Post by Obscuris on Feb 9, 2016 0:19:10 GMT
(Note: As the user "Percival" isn't here anymore, i'm taking over his character so that we can get this thread going)
The insane laughter coming from inside of Mr. Fantasmagorie's Mystery Maze gradually stopped between violent hiccups and bursts of chuckles that sounded like a saw grinding on iron. Checking his smiley face on one of the mirrors, Anthony moved his long fingers a few millimeters away from his face as if he was putting on imaginary make-up. As his hands move deliriously, he spoke to the pale carcass of the poor teenager he had killed a few moments before. “I’m really excited for this performance!” He said, trying to imitate the voice of an old and arrogant actress. “You know that feel when you are about to go live?” He glanced at the corpse that was bending over on a ridiculous angle “Well, of course you don’t…” The Candyman kept a serious expression for a microsecond before bursting out in another maniacal chuckle. “Get it? Because you’re dead! HAHAHA” he made the kid roll over the mirrors with a violent kick. The corpse left a disgusting trail of blood as it slide through the floor. Anthony’s smiling face broke into a furious scream. “LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID!” his yell was so loud it seemed as if he had teared his throat “HOW DARE YOU STAIN MY PRECIOUS STAGE, YOU IMBECILE”. Caught in the violence, the pink haired mad man started kicking the dead man with a morbid pleasure and forced himself to stop. “Calm down little Tony, the show must go on” He said to himself and walked around until he was sure most of the people had escaped from the carnival. Having a small audience didn’t annoyed him. After all, the best artist are the ones that perform for small and privileged groups. With one quick glance at his macabre silhouette on the mirror, he fixed his messy and bloodstained cloths and smiled widely. “It’s showtime!”
Once on the entrance of the mirror maze, Anthony peeked out of the door for a second to see his audience. He didn’t even tried to be discreet and anyone who was paying attention could see a small pink haired head popping out of the door, which was covered by thick black curtains. Excited like a small child, Anthony contained a squeal and took a deep breathe before speaking in a deep and serious voice. “Ladies and gentlemen!” His voice reverbed across the carnival grounds “Boys and girls! Are you ready for the show? Please welcome our host: People magazine called him “The biggest pyscho of the century”, the man of the hour, the Candyman in person. Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere isssssssss… Tony!”
The curtains waved suddenly when Anthony strolled through them, humming a disonant version of "London Bridge is falling down" On his right hand he had a wooden cane, which he was spinning around quickly. He hadn’t have time to change to a more appropriate attire for the occasion, but at least he managed to fix his face. With a malevolent smile running through ear to ear and his eyes completely shut with staples, his face was a horrific clown mask straight out of a children’s nightmare.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” He exclaimed, fixing his blind sight on his strange audience. “We have a big crowd today! I was thinking that I’d find a bunch of pigs waiting for me with guns blazing, but I guess we have a really ballsy public this time! But don’t worry, the more the merrier! Now, shall we start?” Standing sideways, Anthony leaned towards his audience in such a way that it seemed he’d fall at any moment and put a hand around his ear. “Are you ready?!” He asked but silence was the only answer. Giving small taps on the ground with his pink boot, he asked again. “ARE YOU READY??” This time an enormous roar answered his question, as copies of himself appeared out of thin air all around the carnival. Some of them cheered, another booed him and a few even started fighting each other like a couple of drunks with a circle of Anthony’s around them, betting on the winner. “That’s much better!” The real Anthony grinned and took a deep breathe before raising his childish voice to an annoying level. “THEN, EVERYBODY… WELCOME TO LITTLE TONY’S WACY HORROR ADVENTURE!” He extended his arms once again and the top of the mirror maze exploded with a show of brightly colored fireworks that caught on fire some of the surrounding tents. The army of Anthony’s clones shouted, cheered, booed and howled like a violent group of hooligans as the real one bowed and receive the shouts as praise.
Some tents away, Bertuccio and Baptistin watched the ridiculous display. After a few moments, Baptistin turned to his comrade “You sure the Count needs that prick?" He asked. He was so surprised he couldn’t even think of an offensive name for his master. Bertuccio shook his head around to kill the surprise and shrugged. “We’re just here to deliver a message, we shouldn’t be questioning the Count. Come on, let’s go to the back to see if we can give that… guy the letter”.
