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#Post#: 324228--------------------------------------------------
The Cirque Du Diavolo
By: David Date: February 23, 2013, 11:35 pm
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.....
...
.....
"Hehehe."
"One bright day in the middle of the night... two dead boys came
out to fight..." Began Peekaboo, speaking from black painted
lips. His eyes, wide and bloodshot, rapidly moved back and forth
as he scanned the area. "Back to back they faced each other...
Then saw Peekaboo fucking their mother." The clown turned
rapidly, staring down the path from whence he came with a savage
grin. His words prior to that were a mumble, but now he was
shouting. "One boy stabbed the shit out of the other, only to
find he'd just killed his brother!" Raising a hand, his gloved
fingers clutching the obsidian rod that served as a cane among
other things.
"Hahaha."
"I belong in a mental house... all I see is madness and it's
driving me crazy. Though it's a good thing I'm not lazy, or my
circus wouldn't be nearly as amazing." Peekaboo spoke in a low
tone again, his voice raising and falling at random intervals
for no apparent reason whatsoever. "Hey! You! Out of my tent!
You don't pay rent, your money's spent. You've signed a
contract, so your will is forfeit. You and your brothers are
working for me, you do as I say and I'll set you free. But I am
not liable for injury."
Why was he speaking? Who was there to listen? The Ring Master
was alone. There were no ghosts, ghouls, or goblins around him
but still he hollered out and shouted orders. 'Pitch the tent!'
'Lay the ring!' 'Bring in a cage...' 'Where's my seat?!' As he
hollered and shouted, cursed and cried, unseen forces applied
his will and set everything into motion. To him things were
different though. He saw things, saw people, monsters. In his
mind he had workers, as it was the only rational way the last of
his humanity could understand the forces of the demon within.
Small creatures, approximately three feet tall at the most, were
hidden in drab robes and in unison they carried on each of his
orders. They had been robbed of their souls, if they even
existed at all, and did nothing but what he'd ordered of them.
In a weeks time the grounds had been set, and the scene painted
perfectly. What stood beyond the make-shift gates was a
dilapidated carnival filled with many odds and ends. Rides
hardly worked, most of the metal was rusted and all the glass
was filled with dust. Costumes were poorly made, and often had
off-colored patches marking the cloth while shoddy second hand
prizes lined the shelves of the gaming booths. But the lights
were always on, and an attendant never once left the ticket
booth. There were always workers, always acts to be seen. If
anyone could describe the scene, it appeared to be a team of
doctors working on bringing a dead man back to life two years
after his heart quit beating.
There was always Peekaboo... too. The man who ran the show.
Always barking orders, always entertaining guests, and forever
keeping a watchful eye on the bastards he let work there. For if
they spoke out about who he was... or what truly took place
there. He would make sure that never again would a word pass
through their lips.
--
"Welcome... to Cirque Du Diavolo..." spoke the young boy behind
the glass. "Please, take your ticket and stay safe."
#Post#: 324469--------------------------------------------------
Re: The Cirque Du Diavolo
By: Gazini Date: February 24, 2013, 3:43 pm
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Jackal..... Werewolf.... Minotaur, No matter the beast nothing
was above being tamed. The beast tamer Cooky, made sure of that.
He had a fetish to sow the bones of all beasts on his own body.
His face never to be truly seen, because of his 'disease'. Place
over his head was the skull the biggest bull. On the brinks of
the skull were metal cords that ripped into the skin of Cooky.
Behing the eyes of the Skull were pure darkness. He would leave
the mystery to behind the skull for someone worth while.
Blood curling cries of sure pain would easily be heard as a man
walk into the Carnival. He was a new recruit that had to make
sure his presence was known to the world. Out pulled a megaphone
to gather all those in the town. " Step right up and see the
AMA....ZING.................PIGMEN." He said 'pigmen', with a
bit of a dark laughter behind the voice to make it creepier then
most. The Eyes in his skull would glow red, as 4 men came
crawling out from the shadows behind him. Bound at the wrists
and wearing bloody pig heads. As the crowd would gather, Cooky
would bring out a black balloon. " Watch these pigs fight for
their freedom. So they can make great bacon." He would blow up a
black balloon up and turn to the crowd. A finger over his lips
saying 'shhhh' once everyone was silenced, the balloon popped
and turned to a grenade. He would laugh like a little kid
hearing a cuss word. " Now pigs the object of this game is to
catch the ball." Again looking to the crowd with a giggle.
He would then toss the grenade into the circle around the pigs
and watch them fight over the grenade. The Bloody pig heads over
their faces, would make it extremely hard for them to see
exactly what they were truly fighting for. " Look at how these
fat swines battle for a grenade just to get freedom." After he
said that, the four men would lift their heads to eachother, for
they were completely over the bomb as it exploded before they
could whimper a tear. The beast tamer would turn around and
sigh, " Well folks as a Man of my word I let them all go free,
because I am for animal rights." He would let out a dark laugh
and cause the megaphone to shrink and vanish into his sleeve of
his suit.
