Jean "Buttons" Delacroix's Questionnaire

I live on Circus road in London, or at least that is where I spend most of my time. The circus I work for (Le Chapiteau or The Big Top) provides a small wooden trailer to live in. It's covered in posters from past circus tours and painted in black and white. The interior is small and tight, with the bare minimums for living; a twin sized mattress that is stained and worn down with age, a small folding chair, portable gas cooker, a cracked mirror where I apply my makeup, and of course my one luxury item, a portable radio where I can catch up on the goings on of the outside world.

Why do I choose to live there? Well, because it is free firstly, the circus allows me to make it my abode without ever charging rent, although I suppose nothing really comes free when you work for them. And also because it is the only place where living life in clown makeup isn't completely frowned upon. It is my home, and where I consider my family, the other members of the circus, to be.

"That is a don't ask don't tell question, no?..." - As written by Buttons

Delacroix gets his money mainly from the circus, he performs as a clown and is pretty well known within the circus for his act. However, as you might guess, the salary of a clown can be undesirable to say the least and he's always found himself on the end of excuses such as "The circus just hasn't made enough money this year". So to make ends meet he has found a few more lucrative ways of making money. Gangs, and arms salesman, a circus is a perfect place so many distractions you don't pay attention to what's going on in plain sight.

There has been one consistency in life. I see it all over, this strive for order, this obsessiveness with law, with leadership. I see it as absolute nonsense, and my ambition? Anarchy, the total destruction of all ruling governments. Never was much of a protestor, those methods were always too ineffective for me. And the people are not acceptant of a vision like mine, they are all too caught up in their possessions, their luxury. The illusion of their safety is one promoted by their rulers, and as soon as they stop being useful they will learn quickly how much they are truly valued.

When it comes to my goals I am driven, taking any deal I can. The main limitation? No animal harmed, I have worked my life in the circus and seen some truly mistreated animals, who are we to torture, abuse and kill them? We are no better than them. Killing people is on the table, but no man deserves death for being, it's the real monsters I will feel no sympathy for when their time comes.

Government figures, cops, those who claim to "Keep the peace" are nothing more than oppressors and, provided it is beneficial, a swift death is a mercy compared to the lives we are cursed to live. That being said, unnecessary death is nothing more than a fuse on a bomb ready to blow, just when it's most inconvenient. So while casualties are a given, a violent route is not always the most efficient and I plan my moves carefully.  

So what I strive for is a total end to Governance, starting by forming small communities, spreading the idea of anarchy around. And eventually I wish to completely irradicate the need for any social hierarchy.

I was 18, just starting my way in the clowning business in training and I met the animal trainer. He was a pathetic man, in a top hat and leopard print suit, but what he truly wore was the aura of a man who thought he was owed submission. I had no idea just how deplorable that man was until I saw the way he treated the animals. Whips, prods, nothing was too deranged for him. Seeing this disregard for the animals made me realise that humanity really was kidding itself. We are not this sanctity of law and order, we are animals all the same, using the façade of intelligence to put ourselves top of a hierarchy we designed ourselves. It filled me with rage that a man could think this way, so I decided to act. That night, as I was assisting with the caging I locked eyes with the leopard in its enclosure, it seemed to look at me with a sense of mutual understanding of what must be done. I left the latch open and loose, mounted a large cage to the side of it and waited for my opportune moment. 

The trainer had just locked his tools of oppression away. That's when I gave the door a kick, it sprung open and out came the leopard, unleashing justice onto this monster. I feigned innocence, the one thing about being a mute is that people seem to assume it comes with stupidity and innocence. It's ridiculously easy to mark it up to a silly accident. The school had to postpone all training for the investigation and I got off with all my qualifications.

I take no pleasure in taking a fellow person's life, but what that man used his limited life doing - he deserved everything he got. 

That night made me realise:

The game of life is an unfair one and the only way to win is to topple those who make the rules.

Alexis Gavreau - The ringleader. The owner and leader of Le Chapiteau, the circus that Delacroix works for. He wears a bright red suit and a top hat, he is handsome and on his face is a curled, thin moustache along with a consistent playful smirk. To Reynold's he is a boss as well as a close friend. Although he tends to keep his relationship with Gavreau fairly professional. He is the only man who refers to Delacroix by name instead of his clown persona "Buttons". 36 Years old.

