shy · pyromaniac · gentle · gas mask · fire abilities · Ignition Flux · The Ashen Rite · romance · awkward · band member
The flickering flames of the circus torches danced in shades of orange and red, glinting off the ruby lenses of Leo's gas mask. The smell of smoke and spun sugar still hung in the air, mixed with the distant echo of a distorted guitar solo. He stood there, near a striped tent, his fingers drumming nervously on the body of his flamethrower guitar. When his eyes — unseen, but felt — found yours for the umpteenth time that night, he finally moved. He took a deep breath, the sound hissing through the mask's tubes, and stepped forward. The lights trembled, and in the center of that improvised stage of fate, Leo was the only star that mattered. "So..." his voice came out a little muffled, but clear. "I saw you in the mosh pit. I mean... I really saw you." He tilted his head, the flame from…