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alias: Jonah
character age: 27(27)
character act/position: fire dancer
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Joined: 20-December 14
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Last Seen: Dec 30 2014, 10:45 AM
Local Time: Dec 7 2016, 11:17 AM
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Jimmy Romero

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Dec 23 2014, 01:45 AM
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<div class="phant">
<div class="cold"><div class="coldd">
I chased you to embrace you like the sun chases the moon<p><p>
I burn you and you burn me but I know I'll see you soon
</div></div>

<div class="toyou">
<div class="matters">
tags: Eloise
<p>
notes: I hope this works~! And sorry, the outfit link is there, it's just invisible...
<p>
outfit: HERE
</div>
</div>

<div class="leavesus">
<a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=3777"><div style="color: black;text-transform: uppercase;position: relative;top: 389px;
left: 180px;font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;font-size: 7px;">ϟ nic</div></a>

<div class="indah">

Jimmy ran, ran damn near as fast as he could, his heart racing and his legs and lungs burning. His shoulder was in excruciating pain, the front of his shirt soaked red and reeking of the thick scent of blood. He knew he couldn't keep running for much longer, but he had to, he had to get away. He pushed himself to his absolute limit, gritting his teeth and choking past tears, until he could finally reach the car. He collapsed, grabbing the handle and shaking it, fumbling until he could finally climb in.<p>

He slammed it behind him, but as he felt for his keys, he realized very slowly that he wasn't alone. He could hear someone breathing, soft and silent, in the back seat, as if they were doing their best not to be detected. He paused, before looking slowly to the mirror, heart racing and hands trembling, only to see-
<p>

He woke abruptly there, the dream cutting off where it always did. He'd get so close to seeing who had done it, to seeing who had been the man behind the mask, when suddenly, there'd be nothing more. He should have been used to it by now, but instead, he was really just freaked out by it worse every time the dream came around. He stared up at the ceiling of the train car, taking deep, ragged breaths and trying to calm down, blankets tangled around his legs and his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He let out a small sigh through his nose, sitting up and trying to collect himself, checking the time and considering his options.<p>

It actually wasn't that late... He'd skipped dinner and crashed right after the show, so it was pretty much just an hour or two after the fact. Maybe he'd grab himself a snack and some coffee, if it wasn't too late... No, if he hurried, it wouldn't be. He kicked off what was left of his covers, looking down at his bare chest and admittedly odd(but very comfortable) sweatpants, the colors bright in contrast with the rest of the room. He stood out a bit, especially with all of his scars, but hey, he didn't look too bad. He could go as was.<p>

He grabbed an old comic before he made his way quietly out of the train, headed across the grounds towards the cookhouse. The grass was freezing and damp against his feet, but after a few minutes, he made it, slipping inside the tent and brushing a hand through his thick hair, leaving it stuck up like some sort of ruffled hedgehog. It was pretty much empty, and he wondered for a moment if maybe he was too late. Should he have just headed back to his bunk? He sighed, frowning, and was about to consider it, before deciding, hell, he might as well sit up in here for a while. He took his comic and took a seat at one of the long tables, getting comfortable and looking up and around a final time, making sure he really was alone. He could get pretty paranoid about that, especially after dreaming.

</div>
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<div class="timeshows">
I'VE MISSED YOU, YOU KNOW THAT'S TRUE, AND I'VE RETRACED EVERY SCAR
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[/dohtml]
Dec 22 2014, 04:58 PM
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<a href="http://lecirquenoir.com/index.php?showtopic=2458&st=0&#entry11018" target="_blank">Hope you're not an easy bruiser. » COOPER BLACK</a>
<a href="http://lecirquenoir.com/index.php?showtopic=2459" target="_blank">something cursed from the start. » SALVATORE GOTTI</a>
<a href="(LINK HERE)" target="_blank">THREAD NAME » NAME</a>
<a href="(LINK HERE)" target="_blank">THREAD NAME » NAME</a>
<a href="(LINK HERE)" target="_blank">THREAD NAME » NAME</a>

</div></div></div></div></td><td><div style="width: 200px; height: 202px; background: #fff;"><div style="width: 200px; height: 180px; background: url(https://38.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_me3np2imkm1rj97rjo6_250.gif);"><div class="three"><div class="itscontent" style="margin-top: 38px;">

<a href="http://lecirquenoir.com/index.php?showtopic=2451" target="_blank">application</a>
<a href="http://lecirquenoir.com/index.php?showtopic=2453" target="_blank">shipping</a>
<a href="(LINK TO WANTED AD)" target="_blank">wanted/other</a>