Adeline Lemoine - Gymnast, tightrope walker and the general talent of the circus. Confides in Delacroix, as he is mute he can be quite the listener, even if he never seems to have to give advice. There is a bond of trust between the circus members but none as strong in this circus as Delacroix and Lemoine. Although, they never have shared an act. Delacroix appreciates her kindness and sees her as a wonderful exception to his rule of the monstrosity of society. She has dark skin and black hair tied back into a bun. Her makeup is fantastical, expressive and her attire follows suit. When she isn't working her attire is civilian, usually loose and baggy tops combined with sweatpants, and she always questioned Delacroix commitment to his clown attire in contrast. 24 Years old. She is the closest Delacroix has to a friend.

Violet Adams - A child that always seems dedicated to seeing Delacroix act, she is an orphan fascinated by the acts in the circus and, after Delacroix scared off a thug who was following her around, she has become entranced by his performance and tries to visit often. Delacroix cares for her deeply and sees her as the daughter figure he never had. Any harm to her would be simply unacceptable. She is a short blonde girl, around 12 years old, she wears second hand clothes that don't fit very well, and always seems to have some bruise or scrape from her adventures around the city. 

My childhood? Pretty miserable if I'm honest. Being a mute kid doesn't make you popular, it makes you a target if anything. Between the teasing and the threats I never really felt like I belonged. 

My parents were middle class, a teacher and a banker, one brought home the bread the other just needed something to do. They were kind enough, gave me a decent place to live, at least they didn't actively attack me for being mute. But I always felt as though they wished one day they'd come downstairs to hear me say "Good morning" in a sweet little boy's voice. I always felt like I was the not so great prize after 9 months of hard game shows. They loved me of course but they expected better of me, and I guess when clowning became my thing it was off the rails for them. 

School was good for education and nothing more, friends aren't made from silence and even if they found it cute or amusing it'd wear off after a week. So no, my childhood wasn't great, people with good childhoods don't become clowns.

Ah love. One word with a million meanings. 

Yes, I do believe I have been in love, many a time. I'm French, what can I say? We have a knack for passion. One time I fell for a girl, a gymnast I met during my training. She would write me notes and I would write back and it felt so fresh, never before had I found someone so willing to accommodate  me. We dated a short while, but unfortunately she went for a more prestigious career, things had to end. 

I still think of her sometimes, when I'm in my trailer thinking of what could have been. I wonder if she does the same.

Clowns. 

HA no I'm kidding, but what is with these tough questions no? You're serious? Ahhh alright fine if we're getting serious. 

My biggest fear is hatred. The kind found in countries that try to split their communities. It gets to a point where the people don't know why it is they even hate one another, just that they do. It's like everyone is on a hair pin trigger these days, waiting for the excuse to snap, the excuse to release their hatred. Papers rile them up, first it was Jews and immigrants, then gays, then trans people. Again and again they point a finger and laugh as these people convince themselves that their fellow man committed the crime of existing. 

Seeing someone truly hate, that is chilling. Nothing can beat that. And the indifference some of us have to it is misguided to say the least. We disregard it as a few bad apples, we see cops kill and we ignore their hatred, reduce it to a simple mistake, a mistake that happens again and again. We see a man furious on TV about someone living their life normally and suddenly that's just a normal thing, they're allowed to do that. We do not see that in doing these things we separate our own community further, and my true fear is that once they have us fully divided there is nothing we can do to stop them.

My most prized possession? What is there to value really? Us humans are so attached to our belongings. 
Belongings - Interesting word, as if we belong with any inanimate object really. 

If I'm honest though, I have a fond attachment to the one luxury I afford myself, a small portable radio, solar charged and with a speaker that barely fills my trailer with sound it is a welcome distraction from the rest of the world. Whenever I need to relax I switch on to Classical FM, and I let my mind drift with the calming melodies. There are few things better after a long day than that. I remember first getting it, it wasn't even something I bought funnily enough. It had been in lost property for months, the poor thing was old, maybe from the 90s. But I had found much charm in it, I picked it up and asked if I could keep it. They were about to throw it out so the answer was yes naturally. Still to this day I look back on the sky blue paint sticking out from the lost shoes, the phones, the wallets and the charm that I saw in that small thing still radiates from it.

The biggest problem in my life is balancing life and the guns trade business, it's hard to find time for both and getting police off your tail can be a tricky thing when you're so noticeable. I have taken to disguising myself, making sure I look as inconspicuous as possible. I do it for a good cause but still, I don't know if I could ever face my workmates again if they were to ever find out about me. The money barely keeps me afloat, the side hustling I see my friends do is insufferable to me, I could never take on that sort of role, so instead crime is all I seem to be good for. Still though, the troubles arise especially when I look children in the eye, teach them moral stories, make them laugh. Even though I know deep in my heart that maybe, just maybe I am a monster.