The insane laughter coming from inside of Mr. Fantasmagorie's Mystery Maze gradually stopped between violent hiccups and bursts of chuckles that sounded like a saw grinding on iron. Checking his smiley face on one of the mirrors, Anthony moved his long fingers a few millimeters away from his face as if he was putting on imaginary make-up. As his hands move deliriously, he spoke to the pale carcass of the poor teenager he had killed a few moments before. “I’m really excited for this performance!” He said, trying to imitate the voice of an old and arrogant actress. “You know that feel when you are about to go live?” He glanced at the corpse that was bending over on a ridiculous angle “Well, of course you don’t…” The Candyman kept a serious expression for a microsecond before bursting out in another maniacal chuckle. “Get it? Because you’re dead! HAHAHA” he made the kid roll over the mirrors with a violent kick. The corpse left a disgusting trail of blood as it slide through the floor. Anthony’s smiling face broke into a furious scream. “LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID!” his yell was so loud it seemed as if he had teared his throat “HOW DARE YOU STAIN MY PRECIOUS STAGE, YOU IMBECILE”. Caught in the violence, the pink haired mad man started kicking the dead man with a morbid pleasure and forced himself to stop. “Calm down little Tony, the show must go on” He said to himself and walked around until he was sure most of the people had escaped from the carnival. Having a small audience didn’t annoyed him. After all, the best artist are the ones that perform for small and privileged groups. With one quick glance at his macabre silhouette on the mirror, he fixed his messy and bloodstained cloths and smiled widely. “It’s showtime!”
Once on the entrance of the mirror maze, Anthony peeked out of the door for a second to see his audience. He didn’t even tried to be discreet and anyone who was paying attention could see a small pink haired head popping out of the door, which was covered by thick black curtains. Excited like a small child, Anthony contained a squeal and took a deep breathe before speaking in a deep and serious voice. “Ladies and gentlemen!” His voice reverbed across the carnival grounds “Boys and girls! Are you ready for the show? Please welcome our host: People magazine called him “The biggest pyscho of the century”, the man of the hour, the Candyman in person. Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere isssssssss… Tony!”
The curtains waved suddenly when Anthony strolled through them, humming a disonant version of "London Bridge is falling down" On his right hand he had a wooden cane, which he was spinning around quickly. He hadn’t have time to change to a more appropriate attire for the occasion, but at least he managed to fix his face. With a malevolent smile running through ear to ear and his eyes completely shut with staples, his face was a horrific clown mask straight out of a children’s nightmare.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” He exclaimed, fixing his blind sight on his strange audience. “We have a big crowd today! I was thinking that I’d find a bunch of pigs waiting for me with guns blazing, but I guess we have a really ballsy public this time! But don’t worry, the more the merrier! Now, shall we start?” Standing sideways, Anthony leaned towards his audience in such a way that it seemed he’d fall at any moment and put a hand around his ear. “Are you ready?!” He asked but silence was the only answer. Giving small taps on the ground with his pink boot, he asked again. “ARE YOU READY??” This time an enormous roar answered his question, as copies of himself appeared out of thin air all around the carnival. Some of them cheered, another booed him and a few even started fighting each other like a couple of drunks with a circle of Anthony’s around them, betting on the winner. “That’s much better!” The real Anthony grinned and took a deep breathe before raising his childish voice to an annoying level. “THEN, EVERYBODY… WELCOME TO LITTLE TONY’S WACY HORROR ADVENTURE!” He extended his arms once again and the top of the mirror maze exploded with a show of brightly colored fireworks that caught on fire some of the surrounding tents. The army of Anthony’s clones shouted, cheered, booed and howled like a violent group of hooligans as the real one bowed and receive the shouts as praise.
Some tents away, Bertuccio and Baptistin watched the ridiculous display. After a few moments, Baptistin turned to his comrade “You sure the Count needs that prick?" He asked. He was so surprised he couldn’t even think of an offensive name for his master. Bertuccio shook his head around to kill the surprise and shrugged. “We’re just here to deliver a message, we shouldn’t be questioning the Count. Come on, let’s go to the back to see if we can give that… guy the letter”.