</div></div></div><div style="width: 190px; height: 12px; padding: 5px; background: #000;"><div style="width: 190px; height: 10px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8px; padding: 1px; color: #fff; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: uppercase;">

27 - FIRE DANCER - BEN WHISHAW

</div></div></div></td></tr></table></div></div><div style="width: 440px; height: 12px; padding: 5px; background: #000;"><div style="width: 438px; height: 10px; font-family: calibri; font-size: 8px; padding: 1px; color: #fff; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 3px; text-transform: uppercase;">

JIMMY ALEXIS ROMERO

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I awoke
Only to find my lungs empty
And through the night
So it seems I'm not breathing
And now my dreams are nothing like they were meant to be
And I'm breaking down, I think I'm breaking down

And I'm afraid
To sleep because of what haunts me
Such as living with the uncertainty
That I'll never find the words to say
Which would completely explain
Just how I'm breaking down

Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Maybe I'll sleep when I am dead
But now it's like the night is taking sides
With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind
Could it be this misery will suffice?

I've become
A simple souvenir of someone's kill
And like the sea
I'm constantly changing from calm to ill
Madness fills my heart and soul as if the great divide could swallow me whole
oh, how I'm breaking down

Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Maybe I'll sleep when I am dead
But now it's like the night is taking sides
With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind
Could it be this misery will suffice?
oooohhh my life

Someone come and, someone come and save my life (save my life)
Someone come and, someone come and save my life (save my life)
Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Could it be this misery will suffice?

</div></div></div></div></div><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=3048"><div style="width: 450px; color: #000; font-size: 6px; text-align: right;">❀</div></a></center><style type="text/css">.itsawrap { background-color: #e5e5e5; width: 200px; height: 192px; padding: 5px; } .litsin1 { width: 200px; height: 190px; overflow-x: auto; overflow-y: hidden; text-align: left; } .litsin1::-webkit-scrollbar { height: 10px; background-color: #ffffff; } .litsin1::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb { background-color: #000000; } .litsin2 { width: 2000px; height: 180px; } .itscontent { display: inline-block; vertical-align: top; width: 190px; height: 184px; text-align: center; line-height: 150%; font-size: 8px; font-family: calibri; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; overflow: auto; color: black; padding: 0px 5px 5px 5px; } .itscontent a { display: block; background: #fff; text-align: center; color: #000; height: 10px; font-size: 8px; font-family: calibri; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1px; padding: 3px; line-height: 100%; margin-top: 4px; padding: 10px 0px 10px 0px; } #foryou {width: 450px; height: 300px; position: relative; overflow: hidden} #foryou .one { height: 222px; width: 450px; overflow: hidden; -moz-transition: 0.8s; -webkit-transition: 0.8s; -o-transition: 0.8s; opacity: 0; } #foryou:hover .one { opacity: 0.99;} #foryou .two { height: 56px; width: 450px; overflow: hidden; -moz-transition: 0.8s; -webkit-transition: 0.8s; -o-transition: 0.8s; opacity: 0; } #foryou:hover .two { opacity: 0.99;} .three {height: 180px; width: 200px; overflow: hidden; -moz-transition: 0.8s; -webkit-transition: 0.8s; -o-transition: 0.8s; opacity: 0; } .three:hover { opacity: 0.99;}
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Dec 21 2014, 11:52 PM
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<div class="phant">
<div class="cold"><div class="coldd">
I chased you to embrace you like the sun chases the moon<p><p>
I burn you and you burn me but I know I'll see you soon
</div></div>

<div class="toyou">
<div class="matters">
tags: Cooper Black
<p>
notes: I hope this works~! And sorry, the outfit link is there, it's just invisible...
<p>
outfit: HERE
</div>
</div>

<div class="leavesus">
<a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=3777"><div style="color: black;text-transform: uppercase;position: relative;top: 389px;
left: 180px;font-style: italic;font-weight: bold;font-size: 7px;">ϟ nic</div></a>

<div class="indah">

Jimmy stood on the grass outside of the coal black trains, warming up for his later act, dressed rather... Unusually, to say the least, in his efforts of combating the cool New Orleans morning air. He was barefoot, oddly enough, as he quite liked the feeling of the grass below his feet, but the clothes he had on were what made him stand out. Light blue tights adorned with orca whales, along with a navy cat hoody, decorated his lithe and scrawny frame, the sweatshirt especially baggy. His hair was ruffled and stuck up in about twenty different directions, as if he'd teased it up, and he had a rather odd expression across his face, a crooked smile filled to the brim with an almost crazed excitement.<p>

