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| Step Right Up!; [P Yaksha] | |
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| Topic Started: Tue Oct 20, 2009 10:17 pm (128 Views) | |
| Taiaka | Tue Oct 20, 2009 10:17 pm Post #1 |
 
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Taiaka set out just after dusk and moved with a listless pace. His shadow was drawn long and tall on the dusty road and he watched the darkening sky with hidden joy. The foothills were crowned with faraway storm clouds; they blurred the horizon line in shades of ghastly slate and flinty silver but did not threaten rain. Yet the moon, already rotund and snooty as it swam through the harvest sky, drowned the stars before they had a chance to breech the coming night, thus setting the shifter on edge. So, he plucked the silver cigarette case from the bindle slung across his chest, rolled a smoke, and let it hang from his lips unlit as if glad for its company. His feet ate up mile after mile on that old dusty road and it was just before midnight when he heard the distant sound of howling wolves. Taiaka lifted his chin and howled back. They did not respond. He kept walking, passing a field of sleeping cattle and adopted their buzzing cloud of hungry mosquitoes; they bit his ear lobes and sent him into a scratching fit. With a handful of stubby fingernails grinding against his scalp, he stopped moving long enough to notice a shimmer on the road ahead of him, as if some remnant of sunlight was causing a mirage to hitch and bounce in the dusty, moonlit pallor. Curious, he padded cautiously down the well trodden path, perturbed as to what could have caused the disturbance. And there, off to the side of the road, were two men. One, small and half naked, stood upside-down upon a single hand. He turned and tumbled in place, contorting his body in ways Taiaka did not think possible; elbows locking backwards while he rolled his shoulders and threaded his leg through the holes. It was hypnotizing to watch and Taiaka was so engrossed in the display that he almost didn’t notice the other man. This one, tall and barrel-chested, wore a top hat with a red velvet band around its middle. His black booted feet stood on a shiny ceramic dais and he held a roll of perforated parchment in his hairy hands. “You there! You have come for the show!” The man’s voice was deeper than the rumble of a summer thunderstorm and Taiaka took a step back, gaping like a landed fish. “Yes you, you there! Roll up and get your ticket to the greatest show of all time. It’s a limited offer my friend, dawn will come and steal your chance at beholding the hidden wonders!” The man in the top hat shook the roll of parchment in his hand at Taiaka and smiled a gap-toothed grin. “Come now, don’t be shy, just step right up and get your ticket! Its free you see. Oh boy this must be your lucky night, my friend! Come on, come on, and prepare yourself for the greatest show unearthed!” The man bellowed, never leaving his glowing dais. “What?” Taiaka said brilliantly. The contortionist bent over backwards, reached out a foot to the man in the top hat, and ripped off a piece of the parchment in between his toes. Still balancing on one hand, now smiling a sloppy smile, he waved the ticket at Taiaka, beckoning him to come forward. So he did, Taking slow steps towards the pair of showmen with the acumen of a child. “There ya go, son! I know you’ll enjoy the festivities! In fact, you’ll enjoy it so much you’ll never want to leave, mark my words! Roll up and get down!” Taiaka snatched the ticket from the foot of the contortionist and looked at it with wary eyes. He couldn’t read a word of what it said; either it was a completely different language or written by a troll with detoxification tremors. Taiaka looked up at the man in the top hat skeptically. The man didn’t say a word and instead, pointed his hairy finger across the road and bowed stoically. Taiaka’s eyes followed in the direction of the man’s finger and he was shocked to see a wide pathway wreathed by glowing orange torches. Dumbstruck as to how he didn’t notice it before, Taiaka grinned foolishly and nodded his head. The moment he stepped of the dusty road, he heard the man in the top hat’s voice hollering in the distance You there! You have come for the show! The torches on either side of the path flickered and hissed as he passed, lighting his way much better than the round face of the moon. Soon, the path began a gentle slope downhill. From his high vantage point, Taiaka saw the long snake of orange torches slither into a valley clearing and stop just before they met a tall circus tent. Hot ruby light spilled from beneath the behemoth tent and more men in black top hats stood at the flapped entrance. Taiaka was intrigued and continued walking. Before long, he heard the throbbing sound of melodic percussion and unabashed laughter. Pulled by these sights and sounds, Taiaka drifted into the valley with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. The closer he came, the more vibrant the music; now the drums, were accompanied by the tittering notes of pan flutes and cheery lutes. And on the wind also came the delicious scents of fried dough, caramel, animal dung and sweat. The people that mulled around were queued up neatly in a single file line and Taiaka casually joined at the end, clutching his ticket anxiously waiting for admission into the tent with an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. |
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Wed Oct 21, 2009 12:44 am Post #2 |
 