Cooky would walk into the tent that had been raised looking for
his Master. With a quick wipe of his hands down his skull and
suit, all the blood would be slammed off of him to the ground,
leaving him completely clean. " I swear I fucking hate pigs.
Messy fat creatures. Now Where do I sign up for my spot? " Out
of the skull nostrils, smoke would emit out of them, showing his
relaxation.
#Post#: 326588--------------------------------------------------
Re: The Cirque Du Diavolo
By: Rilla Date: March 2, 2013, 3:04 pm
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Oh these aging bones! So long have I waited for this place to
return to bring back the former glory of the Dark Carnival.
Wasting away in that Podunk town, coughing and withering away.
Cough. Cough. Excuse me, I still have it - my sweeping arms
pointing towards free places to sit, and for those particularly
brave the front of the house. Whisper. Yes, whisper. Ring Master
probably doesn’t know I’ve yet arrived! You see, that man, that
man is the reason for us being here today! He is the reason we
live and breathe. Breath. Breath. The rest are coming, slowly
from whatever hole they buried themselves in, so find yourself
at home in our Dark Carnival, prepare for the time of your life.
Speak not about the horrors you see here, for tonight is the
final fright. Our Carnival, home to many different and unique
performers, beckons you deeper into it’s darkness - the decrepit
exteriors gives way to the darkness that dances within these
hallowed paths; winding and twisting, filled with the screams
and blood of others. Fear not, my dear patrons, for the fun is
just beginning - such sweet sorrow to be had.
I turn my back to head towards my quarters - yet you are still
here, aching for more, I see I have not lost my touch. Yes, your
addiction is strong, so strong that I needed only a bit of my
power to seep into it. You shall never leave this Dark Carnival,
but sure, I shall indulge you. The Ring Master is by far one of
the more dangerous creatures we have here in the Dark Carnival,
but rest assured, now that you are forever here, you will meet
the rest of the vicious performers. For instance, there is me -
a Bard, a mere bard to any, but my voice has very unique
properties you see. My cloaked visage looks down at you, head
hidden by a heavy hood; my voice is hypnotic. You wouldn’t know
it, even though I just told you, because my voice sounds the
same as a normal voice. But yet, here you are, still - eyes
agape, mouths parted in utter silence, you weren’t mentally
strong enough to escape it and now you are trapped. Yet, we are
not yet finished, for there is also one of our main attractions,
the man of Nothingness, made from the transgressions of the
Sacred - Py’Kou. The beaked man, of nothing, able to take any
object and turn it into nothingness- so dangerous to the touch,
that he is housed within a special tent, only allowed out when
the Ring Master deems it safe.
There are more coming, a particular one that the Master may find
appealing. A young Jester, dangerous though he may be. He killed
his previous Ring Master and now wanders aimlessly through the
streets, performing fatal parlor tricks. The charismatic young
jester seems to yearn for more, and his intelligence is out of
this world. His diverse abilities and deception will make him a
welcomed addition. Be careful though, he is a master at making
you think one thing and bringing about another. Such masterful
skill in those small bones of his, a welcome addition he will
be. Now, now, my friends, come back when you need more of a
lesson about the Carnival, I will have no problem teaching you
of the intricate workings of our humble establishment.
I turn my back once more and head into the darkness as the crowd
disperses; my items strewn across the bed, my desk just the way
I left it. Such a musky smell in a room long left alone -
moaning woefully for the return of a Bard. Still, I shall not
rest for the wicked know none. Heavy hood covering a face that
not even a mother could love, I make my way out into the world,
watching as the masses, naďve masses, starry eyes and in awe at
the magnificence of the Carnival - such people, our livelihood.
I make my way towards the very tent where I know the beverages
are served and simply wait - the fun will begin shortly.
#Post#: 326594--------------------------------------------------
Re: The Cirque Du Diavolo
By: Devon Date: March 2, 2013, 4:18 pm
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-Flip Flip Flip Flip-
The juggling man; the carnival freak, the dilapidated thing. It,
or he, depending on your stance on gender, flipped six small
glass globes into the air above his head. His face was hidden by
a semi-melted gas-mask, and his body was wrapped in dozens of
robes and belts. Hiding every inch of flesh with leather or
fabric, as he tossed the spheres into the air, and juggled them
with ease, the creature wobbled to and fro on massive feet far
too large for his shoes, and looked over the meager audience
before him.