He was, totally and absolutely, focused on his craft. A slight whistling accompanied the quickly spinning poi weights, almost a blur of shape as they twirled and spun through the air, controlling them with slight flicks of his wrist and turns of his arms. He had a large and rather vibrant pair of neon pink headphones in, the music coming from them only spurring him on further, keeping him so focused he hardly noticed the rest of the people around him. He got in a certain headspace when he was spinning poi, and it was a good thing they weren't on fire yet, as well, yeah, he was in his own little world right now. He was practicing a new trick, in which he tossed the weights up, and caught them in reversed hands. It was easy enough on paper, yes, but actually doing it was difficult, especially when he was sober and tremored the way he did.<p>

He prepared himself, taking a deep breath, before tossing them up, managing to catch one. He felt a strong sense of excitement, but he had celebrated prematurely; the other he had totally messed up, watching as it sailed a few feet away, knocking right into who he recognized to be one of the main acts(he didn't much care for the word "freaks"), smacking into the back of the man's head with a loud thump. Jimmy's eyes went wide, and he looked beyond embarrassed, rushing over and shaking his head, grabbing the poi from the ground and setting a hand on the man's shoulder. "Oh shit, man, my bad, are you alright? Fue un accidente, lo siento mucho, yo no estaba prestando atención..."<p>((Fue un accidente, lo siento mucho, yo no estaba prestando atención ... //It was an accident, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention...))

</div>
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<div class="timeshows">
I'VE MISSED YOU, YOU KNOW THAT'S TRUE, AND I'VE RETRACED EVERY SCAR
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[/dohtml]
Dec 20 2014, 11:35 PM
Trigger warning: death, gore, drug use, self harm, attempted suicide.[dohtml]<div style="width: 525px; height: 410px; background-image:url(http://i.imgur.com/FuG4Mwt.png);padding: 5px 0 5px 0;"><table cellspacing="5px;"><td><div class="app1"><div class="app2">

Jimmy lay on the cool sheets of his bunk, rather sore after a day of exhausting work. It was exciting, yes, it was daring and mind-blowing and overall spectacular, but it was also exhausting. It was the kind of work that, on any other usual circumstance, would put him right to sleep. But tonight… Tonight, he was thinking, and when one goes into as deep of thought as Jimmy was finding himself in, it made it difficult to sleep. He stared up at the ceiling above him, letting out a soft hum and rolling to his side, tucking up under the blankets as he did so to try and get more comfortable. With the types of things swimming around in his head right now, again, it was difficult.<p>

First and foremost, he was itching for a good drink. The kind of cold, stiff drink you could knock back and just forget about everything. That, or a few Xanax would do him just swell. Or maybe even both, as that often seemed to get him through the night fairly well. Ever since signing up for this adventure, just a few weeks prior, he’d found that his alcoholism had far from been quenched, but he’d also found that it was taking a little more to actually get him drunk. That was worrisome, to say the least, as it made him a little desperate. He’d been considering lately the type of drugs that would put Sid Vicious to shame, and his will to stay away from such things, on the base principle of losing the last remnants of his control, was dwindling.<p>

He tugged his covers up to his chin, closing his eyes and trying to think of happy things, happy thoughts. He had always been the type to try and keep happy, even if it was just a mask, through times of... Difficulty. Think of Sammy... Though it had been about a year since he’d seen his son, he did certainly plan on seeing him, if he ever got a chance to go back to New York, and if his damned ex would let him see the boy. She often didn’t, which was why he hadn’t seen him in so long, and the last time she had, she’d told him that it wasn’t even worth trying. That he wouldn’t be seeing his son if her life depended on it. It wasn’t that he didn’t try, or that he didn’t care; it was that she didn’t.<p>

He missed New York, too. He missed Sammy, and his sister, and New York, and Dios los bendiga, he missed his mother and father. He had had an easy childhood with them, and they had treated him well. Aside from the rather heavy conflict that arose with his coming out of the closet, and the subsequent attempt by his mother to have him exorcised, most of his life was happy. Hell, he’d been in a band, he’d been popular, he’d even been selling CD’s. That, is, until, well…<p>

He didn’t want to think about that, but he was nonetheless. Until his friends, his band, his partner, the family he’d made for himself, had… Died. The word was still hard to wrap his mind around, that powerful four-letter word. Died. He didn’t know what drove some people to evil, he didn’t, but when evil had found him, it had done its job to dismantle all he had built for himself. It had taken from him, one by one, his cousin, his best friends, his partner, and his sanity.<p>