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Yaksha could be seen strolling along the beaten path of Debon, whistling calmly to himself. He wore a dark red suit of pure velvet, and in his left hand there was a solid black cane that was nearly three feet long; he seemed to use it to propel himself forward at top speeds. Ahead, he heard a loud voice crying something, pausing as he reached into a pocket. A small, dark purple bear lay in his palm, curled into a ball. It chest rose and fell slowly, and Yaksha gently set it on the ground, pulling out a small silver crown and sliding it onto his head. "Run ahead. Report on what you see." The bear slowly rose its head, snorting before letting out a hoarse whisper. "Do it yourself, I'm tired." Its head curled back under its chest, as it snorted. Yaksha leaned down, whispering soft arcane words as he prodded the bear, causing its fur to spark with flames. It snapped at his finger, before baring its teeth angrily. "Fine, but don't bother me again. I got better things to do." He rose onto his four legs slowly, shaking from the effort of standing under his own weight. After a moment, he dashed ahead, surprisingly enough managing to be completely silent as he lept down the street. Yaksha sat down slowly, crossing his legs and closing his eyes. He began to breathe in and out slowly, his mind retreating inside itself as he meditated. Life had grown so chaotic lately, and everything was coming at him too quickly to make sense anymore. Some days, the lich was simply drowned in the world, and he couldn't focus enough to do the simplest of things. All too often, he'd had to let his minions or pets work for him, acting as his eyes and ears as his own magic served to replenish what little sanity he could keep hold of. Finally, he felt something nudge his shoe, and he breathed out heavily, giving a smile as he held out a hand. An eyelid cracked open, and the other flew wide as he saw something in the bear's mouth. His fingers tightened around it, and he held it up into the air, examining it before exclaiming mildly, "...A ticket? Perhaps the man was a barker of some sort." "It was strange. The man seemed to know someone sent me. He gave me the ticket, told me to take it back to 'him'." Yaksha paused for several long moments, seeming deep in thought as he looked at it. The letters defied description, and simply looking at them caused Yaksha's eyes to water. Powerful magic emenated from the paper, and Yaksha finally gave a wry grin. "I suppose it's time to visit our friend, then. It'd simply be rude to pass up his invitation. Besides, this could be interesting." He rose slowly, the bear crawling into his hand and curling into a ball as Yaksha slipped him into a pocket. Several minutes later, Yaksha had made his way down the street, his cane twirling airily in his hand as he strolled down the street, humming. The barrel-chested barker had already stepped forward, showing off all of his teeth as he spoke. "You there! You have come-" "I have come for the show." The barker's grin faded for a moment, but he nodded empathetically after a moment. "Yes, very good! This is a limited time offer, when dawn comes we'll be packing up and rolling out again! Don't lose your chance at spying all of our hidden wonders!" He waved back to the contortionist, who was steadily placing a foot under his back, as he held himself up with his hands. He grinned widely, as he nodded, only to topple backwards as Yaksha spoke. "I could do better. But your attractions do seem to hold some promises." The lich's hand slid into a pocket, and he pulled out the ticket calmly. "This, yes?" The barker's brows knitted in puzzlement, before finally smiling and clapping Yaksha hard on the back. "So it was your bear! Very good, very good! You will be our special guest for the night, VIP! You see it all!" With a flourish, a large booklet of papers appeared in his hand, and he quickly pressed it into Yaksha's, grinning widely. "Anything you may need, all on me! Have a good time! You'll like it so much, you'll never want to leave!" The vouchers vanished into Yaksha's cloak as he bowed graciously. "And where would this tent-ah." Behind him, a dirt path had appeared from nowhere, lit by orange lamps hanging from poles. Yaksha's eyes were wide, and the flow of magic in the air was almost invasive as he stepped towards it. He turned back to the vender, before throwing his cane towards his airily, watching the man catch it, before giving him a quizzical glance. Yaksha chuckled, then turned back around, his cloak whipping. "Hold onto that, would you?" The lich moved across the ground quickly, smiling calmly to himself; whoever was running the show was a powerful mage, perhaps as strong as Yaksha. He would relish figuring out his tricks, of peeling back all of his illusions and showing the ringleader of this odd carnival who a true master was. The lich had even grown so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't even notice when he walked into a tall man, hair put up in dreadlocks. |
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| Taiaka | Wed Oct 21, 2009 3:23 am Post #3 |
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“Oy, watch where you’re going, yah?” Taiaka’s tropical drawl was laced with a bite of bitterness and he straightened up so he could leer down at the boy that bumped him. There was a midnight smile on his matte features, one without malice or contempt, and his pale eyes seemed to sloppily appraise the young man like a gem cutter. “No need to push, no need to shove, the shows big enough for everyone!” The shout came from one of the uniformed barkers whose job was to take tickets, tear them in half, and stuff them in a small ballot box. Taiaka snorted flippantly and moved the allotted steps forward, watching the heads in front of him disappear into the tent. “This better be one hellova exhibition,” said the dreadlocked man in a dull whisper, elbowing the boy who had bumped him, “Am I right? I’m right.” Taiaka nodded firmly, his smile taking on a hint of entitled smugness. He hated waiting in line, for any reason, and was impatiently shifting his weight from foot to foot as he tried to peer over the shoulders of those in front of him. From what he saw, the queue was made up entirely of corn-shucking mouth-breathing serfs; they smelled like dirt and fresh cut grass and twittered like nectar-sipping hummingbirds. They entered in pairs, disappearing beneath two heavy bat wings of royal purple canvas. Each time a pair entered the tent, he tried his best to catch a glimpse of what was inside: numbing darkness was the answer. Taiaka was a slow blink away from changing his skin into something small and unnoticeable when it was his turn to get his ticket punched. The uniformed barker had a face that looked