-Flip Flip Flip Flip-
The juggling continued; without ooh or ahh from those in
attendance, and when the patrons began to leave, the twisted
carnival performer grew a very sickened expression beneath the
black mask he wore. One of outrage and vicious intent; of
mischievousness and malcontent, hidden beyond the dusty and
filth covered leather and glass. He growled and shifted his
stance; adding another glass sphere to those already in flight,
and when that alone did nothing to persuade the eagerly exiting
mortals, he added yet another, and then another.
-Flip Flip Flip Flip CRASH-
One of the orbs fell with a dangerous explosion of glass and
shrapnel; the dastardly juggler not so much as flinching from
the horrid sound, as he stepped over the scattered shards and
made his way closer to the three remaining patrons. They stared
at him with a look of confusion and resent; as if they had seen
better, or cared less for his act, but when another orb rocketed
into the dancing orbit, their faces all fell deathly white. For
it was not thrown up with his two outstretched and leather
covered arms, but instead a third and grotesquely formed arm had
jutted out from the folds of his cloak and let it fly into
formation above.
-Flip Flip Flip Flip CRASH CRASH CRASH-
Three more of the glass orbs fell; this time on purpose, and
when the first had struck home on the bleacher near the closest
patron, the explosion tore a great chunk of skin from the man's
leg and hip. Glass embedded in his thigh; sprinkles of shrapnel
would blast against his side and coat him in an icy sheen, as he
roared in anger and pain. Trying to stand, as the two other
glass orbs fell, and blew apart around him. There was no escape
as Flip, the juggler, brought orb after orb out from beneath his
veiling coat and threw them into the tents upper folds.
They each would fall before one of the paying customers, and
shatter their hope for escape with violent eruptions of shrapnel
and glass fragments. Leaving the now laughing creature to his
performance, as they each tried to crawl or hobble out of his
dangerous reach. Too late of course, had they began to move, as
he grabbed the nearest victim, the nearest new toy, and tore the
young boy in twain. From lips to hips, he split the youth apart,
and when he had the two halves held out for the remaining two to
see, he hurled them into the air as well.
-Flip Flip Flip Flip-
He juggled ten orbs, and two bloody clumps of human flesh, as
another arm, and yet another arm, were revealed to the
spectators trying to flee... and when he made his way up into
the bleachers, blood and glass adorning every inch of the first
two rows, he gripped both the surviving patrons with gruesome
clawed hands, and smashed them together with enough force to
create but one body. Their heads met first; shattering skulls
sounding like a cannon in the empty big-top arena, and with more
and more jamming impacts propelled by his thick fingers and
muscular arms, there was nothing more than a bloody soup to be
mopped up by the cleaning crew. Bones protruded from every
corner of the clumped flesh ball he held, and with a great
laughter that tore from his chest, the maniacal juggler drew the
three blood soaked corpses back into the reaches of his many
coats, and there they would forever remain.
Their blood would fuel the creature, their bones would make him
stronger, and their flesh would adorn the new limbs he would
create. With each fleshy victim, Flip would turn himself into an
even more unnatural oddity, and with each corpse he pulled below
the veil, he would gain another unseen trophy.
-Flip Flip Flip Flip-
Standing at the center of the big-top; with new patrons
entering, the juggler began his show anew, and threw four glass
orbs into the air. His cloaking coats were hugged tight against
his malformed body, and even before the first in attendance got
up to leave, he was preparing yet another banquet for his body.
#Post#: 327278--------------------------------------------------
Re: The Cirque Du Diavolo
By: Rilla Date: March 4, 2013, 5:03 pm
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[center][img]
HTML http://www.roleplayerguild.com/picture.php?albumid=2515&pictureid=40464[/img][/center]
The Dark Carnival - that was that place that insidious bard told
him to go after seeing him perform in the dark alley of a bar
somewhere in the middle of North America. He had no idea why the
Bard had told him to head towards that place, but it seemed his
tone switched when the Hellequin did not follow the speaker’s
suggestions at other actions. Something told the Hellequin that
the Bard was used to people listening to him and doing as they
were instructed. Perhaps it was the innate intelligence of the
Hellequin that kept him from simply falling in line with the
words of the man, but at this point, it seemed that the Carnival
was his best option at a life. Plus, the Bard had mentioned a
well liked figure within the Carnival community, a man known
simply as Peekaboo, or The Ring Master. He had been instantly
reminded of the Ring Master that once taught him the ways of the
Carnival and the ways of the thief- something that served him
well, and kept him alive all these years. His eyes were closed
as he walked down the desolate road, listening to the muted
screams of those who ventured in the Dark Carnival. It was still
some ways off it seemed.
