[OOC] Circus of The Supernatural

[Majoraa]

@CaptainSully

How you doin?

Hell yeah! My old character was a jester, so I really look forward to seeing them!

[EchoicChamber]

@Majoras End A scholar would be the best role for her, although I’m not sure if it could count as an act or not, haha.

[Majoraa]

@EchoicChamber

Taking note of the audition for Iristy's character, her act could incorperate voulnteers. Like, they could ask her questions normally tough to find the answer too or something.

I dunno, I'm just giving you suggestions!

[CaptainSully]

@Majoras End Hey there. How's things?

I'm not entirely happy with the audition, was kind of distracted watching the football at the same time Either way I hope you get an idea of what I was going for. If you need or want me to change anything then just let me know.

✦ The Harlequin ✦

_{TRUE NAME} ————————————————————————————

Connor Sullivan

_{DATE HE JOINED} ————————————————————————————

Thursday 5th October 1643

_{HIS ACT} ————————————————————————————

The Harlequin / The Fool / The Jester

_{HIS POWER} ————————————————————————————
_{His power is tied to his compulsion and takes the form of the Harlequins Mask.}

✦ The Laughter is an ability that is neither supernatural or magical in origin, simply being something that happens as a result of his will. It is the ability to make any being whether human or supernatural laugh at his own will. This could be a simple giggle to the extreme of making someone laugh until they die. The deaths result in grotesque corpses with permanent grins of laughter etched into their cold, dead faces. Only those with the strongest willpower are able to resist. Further to this he is able to throw his laugh to confuse and disorientate others.

✦ The Deception allows Connor to exist a moment in time before before all other beings. The split second gives him what is effectively a sense for incoming danger allowing for reaction times far superior to any mortal being. Where the deception comes in is the trickery of he can inflict upon those who gaze upon him. For someone shooting at him, he can dodge the incoming bullet but he can make them think he had been reduced to a bullet riddled corpse.

✦ Compulsions are a performers curse within this Circus. For Connor his is the requirement to keep his mask on when in the presence of others. For all his power and skill, he will only keep it as long as his face is kept hidden from the world.

_{WHY HE JOINED THE CIRCUS} ————————————————————————————

A down on his luck street performer, Connor stood on the same street corner each and every day. No matter the abuse, no matter the threats, he would be there each and every day making the local children laugh and smile. This tenacity to practise his art no matter what stood in his way is what drew the Ringleader to Connor.

_{THEIR BIOGRAPHY} ————————————————————————————

His history is one that he doesn't care to remember either and so he doesn't focus on it. He lives for the moment and the future, seeing history as something that does nothing but weigh a person down. If he truly took the time to reflect on his past he would drown within his own thoughts. Since joining The Circus he has found a home and family that he had lacked in his early life. As one of the earliest and longest serving members he is highly trusted and valued. Aside from his performances within the Circus itself, he has also proven to be a very capable hunter. His unique talents have tricked more demons that any one person would be able to keep count of.

When not performing and hunting he is far from the character he portrays on stage. He is very open, compassionate and makes times for others. Whether it is a new member or someone suffering emotionally, he will go out of his way to listen. The biggest problem he has is his longing for love. He loved once...a woman who joined not long after he did. His inability to remove his mask was no barrier for her and the pair shared a love that blossomed. The sad truth is that after thirty years together she was taken from him by a demon, her very soul torn from her body and feasted upon before his eys. It has taken centuries but he can feel a longing within his heart that eats away at him once more. He wants to feel whole again.

_{HIS CONNECTIONS} ————————————————————————————

Connor is one of the longest serving members of the Circus and takes the time to make them feel at home and comfortable. He is also one of the go to people when more serious threats emerge.

_{HIS AUDITION} ————————————————————————————

The lights dimmed on the empty stage allowing the darkness to blanket everything and everyone in the room. With an audible accompanyment of percussion a spotlight hit the stage to find a crumpled body on the floor. The crowd stared blankly at the motionless mass caught in the spotlight. Moments passed by and people began to whisper, confused as to what they were watching. Then without warning the body rose upright almost as if picked up by the scruff of the neck, leaving the performer known as the Harlequin stood like a puppet. His head hung in his chest with his arms swaying at his side as his shock movement caused gasps to escape from some of the more jumpy audience member.