like it was carved from soft cheese, yet his impeccably tailored suit was pressed with sharp creases and much cleaner that anything Taiaka owned (ever). The tips of his black boots that peered out from beneath the neat hem of his maroon colored britches held a deep, lacquered shine and his belt buckle (a ram’s head) glistened in the torchlight. The barker beamed at Taiaka, showing him a full set of pearly white teeth and flicked his fingers as if to say ticket, please. Beneath the sleeve of his woolen jacket, Taiaka noticed a line of grime on the barker’s arm as he reached out and took the shifter’s stub of parchment. “And this will be your partner for the evening,” said the barker, turning to the boy in the bleeding red suit, flicking his wrist for his ticket. “Yah?” Taiaka asked with a smirk, staring at the wily boy who had bumped him with clear eyes, “You’re not a screamer are you?” “Enjoy the show gentlemen!” The barker croaked and swung out his arm ushering the pair into the tent. |
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Wed Oct 21, 2009 8:36 pm Post #4 |
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Yaksha heard the voice serenading him, and gave a cool smile as he peered up at the man; his gaze seemed to imply that, as short as he was, this man was still smaller than him. As if to prove this, he pulled off his tophat, running a hand through his long brown hair as he spoke. "My bad, do forgive me. I was just wondering what sort of show this was going to be. Whoever runs this is going to be an interesting man..." He chuckled wearily as he was nudged in the ribs, before prodding him in the side. "I imagine it will be one helluva exhibition." Quite literally, too... As his new friend was impatiently hopping from foot to foot, Yaksha's eyes were trying to peirce the veil of the circus tent, only to catch pure darkness; even his darkly attuned gaze couldn't pick anything out. He squinted, as he muttered to himself. "Odd..." Before he could bring it up with the man, they had already been brought up, and the barker was forcing them together as he pulled back the curtain, grinning expectantly. Yaksha chuckled, before ducking into the tarp. “You’re not a screamer are you?” Yaksha paused for a moment, before giving a grim smile. "Hardly, my friend. In fact, I'm usually the one making you scream." His laughter was whipped away in the darkness, as a single spotlight lit up, revealing a tall, thin man in a black tophat. His smile seemed almost unnatural, so wide the top of his head almost threatened to topple backwards. His skin was wrinkled and tight, and he looked at least 80 years old; he was thin enough to look like he hadn't eaten in months. For several long moments, he said nothing, simply turning in circles and taking in the audience. The silence grew stifling, almost oppressive, and just as the urge to scream filled the tent, he cleared his throat to speak. His eyes glittered like dark diamonds as his hoarse voice filled the tent. "Ladies, gentlemen, such a pleasure to see so many happy participants. You'll have to pardon my voice; it's our last show, and I'm all screamed out. But I assure you, you'll have enough screams left over for me, as well." He laughed bitterly, before pulling off his hat to reveal a shaved head, with several colors of ink tattooed on it. "Surely you ladies and gentlemen have heard of tattoos, yes? I heard they're the latest style in these parts. And I simply couldn't help myself; I got a little carried away, as the fact may be." His shadowy gaze flitted across the people, as he slowly wriggled out of his suit. The collective sounds of awe from the audience seemed to fill him up, and he rose to his full height slowly, a shocking head over 6 and a half feet. There was no inch of skin to be seen, save his face; ink adorned every square inch of flesh, perfectly stencilled to create dozens upon dozens of pictures. And then, the man would move, and another dozens of pictures would move into the light. His wide grin grew even wider, and his voice, while as soft as a whisper, drifted through the tent like ink through a glass of water, quickly making itself known in every corner. "I am Archibald Gaunt. And I, the Illustrated Man, will be your guide into this tour of wonderful and terrific things. I warn you; this show is not for the faint of heart. If, at any time you should wish to leave this abode..." His silence filled the room like static, as he gave a rustling laugh like hay set on fire. "Too bad." |
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| Taiaka | Thu Oct 22, 2009 6:02 pm Post #5 |
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Taiaka’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead after his partner’s quip: “In fact, I'm usually the one making you scream.” The dark man mimicked the odd laugh that followed the comment and wondered if the guy was flirting with him; he didn’t know if he should be flattered or afraid and placed his unlit stogie behind his ear casually. An uncomfortable, icy smile froze itself on Taiaka’s lips and he was glad to be admitted into the tent without another awkward moment between the pair of them. For a moment, they swam in disconcerting darkness before being dazzled by the pomp and circumstance of pure showmanship. Taiaka nudged his partner again as the Illustrated Man began to run his game, excitement bleeding across his awestruck features as if he was a dimwitted child. “This is great, yah!” it wasn’t a question. He continued to bounce from foot to foot like a sprinter with too much sugar in his system as the ringmaster gave his speech. “Oooh, scary.” Taiaka whispered as if not to break the evolving chimera, pressing his shoulder against his partner’s like a big brother. The moment the Illustrated Man finished his rehearsed monologue, Taiaka offered a round of appalling applause that garnered sour stares from the gathered crowd. A few hands joined in, but most stood with rubbery, flat faces and wide, frightened eyes. Taiaka was unfazed by their lack of appreciation and stuck two fingers in the corners of his mouth to give a high-pitched whistle, elbowing his partner again. Without warning, the spotlight