#just how utterly happy he is with the chaos that devolved on the ice

[ratatatastic]

kuli thinking kids wouldnt be excited and immediately mob him when he has a shiny trophy in his hands is funny in retrospect but like WHAT DID HE THINK WOULD HAPPEN 😭😭😭

they did mob him and everytime i think about it i cry LIKE LOOK AT HIM. JUST SURROUNDED BY GAGGLES OF KIDS

Kuli Cup Day | 8.25.24 (x)(x)

woe is the guy who has to take the shiny tincan away from him he is not giving that up without a fight those are GRIPPERS

[cessairhuxley]

                                                                    I N T R O

Hexxus:  Cessair Huxley [ Cessair Def: ‘sorrow’ or ‘affliction’, Huxley Def: ‘inhospitable place’ ]  Age, 35.  Birthday, 27th October, 1983.  Starsign Scorpio ( ascending virgo, moon in cancer ). 

Trope - Magnificent Bastard

Capturing the audience with their charisma, incredible intellect, mastery of manipulation, and boldness of action, this character is a show-stealer.  

They are brilliant and utterly devious, a smooth operator. They are also savvy and do not fall for obvious traps; bringing them down is no easy feat.

They are charismatic, often charming, their personality is like a physical force. While they exist on the darker end of the moral spectrum, they never take disgusting actions that undermine their magnificence, leaving them diabolical but in a way the audience can’t help but enjoy. And they are definitively not cowards. Ever.

                                                     P L A Y L I S T

Ultranumb - Blue Stahli Violated / So degraded / The show has just begun / Dominated / By all you hated / This will make you ULTRAnumb / Confession Is such / Perfection / Your sweet / Repression / Can’t hide  / Who you really are / Say you love it / Don’t pretend that you’re better than this / Malevolence goes both ways

Throne - Bring Me The Horizon So you can throw me to the wolves / Tomorrow I will come back / Leader of the whole pack / Beat me black and blue / Every wound will shape me / Every scar will build my throne

Blindfold - Sleeping Wolf Pull me in / No, I cannot resist / Every time your gravity has a hold on me / Shed your skin / You’re just a counterfeit / Dressing up an empty heart, I know who you are / So use your, use your / Use your, use your blindfold / Cover your hands on my eyes, closed / Do it again / Tie me up and show me what’s real / Hate your love, but love how you feel / Useless, trying to fight / And the truth is, I’d rather be blind

Stole The Show - Kygo No heroes, villains, one to blame / While wilted roses fill the stage / And the thrill, the thrill is gone / Our debut was a masterpiece / But in the end for you and me / Oh, the show, it can’t go onWe used to have it all, but now’s our curtain call / So hold for the applause, oh / And wave out to the crowd, and take our final bow / Oh, it’s our time to go, but at least we stole the show

                               I N  C H A R A C T E R  I N T E R V I E W 

How do you feel about the Exodus?

“Isn’t it wonderful???”

A slice of a grin, sharp as any blade cuts across those almost serpentine features.  It’s quite clear from the sadistic glee that taints those words that the so called ‘tragedy’ that had befallen the fables was, in this case at least - more of a boon.  It’s not the first world he’s found himself in.  It’s not the first place he’s been allowed to roam, to pick apart the corners of existence like the oil slick stain that dripped in his chest where most would expect a heart to be.  It’s not the first place The Nothing has been drawn to – and whether he was sent, or pulled, or tossed like the latest piece of garbage rolling along filthy asphalt, he is here.  And that’s all that matters.  When this place is gone… Crumbled, ash and dust, decaying and – d e a d.  There will be another.  There always is.

Meanwhile, he’s nestled in his booth at Wonderland.  Lounging deep in the plush seat - There’s something about the way he takes to a chair which makes him seem more like a liquid than a solid.  There was never any ‘perching’, no ‘sitting’, it couldn’t even be defined as ‘slouching’.  Just a way of going from standing to a casually recumbent state - looking as though he’d been occupying said piece of furniture for vastly longer than the fleeting moments he’s actually been there - the martini which is delivered to the table only a moment later testament to that fact.

