her lips. She adjusted how the mask she wore sat on the bridge of her nose and ran after him.
"Oh, Marcy!" she called, using her nickname for him that she was quite fond of, but that he didn't quite share her feelings for. "Marcello, dear, come now I want to speak with you!" She giggled as she ran after him. Teasing Marvel's little lapdog always made her feel so bubbly.
Appearance: Axel's lucky in the looks department, and he uses it to his advantage. He has dark hair like in the picture, but it's a lot messier. He also has heterochromia, so his right eye is a clear blue, but his left eye is more of a green colour. He's about 6 foot tall, he doesn't have a muscular build as such, but he's not skinny or lanky either. He tends to dress in messy clothes, rags even, but he manages to make them look rather fashionable because of the way he styles them. The one piece of clothing he wears that isn't rags is his leather jacket which he always, always wears. He had it back from the 1960's, when he became a demon.
Spoiler! :
Act: Hypnotist. (his looks help him with this)
Personality: Axel is a very... unusual demon. He's nothing like, well, nothing like they're supposed to be really and he knows that. He's really rather kind. Whenever he kills or hurts someone, there's a 95% chance that he'll apologise to them first, maybe throw in a compliment, then apologise another 50 times or so. When he's in the process of being violent, he loves it, but then he feels guilty. Overall though, Axel's a giddy, over-excited guy as well as openly gay. He absolutely adores fooling and tricking people. He always fools girls into thinking he's straight, then when they become to like him, he tells them he's gay just to annoy them. He'd never turn to girls though because he's far too obsessed with guys to do that. Boys? He love's 'em.
Axel lacks self-confidence. His looks mean a great deal to him and whenever there's an attractive guy around, he avoids being topless at all costs because he has this weird growth in his chest from a muscle spasm he had as a human. This can cause him a few problems because to be able to hypnotise people, he has to be topless. He's also always worried about embarrassing himself, so it's kind of unlucky that he manages to do that often. That may partly because he lacks some brain cells and doesn't realise when he's doing something stupid or making a fool out of himself. To put it shortly, Axel is a talkative, giddy, self-conscious gay who often wonders why the hell he's a demon.
History: Axel grew up in a very religious family and that caused a large amount of problems for him. He never believed in all that God crap, so whenever his parents wanted to force him and his six siblings to church, he'd literally hide in the forest he lived beside every Sunday to avoid going. His parents always found him though and he was punished by a hard smack for trying to not go to church. When he came out as gay, he certainly got more than a smack. At fifteen years old, after he came out, he was kicked out of his home.
After wandering the streets for a few months, he ended up forcefully selling his soul to an unnamed, mysterious man who he still doesn't know anything about. Either he sold his soul or his siblings would be murdered--it was as simple as that. Axel had always had a knack for hypnotism, and this mysterious man knew that, so that was mainly why he was forced to sell his soul and become a demon. During the changing process, Axel tried to hypnotise the man, so his human to demon transformation went a bit wobbly in places--that is why despite becoming a demon, Axel is kind and always feels guilt for doing bad things.
As explained above, Axel didn't chose to sell his soul. Also, he's actually very new to it all, and he's new to the cirque too. He became a demon back in the 1960's, so he's still getting used to a lot of things.
Up for love?: Dang yeah.
Other: He loves milk, especially goats milk. It's wonderful.
Last edited by Sins on Sun Jun 05, 2011 4:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The mist hung in the air, invading the circus like a content, quiet little army; it brushed against her skin, sending sensations of a long-forgotten time up her arm; which faded into nothing. So quick, so very quick to fade...somewhere in the distance, an grandfather clock struck time. Ding...dong...
A small girl lurked in the distance; she was a ghost, not unlike Estelle herself. The glint in her eyes was not evil, or insane; it was sad, almost troubled. Not long ago, she was sad and troubled as well...but she had gotten over it. And she had learned that the world was as innocent as she wanted to believe...and perhaps, that she herself wasn't...
Her vision rippled as the mist passed through her and covered the area she stood on completely. The small girl hadn't noticed her presence at all...Estelle hid behind a tent just as the girl turned around, towards her, still with that look in her eyes. Suddenly, she seemed so...
So mature.
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world's food and clothes. I am the audience that witnesses history. - Carl Sandburg, I am the People, the Mob
Mist swims through her and glints in the moonlight. Lenore can feel the cool, blissful substance of water, even as it passes through her apparition. After a while, you learn to materialize a little, if only to feel the slight air of a mist or feel your hair fly behind you as you run.
Someone is watching her. Lenore knows this, but as far as she's concerned, they can do what they want. What could even happen? They would kill her? She'd die? A small humorless smile tugs her lips, but the thought is soon lost on her. She sees movement. "Marcello?" she yells hopefully, running towards the sound without really touching the ground.
