cirque-minki

[cirque-minki]

I'm back! (finally!) 

First of all I apologize for my long absence. For those who are interested, the reason is here. This took me way too long but I experienced a major mood roller coaster and writing wasn't easy. Now that this is finished, though, I really feel like getting back to rping. So I'll try to answer all of my posts today and whoever wants to plot, just drop a message. 

That being said.... phew it feels good to be back.

[cirque-minki]

Okay, I know I haven't really gotten started here yet and I still owe two replies (as far as I remember). However, there's this fic challenge coming up and to say I'm hyped to participate would be an understatement. I already got the plot and everything sorted out. All that's left is to write the darn thing and it's gonna be one bitch of a lengthy bastard. I'm so immersed in the story that I can't think of anything else anymore. So until I've written that shit up, I'm afraid I won't be making any replies or just very very few. Please bear with me. I'm usually a fast writer so this will only take a little while. Still... I'm sorry. OTL Please bear with me. I know I haven't been all that active here yet because of various reasons but the time will come! Just a little more... 

[cirque-minki]

I noticed that I'm totally lost when it comes to knowing who is who's second or third account. This is so confuzzling. orz 

[cirque-minki]

  The faint odor of parfume and a hue of shampoo or lotion lingering on the cushions filled his nose as the offender was lying there, on a mattress so doubtlessly owned by a women, and somewhere deep within this made Minki feel all too elated. Just as he had made himself comfortable on the foreign sleeping spot, her voice married into the air to eventually descend to caress his eardrum. Whilst her words suggested her not to have been blessed with intellect, her reaction was utmost satisfying in Minki’s ears. It had been a while for him to trick someone other than through the usage of cards, and the mental breadth necessary to beguile individuals outside the strict laws of a game was a challenge much accepted and appreciated. Her dull babbling, for once, didn’t disturb him the slightest. Even though he usually harboured a rather poignant aversion towards even the slightest idiocy.

The tone of her voice and the imagination of her face – cheeks most likely puffed, hands stemmed onto her waist and a gentle tinge of rouge stretching across her nose – merged seamlessly into a picture that Minki could only label as cute.  All too vividly, the trickster could imagine her standing where she did, facing his unmoving back with the exact mixture of fury, confusion and curiosity that her voice displayed dancing across her soft features. Lists of possibly fitting nicknames for her were already assuming metaphorical shape in his mind, though did the male pay extreme care not to give away any of his inner workings to the female, lest he’d reveal his intentions or ruin his plans.

He kept occupying the mattress that was obviously not his with a nonchalance that might as well be testimony to his disinterest for her words. Due to the raven-head’s disregard, he missed the remark about his apparent lack of adorableness, having been too occupied naming hers. Gingerly and accompanied by a theatrically deep sigh, Minki eventually turned to lie on his back once the cataract-like flows of words concluded in another question, which was obviously not Minki’s to answer. By now, the male couldn’t help one corner of his lips to curve upwards, though he fought the urge. His hands folded under his head as he readjusted his position, keeping his eyes closed before the low bass of his voice filled the tent in a drawl that could only be blamed on early mornings.

“No, as you have well observed, I’m not Bom,” he paused and pried his eyes open a slit to witness her reaction as he proceeded, “I’m obviously lacking the… resources.”  The last word was emphasized not only vocally but as well accompanied by the hint of a grin on his lips, hoping that was indication enough for her to grasp the meaning. Her last query was left to be ignored, the question of his identity left unresolved in the air between them, as Minki was reluctant in disclosing all too much information about his person just yet – mystery would surely keep her interested. Instead he tried to satisfy a bit of her curiosity with another approach; offering a solution to her last posed problem.

“I don’t know why you don’t know me. It’s quite quizzical to me too. Maybe we haven’t met before, which is actually quite the pity. Such a formidable lady shouldn’t have missed my attention.” The smile on his lips morphed to a gentle, if slightly mischievous one. “Right now, I was in process of getting a little relaxation, though. If you don’t mind, I’d cherish a bit of silence.”