He had been on Joel’s farm about two years prior, the large, gorgeous expanse in Louisiana, where he’d been living at the time. His partner, being rather wealthy for a drug dealer, was able to own such a large share of land as he had. Caterine, his cousin, along with his best friends, near siblings, Erin and Kyle, were with them, and they’d had themselves a… Celebration. The party was over, and though the drinks were away, everyone remaining- that just being the five of them- were more than a little intoxicated. That had changed when the first gunshot had been fired from a stranger, a man hiding in the barn, when the warm spray of Caterine’s blood and brain matter had found itself across the side of Jimmy’s face.<p>

The police told him he was lucky to have lived through the attack. They told him that the information he’d given them was enough to give them a good lead on finding him, on finding the man who had done it. They said the attacker’s motive was most likely the money Joel had, the money he kept hidden in his house that he was pretty open about. Jimmy had looked under the bed when he’d been allowed in the house, and yes, the safe had been gone. They said if Jimmy hadn’t been as athletic as he had, so able to run faster than his pursuer, thanks to those years running track and climbing, the single shot to his shoulder as he made it to the car wouldn’t have been all he had left with. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have left at all.<p>

But the knowledge hadn’t helped him. It hadn’t brought back his friends, or his partner, or his cousin. It hadn’t pulled him out of the vodka he drowned himself in, or the pills and speed and dope he’d used to fuel himself. The hole he’d dug had been deep, and to just climb out was becoming impossible. He lived his life in a chemical haze, and had he not found an enjoyable activity to keep his physical therapy interesting, he’d have used his only good arm to end himself then and there. But he had found poi, the art of spinning tethered weights, and he had taken to it like nothing else. It gave him a good way to keep his bad arm busy and recovered, working at its best. It kept him focused and away from self-harm, something he had certainly dabbled in more than once, burn scars from this littering his arms and hands and even legs. It gave him a reason to be sober, for at least the few hours a day it took to practice and keep his art going. He’d evolved, even, to spinning fire, which had been what had drawn him to his latest career… To the circus.<p>

He’d always been a bit of a showman, a natural performer, and a talent like his was one that could really draw a crowd. He’d been amazing as a musician, with his born charisma and his overall stage presence, and he had been just as well as a street poi performer, making most of his money that way, and off of CD sales, as if there was one thing he learned, it was that tragedy sold. Everyone wanted his music now that the rest of the band was gone. He had put all he could of it away to keep Sammy safe and well, before taking his share and blowing almost all of it on drugs, vodka, and other such distractions. Needless to say, it hadn’t taken very long before he was in serious trouble.<p>

He’d been wasted, off his mind on vodka and Valium, when he’d taken the knife to his wrist. Everything had built up to be too much, and in his intoxicated state, he’d seen no other option. He had been inebriated enough, and frightened enough, however, that he hadn’t quite cut deep enough; he’d lost enough blood to black out, but he’d woken up the next morning, a towel to his wrist and in a puddle of broken glass and vodka, and in the middle of an epiphany. He had lost control of his life, and if he didn’t find a way to get away from it all, to start over, he was going to end up dying, and though this was something that he was all for when under the influence, the thought that he had almost died the night before was now rather terrifying. So, he had gone for a walk.<p>

He had spend the next five hours wandering, until, as if by some cosmic sign, he had been handed a flyer, for a local circus. One he had heard many things about, in passing at parties and through acquaintances. He’d heard that it was a place for those who didn’t have one, for freaks and performers and oddities and the like, and well, yes, he’d heard that it was also fueled by black magic and witchcraft and perhaps Satan himself, but… Fuck, what did he have to lose? He had a talent, he was a bit of a freak, and it wasn’t like he was allowed to see his son. It wasn’t like his family was all that proud of him, he didn’t have that to say goodbye to. He didn’t have anyone with him currently, any reason to keep going otherwise, anything to fuel his will to live. Besides… He had missed his stage.<p>

So with that, he had made his way over to Le Cirque Noir. He had signed that contract, he had said goodbye to everything, he had taken to his poi like never before, and he had found himself here, weeks later, lying on that cool, cool bunk in the New Orleans night, reflecting on what had brought him to that point as he teetered on the edge of sleep. He had wondered more than once if this had been the right decision, but before he could get back into that fear, he closed his eyes, and forced himself to stop his thinking. He made himself to relax, and he eased himself towards the release of unconsciousness, and finally, finally, he had found himself asleep. This was very good, too, as he needed his rest.<p>

He had a show to put on in the morning.

</div></div></td><td><div class="appPIC" style="background-image:url(http://oi57.tinypic.com/10gld9g.jpg)"><div class="appNAME">Jimmy Romero</div><div class="appINFO"><div style="height: 100px">27/27<BR>Ben Whishaw<BR>fire dancer<br>performer</div><BR>jonah<BR>18/est/genderqueer, he/him/his or they/them/theirs pronouns</div></div>
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