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calling_logs2016-12-10 12:19 am
thygospelevity) wrote in calling_logs2016-12-10 12:19 am
Entry tags:
Fa-la-la It's Off To Hell We Go
WHO: Kurloz Makara, those he's invited to join him, and those who wish to run into him
WHAT: A trip to the Midnight Carnival
WHEN: Backdated a bit, late November/Early December.
WHERE: around the City of Tomorrow
NOTES/WARNINGS: Cursing, standard murder-y creepy horror-carnival things.
The sky is a deep bruise, tinted pinkish orange by the setting sun that scrapes through the last cracks between the horizon and clouds. Lights pour through the open doors of wooden caravans, hitting the skeletal trees and casting long and looming shadows. The path grows darker and darker the deeper in one goes, but the lights of the Carnival keep anyone from getting lost-- at least before they enter, that is.
The music plays just slow enough to ring unnerving, interrupted by the dinging game-sounds, the rickety roller coasters and creaking Ferris wheel, and, of course, the distant sound of screams. The colorful tents stand tall, chains strung up between them where shadowed figures seem to dangle or walk. Navigating around these chains are skeletal stilt walkers with eyes that glow. Upon the ground roam beasts and monsters, loose from the Freakshow cages, and who could ever forget the kings of the carnival?
The clowns grin with all their teeth, missing, pointed, or otherwise, even if a glasgow smile had to be cut to do it. The paint on these faces is either deliberately mussed or painted on with what may not actually be paint. The jolly jesters dress in stripes and polka dots, a miasma of all kinds of colors. Juggling clubs fly, sledgehammers are wielded, and swords are swallowed, flames breathed high. They bring to the air even more sounds; bells, honks, and high pitched laughter.
Among all this chaos is one boy, somewhere between fitting perfect and standing out sore. He wanders the Carnival with a racing heart and eyes of wonder. The invitations to his new friends have been sent.
A - Group Meets!
He may or may not have ducked in and then back out of the Carnival by the time this particular group arrives. How could he not have snuck a first peek with such temptation? He doesn't see the harm when the best parts are always inside the tents. It is everything a place of fear promised, still combining the peaceful Carnival he knew within, a strange and miraculous thing to see.
It is difficult to resist talking to all the mirthful, even if their paint-work is clearly lacking. His own paint and eyeliner are pristine, as always, though for the occasion he has painted over all his bones where the flesh is exposed. He's dressed in his high purple boots, and his favorite spooky pastels with the strip shorts and suspenders. The lack in the other clowns is the only thing he's thus far been disappointed with from the nearest scenes.
He sits on the steps of a caravan, humming the carnival tunes as he watches the Ferris wheel commit to another slow loop. He kicks his feet whilst waiting for his friends to join him in seeing the first carnival beyond his church that he's ever been to.
B - Riding Solo!
The wood of the Merri-Go-Round has been through some tough times, it seems. There is rot and there is rust and splatters of candy red paint. There are holes in that platform that could swallow a foot, or more than. Still, Kurloz climbs on entranced, for he finds something truly wonderful; a Capricorn. Of course, it's a little off in places, more hoofbeast than bleatbeast in some parts, more dragon in others, but he doesn't care. It's a mother fuckin sea-goat. He is getting on it.
The ride kick-starts, turning slowly round so he can see all the Carnival and all the warping reflections at the ride's center. He isn't so focused on that though. The light reflects on those iridescent scales of the capricorn just like he remembers they used to do. The sharp teeth gleam pretty. It's a sweet and soft bit of nostalgia amid the wild chaotic mirth. Of course, he's not so drawn in that he won't look up and away when he's called or catches sight of a new friend from the corner of his eye. He grins and waves and hops off the moment he can.
WHAT: A trip to the Midnight Carnival
WHEN: Backdated a bit, late November/Early December.
WHERE: around the City of Tomorrow
NOTES/WARNINGS: Cursing, standard murder-y creepy horror-carnival things.
The sky is a deep bruise, tinted pinkish orange by the setting sun that scrapes through the last cracks between the horizon and clouds. Lights pour through the open doors of wooden caravans, hitting the skeletal trees and casting long and looming shadows. The path grows darker and darker the deeper in one goes, but the lights of the Carnival keep anyone from getting lost-- at least before they enter, that is.
The music plays just slow enough to ring unnerving, interrupted by the dinging game-sounds, the rickety roller coasters and creaking Ferris wheel, and, of course, the distant sound of screams. The colorful tents stand tall, chains strung up between them where shadowed figures seem to dangle or walk. Navigating around these chains are skeletal stilt walkers with eyes that glow. Upon the ground roam beasts and monsters, loose from the Freakshow cages, and who could ever forget the kings of the carnival?
The clowns grin with all their teeth, missing, pointed, or otherwise, even if a glasgow smile had to be cut to do it. The paint on these faces is either deliberately mussed or painted on with what may not actually be paint. The jolly jesters dress in stripes and polka dots, a miasma of all kinds of colors. Juggling clubs fly, sledgehammers are wielded, and swords are swallowed, flames breathed high. They bring to the air even more sounds; bells, honks, and high pitched laughter.
Among all this chaos is one boy, somewhere between fitting perfect and standing out sore. He wanders the Carnival with a racing heart and eyes of wonder. The invitations to his new friends have been sent.
A - Group Meets!
He may or may not have ducked in and then back out of the Carnival by the time this particular group arrives. How could he not have snuck a first peek with such temptation? He doesn't see the harm when the best parts are always inside the tents. It is everything a place of fear promised, still combining the peaceful Carnival he knew within, a strange and miraculous thing to see.
It is difficult to resist talking to all the mirthful, even if their paint-work is clearly lacking. His own paint and eyeliner are pristine, as always, though for the occasion he has painted over all his bones where the flesh is exposed. He's dressed in his high purple boots, and his favorite spooky pastels with the strip shorts and suspenders. The lack in the other clowns is the only thing he's thus far been disappointed with from the nearest scenes.
He sits on the steps of a caravan, humming the carnival tunes as he watches the Ferris wheel commit to another slow loop. He kicks his feet whilst waiting for his friends to join him in seeing the first carnival beyond his church that he's ever been to.
B - Riding Solo!
The wood of the Merri-Go-Round has been through some tough times, it seems. There is rot and there is rust and splatters of candy red paint. There are holes in that platform that could swallow a foot, or more than. Still, Kurloz climbs on entranced, for he finds something truly wonderful; a Capricorn. Of course, it's a little off in places, more hoofbeast than bleatbeast in some parts, more dragon in others, but he doesn't care. It's a mother fuckin sea-goat. He is getting on it.
The ride kick-starts, turning slowly round so he can see all the Carnival and all the warping reflections at the ride's center. He isn't so focused on that though. The light reflects on those iridescent scales of the capricorn just like he remembers they used to do. The sharp teeth gleam pretty. It's a sweet and soft bit of nostalgia amid the wild chaotic mirth. Of course, he's not so drawn in that he won't look up and away when he's called or catches sight of a new friend from the corner of his eye. He grins and waves and hops off the moment he can.