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Ezekiel Felton

"Alright, let me level with you."

0 · 488 views · located in Hallowbrook, Illinois 1925

a character in “Torture Circus”, as played by coricidinForte

Description

Ezekiel Felton: Zeke, 16, Male, Bisexual
The Fallen Angel, Mutant - Beastly
Main




Image
{Appearance}
Ezekiel is a thin boy who's height totals to about five feet, eight inches tall. His hair is a lighter brown and is rather unruly, with fringe that rests above his olive colored eyes. His skin is naturally pale, but is now tanned due to working outside in the sun. While it is true that he is thin, he had managed to build some muscle, from physical labor and practicing his acts. Ezekiel's body is marked with several scars, most of them of his back from being whipped as punishment. On his face there is a small diagonal scar over his right cheek bone. Like the other mutants, his left hand is scarred from being branded with the letter 'T', to mark him belonging to the Torture Circus. Later he learns to cover up the mark with a pair of brown gloves. Coming from his back is a pair of white feathered wings. They are short, from being kept cut, and are slightly crooked from being broken on a few occasions. In addition, his calves and feet are mutated and blacked, resembling birds legs and feet opposed to being human.

He usually wears shirts made out of cheap cotton or a button up, white dress shirt with trousers. He occasionally can be seen wearing a tie. All of Ezekiel's shirts have two large holes in the back for his wings, which he can usually fit through without much of a problem. He can use long coats to cover up his wings, even if it's uncomfortable. His feet make it hard for him to wear shoes, and can make it a bit painful, but it can be possible with a larger than average pair.

{Mutation}
Aves Mutation - Beastly type. A mutation that gives him bird-like features. This includes a pair of white feathered wings, which could have a large wingspan. His calves and feet are often mutated, and are like birds legs and feet in that respect. (Something like this. But just the feet. His hands, arms, etc are human.) His retina is also thickened, like a birds, and allows his eyesight to excel in the perception of motion in detail.

{Act}
He does a tightrope act and a limited, since his wings get in the way, acrobatic act along with just sitting in a caged wagon in the freak show tent.

{Personality}
He's guarded, distant, and seems more like a loner more than anything else. The boy tends to keep to himself, although he isn't completely cold and aloof. It's harder to get him to warm up if you're a stranger to him, in fact, it's more impossible than anything. The reason being because Ezekiel doesn't trust others easily, especially those without mutations. He's a suspicious and doubtful kind of person, and it's hard to earn and keep his trust. He's the type that will question a person's motives, finding it hard to believe that someone would act truly selflessly. Along with this, Ezekiel is very resentful of people that break his trust, and isn't very forgiving. He will hold grudges for a long time, and is often too caught up in the past for his own good.

Over everything, Zeke is a realist at heart, though he has become more negative or pessimistic recently. Truthfully, he's kind of bitter, which reflects in his sarcastic type of humor. Throughout the years it became hard from him to maintain hope, with the idea of it now seeming silly to him. He no longer believes in a positive future for himself, or any other mutant. At least, not in his lifetime. As a result he can be critical of people that are hopeful towards such a thing, and often finds that it's better to stop putting energy towards what he thinks is an impossible dream.

He gets easily frustrated, annoyed and fed up, but he usually has a good handle on his anger. Ezekiel isn't the kind of person to blow up easily, and will often seek solitude to cool off instead. Although, when he does get angry, he often makes remarks that he later regrets. More importantly, he never uses violence against people unless it's in self-defense. Ezekiel is highly against violence, and doesn't enjoy using it at all, but will if he has too.

After a period of time, and from overcoming trust barriers, people have managed to become close to Zeke. He becomes more easy going around them, and can become playful and reveal a more teasing side to himself. While he's not the best advice giver, he does try his best to be considerate to the feelings of his friends. It's obvious that he cares deeply for the people he's close to, and often puts their well-being above his own. He can be quite self-sacrificial, and believes that he can handle misfortune better than others. Though honestly, he simply doesn't want to see them being hurt.


{Likes} {Dislikes}
o Candies The Circus x
o Piano Music Cold Weather x
o The Night Sky Being Stared At x
o Cigarettes Spicy Foods x
o Warm Weather Violence x
o Sleeping In Most People x

{Quirks} {Fears}
% Uses mundane items as toys Being Manipulated @
% Speaks using a lot of slang His Friends Being Hurt @
% Tilts his head when thinking

{Skills}
# Some Acrobatic Skill
# A Good Pickpocket
# Decent at Reading and Writing
# Moderately Street-Smart
# Fast Reflexes

{Biography}
Ezekiel, like many of his kind, is an orphan. His mother died during conception and his father soon sold him to a the Torture Circus shortly afterwards without little thought. It wasn't until he was sold that he got his first name, in reference to the archangel of death and transformation. He was raised by members of the Circus since he was a baby, and is familiar with much of the staff as result.

This goes without saying, but Zeke lived his whole life in the circus. His wings have been kept cut since he was young, to prevent him from being able to fly. Though, Ezekiel claims that it would be impossible, and also says he prefers them cut, even if the process is often uncomfortable, because the shortened length is more convenient for him. Throughout his time there he has been a popular sight to see, tough recently he's been getting less attention in favor of other, newer acts. However, even after all this time, he still isn't fond of preforming or people crowding around him, so the loss of his audience doesn't bother him in that respect. What does worry him is how long with Circus will keep him around if his value drops enough.

He has tried running away before, and is no stranger to disobedience. This always leads him to be punished in some way, be it being given no food or something more physical. Due to the number of failed escape attempts, Ezekiel has started to lose hope in ever reaching freedom. Since he grew up in the circus, there was no opportunity to receive a formal education, though he is a bit 'street-smart', but it's nothing impressive. He can read and write well enough, thanks to the help of other members of the Circus, but he still sometimes struggles with more complicated pieces. Most of what he has learned comes from overhearing outsiders talk amongst themselves, or from a few conversations he held with them himself.


{Relationships}
[Will be edited as others join.]

So begins...

Ezekiel Felton's Story

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Ezekiel Felton
(Torture Circus - Staff Tent)


The clock was already starting to tick past two, it was the second day of work in this town, and Ezekiel was already fed up with it all. He had been apart of the circus for as long as he could remember, thanks to being sold to it while he was still an infant, yet no matter how many years past by the boy never grew used to it. The stares from their customers prickled his skin, and that wasn't the worst of it. Having them point him out and loudly talk about what made him different, a freak, a monster continuously haunted him. Even if he told himself that nothing they said was true it would come back to him in his nightmares.

Honestly, he hated himself at times. The way his legs morphed into thick, black, dry flesh that ran across awkward, thin feet; feet with only four long toes, one of them located on the back, and there was a talon on each end. Learning how to walk had been difficult for him, he remembered barely being even to walk across the room when other children would be running around for hours. Then there were the feathered covered wings that jutted out of his back, crooked and bulky they had no use and was always getting in the way. Despite knowing how much it would hurt, he had days where he would contemplate getting them cut off completely. But then he would be no use to the circus, and he'd be on the streets where he'd either starve or be killed.

When he was younger and more naive, Ezekiel had thought that he could somehow manage to live outside of this place. That somehow he would find the money, the food, the shelter to live. Time and time again he was dragged back here, and soon enough such a thing became only a foolish dream. He had come to terms with the reality of the situation, the world didn't want people like him in it unless they were going to exist to entertain them. Something that didn't help was that even if that majority of his life had been painful and brutally unfair, he did not want to die and instead he clung to life and the precious few good moments in it. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed the Torture Circus to survive.

The brunette quickly finished off his cup of water. As cruel as this place was, Mr.Torture wasn't a moron. He understood that his slaves 'employees' couldn't work like machines. If they were good, then they would be rewarded with the essentials to live and without undergoing punishment. Zeke had been on break after finishing a trapeze performance, an act that was nearly traumatizing in his early years. But walking across a thin rope was now a bit peaceful, so long as he managed to ignore the stares and chatter of the audience below. He was good at it, he had to be since they didn't use a net for his act to make it a bit more 'swanky' and 'exciting'. Besides, only then would he find himself not minding if he fell, even if it was too his death. He still didn't want to die, but the thought of falling during an accident while performing sounded a lot more serene than the other ways he could go. Plus, the faces of the heartless crowd would be priceless, with his final moments being branded into their minds forever.

There was no doubt that his tightrope act was a gift compared to the other acts that some of the mutants had to undergo. There was Sam, who had to break out of a coffin and be forced to stay underwater for several minutes. He had come to the circus when Zeke was eight, and the two hadn't really spoken to each other much, but he didn't mind the other mutant. Then there was Happy, she occasionally had to charm snakes even if she had quite a fear of them. There was also the sexual exploitation of her, such things never sat well with him. He didn't think they got on very well though, as if their personalities just didn't work together well.

Not everyone had to perform such a taxing act though. Ester was assigned to entertain by doing several things with her telepathy, which was simple enough. The girl was one of the few people that he actually felt that he could trust, even if it was just a little bit. She's both kind and tough, and he was under the impression that things between them was pretty good, or at least decent. Mark's act wasn't so bad either, though it certainly could become dangerous if he lost control, or worse. The winged boy wouldn't call them friends, or anything of the like, but the telekinetic was nice enough and he had no problem with him.

