Mun name (optional): RenMun/Muse AIM: HarenchiToItamiMun/Muse LJ: be_destinedMuse Name:Takarai "hyde" HidetoMuse Age: 38Three skills your Muse has apart from musical talent: drawing, design (clothing/stage), decorative napkin folding (because muses without quirks are boring)Three to five positive traits that describe your muse: well-intended, loyal friend, creativeA matching number of negative traits that describe your muse: stubborn, not particularly good with strangers, somewhat whiny (not great with heat, cold, pain, or hunger)Muse's eq: SehhmetMuse's power: calming touchMuse's Country of Appearance: MiiSample Post:The "Are You Ready" tour had been underway for enough time that hyde had become a little tired of all the rushing around the country while working on the upcoming album. With a night free to use for whatever purposes suited him, he settled down in his hotel room, a bottle of wine and the television keeping him company for what was meant to be a lazy, uneventful, relaxing night. After a glass too many, he rose, a bit unsteady on his feet, and grabbed his shoes, feeling the urge to step outside and get some fresh air, most likely to pollute it with cigarette smoke. Once outside, the deserted nature of the parking lot alerted him to the fact that it was a ridiculous hour of the night and that he shouldn't be out at all, but he didn't particularly care until the last glass he'd downed rather quickly before heading outside made its effects known and he felt the need to go back in, swaying dangerously as he shut the door and leaning against the wall to steady himself. That was not an unusual reaction to so much wine, so he wasn't concerned, but the bubbles...well. That wasn't normal.Naturally, he took it to be a dream inspired by too much drink when he found himself speaking with chicken-human cross that called itself an Eq, and he tried very hard to wake himself before considering that it might be seriously happening. It was very hard to take in when he was drunk. He listened, though, and at least vaguely entertained the idea that it might be real.Come morning, he expected to wake up sprawled gracelessly on top of the covers of the bed in his hotel room, suffering a pounding headache and disinclined to go about the day's activities. Instead, he woke feeling rested and terribly confused. How had he gotten into woods? He'd been in the heart of a city; he couldn't possibly have wandered. But dreams tended not to come complete with the feel of hard ground and the all too convincing scurrying sound of fairly nearby animal life. Nor did dreams tend to come with the desperate desire to be home, nursing a cup of coffee and wondering if his wife would be upset by him attempting to teach his son to play catch at the same time as trying to reteach the dog to play fetch. Clearly this was actually happening. Clearly things were not going well. Clearly he needed to sit on the nearest rock and chain smoke until something came to him.
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