A thunderous bass drum echoed throughout the tent as slow percussion accompanyment followed behind. The Harlequin moved with each beat, his movements rigid and giving the impression he was more puppet than man. Soon the beat picked up and his movements became much more fluid, much more human like. Then with the crack of the drums once more tha movement and noise ceased.

A soft applause followed as the Harlequin stood on the stage, his hands out to his side and head leant backwards. With a slow movement he lowered his head back to its natural position, his masks cheeky grin on show for crowd. As the applause grew louder he brought his hands together with an echoing clap, the lights turning off dead.

Silence befell the crowd once more as the darkness took over. It was soon broken by a quiet laugh at the back of the crowd, seconds later it was replaced by laughter at the opposite end. With each passing moment the same laugh came from different parts of the crowd, each time getting louder and louder. Then in a blazing lightshow multicoloured spotlights turned on and off on the stage. With each split second of light the figure of the Harlequin mockingly laughed at the crowd. He moved from point to point in what appeared to be an instant, no way would any man be able to perform such feats of speed. The laughter continued to get louder and louder with the lights flickering faster and faster. They flickered so fast it almost seemed like there were ten versions of the Harlequin on the stage. The laughters volume was almost menacing as the performance approached its finale. Then with one last hit on the bass drum the laughter stopped and the spotlights disappeared leaving one lone conical beam of light on the centre of the stage.

There was no sign of the Harlequin, disappearing from the stage in the blink of an eye. Slowly the spotlight rose up towards the top of the tent, illuminating the red and white fabric in the process. Adults and children alike knew what was coming but that didn't stop them watching with intent, mouths open. Then as anyone would predict, the Harlequin hung by his legs from the top of the tent. As the spotlight caught him in his entirety his laugh erupted around the arena once more, stretching his arms out to his side.

What happened next nobody in the crowd could forsee. The Harlequin loosened his grip with his legs and began to plummet to the floor below out of the spotlight. Screams and cries poured forth from the audience as they watched the artist fall to the floor below out of the spotlights gaze. As the light slowly lowered, with the gasps and screams still emanating from the crowd, it revealed the Harlequin stood once more. His laugh filled their ears one last time as he pointed at them almost mockingly. The lights faded on the Harlequin one final time, leaving his laugh to echo into nothingness. The darkness which was often a precursor for fear brought forth a rapturous applause.

_{HIS THEME} ————————————————————————————

✦ The Fool ✦

[Majoraa]

@CaptainSully

Accepted on my end! Just wait for the Co-GM's approval.

[Malice]

I've nearly finished the CS for one of my characters. Shall I post it here when I'm done, or would you rather I wait until I've finished both?

[knifeman]

just an update, my CS is in progress! i was having a bit of a dry spell (and also working on some other stuff) but i've gotten momentum back, so it shouldn't be too long now!

[Majoraa]

@Malice@knifeman

Good to know! And it's up to you whether to post both characters or not, Malice.

[Malice]

Honestly not sure how I feel about this, but is is probably the first piece of roleplay I've written in four plus years. Here is the first character. Let me know your thoughts.

Yseult Ní Eidirsceóil

Le Fantôme Rouge

My Hider

The Date they Joined the Circus (The Circus began on January 1, 1634)
June 24th, 1638


“My act? I’m a mystic, but not a fortune teller.”