Of Golden Sunflowers | Sunny & Minki

Weirder things had happened to her, really they had. And so Sunny barely blinked when the guy entered. Living with the Cirque for years on end did that to you. It desensitized you. Of course the initial calmness soon got replaced by something that was most definitely curiosity on her part. However, the guy looked just about as fazed as a potato (and no potatoes weren’t easily distraught in case you were wondering) which brought another question to her bleached-blond head. 

The first question being something along the lines of “Who the hell is this guy?!” for obvious reasons, which left the other question to deal with why he appeared so calm. 

Puffing her cheeks without even thinking about it Sunny slowly lowered her hand, which caused her to drop the dress she’d volunteered to fix for her tentmate (after all, she was the one who had ripped it during the effectuation of her admitedly marvelous prank. and it hit the floor with a hardly audible thud. There was eye-contact, that much was sure, but Sunny still had to admit to not knowing what was going on in the slightest.But, as mentioned previously, the tall intruder seemed to be all together rather relaxed under the whole situation which led her to believe it had been his intention after all.

If his look meant anything, that was. For the look she was receiving suggested it probably was her who was mistaken in a pretty convincing manner. Really, it had the girl overthink the entire thing yet again, only to come to the realization that ,yes, it was her tent and yes, she was supposed to be there.

So one could understand her bafflement when Minki saluted her and laid down on a bed. It wasn’t hers, the colours weren’t bright enough, but it surely wasn’t his either. It was Bom’s. Obviously, she reasoned, because that’s where Bom had slept ever since she had arrived.

“You’re not Bom.”

As far as first impressions went Sunny had to admit this didn’t ensure a good one. And it would definitely lead the guy to question her intelligence. So, she decided to do a little damage control and started to ramble. Because really, that had to be the best thing to do in this situation.

“I mean..I know you’re not. Bom is a girl, you see. And you’re very much..not..a..girl. Besides Bom has red hair. And your hair isn’t red. And really..you’re just not as cute.”

had she really challenged his cuteness? Apparently she had.

“What I meant to say was..why aren’t you Bom? Wait. No. That snds weird, and I can imagine you have your reasons..But..well, if you’re not Bom why are you in her bed? Oh, and who are you? Why don’t I know you?” Her last remark had found it’s way to her mouth, and she’d voiced the thought it had been and was supposed to stay. Because that had been the real issue. Who was this guy? Obviously new..You don’t just walk into random tents and claim random beds around here. At least, not as far as Sunny was concerned. But she made an effort to at least get to know the names and respective faces of new members and this guy..well with this guy she just drew a blank.

It was peculiar, if anything.

[cirque-minki]

A Jester's Luck | Minho & Minki

“Oh, how very unfortunate,” the low bass exclaimed with a theatric exhibition of empathy, which was mirrored to almost abstract perfection by its owner’s features. Another round had tragically ended in the absolute destruction of the luck-seeker’s hopes, whereupon the game master’s lips offered a compassionate smile in all its proper wryness. No one would have guessed that, underneath the colorful farce, lured the less lustrous sincerity of greed and self-gratification. The more he won, however, the more the trickster’s features changed. With every win to his favor, Minki’s eyes sparked with amusement that he quickly hid as he regained proper composure, and there was a small twist to the corners of his mouth, a little twitch that let them rise just a little higher than appropriate.

It wasn’t the aspect of victory that was poison to the raven-head’s demeanor – there was nothing for him to gain from the visitors but a few Won, a small bit of extra money. No, what managed to instigate such reactions were the expressions of the unsuspecting bait. How their eyes widened in utter surprise and then narrowed in on their personal subject of suspicion was a reaction to ridicule. And the more the evening progressed, the more temerarious Minki became. His expression slipped more often to the resemblance of a sneer and the satisfied gleam in his eyes gained visibility as if testimony to the Machiavellian truth behind his luck. 

Once the main attractions were over and done with, however, the crowds gathering at the trickster’s table were slowly but surely diminishing. At the realization, a sensation of boredom materialized in his stomach, gaining almost tangible weight. When the last baffled spectator had left with a frown and a nixing shake of his head, Minki felt the void catch up to him again. He was more reluctant than ever to pack his belongings and call it a day than usual, and so, reaching for a yet-not-existing cigarette in the back pocket of his jean, he cast a glance around the emptying space surrounding him.