Ezekiel looked over to the pocket watch that had been left on one of the wooden tables. It was nearing the time where he was supposed to head to the freak show tent and spend some time in a cage, letting people get all up-close and personal with him. He'd rather be several feet in the air. There was no attempt at dragging out his break though, it would only backfire, so the boy stood and walked back outside. The heat of the sun was warm and he was thankful for the summer heat. Things could get too cold when he was constantly stuck in clothes like the ones he currently wore; a short sleeved, white button down with holes in the back for his wings with black trousers that had been rolled up to his knees and pinned in place.

He groaned and rubbed his temple, feeling a headache come on as he walked towards the red and blue striped tent. There were too many people around him, all talking, all pointing, but thankfully no one dared to touch him. The assumption that he had a disease of all things wasn't always so bad, so long as it prevented these people from laying their grubby fingers all over him.

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Ezekiel Felton
(Torture Circus - Freak Show Display Tent)


Their down time was over, and now many of the mutants were taking the places of perfectly 'human' freaks. Though they were still human like the rest of the billion or so people out there, ones without such bizarre birth defects liked to look at them as if they were less than human, like animals, cattle. He waved to a woman who had a talent of swallowing swords, she'd been around here longer than he had, and though she rarely talked he liked to think of her as something of an older sister. He had lived here his entire life, of course he was going to start applying family dynamics to the people he had called this living hell a 'home'.

He peeled back the back entrance to what was known as the 'Freak Show Tent', rubbing the brand over his left hand subconsciously upon his entrance. On the outside the tent was striped with blue and red, but the inside was rather dark, with a white background. Ezekiel had always assumed the worn decor had something to do with making them even more eerie, and mysterious to their guests. It was lit with lanterns and candles, Christmas stringed lights were held above, stretched around the walls. Almost imminently he was herded towards his usual cage, a trailer of sorts, once used to transport tigers or similar animals from state to state.

The tent was connected to a few others, all in relation to those named mutants. There was a number of performance tents, focused on individual performances, such as Happy's snake charming act. They were all put into categories, here were those that just sat around behind bars, as if they were barbaric monsters that needed to be restrained. Then there was the aquatic tent, connect towards the left, full of tanks, marine mutants and Sam occasionally. Not to forget there was the tent that showed off younger mutants; babies, toddlers, young children who were exploited just like their elders. He had heard when he was the age was when he gathered most of the attention, he imagined an infant with wings was quite a sight to see back in the day.

Soon he was settled in his current cage, it wasn't nothing large, but he could at least stand up properly. He let his wings stretch, their tips peeking out of the bar. They snapped back and folded when a child tugged on one of his feathers. The small pig-tailed girl ran away with tears in her eyes at both the sudden action and his cold glare. That was also something he would never take kindly to - people grabbing onto his wigs or tugging at them, it was all too uncomfortable and left him without much control. Also, he plain out didn't enjoy people touching him, especially strangers that came only to gawk at them. Who he assumed to be the girls father came over and kicked the trailer, rocking it, but Ezekiel only regained his balance and sent the man a scathing look as well.

It was getting harder and harder for him to care. It's true that this life and everything about it still irritated him, but he was no longer as angry as he once was. More than anything he was bitter, and had lost a lot of his hope. Ezekiel settled down the the floor, crossing his legs in front of him, ignoring the way people pointed out the way his legs and feet looked. Yeah yeah, he knew already, they were like a birds. Shocker. He rubbed the back of his neck, agitated, before running his hand through his hair and setting it back down on the ground. As ordered, he stretched out his wings, though made sure they didn't get too close to the bars. It wasn't a hard task, considering not only were the feather were cut to prevent flying, they were also crooked, and rather short.

Above all he felt tired, the days were too long, and the nights were too short. His eyes fluttered shut, and he tried to block out the noise of the people around him. If he really did try to sleep he'd be punished, though no harm could come from pretending that everything around him wasn't real, just for a moment. The only good days where when they were traveling, and this week couldn't pass by soon enough.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu Character Portrait: Samael Barker
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#, as written by slcam
Before responding to Avalin's question, Evie hesitated a moment to consider what their options were and to see if Jack would say something. When no one spoke for a moment, she quietly suggested, "We could go look at the various games and booths first, and then, maybe..." She paused, cheeks flushing, looking up at both of her friend's faces before continuing, "And maybe then we can go see the mutants and the acts?" Jack and Avalin did not object, so they started off going around to the various booths, laughing and having fun. It was the most fun Evie had had in a long time. She was slowly beginning to lose her awkwardness and was able to laugh more easily. She only tripped a couple times, skinning one knee, but she paid it little attention. Something like that had no power to dampen her mood. Soon, the cheery group of friends was ready to enter the various tents.

They visited the main freak show tent, which had a pleasant looking exterior that was only slightly faded. Inside, however, it was much darker, and Evie had to wait a moment for her eyes to adjust to the candle lit 'room.' When she was able to see clearly, she saw that all the mutants were locked in cages. She immediately wondered if any of them were dangerous people, but when she saw their weary expressions, she wondered if the bars were there to protect the mutants. Whatever festive air was created by the lights strung across the walls was dampened for Evie by the ugly cages. Were they supposed to look like caged animals?

She winced when she heard a young kid crying by one of the cages. The man inside, who had some sort of wings, stood staring coldly at the girl. Evie let out a small gasp when she saw the father come and kick the cage, and she hoped that he would go no further. Thankfully, the man was satisfied with that, and he walked away, dragging the crying girl with him. Evie shyly came closer as the mutant sat down and spread his crooked wings. He closed his eyes as if shutting out the world. Though her eyes were automatically drawn to his odd, bird like legs and wings, there was also plain concern on her face for him. Avalin, however, seemed even more transfixed. After a few minutes the man had not looked up, and Evie figured it was time to move on. Avalin merely waved them on and stayed with the bird mutant.

First, Jack and she headed to a tent that was connected to the main tent. Apparently, this was a tent for water based mutants. One of the mutants was tossed a key, and he unlocked the chains and floated to the top before he was dragged out by a large man. Then his arms were restrained, but it seemed like the men holding him were holding him up more than restraining him. A plain look of discomfort crossed the man's features as he took a shaky breath. People began to murmur about how unnatural he was, and Evie nearly winced. Her ma always told her that people were people, no matter what they looked like. She also told Evie that everyone should make themselves useful, usually accompanied by a scolding for dilly-dallying when she should have been working.

Sorrow and concern were plain in Evie's eyes as she looked at Jack and motioned that she was ready to move on to the next tent. They went to a tent with many young children, each with some unusual feature. For the most part, they were either tired and hungry, or as interested in the spectators as the spectators were in them. Soon after, Evie heard music starting, heralding some performance. She quickly followed the sound, and found herself in a performance tent that was already filling fast. She and Jack found a seat, saving an extra seat in case Avalin decided to join them, and watched as the woman began dancing with two snakes. Evie was amazed that the woman was blindfolded, yet danced so gracefully. She was tall, and she resembled a snake not only in looks, but also in how she moved. Evie was transfixed, as though she had been charmed along with the snakes.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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#, as written by Skwidge
At Evieā€™s suggestion, Avalin jumped up into the air and clapped her hands together. ā€œSounds just ducky to me!ā€ She grinned and linked her arms with her two friends, cheerfully walking around with them to marvel at all of the amazing sights and all of the fun games that they had. Of course, just like Avalin would, she made ridiculous narratives and comments that caused bubbles of laughter from herself- she knew it was all in good fun, and made the narratives to do so in the first place. She was rather impatient to go and see these mutants, but she didnā€™t let it show. She was more self disciplined than that. She could wait.

But then the glorious moment came, and she practically dragged her friends to the large blue and red tent that held the mutants. However, she did slow down when they hit the tent flap that served as an entrance. It was eerily dark, and a shiver ran down the girlā€™s spine, a huge grin plastered on her face. This would be such a great addition to her story, she just couldnā€™t believe it! They stepped in, and she too had to stand and wait for her eyes to acclimate to the new dimness. But once they did, her eyes immediately jumped to the cages, and a sense of wonder stole her countenance- and boy did it run with it. She immediately gravitated towards that first cage, feeling only the giddy excitement of what the cages did for the whole scene. It was just so mysterious and she was sucking it up! Her fingers softly enclosed around the bars of the cage as she looked at the mutant before her. He was just absolutely brilliant! So different and so beautiful because of it; just think, having someone like that in her novel was just so right and exciting! And these thoughts were plain on her face.

But then she realized just what was happening around her- all of a sudden it wasnā€™t just them. Avalin then realized just how the bird mutant felt and looked like- cold and distant, while those around her mumbled things like: ā€œFreak; Hideous; That is just not right; Whatā€™s wrong with him; Who would want a freak like that, itā€™s ridiculous!ā€ Snickers followed, there were a few children crying, acts of anger were portrayed, and a frown scribbled itself across Lynnā€™s features, her hands closed tighter around the bars. She was only brought out of her self fury when her friends wanted to move on to the next mutant. She just forced on a huge grin and shook her head. ā€œNah, thatā€™s okay, Iā€™ll catch up with you guys later. Go go, shoo shoo.ā€ She waved them off, and then turned back to the man in the cage with her previous expressions.