“A mystic? What exactly does that entail if you’re not a fortune teller?” Daniel asked the red-haired woman who stood before him, stretching her limbs in a slow, graceful fashion, that she claimed helped to keep her link to spirit world open and clear.
“Traditionally,” Yseult began, the faintest trace of an Irish accent on her lips, not pausing in her fluid movements, “a mystic is a person who pursues truth beyond that of human experience. It is a spiritual link between the divine and the physical. But here? In this circus? My role is not that of a true ‘mystic’, but what people now believe one to be.” Yseult paused, arms stretched overhead, staring at the stars littering the night sky. After a beat, she continued, “I ‘cleanse souls’, whatever that means. Crystals, so called rituals. Hokum, you know. But it makes them feel better when I wave burning sage and chant in ancient tongues. And then they feel better when they leave the circus anyway.” Yseult drew her arms down, resting one hand on her hip; clearly she was done with stretching for now, “I also commune with spirits. Clients like to believe they are the souls of oved ones or guardian angels.” Yseult shrugged.

“Spirits?” Daniel barked a laugh, “As hokum as your cleansing I suppose?”

“Not at all. I can speak with spirits as clearly as I can with you here now.” Daniel could see from Yseult’s features that this was a question she had been asked before and one she was weary of answering. Before Daniel could speak again, Yseult cut in, “and no, it was not the powder granted to me by the Contract. I am a druid, I was long before the circus; I was a mystic. I can bridge the link between realms.”

“So what is your power then?” Daniel queried.

“Healing.” Yseult stated simply. She did not want to divulged further than that. It was no secret that Yseult had an interest in healing and alchemy (when she was not performing she would sell her lotions and potions and sometimes a snake oil or two), skills she had developed before the circus. The circus had just enhanced this power; Yseult could heal nearly any wound in minutes. Unfortunately, this was also her Conviction and it was this that she preferred to keep to herself, for any wound that Yseult healed, she did so by transferring the wound to her own body.

Clearly, Yseult did not want to linger on the matter, so Daniel moved the conversation on.


“Why did you join the Circus?”

“Why? Why did I join?” Yseult repeated the question back to Daniel, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “To save my son.”
“You have a son?” Daniel asked, one eyebrow arched.

“Yes. Well, had, I suppose.” Yseult let out a soft sigh, tears forming in her eyes as she sat on the bench next to the lion tamer. “I doubt a child born in 1635 would still be alive today.” Yseult forced a laugh, although there was no joy in the sound. Wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, Yseult continued, “He caught a terrible sickness. I tried everything, every potion, every ritual, I spoke with every spirit who would come to me but… Each day he got a weaker.” Yseult paused, straightening her posture, and turning to look Daniel in the eyes. “I approached The Ringmaster; I heard he could bring wishes true in return for,” she gestured a hand at their surroundings, “this. I asked him to save Cathal. And he did. Although I never saw him again, he remained with his father in Ireland and I… Well.” Yseult smiled again and, although her voice was still laced with melancholy, it was clear to see that she felt her sacrifice, leaving her home and her family, had been the right thing. Even now, hundreds of years later, it was as clear as the night sky that Yseult loved her son dearly.

“But the contract,” Daniel began, as something crossed his mind, “it lasts seven years. Why did you not return to your family then?”
“Cathal’s sickness was not the kind that you cure once and never see again. It was a sickness that lasted a life time; were I to break my contract, so the spell that prolonged his life too would have been broken.” Yseult’s words hung in the air between them, bittersweet. Finally, Daniel broke the silence,

“Tell me about yourself. You know, your history.”
“I was born in Ireland. I was a druidic priestess; a woman of healing and faith. Druidism has mostly been replaced with Christianity by then, but we were still around, we still existed on the outskirts of civilization. I was married to a wonderful man, Aodh, who I cared for very deeply. He was a druid, if not a mystic, too.” Yseult paused, resting her chin on her hand, a look of fondness creeping across her features. “I love him, even still. Then we had Cathal, who I’ve already told you, got sick and then…” Yseult trailed off and spread her hands, “Here I am.”

Their Connections
(Unbeknownst to Yseult, Daniel is her ancestor. More connections to be added later.)

Their Audition
The tent was tucked away behind the main circus big top; it would have been easy to walk straight past it, had it not been a gaudy shade of green. A glass lantern hung outside, casting a hazy orange glow on a sign that read ‘Le Fantôme Rouge, healer of souls, communion of spirits’, while thin tendrils of grey-blue smoke twined their way from the entrance. The smoke smelt herbal and inviting.