His sable-rimmed eyes soon fixated on the figure of a man standing nearby. The other was staring and it took Minki a few seconds to realize that he was the very receiver of that scrutiny. Retracting his hand from his pocket, the corner of the trickster's mouth curved to a smile and he waved the other over with an inviting gesture. The man was, as quite obvious by the way of familiarity he moved, a member of the circus as well – A fact igniting a spark of excitement in Minki’s gut. “How about it,” he called out, unable not to tinge his voice with a hue of ridicule as he elaborated, ”We’ll see who’s luck is better, mine or yours.” 

[cirque-minki]

I've been to the docs again and the latest blood test showed that I basically spanked the virus's ass sore (the non-kinky way - I don't know why my metaphors always seem seuxal in some way...). 

In other words: I'll be fully recuperated by the end of April. I will have beaten a sickness that usually would take months (if not even years) to fully get rid of within a few weeks. Needless to say I'm ecstatic! I also feel as if a great deal of my incredible luck is attribute to all the well-wishes I've received, so I wanna thank you guys for that. It must have helped! 

So since not only my mind but my body, too, feels all but rejuvenated - when even still slave to the uncomfortableness of sickness -  I feel well enabled to finally roleplay properly! It will hopefully rain replies and starters within the approaching minutes. So be prepared! Hohoho~

[cirque-minki]

Of Golden Sunflowers | Sunny & Minki

Blithe with the bliss of morning and a wide smile stretching idly across his lips, Minki might have well been the embodiment of Allen Ginsberg’s idea of internal human biology. “We’re all golden sunflowers inside,” Minki couldn’t agree more on this particular morning.

Sunlight settled on his emerging figure with a touch of warmth that laced his skin in soothing shivers as he exited his tent. His mind was filled with a pleasant vacuum that seemed to swallow every thought in its very birth, a welcome metal nirvana that the trickster hoped of lingering for another while. Whilst he didn’t encourage rudeness, Minki preferred to be ignorant in early morning hours to enable himself to bask in his own blissful oblivion for a little longer and, briefly, nursed the hope of not walking into anyone who’d provide him with the cure to his sleep-hazed abeyance. 

Stiff and slow in his movements, Minki advanced his designation only slowly and his morning philosophy was just as comatose and tenacious as his gate suggested, not contracting any bit of muscle that wasn’t strictly necessary for his body to perform movement. He washed himself deliberately as he reached the installments, lucky to find them free.

The mistake – one may blame it on sun-kissed mornings – occurred on his way back to the tents. One turn was taken wrongly, his surroundings not memorized completely, and a yawn turned colorblind for a moment too long. The result had Minki find himself in rather astonished company of a female, which in turn, left Minki quite bemused. As if her being at the wrong place valued a higher likelihood, the other cast a glance around the tent, searching for non-existent familiarity. It took a while too long for Minki to get comfortable with the realization that this was not his tent, all the more saddening, not his bed.

His brain was kicked into gear at the situation what brought great unpleasantry upon his being and as he considered his options, the tricksters gaze traveled back up to the girl. She was quite pretty and what her facial features might have lacked in refinement, boasted her breasts. The girl might be worth getting into trouble, he decided, before he saluted to her cheekily and lay down on one of the beds, silently praying it was hers. They were alone in the tent wherein a cleanliness reigned that suggested no one to be back for all too soon. Turning away from her, he closed his eyes with a Cheshire-grin crowning his lips, waiting for her reaction like a feline predator waiting for its pray to peek out of the bushes.

[cirque-minki]

So I've been at the hospital

Maybe you’ve wondered where I’ve been all this while – or maybe not. The following happened: I was at the hospital since my fever was unstoppable and I started having a lot of difficulty breathing. Now since 12 days of illness is definitely too long for a normal disease, I got checked up thoroughly. With the result of my body being host to the nastiest, most painful, most contagious virus known of.

