Midnight Calliope
CHARACTERS: faygot & a whole lot of friends victims.
location: Carnival
WHEN: Midnight 14/03
status: Closed
STYLE: Starting off in third, will match yours after.
note: will include depictions of violence, possible gore, physical and mental torment, and death. Proceed with caution.
As Gamzee pocketed his SFC, a screech ripped through the night. He glanced up, impassively, to the young woman who stood at the end of the alleyway. Her eyes were wide as she screamed, but she was too petrified to move. A sharp grin suddenly cut over Gamzee's face and a weapon was within his hand in a second -- a lance this time -- advancing on her.
The screaming stopped with a sudden, sickening gurgle.
This body was not left behind however. Instead, he grabbed it, dragging it behind him as he moved to the carnival. In his wake, he left a red smear on the pavement and sharply smiling clown faces doodled on the walls amongst his bloody hand prints.
Finally, all the toxic effects of the slime had vanished from his body. Finally he-- THEY knew who they were and what they had to do. What they should've done all along. Finally there was nothing getting in the way anymore, no slime, no hole in his head, no fog, no idiot.
He dropped the body just outside the carnival quadrant without any concern. Its purpose had run out, its blood run dry. It hadn't even been the right shade of red.
Soon all the right shades would drip from his fingers. Soon.
The attendant at the ticket booth got no farther than "ticket pl-" before his club cracked her skull. Fucking gutterbloods. Getting all their fucking filth over his clubs. It was no matter. Soon he'd wash them clean in something slightly more deserving.
He giggled, then laughed as if this was just one huge private joke to him -- them. Maybe it was. Maybe everything had been a joke all along.
Now all they had to do was wait for the motherfucking punchline to arrive.
[ooc: Apart from the pesterlogs, you guys can have the first tag in the threads. If anything is unclear, you can always nudge me over aim/plurk/pm/smoke signals.]
location: Carnival
WHEN: Midnight 14/03
status: Closed
STYLE: Starting off in third, will match yours after.
note: will include depictions of violence, possible gore, physical and mental torment, and death. Proceed with caution.
As Gamzee pocketed his SFC, a screech ripped through the night. He glanced up, impassively, to the young woman who stood at the end of the alleyway. Her eyes were wide as she screamed, but she was too petrified to move. A sharp grin suddenly cut over Gamzee's face and a weapon was within his hand in a second -- a lance this time -- advancing on her.
The screaming stopped with a sudden, sickening gurgle.
This body was not left behind however. Instead, he grabbed it, dragging it behind him as he moved to the carnival. In his wake, he left a red smear on the pavement and sharply smiling clown faces doodled on the walls amongst his bloody hand prints.
Finally, all the toxic effects of the slime had vanished from his body. Finally he-- THEY knew who they were and what they had to do. What they should've done all along. Finally there was nothing getting in the way anymore, no slime, no hole in his head, no fog, no idiot.
He dropped the body just outside the carnival quadrant without any concern. Its purpose had run out, its blood run dry. It hadn't even been the right shade of red.
Soon all the right shades would drip from his fingers. Soon.
The attendant at the ticket booth got no farther than "ticket pl-" before his club cracked her skull. Fucking gutterbloods. Getting all their fucking filth over his clubs. It was no matter. Soon he'd wash them clean in something slightly more deserving.
He giggled, then laughed as if this was just one huge private joke to him -- them. Maybe it was. Maybe everything had been a joke all along.
Now all they had to do was wait for the motherfucking punchline to arrive.
[ooc: Apart from the pesterlogs, you guys can have the first tag in the threads. If anything is unclear, you can always nudge me over aim/plurk/pm/smoke signals.]