went dead and they were all plunged into darkness. Taiaka could hear his heartbeat in his ears and stared blindly at the fading image of the ringmaster that was burned into his retinas. “Oh, what now you think? I’m kinda scared. You scared?” Another obnoxious elbow. “I’m Taiaka by the way. You should know. In case I die. So you can carve it into my headstone. Assuming you live.” He laughed nervously and habitually began biting his fingernails. Slow music, soft and delicate, wound its way into his ears. It was a grinding sound coupled with screeches and whines and Taiaka wondered if it was truly music at all. There were no drums pounding out a bass line like he had heard outside the tent; instead it felt industrial and hurried, as if someone was pulling a shard of glass through his brain. He instinctively covered his ears with his hands as the ‘music’ grew steadily louder. Around him, he could hear people beginning to mew and shout and he could feel a panicked procession of tentative footsteps. Taiaka though, never moved from his spot. That was of course, until his spot was no longer there to stand upon. The floor (which had been a soft amalgamation of hard packed dirt and sawdust) suddenly did not exist and Taiaka felt his stomach fly up into the back of his throat as he fell though empty space. The sensation was exhilarating, if not absolutely terrifying in the sheer blackness that surrounded him, and he croaked like a crow out of shock. There was no time to worry if a pallet of pungi sticks waited at the bottom of his plummet though, because his descent ended quickly- in a pile of spicy scented hay. The music was excruciatingly loud, but it had a melody now; an unpleasant melody that reminded Taiaka of an up-tempo funeral dirge. He crawled his way out of the heap of hay and stood, trembling, at the slow building rise of ruby colored house lights and the spectacle that filled his every sense. |
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Thu Oct 22, 2009 7:37 pm Post #6 |
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Yaksha watched the Illustrated Man with a faraway smile, reaching into his own pocket to remove a cigar. His partner was already making a fool of himself, clapping wildly and bouncing from foot to foot like a child. Still, Yaksha was too concerned with the consuming darkness and the shifting tattoos of their ringleader to comment; the entire display stunk of magic, but Yaksha still couldn't focus enough to figure out how it was being done. He finally gave a soft sigh, as he spoke in the warm tones of a man trying his best to keep his temper. "No, I'm not scared. Whatever is happening here won't last, and you won't die. I can promise you that." He reached into a pocket, pausing as he noted his matchbook was nowhere to be found in his cloak. He glanced around slowly, his gaze taking in all the other people in the tent who were mesmerized by Archibald's shifting images. Archibald seemed to be drinking in the applause, growing ever stronger from Taiaka and others being drawn into the enchanted ink, before clapping his hands once, sharply. The lights went out, and there was a split second of panic, before the ground seemed to vanish. Yaksha's mouth opened in shock, but a moment later shut itself, before more than a startled, "oh" escaped. He was already steadily channeling magic under his feet, looking for the familiar ethereal staircase he often walked. His eyes widened as he realized his magic seemed to slip away before he could focus his powers, and he finally gave a small sigh as he fell in earnest now. "Simply wonderful..." The lich landed in a pile of hay, allowing himself a soft cry of pain as he pushed to his feet, brushing his suit dutifully. "Are you alright, Taiaka? I trust there was some hay for you to land in, as well." As he spoke, the ruby lights finally caught Yaksha's attention, and the music began to fill his ears, causing him to shudder for a long moment. Still, there was an intrigued smile on his face as he stuck a hand into the hay, looking for his cigar. "This is getting interesting..." Behind them, Archibald spoke again, already standing by a pile of hay, where a man lay next to it, his head lolling at an angle; in the ruby light it was impossible to tell if he was bleeding, but a widening pool of black liquid was coming from his mouth as he gurgled softly. "Such a shame...it seems one of our guests missed their soft landing. An unexpected event, but nothing we can do about it now." He looked down at the man, his cold gaze piercing the man's as he finally gave a wider grin, and clapped his hands again. "Well, no use crying over spilled milk! After me, boys and girls! Much to see, much more to do!" He was already moving ahead quickly, his shifting tattoos seeming to create a soft rustling sound almost like whispers in the ruby light. |
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| Taiaka | Fri Oct 23, 2009 12:23 am Post #7 |
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Much of Taiaka’s exuberance had left his face when he turned away from the twitching corpse and looked at his partner. He idly plucked stalks of hay from his wooly hair and ignored much of Archibald’s off-color commentary. Somewhere in the goat milk soaked recesses of the shape shifter’s brain, a gear turned and informed Taiaka that, perhaps, all was not well and good. His hand snaked out and touched his partner’s bicep for just a moment as if to stop him from joining the ringmaster’s parade. “How ‘bout we not go that way. With him.” Taiaka’s chin jutted at Archibald and his voice seemed much deeper and thoughtful than previously. Yet, when he looked around the crimson enclosure, he lost confidence in his own suggestion. The elegant ruby light seemed to follow the ringmaster like an aura, shrouding everything outside the Illustrated Man’s immediate path in dancing shadows. Taiaka thought he heard laughter coming from the darkness and chalked it up to an overactive imagination. “Nevermind.” Taiaka straightened up, his tone laced with a air of underlying flippancy as if he did not want to appear yellow to his partner. He picked up his pace since he had tarried, yet lingered at the