They told me it will take at least two months until I will start feeling better and another month to full recovery…. at best. There’s patients who had this thing for a year, apparently. I don’t even wanna think about the possibility. No wonder, though, since there’s no medicine against it, just massive amounts of painkillers and anesthetics and pity and quarantine.

All in all I’m tied to the bed for the time being, with the exception of the regular blood tests I gotta do since this little bastard of a virus can cause various little lethal bastards of illnesses. Hip hip hurray!

[cirque-minki]

Sleepless Nights | Tablo - Minki

Deep black clouds scratched at the sky and obscured any extraterrestrial illumination behind a veil of grey as Minki stepped into the open night. Thick slough wrapped around his shoes in an attempt to devour the material but the trickster’s focus was solely directed skywards. Rain dripped from the heavens’ in a tender caress to the earth, a hydrophonia filling the silence between early morning and night’s fading bliss. At this hour, not even the birds were making a sound.

He took a breath thick with humidity and herbal essences and pried his eyes open again. The vista that greeted him was a canvas washed to slurs by the falling waters but not the less picturesque with it’s merging colors of dancing specs of fire, contrasting softly to tents and woods bathed in slate blue. Combined with the sounds filling his ear, it was a marvelous mise-en-scène and despite the spring's cold biting through his jacket, warmth blossomed in Minki’s chest. A feeling close to amenity engulfed him before he marched across the scene with quick, nimble steps.

Finding shelter under the baldachin of the big performance tent, he faced eastwards, ready to witness the sunrise, which he presumed to be in less than three hours. There was something strangely calming about watching the horizon combust in bursts of color, sending spectrums of light chasing across the hemisphere to eventually overrule the darkness. Maybe he was actually interested in the poetic aspect of the spectacle. Though the mere thought of him turning into a philosophical nitwit, drowning in the dire monotony of bookish idiom evoked a soft chuckle from his throat. Minki shook his head at his own early silliness as his fingers fished lighter and cigarette out of his pocket. Once set aflame, a deep drag was taken in and released into the fleeting night, concoction of grey curling carelessly into nothingness.

As he was standing, one arm wrapped around his midsection and elbow supported on his hip, a figure extracted from the shadows. Darkness had cloaked them in invisibility and thus evaded Minki’s attention until the approaching party entered the area illuminated by the torches adorning either side of the canopied entrance. If he had been startled, the trickster didn’t let it be noticed but cocked a brow into the direction of the arriver in unhidden curiosity. Soft crimson-gold flickered across the stranger’s features and a jolt of recognition shot through the realty twister. He’d seen the man’s face by chance, an interesting combination of soft features framing sharp eyes – The other must be a performer too. One of which had caught Minki’s curiosity. There was something indefinable about this man, adjectives seeping through his fingers if he tried to label him with a fitting attribute, a thought too volatile to cage. He stayed silent for what might have been too long of a while before Minki eased himself out of his position and offered an outstretched hand in greeting, the habitual half-smile crowning his lips. 

  “Lee Minki, pleasure.”

  Full of unexpected encounters they were, those sleepless nights. 

[cirque-minki]

Seeing all the rps going on makes me itch to rp. Dhdjsksihh Someone cure me!

[cirque-minki]

★ Hottie of the Week ❤ Lee Min Ki ♔

[cirque-minki]

I am totally overwhelmed by your warm welcomes! Thank you very much!

[cirque-minki]

Application - Test Para

“Don’t you ever regret it”, a tuft of silken curls gushed over her shoulders and tickled her naked thighs as she shifted her weight and pulled her legs against her front, “ I mean, don’t you feel bad for all the innocent you shamelessly beguile? That’s pretty much a crime!” The girl’s eyes widened as if in sudden epiphany and Minki suppressed the impending sigh of exasperation, stifled the sound in its very birth, and yawned instead. How he had ended up in company of such a dimwit was dulled away by the aftermath of severe intoxication and maybe, the thought occurred, the latter was the reason itself. There was no way the young male would have picked up a girl with the intelligence quotient of a Russian third class prostitute which not even her – bathed in the soft gold of morning quite spectacular – beauty could make up for.

