The goblin you see before you has a glazed look in his half-lidded mauve eyes. They don't so much look at you as at you. Like he's taking in and appreciating your every physical detail. Looks like his head is in the clouds. He seems to bob his head to a mental drumbeat. The man's totally relaxed.
His olive-colored skin seems tanned by the sun. He smells of oil, metal, rain, grass, and some hallucinogenic plants. He spikes his blonde hair into a Mohawk with three ponytails in the back. His posture's bad, prioritizing comfort over style. Sticking out of his back pocket are two drumsticks. Also in his back pocket is a bag of those plants you would smell from a mile away.
Formerly the leader and drummer of the goblin band "Desperado Crash Mambo Combo" or "DCMC", Baccio seeks to recapture the old fun feeling of performing. He's looking for band-mates who are more into the soul of music than the money and is happy to have access to more than his own ever-greedy people.
Tonda gossa, diary.
Kezan's gone, man.
My bandmates are gone, too.
OJ was stuck on the island... Lucky drowned... Magic is a zombie... Gorgeous got his face roasted by that Volcanoth thing...
The band's dead. My friends are dead.
At least I still have Dree. That's some relief... She's always been there for me. Even through I'm lazy and sort of dumb.
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