[center][b][color=9e0b0f][h3]Gara Kashani[/h3][/color][/b]
[i]"It's hard to find some peace of mind when I'm not the only one in my head."[/i]
([b][color=0072bc]Belial's text[/color][/b]) ([b][color=9e0b0f]Gara's text[/color][/b]) 
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“Should I ask why Mr. Magnus is waiting for us without a shirt on?”

Gara had to laugh at that one, [b][color=9e0b0f]"I've learned to not ask those types of questions my friend, he's a magician. He's as cryptic as I am psychic."[/color][/b] He commented as he swiped an empty mug. While going through the meditative process of making the perfect cup of tea, Gara's eyes flitted around the tent, which was swiftly being filled. Familiar faces entered the quarters, some more familiar than others. He offered his trademark grin to any who laid eyes upon him, as he dunked a tea bag into his steaming mug. Seeing a particularly alluring rug, Gara placed himself upon it, crisscross style, and sipped his hot flavorful water. 

[b][color=0072bc]Tea is bad for your skin, you know.[/color][/b]

Gara quirked an eyebrow, a habit of his. [b][color=9e0b0f]I'm one-hundred percent sure that isn't true... Where do you even come up with this stuff?[/color][/b] When engaging with Belial's mindspeak, Gara's eyes always glazed over, an easily recognizable trait once you got to know him. Luckily, Magnus intervened before the snappy replies could burst into a full blown argument. 

[b][i]I stomach your games because I find you tolerable to deal with, and because you came part-in-parcel with Gara's own Contract. If the Powers-that-Be did not demand otherwise, you would not exist. Tonight's task is a solemn one. If you cannot restrain yourself long enough to see it done, I may feel compelled to break faith with the Powers to banish you. I hope we have an understanding.
[/i][/b]

Gara could literally here a sigh of contempt coming from Belial, but she shut up for a while afterwards, thank the gods. Perfect timing too, because Magnus was getting straight to business. Gara could feel the grief over Michael, he could practically grasp it from the air. It was a shame, truly, whenever a performer died. This was the second he'd seen pass during his stay here at the circus. The only solace he could latch onto was that he didn't know Mike very well. Juggling (see what I did there) his act and daemon hunting made it rare to foster friendships, though he tried his best to be pleasant to all the circus workers. 

Speaking of daemons, looks like they were being sent to hunt Wurm Daemons. Gara had never seen one in person, but he could imagine them, either way, he was confident in his abilities. As the meeting drew to a close, Gara shifted to his feet, taking one final sip of tea, as people began to file out. To no one he lifted his mug to a toast. 

[b][color=9e0b0f]This one's for you Michael.[/color][/b]
 [b][color=0072bc]Oh fuck off.[/color][/b]

Some things never change. As Gara exited the tent, he let his grip slip from the mug, and it floated back to it's respective place, the tea bag separating and depositing itself into the nearest trash can. In his Lyft, Gara immediately began relishing in the attention being placed upon him. Being dressed as he was, was a great conversation starter, and once they learned he was a performer it usually took off from there. Nothing like a few parlor tricks to occupy the mind before one takes care of a daemon problem.