This creature before her was just awe inspiring. Seriously, having wings was just something she couldnā€™t possibly even dare to imagine herself having. She could actually be free. Sure, his werenā€™t exactly pristine for such a task, but the desire and respect was still there! It made her angry that these people couldnā€™t see that. So the girl stood there, hands clutched on the bars and her head drooped as she shook ever so slightly. It seemed like they were treated terribly, and that wasnā€™t fair at all! This would definitely be going in her story. And she would enjoy writing it down. ā€™But what if he- theyā€¦ were to-ā€¦ No Ava, thatā€™s silly, leave that thought alone. ā€¦ But what ifā€¦.ā€™

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Ezekiel Felton
(Torture Circus - Freak Show Display Tent)
15:00 P.M


Even under the curtain of darkness words still continued to pierce through and interrupt his vain attempt at peace. Some spoke in disgust, others in excitement, but both were the same to him. There was no such thing as a good crowd, especially when they were gathered in close proximity, their numbers creating a hullabaloo and a certain stench. His wings twitched as the uncomfortable feeling of being watched grew. He continued tell himself to not let it bother him, yet their eyes still got under his skin, making him feel squeamish and anxious. When Ezekiel felt the slight vibrations move throughout his cage, he couldn't keep his eyes closed any longer.

The boy's eyelids rose open, his olive colored eyes being met with the sight of the culprit behind the shaking - a thin girl who was clutching onto the bars that separated them. Startled, he shot backwards to put a greater amount of distance between him and the stranger. His wings folded shut and his arms were used to support himself, both being behind him now with his palms pressing against the floor of the trailer. The scrambling motion had forsaken him into reacting in a rather embarrassing manner. His eyes were wide and eyebrows were arched in a manner that was astonished and hostile. Overall he felt rather silly.

He could feel his skin grow hot, he was acting too balled up and stupid. In an attempt to regain his composure he sat back up straight and crossed his arms in front of him, relaxing his expression until it reverted into a minor gaze of aggression. His wings even spread back out, relying too much on his instinct to make himself appear bigger to compensate for his situation of being used for entertainment. He could be perturbed about that later.

"What're you looking at, doll?" Ezekiel made and effort to sound unaffected by her presence, he tried to keep his voice flat, but a bit rough. Like how the gangsters sounded, they really liked coming around here with their molls. In his mind he may have succeeded, but in reality his voice sounded more awkward and strained. The people passing by sent them glances albeit, made no attempt to come closer, most of them were heading towards the performance tent instead. He couldn't be more grateful for that, maybe this dumb dora over here was just an interested, and would leave him be after she realized that it would be funner to watch a girl charm deadly snakes or another read the minds of the audience. Absolutely chilling, much better than standing in front of a winged adolescent, she should hurry and beat it before she misses the good stuff.

Despite his attempt to appear calm and in control, his body was still far from being relaxed. It was unnerving to have someone so close to him and it didn't help that he couldn't exactly scram out of here whenever he wanted. "Well?" He leaned towards the curly haired girl, rearranging his arms so his chin was resting on his fist, the other appendage lying across his lap. "Is there nobody home in there?" Ezekiel exhaled loudly, his cheeks briefly puffing up in the process.

Maybe if he was lucky this one was a bit different from the others, and by that he meant that perhaps she was carrying cigarettes and would give him one, like how a child would throw peanuts at the circus animals. Unless she wanted something in return, then he could exchange nicotine for information, nosy people always seemed to be thirsty enough for that. "Butt me or dry up."

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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#, as written by Skwidge
Avalin Seranu


Avalinā€™s head suddenly tilted up as she heard the scrabble, only to see the male launching backwards. It surprised her, and she ended up attempting to jump back but instead tripped over some unseen board and fell to the ground in a sitting position. She looked dazed for a split second before she glanced back up to look at the boy in the cage. ā€œOw.ā€ She spoke in a breath, rubbing the back of her head with a sheepish grin.

"What're you looking at, doll?" The boyā€™s tone merely made her blink, though she didnā€™t really comment on it. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes scanning over his face. Luckily, there werenā€™t many people within the tent at that moment, but those that were sent her odd glances and scowls. She looked up, momentarily distracted by the new attention she had managed to grab. She completely forgot to answer him, and a grin was on her face as she was suddenly swept up in thought- considering this to be a fairly dramatic and excellent addition to the chapter sheā€™d get to writing to.

"Well?ā€ Avaā€™s attention was only recaptured when he shifted his position, however she didnā€™t fully comprehend what he was saying- she was so distracted by his physical appearance and how his wings would shift whenever he moved. "Is there nobody home in there?" Lynn finally blinked off her daze to focus on what he was saying. Another sheepish smile scribbled itself across her features, and she gave a indifferent shrug. ā€œMore like too many up here.ā€ She tapped her head with an index finger before dropping her hands to her lap; She still hadnā€™t moved from her fallen position. She was completely unfazed by his otherwise harsh remarks, and she just shot him a silly grin.

"Butt me or dry up." Once more the girl blinked before suddenly patting her pockets in search for some cigarettes. ā€œYou know, Iā€™m not much of a smoker, but my mom is, so she always makes me go out and get her some.ā€ She produced one of them from the pack and held it out for him to take. Yep, she was definitely going to make him come over and take it from her. ā€œI donā€™t know how youā€™re going to smoke that without a lighter. Assuming, of course, that they donā€™t allow you to have a fire starter.ā€ A teasing look of playfulness lit up her features before she continued. ā€œYou know, your wings are really nifty, though they could probably do with a good preen. You look a bit like a ragamuffin.ā€ The girl had really just simply spaced on the need to actually go watch the acts perform- she was obviously enthralled with the mutant before her.

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Ezekiel Felton


ā€œYou know, Iā€™m not much of a smoker, but my mom is, so she always makes me go out and get her some.ā€ He rolled his eyes at the useless bit of information, but they soon found focus on the cigarette that she was holding out towards him. One of his eyebrows quirked upwards at the interesting, in an unusual way, gesture. It wasn't exactly rare for people to toughen up and talk to him; mobsters and various types of men figured that someone that saw people come by day in and day out would catch onto a lot of gossip, and they were right. Although a woman being so bold like this, well, it was different to say the least. His eyebrow lowered and he leaned forward to take the tobacco product from her. Ezekiel's arm stretched out between the bars to reach, having his fingers nearly brush against hers on purpose, if just to see how she would react.

Immediately he pocketed the item. Obviously he couldn't smoke it in here, he'd get caught. "Thank you." He wasn't completely without manners, though they weren't weren't pristine, as he continued to study her without shame. His lips pulled into a smirk at her comment. "Just because I'm not allowed doesn't mean I hadn't managed." He was sitting closer to the bars now, this girl didn't really seem to be out to harm him. Hell, she was still on the ground. "The big shots around here are just a bunch of saps." Though, even if he said that, his eyes still glanced to the sides, checking to make sure nobody heard what was spoken.

He was relieved to find that most of the staff members had moved to the performance tent, and the few that stuck around weren't in close proximity. Ezekiel looked back to the girl, and while she didn't really act like the brightest gal out there, she had to be bothering him for some reason. Outsiders just didn't beat their gums off to him to pass the time or out of the goodness of their hearts; there was always something they were looking for in return, or else they'd just keep their distance and watch. Right? His gaze reverted back to being suspicious, but his composure didn't last long.

ā€œYou know, your wings are really nifty, though they could probably do with a good preen. You look a bit like a ragamuffin." The boy made a choking noise and his wings tensed, before closing shut behind him. A glare was sent to the girl before he avoided looking at her. He wasn't sure what bothered, or surprised, him more - his wings being noted as nifty or the suggestion of having them preened. Zeke looked back at them for a moment, jerking his head away when he realized that doing so would mean he actually cared, and focused back on the nosy girl before him.

He opened his mouth to speak, about to make a sarcastic remark, but was cut short when he heard commotion coming from the tent next door. At first the noise was rather mundane, like most crowds chatter, though now it had risen to where it had garnered the attention of many people in the display tent. It sounded like a mix of panic and excitement, Ezekiel looked over with worry sketched into the furrow of his brow. Happy was performing, and while they weren't chums, he didn't want harm to befall her. Soon he heard clapping coming from the performance tent and his shoulders dropped ever so slightly, assuming that a crowd that wasn't screaming in horror was a good sign.