The customer had to duck and push past heavy curtains to enter. The inside was dim; a single glowing orb hung from the centre, while tiny lights flickered around the walls like fireflies. The source of the smoke came from the many filigree baubles that hung from the ceiling of the tent, filing the small space with its evocative aroma. The floor was strewn with pillows and throws, all in shades of inky black or stormy grey, intricately embroidered with golden thread. On a pillow at the far end was seated a woman, robed in white silks, curled, red hair cascading down her shoulders. She looked at the customer and smiled, gesturing in a single, graceful movement for them to sit before her.

“I sense your aura. It is not shining as brightly as it should be, is it?” She asked softly, the vague trace of an accent clinging to her words. The customer shook their head, silently; the atmosphere inside the tent was tranquil, but it felt like if anyone other than the mystic spoke, it would shatter into a thousand shards. The mystic reached into a wooden box to her left and retrieved two crystals; one coloured black, the other clear.

“Onyx, to protect and absorb negative energy. Quartz, to focus energy and encourage balance.” The mystic pressed the crystals into the customer’s palms. “These crystals have been charged in a full moon, the most powerful of all moon phases. Feel their energy surrounding your aura,” as the mystic spoke, the onyx pulsed with a subtle heat, while the quartz produced a cool sensation.

“Now, close your eyes while I invoke the presence of your guardian angel, for they will aid the healing of your aura, they will see it brighten and lift the worries and fears from your shoulders.” The customer did as they were bid, as the mystic called out in a clear, strong voice. Her words were foreign to the stranger, but they sounded like Latin. There was a dip in the ambient temperature of the tent and a breeze was felt, winding its way around the walls, ruffling the customer’s hair and causing the burners above to brush against one another, creating a dull chiming noise. As the mystic’s voice grew, so did the wind, faster and faster, cooler and cooler until suddenly. It stopped, replaced with a quiet rustling of feathers. The customer felt a warm hand on their shoulder, causing them to jump and open their eyes, looking behind them; there was no one there. The mystic was still in her spot opposite, hands folded in her lap, a serene smile gracing her lips.

“Can you feel them?” The mystic asked; the customer nodded, while opening their mouth to speak, but the mystic hushed them, “shh. Relax. You are protected now. Just breathe.” The mystic mimed with her hands a deep inward breath and then a slow exhale; she repeated this several times, as the customer mimicked her. “Your aura is already much brighter.” The mystic spoke softly, her gazed focused just behind the customer. “They say that you should not doubt yourself so much. That you should trust your instincts; they will guide you, they won’t let you go wrong.” As the words left the mystics’ lips the feeling of contact left the customer’s shoulder, and the faint rustling of feathers sounded again. The mystic returned her gaze to the customer and, taking their hands in hers, brought the two of them slowly to their feet. The mystic carefully took the crystals from the customer as she led them to the entrance of the tent.

“How do you feel?” She asked, pushing aside the heavy curtains, allowing the cool, night air to wash over them both. The customer nodded.

“Relaxed. Calm.” They spoke with a crooked grin. The mystic smiled her gentle smile again.

“Good. And so it shall be. Your angel is watching over you.” The customer nodded again, a mumbled thank you, before turning and disappearing into the crowds. The mystic watched them retreat, silently, before slipping back inside her gaudy tent, letting smoky tendrils coil into the air.

[mercenarius]

I'm gonna have to dip out of this due to a family emergency.

Have fun y'all

[Majoraa]

@mercenarius

Thanks for letting us know. Your character will be an NPC till you decide to return.

[mercenarius]

@Majoras End I have no intention of returning to this game and you do not have permission to use my character as an NPC. RP has not started, as of right now he has absolutely no importance to the story and his particular niche can easily be filled.

There is absolutely no reason to keep him around as an NPC and you do not have permission to do so.

[Archmage MC]

@mercenarius I think the GM was doing that so you could just hop in when your life got back to a spot where you could play.