“Limitless potential, rampant chaos, complicit corruption, spiralling self destruction… and here – ”

There’s a sinuous shrug, fingers trailing the cherry around the glass on it’s little stick, gleaming red, reflecting the lights of the club as though it were an ember ready to ignite.

“ – the bad guys can win.”

Was it hard adjusting to life in Fabletown? Do you miss the Homeworld?

“No, and, no.”

It’s a fairly straight forward, very direct answer.  Why would he miss the saccharine boredom of that place???  Where people smiled inanely all day ( surely a sign of some kind of deeper communal psychosis in his opinion ), where they sung happy little ditties which were nausea inducing at best, horribly revealing, over sharing and a big ole slice of ‘TMI’ at worst.  It makes his new found flesh creep at the mere thought something of a burgeoning migraine teasing into place between his eyes with the harshness of an ice pick driving through his skull.

Why would he miss the constant drudgery of eternal predictable ‘happy endings’.  Where traits like ambition, pride, deceit, manipulation and the like are all – undesirable.  

Here – oh, HERE, they’re keys.  Which unlock the aforementioned potential.  Things to be admired, wary of, respectful of – fearful of.  A place where it’s not the biggest sword, or brainless bravado, or the glimmer of light that stands victorious - but the sharpest mind, the patient darkness, the sweetest lie.

Where is your favorite place in Fabletown or New York?

“While Wonderland is so dearly – enchanting.  And the delights we have to offer are implicitly and uniquely spectacular, I do sometimes favour – other – kinds of amusement… And there are plenty of places in this city to be – entertained.”

While he says little else on the matter publicly - there are a few who frequent said establishments who would see him as something of a regular voyeur.  A foot into the Four Jacks isn’t unusual - a test of skill or luck in a gamble here and there.  But that’s not the main draw of the place.  While he can see tantamount supple bodies and exposed flesh in a myriad of forms at Wonderland, it’s all a little too – pristine – to sustain those darker desires for long.  The money he carries into the casino isn’t for a trite game of poker, or a clicking slot - it’s for the more visceral purveying of brutalism.  The Underdrome, with broken bones, shattered skulls, blood in fountains aplenty.  Those combatants pitched in delicious instinctive battle.  It’s human nature to – f i g h t.  To devolve to that primal brain where the only thing that matters is - survival.  

To hate, to hurt, to harm, to kill.  – Chaos unleashed.

It’s all rather good fun, really.

How do you feel about magic? Do you think it should be banned, regulated, or neither?

There’s something of a ‘tchh’ between his teeth, a click of a tongue like the rattle of bone dice.  The martini he’s been nursing finally lifted from the table so that he can sample a little of the sweet-sour flavour on his tongue.

“The only people who care about controlling or banning magic are the ones who either a) don’t understand it or - and the likeliest option - b) don’t have it.”

“Jealousy, perhaps.  Little green eyed monsters clamouring for something beyond their grasp.  Fear - of the unknown.”

Just another delightful little weakness to exploit.

Who do you think killed Little Red Riding Hood? Please also indicate here if you would like for your character to potentially be the killer and, if so, what their motive would be.

“I have no idea why my opinion would matter either way.  I’m sure the NYPDs finest are on the case and doing… whatever it is they do between their copious consumption of donuts.”

Does he care???  Not particularly.  

And macabre as it sounds, even the death of Red hadn’t particularly hurt business.  In fact - it’s booming.  As much of a highlight as she was, the morbid fascination of the populace drawing them to a place that might be connected to a grisly murder was stronger – they come for the freak show, like vultures snapping at the eyes of corpses – they stay for the entertainment.  The bodies beautiful.  The liquor which loosens tongues and wallets both.  

The real fun is the almost tangible tremble that ran along the spines of every other fable.  A suddenly looming mortality.  A copious and present paranoia.  A fearful herd, a flock, scurrying around and jumping at shadows – in which, someone of the right persuasion could see their way to taking advantage…

…To that end, I set my wolf among you sheep.

hello!  i’m g, older than dirt ( over 21... ) - GMT.  <3