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Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Avalin Seranu


Ava just smiled cheerfully at him, making absolutely no move toward or away from him as he took the cigarette from her hand, almost touching her in the process. It looked like it was on purpose, but many people did that anyway, didnā€™t they? With an internal shrug, her thoughts quickly shifted elsewhere.
"Thank you." She looked up at him and nodded. ā€œSure.ā€ The gal shifted a bit so she wasnā€™t so uncomfortable in her position, however she stayed on the ground. She liked it much better, not to mention it said volumes when considered in book form. "Just because I'm not allowed doesn't mean I hadn't managed." Lynn put her hands up in mock defense, ā€œOf course, of course.ā€

"The big shots around here are just a bunch of saps." The girl leaned forward, her hand up to her mouth as she stifled a small laugh, instead letting out a half cough half snort in her so-so attempts at covering it up. ā€œBoy, do I ever know how that goes.ā€ She leaned to the side with one arm, pointing vaguely up in the air with the other.

However, she caught the suspicious gaze she flashed her, even if it was only for a small moment. Slight confusion scribbled itself on her features, but she just shook it off. However, she was not expecting his reaction to her comment on his wings at all. She definitely didnā€™t mean to make him feel uncomfortable about them, and the glare he shot her made her feel actually pretty bad. ā€˜I should watch my mouth more.ā€™ Internally, she gave herself a half hearted smile, knowing that that wasnā€™t very likely. He did however look back at his wings before snapping back to her, something like irritation on his face.

Avalinā€™s whole demeanor fell, and her voice came out rather uneasily. ā€œIā€™m s-ā€œ However, she was soon cut off by the noises coming from the main tent- and it didnā€™t sound good at all. She had instinctively leaned forward to touch him when she attempted to make an apology, but was caught off guard by the unusual noises. Registration suddenly dawned in her eyes, and she realized that she had missed one of the acts. She was actually rather glad she had- it was worth it to talk to this mutant, in all honesty. Avon was actually not that fazed that she had missed it, because it sounded like something very wrong had gone down. ā€œOh horsefeathers, it should appear Iā€™ve missed the entire first act!ā€ She smacked her forehead and immediately rose from her previous position, quickly getting up and trotting to the flap of the tent. She paused and turned back to the mutant in the cage. ā€œIā€™ve probably given you an earfulā€¦ umā€¦ sorry! I guess Iā€™ll see you around then.ā€ She rubbed her left arm rather sheepishly before she heard another collective gasp from the crowd in the other tent. That was a Jack-did-something-stupid-again kind of gasp, and she really should see what was going on. She dropped her hands and quietly grinned, disappearing outside and into the main tent.

She quickly made her way up to the stands, seeing Evie quite clearly among the crowd with her signature hat and motions. Plus the crying boy kind of attracted oneā€™s attention. She hurried over to them, a confused look on her face. ā€œHey, what happened? Whatā€™d I miss?ā€

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu Character Portrait: Samael Barker
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Ezekiel Felton
(Torture Circus - Freak Show Tent)
15:30 P.M


The girl wasn't around for much longer; just as the noise from next door has gained his attention, it had done the same to her. Only in her case, she was free to get up and check it out, having the ability to go and see if anything was wrong and if there was anything to be done to help. ā€œIā€™ve probably given you an earfulā€¦ umā€¦ sorry! I guess Iā€™ll see you around then.ā€ He hardly nodded his head at her farewell, it wasn't like he expected to ever see her again. Ezekiel's gaze lingered at where she last stood, before he fell onto his ride side, lying down and looking out into the nearly empty display tent - aside from the other mutants that were caged, of course.

She was odd, a bewildered expression started to arise on his face as the previous moments replayed in his head. There were always children that were curious and unafraid of them, apparently not knowing better, but he hardly met anyone older that was like that. He had conversations in the past with normal human beings, most of them looking for the novelty of speaking to a mutant, more of them working for a newspaper, but they were the few that didn't look at him as if he was a bug, or worse. If he had to describe it, he'd call this a nice feeling. Even if she seemed a bit out there, and had said a couple of bothering things about his wings, Ezekiel guessed that this would become a fond memory of 'Times people treated me like I wasn't an abomination.' He would attempt to exclude the fact that she just talked to him for some sort of kicks, because that's just how people were.

A rattling sound came from the back of his cage, causing him to glance backwards. A staff member was unlocking him and opening the door, muttering something about 'Not getting paid enough for this'. Judging by how Ezekiel didn't recognize the man, he figured that this guy was only a temporary employee, someone Mr.Torture hired from a nearby town to work for the week they were in the area. The winged boy made his way out of the trailer and immediately stretched, not just his arms but his wings as well. The man who unlocked his cage grunted when one of the wings hit him in the face, yet the perpetrator made no effort to apologize. "Be back to the main performance tent in time for the next act." His voice was deep and rough, unlike his scrawny appearance. Perhaps he was the unlucky type of smoker who'd voice got damaged in the process?

"What? Are you yanking my chain?" He sounded irritated, with disbelief hinted in his tone. The other man rolled his eyes and replied that 'No, now get out of my sight.' before walking off. Ezekiel groaned and rubbed his forehead, briefly thinking of checking out the performance tent but deciding against it. By now it sounded like whatever had happened was long over and all was just dandy, there was no reason to draw attention to himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose momentarily before walking out of the display tent and back outside, startling a group of girls who were passing by. They scurried off quite quickly after they noticed his bitter expression, and Ezekiel was left to put the cigarette that girl had given him in his mouth, lighting it with the lighter he had found on the ground about a week ago. He usually wouldn't preform again so soon, it seemed like Mr.Torture had it out for him today. His mind went back to his actions of the day, it wouldn't be ludicrous for him to assume that he wasn't happy with the Fallen Angel's behavior with the customers in the display tent, it might be some sort of punishment.

After inhaling the smoke deeply, he exhaled the toxin into the air before walking down the path wedged between two rows of tents. He could hear people all around him, all the noise bleeding together to create a large presence that many people would call lively, although he would call it annoying. There was the noise of people cheering or gasping during performances, children yelling and crying, and teenagers snickering and gossiping. Sometimes he wished he would go deaf just so he wouldn't have to listen to it anymore.

He ended up finding himself back in the freak show tent, which was surprisingly still empty, aside for the commotion from the performance tent. They were starting to move around the mutants now, switching ones that had behaved badly or ones that had their break, or had an act coming up, with others that had nothing else to do. Ezekiel didn't stop wandering until he was outside of Samael Barker's cage. He knew the boy well enough, having being in this hole together for eight years. Sam was nearly silent and he was cold, paired with his white hair and pale complexion you had a person that easily put other people off. Ezekiel however never wavered because of this, he guessed it was just because they were both in the same situation.

The younger boy blew out his final breath of smoke before putting the butt out casually on one of the iron rails of the cage, soon discarding it on the ground without a care. There was no staff looking at them currently, they'd just assume it was a customer that littered. "You look unhappy, as always." He commented, not really expecting to get an answer out of the other, or any words at all. Ezekiel reached into his right pocket and pulled out a Baby Ruth, offering it to the other. The mask he often wore may prevent any consumption right away, though it could always be saved for later. "Do you want it?" He was always snatching up things, and with such a strong sweet tooth it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him to have a bit of an overstock of candy. Apparently they would rot his teeth, but they tasted good and made him happy, kind of like cigarettes; Zeke figured it couldn't hurt to at least see if the daemon mutant wanted it or not.

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Samael Barker
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Samael Barker
[ Torture Circus - Aquatic Tent, Samael's Display Tent ]


One of the handlers crouched to shackle his ankles, wide enough that he could walk but close enough that he couldn't run. Dark eyes drifted down toward the man kneeling at his ankles. He thought about kicking him. A quick kick in the face, and the front of the man's skull could be bashed in. It was something he thought about every time his feet were chained up; something he had attempted before, too... but something that had never gotten him anywhere, obviously. The only thing it had gotten him was beat up. And when he was beaten, circus staff didn't hold back, knowing he could heal better than most of the other freaks.

Next, a thick cloak was draped around him to guard him from the sun, followed by a bag of the same cloth being pulled over his head. No sooner had Sam begun to adapt to breathing again than the thick bag over his head smothered his access to oxygen. But he admitted it was better than his eyes facing sunlight, at least.

With the handlers still gripping his arms through the cloak, he was led out of the aquatic tent. The bag shielding his head did its job; Samael couldn't even tell how bright out it was with the heavy fabric on. Even the sounds of the patrons milling around was dull and muffled. A short walk later, and he could make out the chime of the keys for his cage. The cloak was unwound from him and then the bag was pulled off of his head. His eyes had no need to brace against any light because it was dim in his tent. Sam was unshackled and swiftly pushed into his cage, where the door was shut and locked behind him.

He stumbled in, shivering somewhat when the cloak was removed. It had helped to dry him a little, so he was able to pick his shirt off the floor of his cage and put it on without it being too sticky or difficult. He pulled his ragged blazer over his shoulders, too, for warmth before sitting down in a corner. His tent would open again now that he was back in it... so he savored the time of solitude he might have before patrons came wandering in.

However, that time of solitude was more short-lived than anticipated. The winged mutant, Zeke, drifted in just a couple of minutes after the handlers had left. Sam's hollow gaze lifted to him, albeit fleetingly. The other boy approached to offer a small candy. Samael eyed it; he was unable to offer much of a verbal response with his muzzle on - not that he probably would have anyways - but he gave a short nod and leaned forward to take the Baby Ruth from Zeke's hand. His motions were slow, almost as if he was old and frail. But for anyone who had seen Samael attack somebody, his languid manner of movement was unnervingly far from the reality.