As for everyone else, how should our characters know each other before the RP starts? Mine is fairly recent to the circus for example.

[Majoraa]

@Malice

Looks good, await the Co-GM's approval.

[Temporary]

@CaptainSully@Malice Tasha’s Hideous Laughter: Cantrip Edition and Occult II: Electric Boogaloo are both good by me. Feel free to move em on over.

[Ferrocerium]

This isn't finished - I'm still trying to find a good picture, and fill out the connections, and make the audition, and I'll probably draft up some additional puppets - but I just wanted to post it to prove that I'm still working on the darn thing and maybe get some feedback.

The Stringmaster

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, CHILDREN AT PLAY AND CHILDREN AT HEART, THE CIRCUS OF THE SUPERNATURAL IS PROUD TO PRESENT

COLIN MIRTHRIGHT

AS...

THE STRINGMASTER

and his GAGGLE OF COLORFUL CONTRAPTIONS

His Appearance:

A Proud Member of the Carnival Family Since: August 11th, 1963 (date of first contract); August 11th, 1958 (date of arrival)

The Carnival's Resident: Puppetmaster and Ventriloquist extraordinaire / Handyman and Fixer-upper / Demon Jailer
- "I will not disobey the Ringmaster."

Why He Joined the Circus:
Once upon a time (which is how every good story starts) there was a little boy and a little girl. This was Colin, and his twin sister, Maisie. Little Colin and little Maisie were orphans, passed between orphanages and foster homes like a bad cold for as long as they could remember. One day, at yet another orphanage, they overheard the sister superior saying that the twins would be split up, and sent to different homes a very, very long way away.

They ran away that very same day.

Lost and hungry, the twins wandered until they arrived at the most magical place in the world: the Circus. It was like nothing they had ever seen, filled with sounds and smells and tastes and sights unlike anything else anywhere. The twins fell instantly in love, and when the Circus packed up and moved on to its next destination, it was with two new members in its ranks.

Years passed, and little Colin and little Maisie weren't so little anymore. On the day they turned eighteen, the Ringleader - the father of their happy, shiny new family - offered them the chance to join the fight against the forces of Chaos, and they agreed immediately. Colin became a magnificent ventriloquist and jailer of the Circus's unfortunate prisoners, and Maisie became a sword swallower and swordswoman of preternatural skill. Some say she was the best the Circus had ever seen. With their new lives and new duties, the Mirthright twins lived happily ever after, because that is how all good stories end.

Such a shame, then, that this isn't a "good" story, and no proper tale is complete without a little tragedy...

Biography
At some point in the eighties (that's the ones in the twentieth century; thanks to how old some members of the Circus are, it helps to be specific), Colin decided that he needed to take a break from the Circus, and when his most recent contract was up, he set off on a sabbatical. He ended up finding a job at the Jim Henson Creature Shop, where he did some work on the puppets that would appear in Labyrinth. It was a good way to develop his skills as a puppeteer and creator of puppets, and it was a breath of fresh air to step away from the Circus, although he knew he would go back one day.

But he didn't realize just how soon that day would be, and the awful news he would receive.

While Colin was away, Maisie stayed with the Circus, becoming one of the best daemon slayers the Ringleader had ever seen, and probably ever would see. In battle, she was a brilliant blur of bright colors and flashing steel, trailing blood and laughter wherever she went.

But one mission, she bit off more than she could chew, and Maisie Mirthright never came home.

At the news, Colin raced back to the Circus, but his sister was already gone. After that horrible, dark day, Colin was never the same. He was quieter, more muted. He still loved the Circus like his family, and the Ringmaster like a father, but he began to prefer keeping his own company, and tending to his puppets. In the years since Maisie's loss, he's made remarkable strides towards becoming the joyous man he once was, but he still has a long way to go.

Connections
- TO BE FILLED IN

Audition
- Here, I want you to describe your character's act from the perspective of one of the visitors of the Circus. It should evoke a sense of wonder, of joy, of excitement, or some other emotion. Have fun with this. I expect it to have a beginning, middle, and end. No novels are needed, but this will be the main deciding factor in accepting or rejecting the CS.