back of the pack. They passed by a small painted stage where a set of Siamese twins puffed plumes of blue smoke from each other’s lungs and a small tank that was filled with writhing snakes with human faces. Taiaka gave the latter a wide birth and walked behind his partner. Every so often the shape shifter would whisper something under his breath and scratch at the brands on his shoulders absently. Finally, Archibald stopped and spread his arms wide to stop the crowd’s progression. “Boys and girls, this is one of my favorite attractions.” He said in a curious, tittering voice. “Behold!” To his left was a very large cage covered with a thick tarp. In a single jerk, the Illustrated Man yanked away the tarp and took a step backwards. Oh’s and Ah’s erupted from the crowd but stopped suddenly. Inside the cage was…nothing. Taiaka snorted and pulled the unlit stogie from behind his ear and placed it between his lips. “What? You don’t see it?” Said Archibald. “Ah, just you wait.” The ringmaster bent over and removed a slab of raw meat from a metal bucket next to the cage. He hurled the steak between the bars and stepped back. The meat vanished as if gobbled up by some hungry invisible beast. The oh’s and ah’s began again, this time in earnest. “You, you there, come feed my pet. I promise he doesn’t bite…hard.” The ringmaster pointed to a skinny woman in a paisley green dress. The woman came forward shakily, but with purpose, and dipped her hand into the metal bucket. She removed another slab of meat (which Taiaka could smell even from the back of the throng. It smelled like copper and rot) and stalked slowly to the side of the cage. “Don’t be afraid, my child, he’s as gentle as a baby…” The woman reached her arm back to toss the meat in to the cage but Archibald’s hand grabbed her wrist. “No, place it down nicely. You wouldn’t want to bruise his meal now would you?” The woman shook her head no and took a few more steps closer to the cage. She bent down, and reached out with a trembling hand...and screamed. When she drew her arm back, it was severed at the elbow and she stared stiffly down at her bleeding stump. “See,” said Archibald in a loud, sweeping voice, “He likes you,” The Illustrated Man gave the shocked woman a gentle push and sent her tumbling into the bars of the cage. “For dinner!” Whatever creature was inside that cage began gnawing at the poor woman with craven abandonment. Taiaka watched the back of her head cave in and clumps of chalky pink fall from her skull and litter the cage’s floor. The invisible beastie pulled and twisted the woman’s body until it was yanked lifelessly through the bars- then it set upon her legs and belly with razor sharp teeth. Bathed in the woman’s blood and offal, Taiaka could make out only the barest features of the creature’s muzzle before turning away out of some sort of ill begotten regret. “Come now boys and girls don’t stray, much more to see!” Archibald offered his hand to the caged beast’s head and stroked it leisurely. The thing seemed to purr. Or perhaps that was Taiaka’s imagination too. |
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Fri Oct 23, 2009 3:04 am Post #8 |
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Yaksha's hand waved over the corpse, and his brows furled as he did again, murmuring softly. He finally crouched over him, murmuring soft eldritch words as he touched the cheek; not a thing happened, though the spell should've made it possible for the corpse to sit up, among other things. He only barely registered Taiaka's comment as he remained baffled by this abject failure of his spell. Something was seriously wrong, beyond the deaths and the mysterious ringleader. The atmosphere turned almost oppressive as Yaksha rose, turning to run a hand through his hair again. "This is just getting worse and worse..." He finally noticed Taiaka moving after the group, and Yaksha seemed to debate for a moment, before taking a step off course. There was a soft rustling, followed by a shadowy claw swiping out towards him, and slicing through his suit. Yaksha gave a soft curse, leaping backwards as his hand flew to his chest. Things were just getting stranger and stranger, and there were still no answers. He took several deep breaths, obviously trying to calm himself, before shoving his hands into his pockets to still the shivering. "I suppose I should see what else they've got to offer." The lich caught up with the group just as the woman was pushed into the cage by Archibald. As the back of her head vanished with a loud crunching sound, Yaksha stepped towards the bars, trying to get a good sight of whatever beast was doing the damage; invisible or not, Yaksha's sight should've been able to strip the beast of disguises. Once more, the magic failed, and the beast remained veiled behind some potent spell Yaksha could only fathom. He exhaled slowly, pulling a hand from his pocket and laying it on the bar. He spoke slowly, with a grim smile. "This is getting out of hand. I would've forgiven him for letting a man fall to his death, even let the invisible meal pass. But that joke was simply horrible, and bland evil has to be the worst thing out there." He turned to Taiaka, as his gazed pierced the man's eyes, seeming to root him to the spot. "My name is Yaksha. This Archibald Gaunt has something strange going on in this circus, and I intend to find out what. If you want to help me, keep your eyes open and look for anything odd. Otherwise, step back and wait your turn to die." He seeemed to glide past Taiaka, reaching a large wheel as Archibald was speaking. "And here we have another of my personal favorites. This is the circle for our famed knife thrower, Ezekial. His blades always strike what they aim for." He chuckled darkly, before glancing at the people with a wide smile. "Who'd like to volunteer to test our dear friend's resources? You there, surely you would like to." He pointed to a corpulent man, trying to sidle away from the group; the look on the man's face was equal parts fear and dismay as his body seemed to betray him, propelling him towards the circle. Ezekial stepped forward from what looked like thin air, and grinned at the group from behind