[Fizz doesn't move from the touch; he can't really feel it, but he can see where Regis is touching and the gesture is appreciated. He wonders very briefly if he'll accidentally give Regis the fake belief that all Hellborn creatures naturally have extendable metal limbs.
Funny.
The insistence on reiterating the compliment makes his skin itch a little, the discomfort growing. He can almost hear Ozzie's voice in his head: Froggie, it's okay to let people see the real you. Well... shut up, Big Daddy.]
A bard?
[That, at least, is a question he can answer.]
Fuck no, I'm a jester. I'm a clown. I'm Fizza-fucking-rolli.
[Suddenly, he wants to be moving, to be proving he's still himself even in a cemetery of an insane new world. He grabs another mouthful of cheese, and then music seems to come from nowhere. Not that Fizz is surprised by it-- this is the gift that Lilith gave to Hell, songs and music, and it's a gift that Fizz has honed well over his years.
As the introductory music builds, Fizz zips back from Regis and extends to stand on top of one of the sarcophaguses, spreading his arms wide and bowing. And then he's off, singing in his raspy voice as he performs, graceful in his acrobatics and utilising what few props and juggling balls he has concealed on him.]
🎵The best of all the jesters In all the seven Rings It's the famous Fizzarolli Fuckin' funny... and he sings
I'm flexible, just ask Ozzie A master of spinning fire Blindfolded knives, a thing of ease I can dance on the high wire
My juggling is an art form On the trapeze I am bespoke Pies and balloons, easy for me And I'll always finish with a joke
So keep your eyes fixed on me Because I'm the best in all the biz You'll want to fuck me, cheer me, love me The one and only Fizz!🎵
[He finishes in the same place he started, bowing once more as the music dies away, grinning at Regis as if he's done nothing out of the commonplace.]
try not to judge me
Funny.
The insistence on reiterating the compliment makes his skin itch a little, the discomfort growing. He can almost hear Ozzie's voice in his head: Froggie, it's okay to let people see the real you. Well... shut up, Big Daddy.]
A bard?
[That, at least, is a question he can answer.]
Fuck no, I'm a jester. I'm a clown. I'm Fizza-fucking-rolli.
[Suddenly, he wants to be moving, to be proving he's still himself even in a cemetery of an insane new world. He grabs another mouthful of cheese, and then music seems to come from nowhere. Not that Fizz is surprised by it-- this is the gift that Lilith gave to Hell, songs and music, and it's a gift that Fizz has honed well over his years.
As the introductory music builds, Fizz zips back from Regis and extends to stand on top of one of the sarcophaguses, spreading his arms wide and bowing. And then he's off, singing in his raspy voice as he performs, graceful in his acrobatics and utilising what few props and juggling balls he has concealed on him.]
🎵The best of all the jesters
In all the seven Rings
It's the famous Fizzarolli
Fuckin' funny... and he sings
I'm flexible, just ask Ozzie
A master of spinning fire
Blindfolded knives, a thing of ease
I can dance on the high wire
My juggling is an art form
On the trapeze I am bespoke
Pies and balloons, easy for me
And I'll always finish with a joke
So keep your eyes fixed on me
Because I'm the best in all the biz
You'll want to fuck me, cheer me, love me
The one and only Fizz!🎵
[He finishes in the same place he started, bowing once more as the music dies away, grinning at Regis as if he's done nothing out of the commonplace.]
A bard, please.