His Puppets:

Aside from his impressive collection of mundane puppets, both handmade and acquired over the years, Colin's "Special Collection" is made up of a very special kind of puppet. The Circus doesn't always destroy the demons it faces; sometimes, they're left with prisoners, and it's part of Colin's job to keep them locked up. His magic, bestowed by his contract with the Ringmaster, allows him to imprison demons inside specially-created puppets of Colin's own design, each one with some magical component at its core and hidden runic inscriptions turning them into the perfect jail cells.

Typically, these Puppets are indistinguishable from mundane puppets, except when they're in Colin's hands. Colin is able to "channel" these imprisoned demons, using his ventriloquism to speak through their puppets. This also gives Colin control over the magical abilities they had in life, which are also transmitted through the puppets.

Colin's puppets fall into one of three classes, each with their own benefits and drawbacks.

Dummies

The classic ventriloquist's dummy (although most of them would rather not be reminded of the fact). Dummies are manually operated through one hand shoved up where the sun don't shine. Dummies are typically the weakest of Colin's puppets, containing minor demons such as imps, will-o'-the-wisps, and lesser spirits. They're used more for utility and performance than combat, but that's not to say they don't have inherent advantages over the other classes. Since they're so weak, Colin can use two of them at a time (one on each hand), and still retain almost total control over their magical abilities. This allows Colin to combine their powers, giving them impressive versatility. Still, given the choice Colin would use a Marionette or a Costume for combat, but Dummies are the mainstays of his performances at the Circus.

Marionettes

A type of puppet operated by strings attached to points of articulation. Marionettes are the happy medium between the versatility of the Dummy and the brute force of the Costume. They are used to contain demons of "average" strength - examples - and like all of Colin's puppets, they retain their magic and personality, with Colin literally pulling the strings. Unlike Dummies and Costumes, which remain in constant contact with Colin by design, Marionettes are able to keep some distance from their puppetmaster, roaming at most fifty feet from him. They still have strings, but those are mostly aesthetic, if we're being totally honest here. Colin controls the Marionettes through magic.

Unlike Dummies, which are by and large pushovers, Marionettes are a bit more difficult to operate. Colin can only use one at a time, and he remains in control, but the marionette is entirely capable of exerting its own control in a moment of weakness.

Costumes

The heavy hitters of Colin's collection. Costumes are used to contain demons too powerful for Dummies or Marionettes - ogres, witches, wraiths - and accordingly, are only used sparingly, and with the Ringmaster's permission.

Costumes are, in the simplest terms, costumes with animatronic components, ranging from man-sized to as big as a car. Thanks to Colin's magic, he is able to operate even the largest alone, but the most powerful Costumes are as much a danger to his allies as his enemies. Given half the chance, the demons imprisoned in Costumes would break free and rampage through the Circus, and it takes everything Colin has just to direct that animosity at whatever he wants to get smashed. Costumes are only ever used when they are absolutely necessary, and even then, only with the Ringmaster's explicit permission.

Kammie the Weasel
"AND I CAN DANCE WITH YA HONEY, IIIIF YA THINK IT'S FUNNY, DOOOEEES YA MOTHER KNOW THAT YOU'RE OUT?"
Class: Dummy
History: A kamaitachi who crossed the Circus's path outside of Nagano in the sixties. She was one of Colin's first puppets, and she's probably the most fond of him out of all the Puppets in his Special Collection. She'd still love-love-LOVE to bust out of her Puppet and cut him to ribbons in the process, but hey, he's a nice kid. Like a little brother to her. But really, the main reason for her good behavior is that she's a natural diva and loves to perform. Particularly the best hits of ABBA, which she runs through a squeaky woodchipper.
Appearance: A cartoonish weasel wearing a kimono. She was one of the first Puppets Colin ever made, so she's got some flaws - her eyes aren't symmetrical, and the sleeves of her kimono aren't equally long, for example - but that just gives her character.
Abilities: Kammie grants minor aerokinetic powers, and she's especially good at creating sharp, cutting winds. She also makes Colin much more nimble, allowing him to jump far higher than he would be able to normally.

