Carnivale!(Veera)

[circa.cipher]

OOC: This thread's purpose is for character development and meeting new people. Hooray! It's also a good seven years in the future from "current" Muhir time.

A platinum blonde, for that's the only color that could be used to describe the hair, sat placidly on a bench near a mid-day market. Glancing around at the people in it, she felt somewhat like a predator. Giggling some at her silvery blue fingernails, she scratched her naked, pale leg. She was collecting quite the amount of glances, and was unsurprised. She was quite the character, after all.

Biting her lip, she toyed with the buckles on her shirt, yawning softly as the shadows grew longer. Nothing eventful seemed to be going on today, and she sighed slightly unhappily, standing from the bench and pointing her feet towards each other. Her fingers raveled together and she twiddled her thumbs, looking as lost as possible. Maybe a boy who thought he could handle her would approach and she'd be able to suck the life out of him. Well, not literally, but that would be a fun sentiment. Giggling some at her own thoughts, she glanced up curiously through her freshly trimmed bangs.

"Now where was it that that carnival was going on?"

[soulbrand]

Amongst the otherwise vibrant attire of Veera stood a pair of dull pink rabbit ears, attached to a chullo designed to mimic the face of the animal. They moved and flopped, bending and standing upright, as each step and weave carried the man—Souban—to and fro, his drunken comrade slang atop his left shoulder.

Fear not, Bacchus, there will be plenty of wine for, I am sure. Adjusting his burden he would press on, his gait carrying him from the group of people overly eager to hear the merchant’s newest call, a drop in prices so radical they would go from a casual pace to a sprint. Tripping over the hurried steps of a large woman Souban would trip forward and slam hard into the ground, the nose of the rabbit drooping to cover his eyes. Adjust the hat he would stand once more, his gaze seeking out Bacchus who lay scattered ahead a few feet. With a wave his hand, the hilt would snap swiftly to his palm, before he slung him once more over his shoulder.

All to his embarrassment, right in front of the girl with the painted fingers, with a soft "Oi."

[circa.cipher]

As she began to wander forward through the crowd, Echo's path was halted. A man had stumbled and taken a spill in her path. Or was he a rabbit? She giggled behind her hand as he adjusted his hat and summoned his sword back to his palm. She glanced casually at his weapon and found her fingers rubbing a piece of her own weapon, for it had no hilt. It began to glow a faint blue at her touch, and she pulled her fingers away, letting the light die once more.

"Do you like carnivals?"

He seemed like an interesting enough man, a bit tongue-in-cheek, maybe. Seeming to be too impatient to find his answer, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him like water through a strainer. People were no match for Echo. Even if he had wanted to refuse, he would certainly have found her offer attractive; such was the nature of her voice. Very few people could refuse the temptation her voice provided. She had spent seven years honing her skill with it, and had no intent on stopping anytime soon. She could finally speak normally. She remembered when she had been ten and hadn't been able to speak at all. Laughter spouted from her bow-shaped lips, a warm, vibrant sound.

"There it is!"

A large tent had begun to appear ahead, covering the sun. It seemed almost daunting in its size, a sickly yellow color.

"I love carnivals! Hurry up!"

She tugged him harder, moving quicker through the thickening crowd. It seemed they weren't the only guests.

[soulbrand]

Before he even had a chance to protest, the wrist of Peter Rabbit was grabbed and he was yanked on a quest towards the carnival, all the while Bacchus beat in protest upon his backside. “I uh, well we have never really been to on—“ There was no time to talk now as Souban was dragged through the crowd all eagerly awaiting the start of the festivities.

It was those rabbit like features that swayed, bent, and became dirtied as they brushed the vibrant blouses and shoulders of natives of Veera; they were really filthy (at least to Souban) for it being so early in the day, then again, who was he to talk? Without a free hand since the stumble he hadn’t even been able to brush himself off properly; oh well.

“Oi, well yes I am trying my best to hurry! It just seems that this crowd has become quite akin to quicksand, the wrong step to the left or right and bam! Trapped!” It was as he spoke did he have to press on his toes, leaping upward and over a child, his wrist locked like an anchor to the girl.

[Augustus Zeuthorian]

Augustus who was passing by the scene whistling a soft melody which he had himself created with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black colored baggy trousers where all of the events took place, would simply turn his neck a bit to look at the pair who seem to be waltzing away through the crowd.
"huh?!"
The next moment Augustus raised his right hand as his face scrunched into a small frown, his left foot displacing a bit as he shouts after them
"HEY!!!"
His voice a thunderous roar yet a small amount of humbleness could
He was unsure of what he saw for it was just a fraction of second but he had to act and be quick at that as well. The next instant he dashed towards them, pushing aside some people that were in his way and evading some in a flawless rugby style.
"WAIT UP!!"
He shouted again although his first shout would have been enough for both of them to hear but just to make sure.
To him it all seemed like as if the man was forcing the lady away, it might have been an optical illusion or simply a misunderstanding but he did not want to take any chance thus, he acts rashly.
His silver hair bouncing with each step he takes and his bangs just missing the tip of his rather pointy nose.

[pandapirate957]

Laurette was a small-statured girl with dark red hair and a light freckles on her nose. She was classically beautiful, but her face was usually filled with a confrontational glower. She didn't talk to many people, but was often talked to. She was rather wealthy, and was only at the carnival in the first place because her father was judging some sort of beauty contest that she was too short to enter.

She disdained everything about this place. The people were energetic and loud, the food was greasy and smelly, the rides were old and jerky with a fresh coat of paint to disguise it all. Her parents loved places like this, but as the seventeen-year-old was thoroughly spoiled, she wanted nothing more but to go home and disappear on one of her horses.

She exchanged a crisp one dollar bill for a cone of cotton candy, waving away the change and stood to the side away from everyone, watching the activities with an evident boredom.