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[ Somewhere in Adstringendum, there is a man standing on a circular stage. The area around him is desolate. Barren. The light from the outside world only comes in through fractured windowpanes, skittering across the the ground only to be refracted off of pools of dank, almost brackish water. ]
Come one, and come all to the largest celebration of Idiots in the land; Mothers, daughters, sons, and fathers, come and lose your inhibitions so that you may find your truest selves!
[ His arms cast out to the east and the west. Various spotlights snap to attention on the man, bathing him in a soft red light as a literal throng of people at least a hundred-strong streams out and around him, each of them appearing to be more absurdly dressed than the last. ]
The Feast of Fools begins!
[ooc: The Feast of Fools. ]
Come one, and come all to the largest celebration of Idiots in the land; Mothers, daughters, sons, and fathers, come and lose your inhibitions so that you may find your truest selves!
[ His arms cast out to the east and the west. Various spotlights snap to attention on the man, bathing him in a soft red light as a literal throng of people at least a hundred-strong streams out and around him, each of them appearing to be more absurdly dressed than the last. ]
The Feast of Fools begins!
[ooc: The Feast of Fools. ]