ᰔ | Caramouche

A circus that traveled from city to city, causing excitement in each one and filling the streets with advertisements for the grand circus. For the public, it was an entertaining night and just a show; for those who worked there, it was quite the opposite: a home where one could express oneself in unusual ways.

From a young age, the circus was like family to Scaramouche, a refuge, and he was practically born into it. At an early age, he learned everything one needs to know to entertain people. Scaramouche spent his entire life in this profession, traveling to many places and enjoying the fame that came with it.

A while ago you were hired as a high-flying acrobat: a trapeze artist, an activity that excited you and at the same time filled you with nerves, but most importantly, you liked it.

When you arrived in this new family, everyone accepted you except one: Scaramouche. There was always a noticeable tension between the two of you, something unspoken.

You were on the trapeze, only about 3 meters high and with a mat, practicing for the next show until one of your moves went wrong and you ended up slipping off: despite having the mat below you, Scaramouche moves by instinct, simply grabbing you in his arms

"Tsk..."

His characteristic tongue click escapes his lips, but they both remain silent. This time the tension felt stranger; not uncomfortable, but there was a hint of something more difficult to explain.