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton
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Ezekiel Felton
Torture Circus
Saturday. August 15th, 1925
21:30 P.M


The seconds transformed into minutes, the minutes into hours, and the day filled with families purchasing golden pieces of paper to view the miraculously acts of others has long been declared over. Even now the latest of shows have ended, sending women of questionable ages off to bed. The men who visited them, housing curious, scandalous minds, could be seen walking away from the grounds covered in multicolored tents and bronze colored trailers. They problem when home to wives and children, attended church on Sunday and beat their kids for taking the lords name in vain. It was all very ironic to him. Lights were strung up throughout the circus, providing minimal visibility for those that still roamed the area, giving the atmosphere more of a desolate, eerie feel. Dark figures filtered through various tents to end their day, their tones hushed and backs hunched, exhausted. The last meal was long over and staff members were hurrying to their trailers, eager to rest after a hard day of work and experience dreams filled with sugar plums and never ending grassy plains.

Those that were unlucky, or were being punished, had another fate now that the sun had been replaced with a half filled moon. The majority of mutants shared trailers with at least two or more others, crowding them in cramped, often drafty portable housing. They slept behind doors that were locked from the outside and took turns sleeping on the floor with their coworkers, being able to sleep on a bed was a privileged, not a right. The rest however, were left outside, in cages or chained to posts. Bad behavior could warrant this, or if Mr.Torture was in the mood then one may end up spending their night out in the cold. Being stuck outside in the summer wasn't terrible though, it may be windy, and sometimes somewhat chilly, but it had nothing on having to spend the night during late fall, or early spring. At least Mr.Torture was wise enough not to force his living merchandise spend the night out in the snow, lest he have to deal with a body the morning after.

Ezekiel was one of those that stayed outside, and he frequented it more than others, only sleeping indoors when it was too cold. He considered himself one of the 'unlucky' ones, but chose to sleep in the cage in the display tent out of his own free will, making it more of a home then he'd like to admit. The boy lied on his stomach, a blanket laying down under him with a thin pillow wrapped around his arms, supporting his head. There was no sheet of blanket over him, not tonight, instead he wings spread out and covered him, the feathers doing a good enough job at keeping him at a decent temperature. It was simple, he didn't enjoy sleeping in one of those crowded trailers. Not because he was antisocial, but because it wouldn't allow him any room to spread his wings.

Trust him, having sore wings in the morning was the worst. Never mind back pain, which he had quite a bit of thanks to the weight they blessed him with, aching from his wings weighted him down and made him a miserable fellow. Well, more miserable than he already was. He snorted, it was really hilarious, his entire situation must be God's form of a comedy. Boy born with wings kills his mother and ends up in a circus that treats him like some sort of slave, he sleeps outside in a cage that he's beginning to regard as his home and smokes so hopefully one day his lungs will fall out and force him to face death and die already. It was fucking priceless, and speaking of smoking...

He sat up, tonight felt odd, though perhaps that was because he had an odd day. You could argue that everyday at the Torture Circus was an odd one, but today felt especially weird. Maybe it was just because of that girl? Or was it the strange way Mark and Ester acted after her act? He wasn't sure, and he didn't feel like dwelling on the subject much longer. Instead Zeke pulled out a collection of half smoked cigarettes; his philosophy was that he was already at the bottom of the social ladder, so why not act like it and drop all that pride stuff and pick them off from the ground? He lit the longest one, the smoke going down his lungs smoothly without effort, soon clouding the air around him in thick white smoke that clung to his clothes. His mind was too active at night, filling with thoughts that were negative, cynical in nature. The nicotine didn't necessarily help any, albeit it didn't make it any worse. It didn't take long for him to move onto the next half-smoked Camel brand cigarette, inhaling the destruction and self-pity, and exhaling his forgotten dreams and abandoned hopes.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Avalin Seranu


Avaā€™s attention flickered back into focus as the act actually began, and strained to hear their words. She caught a lot of it, but still missed quite a bit. She did wonder what question Evie had asked, but shrugged and figured she might be able to ask her later- if she remembered.

The act ended abruptly after the answer, and Ava looked expectantly to Evie as she returned to her seat. Jack leaned forward slightly to ask the same question she had been thinking about, and Lynn put her feet on the boyā€™s lap, disregarding any strange looks that might have been shot towards her unusual position in her chair. An uneasy look spread across her face as Evie began to explain what her question had been, and Avonā€™s arms crossed. It had been rather obvious with Ezekiel, but she didnā€™t entirely realize it was the same for all of the mutants.

The trio departed rather quickly from the show tent to sit sort of away from the masses, and Evie revealed her plans for setting some of the mutants free. Ava immediately jumped in, a huge grin on her face. When she said theyā€™d find Ester, Ava protested rather fiercely. She was definitely set on helping Ezekiel out- besides, they hardly needed three people to set one mutant free. Itā€™d be only better this way.

While they had time to wait for the night to fall, Ava went to see a few of the other mutants in different tents, she was also inspecting the cages and tanks and such but it never showed. Eventually she got bored and started wandering around aimlessly to look at things, until nightfall finally hit.

The gal returned to her friends and sat on a nearby crate as they went over their plans again. Jack had already swiped some keys from one of the guards, and Avaā€™s gaze ran over it intently. However, discontent soon struck her features, and a frown etched itself onto her lips. ā€œWell thatā€™s just copacetic.ā€ Her tone was dry and sarcastic as she referred to the keys being welded onto the dang loop. It probably wasnā€™t all of the cages anyway. With a small frown, she rose from her seated position and wandered over to Jack and slipped one of his lock picks from a pocket and brought it up so he could easily see it- although he probably had already felt it. ā€œIā€™ll borrow this and see if I can crack one of the cages while you guys are off trying to free that other mutant.ā€

She grinned brightly, a gleam to her eyes as she split off from the group to go search out Ezekiel. She decided that the first place to look was where she had seen him last- the display tent. She made sure that she wasnā€™t spotted by any passing guards as she slipped through the night towards the tent.

As Lynn pushed the flap of the tent gingerly aside, she quietly edged her way in and then came to a small stop to wait for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Once acclimated, she snuck towards Ezekielā€™s cage. Almost by her second step she had been hit by the smell of cigarette smoke. She grinned, rather relieved that she didnā€™t have to go about the circus grounds looking for him. Adrenaline was coursing through her as she approached the cage and stopped at the door.

Avon immediately set to work on the lock, fitting the pick in and beginning to jiggle it around and listen to the tumblers. Her gaze flickered over to his form to see if he had bothered to look up and see what the commotion was with the lock.

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Ezekiel Felton
21:45 P.M


His lungs filled with smoke; soothing, calming the bitter remains of his mind. Ezekiel lets his wings stretch outwards, not in pride but in comfort, or as much as he could get in this cramped trailer. It wasn't until the noise of scraping metal did his eyes flutter open, confusion becoming proposed to him. The circus was filled with its typical noise at this hour, people around the pornographic tent, guards chatting with one another as they shared alcohol and cigarettes. He hoped they would drop their packs in a drunken daze and leave half used remains behind so he could support his habit, just so he could hold onto a bit of solace at the end of his day.

There was still that inconsistent, aggravating noise, and he pinpointed it to be nearby. His gaze went from the little light that came into the tent to where he trailer would open, and when he saw someone else there he inhaled the smoke wrong in a panicked, thoughtless action. Clutching his chest, the cigarette falling from his lips, Ezekiel coughed, covering his mouth to muffle the cacophonous noise. The boys shoulders were shaking as his body tried to evacuate the poison that entered his body wrongly, forcing his eyes to shut during the struggle.

Finally the infliction ceased, each cough becoming further apart until he was able to catch his breath. His eyes became wide open as he stared at the person fumbling with the lock on his cage, eyes narrowing in accusation. "What are you doing?" He questioned, voice hoarse and laced heavily with his current vexation. The wings growing out of his back folded, allowing him to turn around to get a better look at the person. When he recognized it to be the girl from earlier, he felt like he was hit by a wave of cold water.

"It's you!" Being surprised was an understatement. He had never been approached to like this before, not by an outsider at least. No one dared to cross Mr.Torture, even the public could tell he is a man whose temperament was to be avoided. Ezekiel's eyes were wide, and they returned to their previous state when he was clouded with suspicion. What was she doing here? He couldn't think of any plausible reason for her to come at the circus at night, let alone purposely find him so she could experiment with some lock picking. As he could recall, he hadn't been exactly all that nice to her, and his rudeness never came off as coy.

His posture stiffened and his arms became folded across his chest, leering at her with a choleric visage. "You didn't bring a group of boys, hopin' to reach up your shirt, to teach me a lesson - did you?" He questioned, wondering if she was about to try and get some sort of revenge on him. "I have talons, doll, you don't want any trouble." Ezekiel warned, stretching out his bird-like feet for good measure. Well, it wouldn't be the first time that someone wanted to see him become black and blue, he just hoped he could find a way out of it.