Eehee is looking for Marcello, and Kai is trying to help her, but God knows how well that boy can pay attention around her crazy sister. God knows how well her crazy sister can pay attention, period. Lenore had slipped away when the two were focused on something Eehee had seen, something beautiful that didn't exist, and that would be forgotten within moments. If anyone wanted to find Marcello, Lenore would be the best choice, in her opinion. Kai thought differently, which is why she had to sneak away.
Much to her disappointment, the shuffling she heard belongs to a group of several teenagers, whispering and staring at various parts of the abandoned circus, the thrill clear on their faces.
"I swear, I've never seen this place before," one says, while another shook her head in disgust and continues berating him for never telling them about the circus. Another girl is turning around. Lenore dissolves into the mist in panic, holding onto the illusion tightly, not before the girl spots her and stares directly where Lenore stands. A notion of uneasiness moves Lenore away from that spot, but closer to the teenagers. The girl's eyes remain staring at that point.
"What are you staring at?" another one of them asks, sounding annoyed. Lenore's grip on the mist slips before the girl has the chance to answer.
Ideasdon't stay in heads very long because they don't likesolitary confinement.
Marcello swore under his breath, willing Antoinette to fall over dead where she stood. Of course, she was a demon... they didn't do that, now did they? His pace quickened slightly. If you ignore it, it'll go away. Wasn't that the way thing worked here?
"Marcello, dear, come now I want to speak with you!"
What were the chances that he could have gotten away with "not hearing that?" Slim to none... Marcello turned, lips pressing themselves into a tight line. His hands were abruptly stuffed into his pockets, clenched tightly. The last thing he needed was the company of a tease like Antoinette. "If you're here to bother me, do it quickly," he said dryly, "I have... other things that need to be tended to."
Estee... Lenore... and, if he could get Kai alone, he'd mess with the poor bi-racial's head a bit. They died in the Big Top, Marcello. He shuddered outwardly, frowning down at Antoinette, who was now standing next to him. Irritating, beautiful Antoinette.
Estee Faye
She leaned back further into Kai's arms, a crooked smile splayed over her mouth. She stayed like that for as long as she could, until she could feel Kai's arm starting to go limp with the weight. Estee thought he was strong; he could hold her like that for so long. She rolled her body slightly to the side, so that the side of her head was leaning against her friend's shoulder.
"I wish that I could be a cat," she whispered, snatching the comb from Kai's fingers. "Only sometimes." She ran the pads fo her fingers over the ends of the picks, sighing.
Kai's reply was quiet, and Estee couldn't help but notice how sad he sounded. "How come?" Sometimes he chuckled when she said things like that, but Estee waited and listened. The slight laugh didn't come- not that she heard, anyways.
She frowned, blinking and looking up at him through her lashes. "Because. Cats can sleep, wherever they want, and they can purr and they always find everything they're looking for." Her mind trailed back to Marcello. Where was he? She sighed, handing the brush back to Kai. Maybe if he finished brushing her hair, she'd feel better. "If I was a cat, I could find Marcello easier."
And Lenore... where was she? Estee closed her eyes, wishing that she could sleep. Her mind wandered, somehow coming across the conclusion that she could. She could pretend, anyways. A fresh smile curved her lips upwards, and the quietest of snores made it through her nose and slightly-parted lips. There. This was sleeping, or at least it was like it. She started thinking of fields, of magical beasts and pretty things that glowed. Now she was dreaming.
Elysia sighed, waving a hand over her crystal ball and turned towards her Tarot cards. She had been listening in on several things, including the going-ons inside the the Cirque. A shudder passed down her spine. She's sold her soul for this? She couldn't believe it sometimes. How could she have been so stupid? Elysia closed her eyes and hung her head.
The Big Top. Always there, Elysia thought, always.
But that was not what she was here to do. Marvel had his answer; she'd told him earlier, before he'd met up with Marcello. Not that it helped. The Ringleader always knew when Elysia had their next location. Not that it mattered now.
With a sigh, Elysia got up and crossed her wagon to the door and stepped out. One step at a time. She hardly ever left her wagon unless it was something she had to do. Frankly, the others....scared her. Except Antoinette, the acrobat. Elysia wasn't too bothered by her. The acrobat apparently prefered the company of animals to the others that wandered Cirque Du Fous's grounds.
Now, where was she headed? Oh, yes. The Big Top, to see Marvel. If he'd talk to her.
"With friends like you, who needs a medical license?" - Paimon, Aether's Heart
“It's easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.” - Grace Hopper.
Tons of cowering! Plus your name in the summer programme. A custom-designed banner. A cabin at Camp Half-Blood. Two shrines. I'll even throw in a Kymopoleia action figure. — Rick Riordan, The Blood of Olympus
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