  Her rambling had been going on ever since Minki had awoken in a bed that existed of too much lace to be his own, and therefore, he hoped to belong to her and not be owned by a parental unit, the later promising to be a dread he wouldn’t want to face with a hangover. Light was crushing through the windows as she felt the need to pry the curtains open and send arrows of pain piercing through his lids, all serving to highlight the persistent headache gnawing at his head. He even entertained the thought of tugging her back to bed and silence her with his own mouth, just so she would stop adding to his displeasure. A kiss would probably suffice to have her forget about her choice of topic and he’d watch the blossom of her curiosity blight as their conversation would flow, more and more, to pleasantly shallow waters. There was no apparent desire for her, however, although she was not bad of a courtesy to the eye but Minki would do anything, really, to get her off that terribly straining topic.

  A sly half-smile tugged at the corners of his lips and he merely nodded as another, far more pleasing idea assumed shape in his head. Leisurely, the young male reached for the pieces of clothing scattered about and cast a last glance at her features that would soon twist in shock.

  “Terrible crime, indeed. By the way, there’s a small fire in the kitchen. You should check on that.”

  It was worth the lie, Minki decided, when he watched a multitude of expressions cross her features before the pungent odor of burnt plastics reached her dollish nose and he barely managed to retain a facade of nonchalance as she put on a sprint at a speed he hadn’t known her capable of. And while she busied herself to fret over the bagatelle of a fire – which was really merely more than a flame – Minki gathered his belongings.  He left the flat through its front door with a light skip in his gate, her screeches building the melody to the three quarters cadence of his steps. 

[cirque-minki]

Follow the Scallywag, Minki!

Name: Minki Age: 24 Home Island Cottage Assignment: #369 Tent Assignment: #23 (Tan) Skill: Minor reality changes via lies.

On first experience, Minki’s ability might not be perceived, though if one pays close attention on how he deals his cards accompanied by what seems to be habitual small talk then one might notice a systematic pattern to his supposed conversations. Never will Minki deal out his cards with his lips sealed for his words are wherein his special ability lies. To be more precise, is it his lies, which enable him to manipulate the current reality to his wishes. Thereby Minki purposefully lies about some fact and through his ability, then, reality will change in order for his lie to become the truth. In actuality such scenario might look like the following: Imagine Minki playing a shell game, him being the one shuffling around the cups and thereby being aware of where the coin is. Assuming the coin were to be in the rightmost cup and the player were to guess good and point at the correct cup, Minki would purposefully lie by saying that the coin was elsewhere. So solely by lying, his statement would become the new reality and when lifting the cup, the coin would not be in the rightmost one anymore, since Minki changed its position through a twist in truth with his lie. This ability of changing reality through lies is obliged to two rules, however. First of which, is that Minki’s utterance mustn’t be the truth but a lie. His ability will only take effect if he himself is aware of his statement being attribute to dishonesty. Furthermore can he only use his ability in changes that won’t affect or evoke intense emotion. For example can’t he will a person to cease to exist for at least someone will react with some kind of feeling upon their death or disappearance, be it grief or happiness and neither can he crown himself king of the entire globe since there’s bound to be emotions attached to the previous realty in which he wasn’t world dominator. This second limitation to Minki’s ability is also reason why the young trickster will never be found playing against individuals caught in dire desperation to win (for his abilities won’t work on a person who would get too worked up over loosing). Another vast penalty for the user of such ability is that the specimen being tricked will be well able to notice the flaw in logic created by the use of that endowment. Elaborately, this means that if a person were to hand him a joker card and being aware thereof and Minki would use his power to change the value of the card, the one having given out the card to Minki would, through logical conclusion, notice “that something just can’t be right” since the card they had given him wouldn’t be the same anymore. Seeing through his trickery is possible for whoever pays close enough attention, even if they don’t know about the supernatural origin of the fraud.

Member Status: They’ve arrived two days ago or so. 