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Avalin Seranu


Avaā€™s movements immediately froze as she heard the coughing, rather startled than anything else. However, as he continued on leagues quieter, she returned to her lock-picking maneuvers, doing her absolute best to work as quickly and efficiently as possible.

ā€What are you doing?ā€ A hiss of voice flowed to her ears, and she paused for a second before returning to her work. A broad grin settled itself onto her lips, and she just looked up at him. ā€œMiss me?ā€ Her voice was not patronizing at all, purely innocent and cheerful, although it did admittedly hold a teasing ring to it.

ā€Itā€™s you!ā€ Avonā€™s form tensed, and she hurriedly tried to put a finger up to her lips to hush him, when she realized she had still need to work on the lock- she couldnā€™t lose her progress now. She hardly even needed to, as he hushed himself in wary contemplation, his wings folding back to their previous position she had seen earlier that day. She simply continued fumbling with the lock-pick.

However, she looked up at him once more as his posture shifted, the lighting was fairly dim, but she did think she saw the faint lines of irritation on his facials. "You didn't bring a group of boys, hopin' to reach up your shirt, to teach me a lesson - did you?" A huge wave of red completely drowned her face, and she coughed awkwardly with a small squeak. ā€œW-what? Iā€™d n-ā€œ Lynn stammered out in an urgent whisper, completely thrown off by his suspicions, but he continued anyway.

"I have talons, doll, you don't want any trouble. She watched him lift a foot, her face still blushing up a storm, unable to truly process his threat at that moment. However, she quickly regained herself, and cleared her throat very quietly to aid in doing so.

She tilted her index finger a small bit and curved her thumb under with the tool, and a satisfying click resounded from the lock. She stamped her foot quietly, and immediately crossed her arms. ā€œN-no-ā€œ The gal coughed once more, putting behind her what sheā€™d just gone through at the instance of his comments, and spoke again, this time more clearly. ā€œThatā€™s just baloney, I hardly have a beef with you. Iā€™m trying to get you out of this joint.ā€

Silently, she put a hand on the cage door and eased it open, leaning against one of the bars with her arms crossed. A faint remnant of her blush lingered on her cheeks, though she hardly realized it. ā€œNow get a wiggle on! Just consider this a bumā€™s rush, but in your favor.ā€

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu Character Portrait: Samael Barker Character Portrait: Kraus Bodenstein
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Ezekiel Felton
21:50 P.M


The girl's face was drowned in crimson color, and he had to admit that it was a nice shade against her slightly tanned skin. For a reason unknown to him, his own blood vessels broke under his cheeks, tinting them rose and causing a wave of confusion at the butterflies that tried to fly up his throat. Ezekiel glanced away, shut his eyes and furrowed his brow, cursing his teenage hormones or whatever people called them. So what if she was pretty? Who cares if she was vaguely interesting, she was a regular, human girl and well he, he was deformed, in all honesty.

His gaze switched back to a glare, though this time it was directed at himself. He didn't have time for feelings that were fitting of a school boy, romance was for the week and he wouldn't let fleeting attraction turn him into a flustered fool. Ezekiel looked back down at her as she cleared her throat, his eyebrows rising as the lock clicked and the door opened, no muscle headed boys walking in to give him a good beating. His mouth opened, wanted to ask her another question, wanted to know why she was risking her skin to play around with circus freaks, but then she answered him before he could make a peep.

"Iā€™m trying to get you out of this joint.ā€

For a second he was sure his heart ceased to function, that the air from his lungs escaped through his skin and left him but a hollow shell without thought or comprehension. He could feel himself blinking, lost, surprised, perplexed. His lips pressed together and he examined her, looking for any reason not to trust her, to tell her to get lost and never bother him again. Yet, he found nothing, just a naive, benevolent girl who had just given him what could be an opportunity at a better life. A life without the beatings, or scraping up cigarette butts, or walking across a tightrope several feet in the air as people secretly wished for him to fall, splatter onto the ground below.

He inhaled, reminded himself of all those times he tried to escape and failed. Without his permission one of his hands rose, his fingers traced over his shoulder, brushing against material that hid scars to prove it. Ezekiel's mouth turned into a frown, fighting off an inner debate between trying once again, or avoiding failure. New hope kindled inside of him, but if it was stomped out for the hundredth time he wasn't sure how able he would be to get back up again. Despite every thought that told him this was stupid, a pointless, useless attempt at freedom, he smirked and nodded.

"Well aren't you a bearcat?" The winged boy teased, but it was lighthearted, almost admiring. He stood from his spot and climbed out of the cage, touched solid ground, and fixed a few of the buttons on his short sleeve, white button up. If you can't beat them, join them. If they were going to go down, they would do so together, only she would be driven away in a cop car and he would have to face the wrath of leather. That was fine by him, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, nothing he wasn't used to. As long as he could get a taste of adrenaline, a piece of the outside world, then he would learn to live with the result given to them.

Ezekiel walked towards an opening in the tent and glanced back at her, expecting her to follow. "There are some other people I'm going to try and get out here." He said, not a request but a fact. He felt like he owed it to them. Sam, who was miserable here and remained closed off, and Kraus who was new here and had a chance to get away from Hell before he descended into the deepest layers. He might not be able to trust this girl yet, but he could at least try and get along, she did just break him out of what might as well be a prison.

"I'm Ezekiel." He decided on giving her his name, at least it would prevent them from awkwardly wondering what to call each other. Carefully he stepped out of the tent, glancing down the empty pathways before he reached out, grabbed onto the girl's wrist and pulled her along. Ezekiel didn't let go of her until they were outside of a small sized trailer, standing on the top of his toes he peaked over, looked between the bars of the window and whispered, harsh and demanding. "Sam, Kraus." He hissed, sounding angry even though it was only the nerves that was twisting his spine. "I'm getting out of here. Meet me in at the south end near the oak tree, if either of you don't make it in time I'll leave the both of ya'." He warned, paused before speaking again. "I'm unlocking your cage but we're splitting up, it's too dangerous to sneak around here with these goons hangin' around."

Suddenly he reached towards the girl, snatched the master key from her hands and shuffled towards the door, making sure no one was around before he unlocked it. "Don't be stupid." He muttered, hoping that the two wouldn't manage to blow this for him, and snuck back towards his savoir. "You're not a first time caper, are you?" Ezekiel questioned, wondering how she got a hold of the key in the first place, but didn't properly ask. "Lets keep moving." With those hushed words being spoken they were headed past tents and small trailers that held sleeping misfits and supplies alike. It was all going well, and he had the feeling that it was too good to be true. That it was, because the closer they got to another that group that planned their escape, they closer they got to Mr.Torture, who was looking for some skin to break.

Ezekiel looked back to her, a smile on his lips, and completely unaware that behind the upcoming corner was the devil himself.

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Avalin Seranu


As Avalin concluded her defense, she watched his reaction with a genuinely bold smile. However she was somewhat uneasy as to how he might react. Above all else, she was hoping that he wouldnā€™t just take her for a lunatic and completely blow her off and remain right where he was. She was fairly certain she had addressed this situation properly, but then againā€¦.

She consciously kept herself at the same position, leaning against the bars as he looked her over with wary consideration. Despite her own outward appearance, her eyes were wide and her body language simply screamed nervous excitement. More and more Lynn was getting the feeling that heā€™d choose to go with her, so she bit her lower lip softly with bated breath. Seconds were ticking away in her mind, only adding to her adrenaline levels.

His next action caught her attention quickly enough, the time completely fleeing her mind, and as his fingers brushed against his shirt at his shoulder, about two questions came to mind. But now definitely wasnā€™t the time- besides, she herself considered it rude to ask about anyway. Once the motion stopped, her eyes shifted up to his facial features, and her previous beliefs began to dwindle a bit as a frown etched onto his lips.

And then all was resolved as he met her own eyes, smirked, and then nodded. A silent breath of relief escaped her lips, and then they turned up in a bright grin at his next comment. "Well aren't you a bearcat?" Avon simply shrugged with a cheerful, all-too-innocent look on her facials, already giddy to get a move on and meet up with the others. The mutant thereafter rose from his position and stepped forward from the enclosure to pass by her with a few steps before stopping.

Avalinā€™s eyes widened as this winged boy simply paused there to fix a few buttons as if this were the most nonchalant scene ever experienced. She let out a breath of laughter towards him while she thought to herself, ā€™Well, he sure is cocky.ā€™ The thought was good natured- a tease that never passed her lips.

Lynn pushed off of the bars as he walked on towards the opening of the tent, rolling her eyes with an unbelieving grin. She definitely didnā€™t expect such boldness, and for a second she could almost hear her motherā€™s voice scolding her for such folly. She should have been able to realize how heā€™d act by the way heā€™d responded to her earlier that day.

As the winged boy glanced back to her, she took it as her queue to get a wiggle on. She walked up towards him, her mouth opening to ask him the question the three had agreed on, but he had beat her to it. "There are some other people I'm going to try and get out here." She stopped a few feet from him, that same surprised grin on her face. "I'm Ezekiel." Avon looked up at him, and then smiled warmly. ā€œAvalin.ā€ She responded to him, rather relieved that she knew his name now and didnā€™t have to find some name that would inevitably end up being ratherā€¦ awkward.

