Cirque Nocturne: Out of Character
You think, as you walk away from the sprawling plantation and into the creeping dawn, that you felt more awake within the confines of the circus.

You are no longer quite certain which side of the fence is the dream.

January 2021


Nov. 9th, 2020



Yay cirque! For those I haven't previously written with, I'm Ana. For the next week I'll have limited availability due to getting the heck out of the USA. Moving's always a crick in the neck. I look forward to picking up old lines and hopefully snagging a new ones.

I have one for you. James is returning as a mirror labyrinth monster. He's a Wendigo. It's not Maybelline, he was born with it. The curse is meant to claim his sanity in less than a year, so he's less put together than he has been in previous games. That's an admittedly low bar. Rock bottom is kind of a second home address for him. The last year he spent feral in the wilderness of B.C. eating First Nation folk and loggers with shitty luck. Excuse his manners while he readjusts to being human. Or don't, that's better.

James is a coarse misanthrope who thinks of people as food more frequently than he does as friends, with exceptions. He's got a very nice bloke he enjoys bothering too much in Grayson, a complex, intense friendship with Cressida, good cop / bad cop with his buddy Max in the labyrinth, and an old pal, travel mate and former coworker in Cora, coming in @ [info]seesthem. He needs everything else: neutral rivals, enemies, a regular hook up with possibly questionable taste for angry workplace stress management, maybe one more friend but that'd cap it, and ideally a witch or magical sort who could help him manage his condition while he continues to look for a cure that doesn't reek of empty promises and placebo sugar. For a price, of course. Open to anything and everything else.