the performer.

austin abrams. twenty-five. demi male. he/him. pansexual & aquarius. ☾ﾟ is that ellie mercer behind the mask? whenever i see the bassist of the vain rogues and the ghost orchestra and actor at warhol palace & theatre in pigalle, i think of trouble by cage the elephant. rumor has it they are adventurous & charming, but impulsive & erratic can be their fatal flaws. what their neighbors in remi apartments call them is the icarian.

His heart dropped into his throat when the lights went out, irritants riling his stomach acid and the foul necrose that had been splintering his ability to consume food like a normal human for months ( maybe longer — it can go dormant, he remembered the doctor saying that, always the possibility it’ll come back ). Thumb and forefinger pinched the end of his button nose, his free arm bouncing and swaying absently the second that AJ began to wail, sensing the distress of everyone around her. Cyrek was shite at clamping down on his emotions, and some would see it as morose necessity in the presence of children. This time, it was not his own unhinged ridges bursting through the canvas and erupting despair for the offspring that he had bore into the universe, at times unintentionally. The chaos of others was translated to them, and after momentary composure, he turned to face the sound of Ellie’s voice in his right ear, saying over the caterwaul, “Are the triplets with you?” They were the vulnerable ones, four months and defenseless to sit upright, not that AJ was in a better position.

The mention of clowns forced his eyes shut, intangible fear that cascaded eliciting the sensation of the earth opening beneath his feet to pair the uncontrollable nausea that he was now experiencing after indulging in one too many joints with Evren. What was meant to subdue the boiling volcanic magma in his abdomen was insistent on being known as his stress levels rose, hissing, “If I see that fuckin’ clown again, in the dark, I’m gonna puke on his shoes —” Literally. Focus bleared away from his own breathing, torn between the mounting concern about which sobbing baby to tend to and the immutable panic as he realized he had no idea where Evren had gone. Now would be the perfect opportune for someone to spring out, and the itching, burning sensation of all eyes on him was incomparable to the attachment of a stage. There was muted malignity tainting the air, and if he were capable of inhaling the aroma on the air, Cyrek was convicted it would have changed. “I’ve — I’ve got her,” he said after a pause, a low growl escaping then when Lula screamed loud enough to pierce his good ear, “I don’t have enough fuckin’ hands for all these kids.” Spoken out of pure frustration, he lowered AJ to sit on the ground between his feet, detaching Tuffy the black stuffed bear from his punk pants and shoving it into her arms. “We’re gonna have to get creative. I’ll take one, you take the other two. Soomi and Amaris are just gonna have to cram in the fuckin’ stroller and —” God, he fucking hoped Stella still had Joelle. “I gotta fuckin’ find Evie when the lights are back. Or someone else so you’re not a one-guy fuckin’ army if they don’t.”

You’ve got the triplets with you? Hell, Ellie was their designated driver the entire evening — not that he was complaining. Although he did encounter a moment wherein his intrusive thoughts encouraged the bassist to begin zig-zagging throughout the paved out carnival streets with their shared stroller like it was Tokyo Drift, alas he was a reformed person as of the last... Eight months or so, and even before then he would’ve thought they needed to breach at least one year of age until he embarked on joyrides with the infants. “Yeah, yeah. Right here,” Absentmindedly patting the handle of the stroller as if his brother could even see the gesture that was meant to reassure and ease his conscience. “I’d count ‘em if I could, but, well, this doesn’t feel any lighter to cart around than it did earlier?” The petite blond supplied, nervous laughter jolting through his sternum. 

“Shiiiit.... I like to think so. Off-Broadway, at least. I’m still sort of new at the whole thing, but it feels like it’s where I’ve always been.”

“Honestly... Never say never. But I’d probably have to start with a gerbil or something first. Some would say even smaller and a fish, but those are so boring. Once I’ve gotten the hang of small marsupials, hell yeah, I could handle a pig.”

🍓 STRAWBERRY - do they eat their fruit & veg? what is their favourite fruit or vegetable?

“Of course I do. Strawberries are the love of my life, I don’t know what I’d do if someone never had the idea to combine them with milk and pulverize them until they were the most delicious food item to have ever existed.”

🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favourite season? why?

“Summer is not overrated in the fucking slightest. And if I had more money, I’d totally head down south and slum it in Marseille so I could swim in the Med all day and think about absolutely nothing.”

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

“According to my friends and family, I make up in volume for what I lack in stature. So. I guess that’s pretty loud. And I’ve got like, a normal voice? I dunno? Kinda deep? I hit puberty late, so I sounded like a chipmunk until I was twenty-one.”

☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon

“When I babysit my nieces, I always have them sit at the janky keyboard I have and learn a couple chords. I think AJ’s gonna be a real Beethoven one day.”

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

“Performing. Doing anything on stage, really.”

🎤 MICROPHONE - are they good at singing? what is their go-to karaoke song?

“Shit! I hope so, otherwise that’d be fucking embarrassing. Not that I sing much for the band anyway. But my ad-libs would seriously ruin our songs if I was off-key. Anyway, it’s Starman by David Bowie, always.”

carnival of time, after the blackout @devilsprxphct​​

If it were up to Ellie, there’d be a carnival held every week. Hell, every night, although that’d be far too distracting and he would never accomplish any work he sought out to do. Maybe the infrequence of the occasion made it all the more special in the memories of his nieces. They may not remember every day spent with their loving uncle, but they’d definitely look back on nights where the sky was a kaleidoscope of colors and their futures were infinite in the reflective walls of the funhouse and recall that he was there, much more enthused about the events than their father was — not that he faulted his foster brother. The grand and spectacular were Ellie’s specialties. Besides, he figured most of the time he was better suited as a more distant relative and Cyrek as their primary caretaker, considering his general ambivalence regarding the stricter facets of parenthood. He was a free-range child up until the Mercers were split apart in a final tear of fate, after all.