Duffel bag on his back, and a sinister smile on his face, the
Hellequin stood before the Dark Carnival just one hour later,
looking up at the sign and further past them at the wide
assortment of tents that seemed to pepper the large land. He
breathed in and out, listening for just a few minutes at the
eager faces of those who walked past him, wondering if he was
performer or patron, but nonetheless to fussed with the fact
that the strange many as standing there, seemingly for no
reason. Oddly, he felt at home at the place, and took his first
step inside. His first order of business was to make his way
towards the Bard’s tent, which he found was empty, but was
quickly told that Bartholomew, the Bard, was at the tent where
the merry drinks were served. Falden, Alchviem Falden, the
Hellequin now stood before the Bard, looking at the man who told
him to come here.
Welcome, dear boy, to the Dark Carnival. I gesture towards the
bag upon your shoulder, sitting there full of all the knick and
knacks of what you think you need for your stay here. Please,
please, drop your bag and perform for these people - prove your
worth and prove me right, prove that you belong here with the
rest of the freaks of the world, entertaining those who will
forever be here to pay your wages![/I]
Falden looked on at the Bard and dropped his duffel bag, a sick
smile crossing his lips. He made his way towards the center of
the tent and immediately drew the eyes of the barkeep and the
rest of those who worked or visited the Tent. He showed his
hands, nothing there but in a flash it was filled with odd white
balls with different colored dots on them. The people there were
intrigued though some lashed out in pain - their eyes were
missing, five people all suddenly missing an eyeball! He began
to juggle them, viciously laughing as the rest of those who
watched seemingly ignored the pricing screams of those who were
relieved off an eyeball! They would soon learn hat the Hellequin
was! The demented Jester seemingly spit from the bowels of hell
had come to the Dark Carnival and was now plying his trade! At
one point, the eyeballs were all in the air and his finger
snapped and the orbs caught fire, each before reaching his
skillful hands once more. That was not the extent of his power,
no - no, that was just a simple trick, child’s play to the
Jester - what was really magic was the fact that when the eyes
were lit with fire, those who had been removed from their
eyeball, screamed louder - as though they were aflame
themselves!
All Falden could do was laugh - laugh merrily as the crowd
became consumed by his ability to maintain the small eyeballs!
He pointed around and around, a woman was now being sawed in
half by a fat man in boxers and a wife beater; another floating
in a pool of sharks, while blood poured from her very body; and
yet one more had taken over the juggling act of eyeballs! She,
herself, had none - for hers were now apart of the circling orbs
that made the round trip in perfect unison.
[i]Very good, Hellequin. I was right, Ringmaster will be very
impressed with such a good addition to the Dark Carnival - The
Cirque Du Diavolo
#Post#: 328516--------------------------------------------------
Re: The Cirque Du Diavolo
By: cyrone119 Date: March 10, 2013, 8:30 pm
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Slowly he shuffled down a dirt path. Left, right, left, right.
Shifting his pack a little to ease the burden. Whistling a low
tune and contemplating under his breath. He had heard the rumors
of a so called Cirque Du Diavolo, and from what he heard he had
questions. And those questions he needed answered. Here he
thought they could answer my final questions. For only those who
gave, lived, and breathed death could answer these questions of
his with no holding back, no remorse. His questions were not
questions that you ask on a whim, not for the faint of heart and
certainly not for people of a sane mind.
He saw it first from a distance. The ramshackle of tents and
flags. He climbed an old fence walked over to a top of a small
grassy hill. He sat and began to observe. A main entrance, an
assortment of tents, people milling around between tents,
strange animals, screams and other noises filled the air. Then
he felt it. The smell of death, of blood, of popcorn, peanuts,
and frying fats. From that smell he knew his questions could be
answered. And if so they desired he would earn his answers or
force them. He decided then and there that he would stay. Here
they could answer some if not all of his questions and he could
fit right in this so called circus with his own unique power.
He began to walk to the main entrance while all the way reaching
out with his mind and searching for the pawns of his to which he
would play his games. Rarely now did he play his games with
himself for he had found most answers he was looking for.
However with this situation it was apropos to at least let the
masses in on his knowledge.
Ignoring the man at the ticket booth he strolled in looking for
someone of stature. Passing a beast tamer he laughed to himself.
He'd seen those kind before, barely more intelligent then their
beasts they lacked insight on their training. He continued
knowing he would not be the one in charge. Continuing on he
passed a jugglers tent. Again he laughed. Such one trick ponies
they always turned out to be. However he saw the bard and
hesitated for a second. “Could he be it?” he thought... No. He
obviously could be due to his obvious intelligence but lacked
the air of authority. He continued. Finally he came across
a...man? “Ah, here we are.” he thought.
“Pardon sir, I would like to ask about possibly getting a job
here as one of your acts?” He said with broken english and a
german accent.
“I have questions you see. I want them answered. Ill work for
answers. What will you say? Can I join this fabled circus or
will you turn me away as so many others have?”
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