his horrific mask. His fingers were gnarled and seemed fused together; Two or three fingers on each hand looked more like a single lump of flesh with no space in between. His teeth were crooked and sharp, and looked fit to rip and tear flesh. As he spoke, his voice came out as a garbled mush, almost unintelligible. "Nawt tah gud wit mah hands, yer? Gotter use mer teefz." As he spoke, he grabbed a knife, sticking the hilt between his teeth and biting down hard, as the portly man was being strapped to the wheel, eyes wide. "Hurr comz!" He spat hard, and the dagger shot forth with deadly speed. Many watching would've claimed at first glance that the dagger was nowhere near his chest, seeming to aim more for his leg, before it veered directly upwards, and struck him in the heart. There was only a moment for stunned silence as blood trickled from his mouth, before Archibald clapped again. "Another wonderful show! So, what would you children like to see next?" Yaksha watched the display silently, knowing that their actions were reaching some deadly head, and that none of them could expect to be alive at the end. This carnival was quickly turning sour, and the music seemed mocking, as the scent of cotton candy and funnel cakes turned into a scent of blood and urine. Finally, his eyes grew wide as he glanced at Archibald, elbowing Taiaka as he hissed, "Younger." Surely enough, the Illustrated Man had lost many of his wrinkles, and small wisps of white hair could be seen sprouting from his head again. While, at the start he had looked every bit of 80, he now looked a fit 70; even his voice had grown more full and lively as they continued on their tour. When Gaunt's eyes continued to roam over the people, he finally rose a finger, and pointed at Taiaka. "You, boy. What's your favorite part of the circus? The lions? Maybe the elephants? The clowns are always a treat..." |
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| Taiaka | Fri Oct 23, 2009 11:35 pm Post #9 |
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Most of the straights had been scared stiff and, while screeching and moaning like whippoorwills, made a run for it. Taiaka saw the hapless spectators get pulled into the surrounding darkness by inky talons and disappear, leaving only muffled screams in their stead. When Yaksha addressed him, he nodded slowly and chewed the inside of his cheek; though he wouldn’t admit it, Taiaka had been trying to shift out of his skin since before Ezekiel’s display of his dead aim to no avail. And yes, Archibald’s puns had been insufferable: Yaksha was dead on in that regard as well. Along with the fact that the ringmaster’s sloughing skin seemed tauter and smoother; amplified, younger and filled with morbid glee. So when the ringmaster specifically picked Taiaka out of the flailing crowd to answer a seemingly pointless question, he was stunned into silence. His mouth opened and closed and he offered a faint greeeee sound. That was before he felt invisible fingers milking his brainstem, urging him to speak the truth. He was going to lie and say he enjoyed the lions and the elephants and the clowns, but a deep rooted magic took hold of his psyche and griped the very core of his being. “I like the Bearded Lady.” The moment Taiaka blurted his words out, his already dark cheeks grew even darker and a raw anger roiled in his guts. The embarrassment and rage seemed to break the spell that was holding him and he was able to stagger backwards towards Yaksha and growl. Archibald laughed hardily, holding his belly and wiping at his eyes dramatically as if Taiaka’s answer was too humorous to endure without bursting out into tears. The Illustrated Man, after regaining his composure, appeared even younger than before and Taiaka, though not impaled or being turned into invisible excrement, felt stiff and sore all over. “Okay.” He said suddenly in no more than a stage whisper, “I see your game.” He turned his head and looked at Yaksha, dreadlocks covering most of his face. But Archibald had grown disinterested in the dark shifter and his partner, reaching out to grasp the minds and hearts of those too frightened to leave aura of ruby light. It left them with an opening, an opportunity to try something other than turning tail and running. Very slowly, as if to not draw attention to himself, Taiaka began toying with the beads, bones and trinkets that adorned his serpentine plaits. There, curled up in the hollowed out center of a chunk of soapstone, he found his impetuous wisp. The little creature slipped into Taiaka’s palm and began to pulse with soft, bluish light. He tried his best to conceal the wisp, but it began to burn his fingers and struggle for freedom. So, Taiaka let go of it and watched as it bolted off into the darkness, cutting a shadow free swatch into the syrupy black. The moment Taiaka moved to follow it, the ringmaster whipped around and bared his teeth at the shifter. “Oh no you don’t!” Archibald yelled, raising his hands into the air, making all sorts of mystical gestures with his fingers. Taiaka yipped like a scolded dog and took three long, quick strides after his wisp before the spell slammed into him. He did a back flip in the air, flew a few feet and collapsed into a pile, limbs akimbo. The wisp bobbed above his master’s head and seemed to laugh ( as much as a wisp can laugh). Yet, as much as it hurt, Taiaka noticed something very odd: The spell that hit him did not come from anywhere near Archibald. In fact, it came from the direction the little wisp had been moving. Groggily making it back to his feet with a look of pure indignation on his face, Taiaka checked himself for wounds and found none. Not even a scratch. Only when he turned around to face Yaksha did he notice a strange sensation coming from his backside…and a long, black tail growing from beneath the hem of his kilt. Taiaka felt a little faint at the sight of the thing and unconsciously swished it back and forth, curling and uncurling it as if it had always been there. After giving Yaksha a wild eyed gaze, the shifter bared his own teeth at the ringmaster. The wisp, tittering, zoomed out once again, following the same path it had taken a moment before. Taiaka’s scowl flipped into a knowing smile. The spell had not been a killing blow. And why? Well, because Mr. Ink was probably not in charge of this three ring debacle. And if that was the case, Mr. Wisp was like a coon hound on a scent trail, sniffing out the man behind the curtain. |