Performance Details: For Minki is a gambler and trickster beyond compare, he’d flawlessly perform magic tricks in all their antique prestige. Letting objects disappear or making carpets fly, his stage potential is as limitless as are his lies and usually filled with a lot of playfulness and humor.Whether it be the main act or walking through the rows during breaks to entertain the spectators with card tricks, Minki doesn’t mind either and will do whichever uppermen or his fellow performers prefer.   Background: Having grown up in the care of a prostitute, there wasn’t anything in the world that bore an estranging concept to him, or so Minki would describe his rather open-minded attributes if he were to be asked. He’d been raised exposed to a multitude of sights never to be seen in a proper man’s life. Insofar Minki had never considered sincerity to be of value, all the more in a world consisting of egoism, fraud and the sovereignty of aristocracy. At the age of seven, Minki had made an acquaintance that would pose permanent influence on his life. A customer of the woman he’d meanwhile known not to be his mother by blood but still by heart, had caught a liking in the young scallywag and spent a few minutes of his visits teaching the kid card tricks and a wonderful shenanigans he’d called ‘magic’. Minki had been intrigued and only a year later, the kid had mastered the art of its trickery to a level of which allowed him to earn a little pocket money. The kid started showing off his magic skills on the street and quickly learned how to earn profit, a few coins for candy slyly pinched from other kids on the street or the brothel’s customers. He’d always been a wicked yet clever boy with a stunningly perspicacious sense and so Minki soon discovered his ability, though cunning as he was, he never lost word about it. Soon Minki made a name for his own on the streets of ever-changing citites with people gathering around him in hopes of profit. He’d soon surrounded himself with something close to a gang, which he called his friends but that word never held any fondness when spoken by him. When the young male reached the age of 21, the woman who had taken care of him like a mother had fallen victim to sickness and died within little time. Her death was cause to a period of white-washed veins, pushed back and forth between hazed frenzies, short cons, alcohol excesses, guns, and unspoken truths. He changed locations more frequent than beds and lying became essential for his existence. There was no growing sick of something so commonly made use of as dishonesty, yet in these days a bitterness gave birth to a layer of thick sarcasm and irony that would cloak him in solitude for the rest of his life. Only a year after he’d been left on his own, loneliness had swallowed him whole and despite his brighter self starter to resurface, the bitter aftertaste remained. There was no such thing as mutual trust or kindness, a fact he knew best, master of lies he was, and so he the bonds he forged were never woven by emotion. Every action of human kind was based on their salvage of self and Minki had been too aware to reprieve himself with oblivion – he didn’t even want to bother about finding out about the truth of sincerity anymore, rare as it was. Omnipresent was the burlesque feint he put on around others as not to betray his true intentions and keep the farce of being just as commonplace as everyone else up. The phlegm, thick sarcasm and an air of irony that had developed thereby were what brought most of Minki’s success as a trickster and what simultaneously made him target of the one or other ripped off companion’s animosity. Not that he cared, and betraying the ones who called themselves his friends became a necessary ritual to prove such. Of course someone would notice the special ability that had been perfected to mastery by the time he’d grown to be 24 years of age and so it came that, one day, the trickster had been invited to join a community of others of his ilk. Ridden by curiosity and the promise of a new adventure, he hadn’t spent a second thought – which, in hindsight, he might better have – and yielded to the offer to join. Personality: Stoic yet utterly playful, bright but subject to depravity; to express Minki’s personality one makes use of a variety of antagonisms. He’s the guy, who will always be wearing a confident smile and exude an air of nonchalance. Though through the verso of his capacities true sentiments of benevolence or affection aren’t to be expected from the likes of him. Life is a game and he makes the rules. Everything that can be regarded as a means of merrymaking captures his attention, why Minki never shies away from conflict. Gambler, he is, he pushes his luck ever once too much. While he’s not fearsome of violence, however, he entertains a high unwillingness to experience or induce bodily pain. So rather than engaging in a fistfight, he prefers the mental battles for a playground.

[cirque-minki]

I want to know what passion is. I want to feel something strongly.

Aldous Huxley, Brave New World (via larmoyante)