on your feet | ADRIEN'S TORTURE SESSION

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Their first victim in awhile was found roaming the territory, aloof and awaiting for someone to find them who was polite, but they were not so lucky when the Ringmaster had found them. With skill and precision, Maverick had taken a hold of his newfound clown, knocking them out within seconds. Afterwards, he was dragged home. For their first session in awhile, Maverick was pleased with such a influential youngling coming into his possession. The squeakier the scream, the better.

Now tied up, Adrien laid sprawled out. When it was time, Adrien would drag him onto the main stage. Vulnerable and unprotected, Maverick had every intention of torturing him slowly and painfully until the kid subjected to his own misery in front of his willing audience or else the show wouldn't be exactly so pleasuring. Plus, who liked a fast climax? Slow to the big reveal was much better. With that in mind, he had prepared the Wheel of Doom(how cheesy) for today's event with many extreme and minor injuries to have the young adult experience.

Awaiting the arrival of his members into the stands, he stood backstage with Adrien's rope in his palm. Soon the show would begin.

[member=1271]ADRIEN.[/member]

MALE
18 Y/O
WERECAT
SAN CREADO
- MEMBER
TAGS

In moments like these, Adrien had let Chat take the main pillar. Adrien wasn't really good with confrontation or fighting, that was Chat Noir's job. As the blonde's eyes slowly opened, revealing a toxic green color, Chat attempted to pull his arms free from whatever was holding him down. He didn't like to be restrained, and it was obvious. He didn't like not having freedom.

"So, who's the one who catnapped me while my host had taken over? I'm assuming it was you, bud. Nice to meet'cha, I guess." Grunted the werecat groggily, the aching in his head causing a roaring headache. God, he must have gotten hit upside the noggin. "Listen, I'm not into bondage unless it's me tying my partner down, so if you'll let me down, that'd be great." Chat spoke with a nervous laugh, his fluffy black tail twitching between his legs as he hoped to whatever God there was that he'd be let go, however impossible that was.

♡ — TAKE ME TO CHURCH, WORSHIP ME LIKE A GOD.
It seemed that tortures were a familiar thing for the Berserkers to host, but it wasn't like Cleo was against it. She loved to see blood and guts, she just couldn't help it. The scent of a cat-human hybrid had caught the succubus' attention, and the horned demon slowly made her way over to the show which was being held.

"Ooh, you got a cat boy. Lucky bastard." Laughed Cleo, brushing long black strands of hair from her golden gaze. Maybe after Maverick was done, he'd let her drain all of the energy out of the kid?

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[spoiler=tags :: updated 8/20]basics.
✯ cleopatra omnium // cleo.
✯ female // she/her
✯ 23 years // mentally varies // spiritually old
✯ member of the berserkers
✯ no titles // no unofficial titles
✯ reincarnated from cleopatra, the egyptian empress.

appearance.
✯ succubus [ref]
✯ In her normal, human-like form, Cleo has deeply tanned skin, an hour glass figure, a flat stomach, and curvy hips. Her hair is long, straight, and black, reaching her hips in length. She has deep, rich amber eyes, nearly golden in color. She has a beauty mark under her left eye.
✯ accessories - Sports her thorned whip on her side, as well as her daggers.
✯ scars/marks/tattoos - She has tattoos going up her right thigh and across her arms. Her ears are pierced normally. She has a scar across her back of three claw marks.
✯ accent - Elegant, airy voice. Egyptian.

relationships.
✯ best friend
✯ mentor/apprentice
✯ [G1] npc x npc
✯ sibling of nobody.
✯ hyperpansexual // panromantic
✯ taken // in love with luciano belial
✯ no offspring

interaction.
✯ storage // plot
✯ physically hard // mentally hard // no powers
✯ attack in underline[/spoiler]

They haven't had very many onlookers to watch their shows - their acrobatic freaks and whips and magic tricks. Despite this, they very much had a living, breathing audience of their own. They were their own audience, watching and always anticipating something interesting to come out and play. Tequila, of course, found tortures to be an exquisite pastime himself. He's heard all kinds of amusing stories, the faces the captives would make when being pulled against their will and reshaped into a monstrosity, reflecting the twisted hearts of The Berserkers. It was when Tequila recognised a new scent crossing their hypothetical border that the boy knew exactly what had happened. A new clown to entertain him with their rain of cries and shrills. He wonders if they could sing him a song instead, perhaps even play an instrument like violin or piano... well, provided the clown didn't lose any fingers.

Tequila approaches calmly with no more but his pointed nose and placid smile appearing upon his fringe-covered face, his bell earrings swinging gently from the motion of his strides. He stops beside the Egyptian woman, hearing her snide about the clown's appearance. His face lights up (though it's difficult to tell considering most expressions are seen through his lips). A cat boy? Like a hybrid then, another monstrosity born from the ashes of mankind. He feels oddly excited, so excited in fact that he lowers himself to unbuckle his boots, pulling them off his feet and letting his toes rest on the cold earth so he can feel the tremors of movement beneath him. As he has said before, Tequila has sensitive feet, so sensitive that he uses his boots to muffle most of what he was capable of feeling. This, however, was a special case. He has something to zoom his attention on, more than ready to feel the agonised squirms of the clown. As long as Maverick kept the show going with his talking, echo-locating the male's movements should be a cinch.

"Handsome catch," the seventeen-year-old says, almost purring his amusement. He presses his hands against his cheeks in a playful manner, a childish aura radiating from his overwhelming interest in the clown. "Oh he has a tail!" He has noticed the way an extra appendage seemed to fidget in nervousness, like as if the confident and 'fearless' words the male had been spewing was all an attempt to appear calm. Tequila points to where he believes the direction of the tail to be, bells chiming along with him. "That's a tail right? Is it fluffy?" He sure hopes it is. He's never met a mutated person before...or at least he's never met a person with a tail. "Does he have ears too? Can I pet them?" When it came to situations such as this, Tequila was bound to act younger than he actually was. He simply couldn't help himself.