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Sat Oct 24, 2009 12:37 am Post #10 |
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The lich watched the display silently, giving a cool smirk as he heard his friend say he was most interested by the bearded woman; surely he could've had his reasons, but Yaksha could still hardly wipe the leering grin off his face. Suddenly, a picture popped into his head of what the man's mother must've looked like; he had nothing for reference, but it was probably a safe bet that she looked much like her son. After a moment, Yaksha's smirk grew wider as he pictured a large beard on her chin, before nudging Taiaka. "Hey...they say men go after women that look like their mothers. What does that say about you?" He snickered softly, knowing that the statement would probably get him more hatred than any he'd seen in a while. A moment later, a wisp slipped out from Taiaka's hair, and began to float lazily away from the group, as Yaksha watched with thin slits for eyes. It seemed to be heading towards a large mass of writhing shadows, and as Taiaka moved to follow it, he heard Archibald shout, making the hand gestures to cast a spell; Yaksha's eyes widened as he saw the spell fly, not from the Illustrated Man, but from the mass of shadows the wisp had spotted. The magic struck Taiaka, sending him backwards and causing him to fall quite hard. Yaksha was by his side in a moment, running hands over his skin to see he was unharmed. Finally, he gave a wan smile and held out a hand to help him up; the hand fell to his side as he saw the man's long black tail sweeping from side to side. He gave a soft grunt, before reaching forward and gently tugging it. "It seems real enough...but there's something more important." He rose his head to Archibald, as he gave a grim, mirthless smile that showed off each and every one of his teeth. "I'll find out how you're doing this. We'll tear you apart slowly, and your screams of agony will be like the finest orchestra for me. Make no mistake, Archibald..." He leaned forward, almost hissing his last words. "I am not a nice man. I will make you HURT." Archibald took the threat with a smile, his hands clasped together at his breast as he spoke. "And I relish the challenge, most certainly! But, what's a good mystery without some more suspense? There's merely..." He paused, glancing over the group slowly as he spoke. "Eight of you left, and the attractions are calling! Take your pick, my children. No matter where you go, it'll be right into the palm of my hand." He clapped softly, his grin stretching his face wide until he was just as wrinkled as before; however, now there was glossy black hair rising from his head in small tufts. "I'm eager to see what method of suicide you few favor." As he spoke, one of the figures stepped forward, smiling confidently as he spoke. "I don't care about where you guys wanna go, I'm going to see the clowns. There's no way he can make a bunch of guys with big shoes intimidating." Archibald stepped forward, his wide grin seeming to threaten to consume the man as he spoke in a soft whisper. "Was that a challenge I heard? Ooooh...I'm going to relish this." He turned, and waved the few after him. Yaksha paused, before laying a hand on Taiaka's shoulder. "Taiaka...I think I've just about figured this out. But listen to me when I say...you can't trust a damn soul in here. Not even me, if it comes down to it. Trust nothing but your own mind." He paused, before smirking cooly. "Solipsism isn't always the wrong answer." ((Locked for judging! It will be reopened after the contest is finished. ^_^)) -Seth |
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| Taiaka | Tue Oct 27, 2009 8:28 pm Post #11 |
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Taiaka didn’t know who Solipsism was, or why he would help them, but he nodded his head anyway. “It’s okay though,” he patted the hand on his shoulder and slithered out of his partner’s grip, “you can trust me. I be real.” In the won light of his wisp, the smile Taiaka gave Yaksha appeared feral and tipsy. “Real enough to be ready to slit this guy from gut to gullet and to crack you in the jaw for talking about my mama. One before the ‘nother though, yah?” Taiaka gave a bullish flaring of his nostrils just as his wisp darted off; the shadows seemed to grow around them like spider silk, thick and wet like ink. When the shifter picked up his feet to follow after Archibald, he felt sluggish, as if pulling himself from deep mud. The wisp careened over their heads and the darkness receded like waves of smoke. In the aura of ruby light around the ringmaster, Taiaka could make out growing silhouettes that seemed to bounce and toddle on puppet strings. “I’m not going to stick around and wait for one of the main attractions to eat me.” He said this as he turned back to Yaksha. The sound of screams erupted from behind them and The Illustrated Man’s splitting laugh pierced the grinding music. “Dah more poor souls he snags, dah younger he get. But dat spell came from someplace else.” Taiaka brought his tail around and held it awkwardly for emphasis. His features were flat and humorless. “I’m gunna follow the wisp and see where’s she’s trying to go. I’d suggest either following me, or going with Archie.” The ringmaster was bellowing his usual bad puns and rehearsed narration as tall, gangly patchwork harlequins danced in and out of the shadows. They looked as if they had sewn themselves together from scraps of skin, lengths of circus tent and horse hair. Gaudy and trite, these beasts smeared the fluids of their victims across their bone faces, and painted wide smears over their eye sockets and mouth holes. Taiaka realized it wasn’t Archibald he heard laughing; it was these creatures as they flayed their victims to use as crude punch lines. “Come Yaksha, we follow the wisp, yah?” As if the little