Peter Pyro
"I don't want to set the wooorld ooon fiiireee... ooh, wait, no, wait, I do! Silly me, always forgetting."
Class: Dummy (stick puppet, specifically)
History: Peter was a will-o'-the-wisp that wandered into the Circus one day, spent some time looking at all the sights, and decided: hey, you know what would really improve this place? A bit of fire everywhere. Thankfully, his capabilities didn't measure up to his aspirations, and he was easily captured in a mason jar after destroying a funnel cake stand that needed to get replaced anyway. Colin made a puppet to contain the little fire spirit, where he has remained ever since as one of his more agreeable puppets. Honestly, he's a nice enough guy, even if he's ironically not very bright and always trying to convince Colin that it would be a great idea to set something on fire, you know? It doesn't have to be something big, Pete's not greedy, but he's not going to complain if it screams a little bit. Personal preference. Please?
Appearance: A fireball with a mouth and large, round eyes on top of a stick.
Abilities: Peter gives Colin minor pyrokinetic abilities, letting him create and control fire. He's also able to set himself on fire, never burning up despite being made mostly out of felt and giving off light like a torch.

Buster d' Troll
"Lots people say, 'Buster, you big an' ugly an' stupid an' smell bad'. Den dey say 'no, no, please don' rip moi leg off, oh no, you jus' ripped moi leg off, argh'."
Class: Costume
History: Buster d' Troll was encountered by the Carnival lurking under a bridge near Luxembourg back in the seventies. He was exceptionally resilient, even by troll standards, and it was eventually decided that flat out killing him would be too much work. And that's why he's now stuck in a Costume the size of a sedan. He's one of Colin's most used Costumes, mostly because his distinct lack of anything like intelligence makes him very easy to control by Costume standards. Still, most members of the Circus know that it's wisest to give Buster a wide berth in a fight. There's some debate on what constitutes a "safe distance", the general consensus is around a full city block.
Appearance: Twice the size of a very large man, Buster is mostly sculpted foam around a fiberglass skeleton, and he looks like a butt-ugly, grayish-green, hairless gorilla with bad posture and a beer belly.
Abilities: Buster is basically a truck with a single digit IQ and a short temper. Extremely strong, not very fast, and amazingly hard to hurt, even if he's made out of foam. Buster is Colin's main front-line fighter, dragged out of storage whenever something needs very badly to be introduced to Buster's club, Buster Jr.

The Porcelain Woman
Class: Marionette
History: Nobody knows. Colin doesn't talk about where she came from; in fact, he doesn't like talking about her at all. She stays locked up in her own trunk, buried in the back of Colin's wagon. The only reason anybody even knows that she exists is because of the one time she was ever seen, during a massive siege on the Circus back in the nineties. The Ringleader begged Colin to bring "her" out, and Colin nearly broke his compulsion and refused. Finally, he relented, and the Porcelain Woman was seen for the first and only time as he carried her out of storage.

The next day, the assaulting army had been broken and was on the run. The only people who saw the battle were sworn to secrecy by the Ringleader himself, and Colin hasn't brought her out since.
Appearance: Large for a Marionette, the Porcelain Woman just a bit smaller than Colin, made out of cracked, weathered porcelain. She wears a pristine white dress, with no shoes or jewelry. She has long, black hair, and green eyes that look like they were plucked from a human face.
Abilities: The only people who know aren't telling, but it's clear that she displays remarkable power for a Marionette.

[Irisity]

I'm gone for a day and suddenly there are 34 new posts loool

[Majoraa]

@Ferrocerium

Niiiice!

---

Also, the first IC post is in the works!

[EchoicChamber]

@Majoras End The power that a character possesses can be unrelated to what their wish was for, right?

[Majoraa]

@EchoicChamber

Yeah, usually their powers are connected to their act.