[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Jk9wrt1.png[/img][/center][color=#e3dac9][u][b][center]The Compound - Wit's End[/center][/b][/u][/color][color=#e3dac9][u][b][center]Mentioned - [@Marrok][/center][/b][/u][/color]

What truly separated the denizens of Devo Town from one another was how they carried themselves. In a city where freaks were uncommon, a world where humans reigned and those considered an oddity were cast aside, appearance pinpointed worth and standing. However, as one might have expected, a town of Deviants followed different rules. Where some appeared to belong in story books and fairy tales, others reminded an onlooker of darker folklore. It was a sight one quickly came to understand was the norm of Devo Town, and for those like Willow who had been tossed into the pit only moments after birth, there was no other reality. Perhaps this was the reason why he remained calm in the face of adversity. The reason why he was difficult to shake off his feet. It was a resilience those within the compounds were taught to adopt, lest they fall beneath the weight of chaos which so often ruled Devo Town.

Indeed, Willow had seen much in his short fifteen years, but the caution he felt when approached by this most peculiar creature stemmed from how this fool, this jester, presented himself. It was the same man Willow had seen only moments earlier, he was certain of this. What had changed? Everything. It appeared to be a completely different entity who now approached the boy where he sat.

"Hah!" Shade laughed, excitedly slapping his hand against Willow's shoulder, "what a psycho! I fucking love him!"

Despite his young age, Willow had come to learn that the most devastating ability possessed by anyone, inside or outside the compounds, was unpredictability. Jesters were just that, unpredictable. This one seemed far more dangerous, however. No, he did not display massive weapons in the form of talons and claws, he did not reveal scaled flesh or erupting fire. Willow could measure that. This was an enigma, a hidden blade, a viper ready to strike at a moment's notice. It was intriguing, to say the least. The young mutant could not recall himself growing hesitant around another, not since the orphanage. It was safe to say that this was the reason for an inching smirk exposing itself upon Willow's pale lips, razor sharp teeth peeking out from within. "It's very sunny outside," the boy offered, his voice a soft, calm and raspy tune which clearly contrasted the jester's words. "If I ordered a bowl of porridge," Willow began, his expression one of entertainment, alongside curiosity. He wanted to see what was going to happen. "Would you bring me one?" He finished, tapping slender, clawed fingers against the wooden table, clicking the tip of each digit against the surface.

The pale young creature felt his heartbeat accelerating somewhat at the interaction, a mixture of intrigue and caution blending together to draw a picture most vivid. Shifting his attention from the jester, to the bar owner and then back, Willow gently rested a hand under his chin, obsidian orbs fixed on this most enchanting presence. "Since you're new," the young necrokinetic spoke, "welcome to the compounds, you and..," he paused for a moment, before speaking once more, "the fool." Willow's grin grew somewhat wider at the statement leaving his lips. Bob had not moved a muscle, not an inch, and neither would he. Whether Shade was a bad influence or if Willow's inner curiosity had been roped to the forefront, there was no denying that the insanity presented with flamboyant intent was enough to color him an intrigued spectator.