glowing ball could understand her master’s cues, the thing careened up at a sharp angle and darted forward. The darkness encroached with a smile, but Taiaka trotted off after his pet, careful to stay in its pale glow. Inside the light, the tent seemed hollow; the floor was dirt in places, stubby plains grass in others. The lingering scents of carnival food subsided, giving way to the subtlest hint of faraway thunderstorms and a clear, crisp night. As he moved, the more Taiaka felt the ringmaster at his back; growing stronger, joking, and having a grand ol’ time. The wisp slowed to a crawl as if afraid and Taiaka whispered something under his breath as it made a pass around his head. The ball of light hovered in place for a moment before moving a few feet away. The shadows seemed thicker here and the shifter had to swallow down the knot in his throat before following. But something was there. At first, Taiaka thought it was a person and visibly hesitated, but as he got closer he saw it was actually a mound of fresh dirt. The wisp bobbed above, humming softly and pulsing bravely. Stuck in the dirt like a grave marker, was a solid black cane that was nearly three feet long. |
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Tue Oct 27, 2009 9:39 pm Post #12 |
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Yaksha gave a grim chuckle as he spoke in the tones of a man trying to explain something simple. "Assume this is all an elaborate trick. What do you think the first thing your 'friend' would say is...?" His cool smile made it clear he expected no true answer, and he was already turning, causing the wind to whip around his cloak. His hand slid out and landed on the man's shoulder, but his words were soft and soothing. "We can't afford to trust someone else for now. But, you're the most convincing thing I've seen this whole time...let's go." He was already watching the wisp float leazily ahead, trying to ignore the cavorting monsters as he followed Taiaka. Yaksha had begun to channel his shadowy magic into his hands, hoping to see the familiar appearance of his shadowy constructs, pausing as he noticed that there was nothing coming to his side. "It's getting stranger and stranger...who is this Archibald, anyways? The man pops up almost overnight, runs a haunted carnival that he kills people with...he's obviously got strong magic, but where did it come from? No one this strong could've gone unnoticed..." They had finally reached the small mound of dirt, and Yaksha stepped forward to grab his cane, his brow furrowed as he spoke in low, confused tones. "I gave this to the barker, asked him to hold onto it. There's no way we're even remotely near where we met him..." His hand slithered out, closing around the cane and pulling it out carefully. "Whatever's happening here, we don't have long. There can't be more than three or four people left with Archibald, and they're probably going down fast. We have to figure out how he's doing all this..." |
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| Taiaka | Tue Nov 3, 2009 9:13 pm Post #13 |
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“We?” Taiaka asked, his words marinated in vinegary sarcasm. He gave Yaksha a wary narrowing of the eyes as he padded around the heap of dirt. “Maybe you, but not me. I dun’t care one red rat’s hair how old Archi is doing….whatever be this thing he be doing.” The shifter’s tail switched back and forth before wrapping itself around his ankle like a living tattoo. “But you’re right about one thing,” Taiaka lowered into a crouch at the foot of the grave and picked up a handful of loose, warm dirt. “We don’t have that much time. If like you said, you gave the barker your cane, well…” The dark man’s voice trailed off and he tossed the handful of dirt aside, “I think we should ask the occupant of this shallow grave where he got it from then, yah?” Taiaka remembered the steady glow of orange torches and the long, narrow trail he had followed after first getting his ticket. A thought struck him, but he did not act on it. Instead, he set to work and raked trough the mound of dirt with his bare hands, digging until he felt something hot touch his fingers. He scraped a bit more of the dirt away and stood, looking at Yaksha. Inside the grave was the exposed head and torso of the Illustrated Man, top hat, velvet jacket and all. “This is a new one.” The shifter’s chuckle was unhealthily deep, void of levity. Taiaka went to move forward to inspect the corpse, but something stopped him. His wisp bobbed and danced around his head like an angry hornet, but the dark man was struggling with a slow dawning realization. “Yaksha,” He turned his head and looked at his partner, “How do you kill something that’s already dead?” |
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Wed Nov 4, 2009 9:55 pm Post #14 |
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Yaksha stared down at the corpse absentmindedly, his hand sliding into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. He spoke almost as if from a trance, moving the cigarette to his mouth slowly, as if underwater. "There's at least half a dozen ways, depends on how he came back. If we can't figure out how he came back, and how he's doing this, our chances of killing him are zero. This Archibald is strong, frightfully strong..." He rose a finger to his cigarette shakily, murmuring soft words, then cursing as he threw it on the ground. "But, I know one thing, Taiaka..." He turned slowly, and his eyes were full of a pure, distilled venom that held no trace of humanity. While before he had seemed angry, now he was furious. The rage seemed to fill every pore of his body, running off of him in waves as he spoke in a thin hiss. "He's broken one of the few rules I can't stand to see broken. This is necromancy, plain and simple. And he's abusing it, in ways a person should never toy with life and death. There's a few things in this world I can't stand, and the greatest is a person who can't give death its proper reverance. This guy...he's going to see what death is truly supposed to be when I beat him; an end to the agony." |
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