She stopped at the tent door flap as he took a step outside to survey the area. He obviously knew where he was going- Lynn sure didnā€™t. However, she definitely did not expect him to do what he did next. As his hand enclosed over her wrist, shivers ran down her spine, and the lightest of blushes dusted over her cheeks. She quickly chalked it up to the tension and adrenaline running through her system, and allowed herself to be dragged along.

The two soon ended up near a small trailer, and he released his grip on her, to stand there and keep a look out as he spoke with the others. Ezekiel suddenly turned and snatched the tool from her hand, which got a startled look out of Ava, though she made no noise, thankfully.

He was remarkably faster than she had been, and he returned to her side once more. "You're not a first time caper, are you?" A sheepish look scrawled across her facial features, and she muttered softly back an answer. ā€œWellā€¦ Iā€™m not a stranger to it anyway.ā€ Though she hardly ever had to anyway for two reasons, one being Jack, the other being that people usually liked her well enough anyway. But she didnā€™t say that; now wasnā€™t the time for explanations.

Ezekiel apparently was having somewhat the same thoughts as he remarked that they should continue moving. Lynn nodded with only a word of about where they should be headed. So the two continued on, making rather good time, all the meanwhile Ava was hoping that they wouldnā€™t run into any problems.

She was on his left as they made their way forward, and actually had a bit more of a vantage point. Ezekiel turned back to flash her a smile, but her eyes only lingered for a split second before being distracted by a flicker of movement up ahead.

Having been running on adrenaline for practically the last hour, Ava sprang into action, her mind already dividing into about three different directions- but it was fight or flight mode, and she obviously had to choose flight. It hardly even mattered who it was- whether friend or foe, it was leagues better to be safe than sorry. Her lips had began to part slightly to alert him that something was amiss, but all that came out was a rush of air, and she sprang forward, pushing her hands into his turned shoulder with her bodyweight behind it in order to catch him off balance. She was aiming for some crates and barrels a few feet away, hoping for some sort of concealment in a split second decision.

There was a soft ā€™thumpā€™ as Ezekielā€™s form hit the ground with Avalin pressed right on top of him. At least she was light. Her eyes were rather wide, and her arms were close to his chest. Without another second to waste, she shifted her hand over his mouth in attempts to prevent him from making any noise and shifted herself forward for at least a little more comfort. She winced ever so slightly, hoping first that he wasnā€™t hurt and second praying to anything and everything out there that whoever was passing by wouldnā€™t come over and investigate, or if they did, would assume they were lovers or something.

At that thought her cheeks flushed once more, but she still inclined her face fractionally, hoping that it would make the appearance more believable. At least her mind was functioning atā€¦ more or less a better pace, although Avalin thought her heartbeat was so loud that the stranger passing would certainly be able to hear it. Her body shielded most of Ezekielā€™s anyway, so hopefully he wasnā€™t recognizable, and it was night time, so that should give further assistance to their plight.

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu Character Portrait: Samael Barker
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Samael Barker
[ Torture Circus - Daemon Trailer ]


Sleep came only in brief shifts, as light and fleeting as a butterfly indecisively grazing its perch. The fair-haired youth lay curled on his side in his cage, but for most of the evening, as always, his pitch dark eyes sat open, staring hollowly at nothing like the blank eyes of a doll. His head rested on his arm, and his coat was pulled overtop of him as a makeshift blanket.

His gaze flickered up to the small trailer window at a hushed, insistent voice, from which he recognized his name - and after the voice continued, he recognized its owner. The winged boy, Ezekiel, making another escape attempt. He hadn't tried in some time, as far as Sam was aware. Stupid shit. Yet, it was strange of the mutant to have invited him along. They weren't exactly close, and it was rare for Zeke to drag anybody into his escape schemes. Something must have made this one different. Deciding he would be indifferent to further punishment anyways, Samael sat up as he heard Zeke move around to the trailer door, and then the clinking of its lock. He pulled his blazer on and slowly moved to stand, in no rush despite Zeke's apparent urgency.

He overheard the other boy talking to somebody as he moved off, and vaguely wondered just how big this escape operation was. Still - with zero regard for the other Daemon mutant in the cage beside his - Sam pushed the door open and hopped down. He took a moment to stretch, his frame sore and stiff from lying perfectly still for so many hours, before trailing after his winged coworker. He spotted the boy ahead walking alongside a dark-haired girl... He didn't recognize her from his distance, but he supposed he would see who it was in time.

The notion did not cross Samael's mind that it could be anyone outside the circus - or even a human, for that matter. No human would ever be in league with their lot.

Sam continued trailing some ways behind Zeke and his companion, watching when the girl abruptly tackled the winged mutant behind some crates. Sam followed their cue, darting behind a food stand to his right. He crouched and peered around the corner of the stand to monitor the other two, and see if he could spot whatever approaching danger they had picked up on. He felt his muscles brace with the beginnings of adrenaline; it felt good to have the freedom to really put them to use. It felt good to break from routine... and the more he savored this freedom, the tougher the time he would give anyone who tried to take it from him.

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu Character Portrait: Samael Barker
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Ezekiel Felton
22:00 P.M


There was no time for comprehension, just the expression that changed Avalin's visage from a pleasant rush to fright, then the way she pushed herself onto him in a way that made fear spread through his spine. It was disrupted by a crack that came from his wings, the snap of a few hollow bones that made him shut his eyes so tightly that wrinkles appeared on his young face. His lips parted to emit a sound of distress but it was muffled by his hand, and he began to wonder just how much on his side was she after all.

When he opened his eyes he saw spots of block, they blocked pieces of her body, hovering too close, and the heat of embarrassment mingled with the violent pain that caused his hands to shake. He curled his fingers, dug crescent shapes into his palms, willed it to go away. A few broken bones in his wings was nothing to him, he had felt much worse, and soon his vision was clearing, the red on his face growing when Ezekiel realized their compromising position. He glanced away, looked to the crates and heard the approaching footsteps that could belong to anyone, finally given insight as to why she pushed him down in the first place.

The boy shifted, trying to put less pressure on his wings and winced when his nerves brought him inflictions that forced him to bite his tongue. He raised a hand from the ground, took her wrist and pulled her palm away from his lips, and was frozen in place as the gap between them grew even smaller. At this position he could smell her, and she so unlike the people that worked here. She smelt clean underneath the layer of dirt and sweat, while he simply smelt of dirt and nicotine. Ezekiel's eyes narrowed, and he could just barely see the freckles of her eyes, and when his heart jumped he let go of her as if she had burned him.

A rock was lodged in his throat when he noticed that she was protecting him, of all things. Not herself, she hadn't ran off at the first sign of real danger, but her instinct had been to hide him as well. It was all too hot, both from the summer, the proximity, and the conflicting emotions that battled within him because it made him feel what could be considered more dangerous - thoughts that made him want to believe that she could be trusted, that she had only good in mind. He cursed himself for thinking that, it was too naive and he wouldn't fall back into the completely foolish person he once was. He may be a fool, but at least he didn't let himself get swept up in his feelings, didn't hold onto people because it was inevitable that they would eventually betray him - right?

Ezekiel looked away from her, tried to see through one of the spaces between the crates and out to the path, this time his heart was skipping a beat for a different reason. He recognized those boots anywhere, each scuff reminding him of the times he was kicked, or held down by a heel. Of course, it was none other than Mr.Torture, and Avalin must of saved him from a brutal beating because if he was caught trying to escape when he was already on the man's bad side he would be left so bruised that the general public wouldn't be allowed to see him for the rest of their stay. Underneath her he shuttered, holding his breath as minutes past by them like hours. The air was so thick that it felt like he couldn't breath, like his lungs had honey in them that kept them from inflating with oxygen.

Instead of peaking behind the crates that man yelled towards someone he couldn't see, but recognized the names of a couple of men that had been hired to walk through their camp to make sure no one tried anything funny. Most of the time they did nothing but smoke and drink beers and for that he was grateful, because Mr.Torture was angry and shouting and was going to be busy giving them an earful. Ezekiel stayed still, like a statue, the process so perfected from practice that it was eerie and he waited for the ringmasters footfalls to disappear down another path, away from them until his ears heard nothing but silence.

A long exhale escaped from him, a breath he didn't know he had been holding in, and he looked up at her, beaming with an ebullient smile that he was unaccustomed to wearing. The pain existed as nothing but a distant throb now when relief took him over, as now they had a real shot at getting out of here, and maybe for good. "Cash or check?" He flirted, drunk from the epinephrine that invaded his brain, the chemical lessening now and leaving him with false exhaustion and loosened inhibitions. The winged boy chuckled a bit, giddy as he tried to sit up, shaking his had with either amazement or from their dumb luck. "I owe you big time - oh, and you can get off of me now." Ezekiel added, face becoming scarlet when he looked back up, their faces only mere inches apart.

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Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu Character Portrait: Samael Barker
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Avalin Seranu

Ava winced as she heard the crack, and cursed herself quietly for causing him pain. It was obviously his wings that had made that noise. If they got away, sheā€™d definitely do her best to help correct it, but she honestly didnā€™t have any real medical experience. Maybe one of the other mutants would know what to do.

Avon easily heard the footsteps- they were impossibly loud, even louder than her own heartbeat. Her whole form tensed, and her eyes closed tightly, absolutely terrified that they would get caught and Ezekiel would be punished severely. However, her eyes opened almost immediately as she felt Zeke shifting underneath her and tensing. It only made her feel worse, because she knew he made the motion because of some sort of pain she had no doubt caused.

But the feeling passed rather quickly, as she was distracted by him grabbing her wrist softly and moving her hand from his mouth. Her gaze had quickly shifted out of natural reaction to see what he was doing, even though she already knew. But she suddenly realized just how awkward she had made their position, helping or no. She felt rather foolish, more-so embarrassed, for how she had reacted. A faint blush dusted her cheeks- ā€™from the adrenaline and awkwardness,ā€™ Ava quickly supplicated an answer for her mindā€™s thoughts- and she blinked a little uneasily.

She wanted to whisper to him to let go of her wrist because he was sort of holding onto it a bit tighter than he had been and she was aware of it, when he let go rather quickly. The footsteps recaptured her attention, and her eyes flicked back over to the crates, holding a tight breath of panic. The sound was only getting closer, and the suspense was absolutely torture, when she felt the winged boy under her shudder, almost causing her to jump in surprise.

Luckily, she didnā€™t, but it did make the uncomfortable tensed position even worse. Lynn had a split second of just wanting to reveal their position just for the suspense to be over, but it was just as quickly passed over. A yell was heard from whoever it was near the crates, obviously being distracted by someone else. His boots picked up a bit more speed as whoever it was strode away from them towards the victims of his lecture, and Ava let out a loud breath of relief, her whole body going numb and limp.

Her gaze swept back to Zekeā€™s face, a momentarily exhausted smile on her face as she was recovering from the extra spike of adrenaline, to find him beaming up at her. The corners of her lips twitched up without her consent in reaction to the rare smile. She had never seen him smile- despite the fact sheā€™d known him for less than a day- and she couldnā€™t help but flash an honestly giddy smile back at him. ā€™Gosh, what a lucky break!ā€™ Avalin made the thought which went with the relieved smile.

"Cash or check?" The question caught her by surprise, but a laugh escaped her lips, taking it only as a joke. However, once she started laughing, she kind of couldnā€™t stop. It wasnā€™t loud laughter, mostly giggles anyway. She lifted her hand to her mouth quickly and clamped it over her lips, an embarrassed look scribbled on her face. Ava quickly regained her composure, a faint sheepish smile on her lips as she moved her hand a bit. ā€œUh, I swear Iā€™m not crazyā€¦.ā€ She tilted her head slightly with a faint, bold smile.

As she felt him move underneath her, she distractedly thought he was just trying to get into a more comfortable position, completely having forgotten about the more than awkward situation between them. Her gaze was focused on his with the only thing on her mind being the fact that they had gotten out of that situation unscathed, thus attributing to the momentary loss of wits. "I owe you big time - oh, and you can get off of me now." Her eyes widened and another blush flared up. ā€œAh, right, right!! Of course, sorry!ā€ She stammered quickly, breaking the look without a second thought and then moving herself off of him the best she could in the somewhat confined space.

She sat next to him for a few moments with another sigh of relief. Afterwards, she picked herself up from the ground and stood up, stretching. ā€œThat wasā€¦ exhilarating... and extremely terrifying.ā€ Ava ran her hand through her hair for a moment before blinking and straightening out. She turned to Ezekiel and looked him over for a moment. ā€œEverything Jake with you?ā€ She paused for a moment before shifting from one foot to the other. ā€œNever mind, you can tell me later,ā€ Turning her head, Lynn looked over to where the man had disappeared, and a small shiver ran down her spine, ā€œThat man gives me the heebie-jeebies, we should probably get moving instead of talkā€¦. Iā€™m sorry about your wings, I didnā€™t mean toā€¦ yā€™know.ā€ She added as an afterthought, despite having just said they should move rather than talk.

Avalin walked out from the crates back onto the path, sort of unsure what they should do now, whether they should keep going the same way, or take a different direction to avoid troubles.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Happy Noko Character Portrait: Jack Kempton Character Portrait: Ester Pradin Character Portrait: Evangeline Davis Character Portrait: Ezekiel Felton Character Portrait: Avalin Seranu
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Ezekiel Felton
22:10 P.M


Her laughter came as a relief to him, at least he wasn't the only crazy one here. It didn't matter if she tried to deny it, they were both completely mad for this, absolutely loony, bonkers. For some odd reason though, and perhaps it was the lunacy or the adrenaline, but a tickling feeling was running up and down the inside of his stomach. Vaguely his mind was running through how he thought it was cute how she covered her mouth in her embarrassment and how she tilted her head with a smile, and mortified he tried to lock these observations away. It had to be the adrenaline, that's what made the most sense, it also must be what was making his face feel like hot coals.

Ezekiel found himself back in reality as soon as she moved off of him, the two of them sitting side-by-side in momentarily silence as their bodies processed that danger wasn't so imminent. Even if they were apart now the previous proximity still lingered, his skin still tingling from where her breath had landed, remembering each touch. He furrowed his brows as he stood, brushing the dirt off his cloths fastidiously despite not caring about getting dirty. Being incredibly hygienic was never a habit someone could really form in a travelling circus, no matter how well they were treated. Silently Ezekiel told himself that he could remember it all so clearly because of the rush, along with all those years that he went without close physical contact, being in a cage most of the time did that to people.

He found himself only nodding in response, stretching out his wings and wincing as his nerves delivered pain to his head. There were some spots that would need to be put into a splint, but it wasn't anything he couldn't manage for now. "Copacetic." His voice was quiet and his wings folded again, as if to demonstrate that he would be fine and that there was nothing for her to worry about. When they had a real shot of getting out of here alive he found himself hardly thinking about the pain at all, and it wasn't as if his wings were special to him, not to mention that he probably would have never been able to use them for flight in the first place. Rolling his shoulders Ezekiel stepped forward and onto the path, looking both ways before gesturing to where Mr.Torture had come from on that assumption that he wouldn't head back that way anytime soon.

Again was their world filled with nothing but the sound of their own footsteps. There was no time for his body to relax, everything felt tense as they walked through the circus, stopping to check pathways before advancing, avoiding brutes and guards alike. Every one of his muscles felt tight, wound up and ready to spring at the slightest noise or hint of danger, anything that would jeopardize his own freedom. Yet he still stood close to Avalin, keeping her in grabbing distance in case they needed to run. While she could most likely run faster then him (Thanks to having normal feet and all), she didn't know the layout of the circus. After all that she had done for him, leaving her behind was the last thing on his mind, and both of them would get out of this in one piece if he could help it.

It wasn't far now, and he would have kept on going if it wasn't for noise, voices, and he turned to Avalin with a perplexed countenance. What was with that racket? Even if it was hushed the noise was such a contrast to the stillness of the circus, and it obviously wasn't from anyone that they should be running from. His wings twitched as he recognized a couple of the voices and he changed his course, walking towards the sounds rather than away, thinking that if it was what he thought it was then there was nothing for him to worry about.

He wasn't wrong, but he wasn't quite right either. He saw Ester and Mark, as suspected, but there were two other people that he didn't recognize, and then another who he didn't expect to be there at all. "Well, aren't we a bunch of eggs?" He questioned, making their presence known among the others as he walked closer, specifically approaching Ester and Mark, who he was more comfortable with. For a few quick seconds he looked between the two that were foreign to him, and then glanced back to Avalin, his eyebrows raised. Maybe she hadn't come here alone after all? "Are they with you?" He whispered, hoping that it was true, because if they were her friends then at least he could trust them a little bit.

Ezekiel stopped beside Ester, and in his surprise he was unable to force himself to smile, only managing a nod. So this was a full blown operation? He had to admit, he was impressed, and perhaps they would have a better chance at breaking out of this joint with more people, more minds. He tried to not think of the possibility of all of them simply being a bunch of saps. "Hi." He greeted her bluntly and looked over to Mark, the skinny boy's hands still tied and his own eyes widening. If this was going to be a group effort they should be getting out of her soon. The longer they stayed in one spot the more change they had at getting caught, and he would fight tooth and nail to see that they didn't meet with such a wanweird.

With this in mind he stepped forward without a word, avoiding vocalization as a means to not draw more attention to themselves, along with hoping that logic and nonverbal communication would do. He pulled out the key Avalin had nicked and quirked one of his eyebrows, curious to know if it would work on the chain lock as well. Figuring there was only one way to find out the winged boy sent a brief look over to the other male before knelling down behind Mark, his eyes squinting in the dark shrouds of the night, searching for where the lock was. When he found it he reached forward and grabbed the shackles, not giving any verbal warning. Really, he didn't know how to act in this kind of situation at all. Ezekiel bit the inside of his cheek as he placed the metal shaped by heat into the lock, holding his breath as he turned it, awaiting a click or a dreadful resistance.