You see a dust cloud streaking across a road running across the horizon. As it grows closer, a familiar black hearted impala roars towards you. You hear the throbbing beat coming from the car and the words that seem to be born from it:
MAKING FRIENDS ALL ACROSS AMERICA! NO SUITS TO WEAR ON SUNDAY! FLUSH YOUR RUBBER DUCKS DOWN THE DRAIN! RATS TAP DANCE INSIDE MY BRAIN!
The car pulls up nearby and Roadkill Charlie steps out. He spits in the dirt and you notice one of his eyes is swollen and black. The flaming heart on the back of his jacket ripples with his movement until it almost looks like it's beating. "How's life treating you, Iago?"
*Goooooooooooooood morning, my lovely creatures! How art thou today?*
The Masquerade Fair, after days of preparations and expansions, has finally opened to the public. People in Balios visit the fairgrounds out of a mixture of curiosity and eagerness, the bright lights and music and almost intoxicating smell of caramel and barbequed meats drawing visitors in like wandering ants to a sugar cube. Some of the more confident or thrill-seeking visitors attempt the various attractions dotted amidst the rides and food stands- haunted houses, mirror mazes and the like- only to reemerge trembling and muttering to themselves of the horrors within.
The Architect is frolicking around the fairgrounds, overjoyed at her project's success so far. Her disguise's usual form-obscuring attire has been swapped out for an deep emerald tailcoat with gold trim over a grey undershirt, with matching pants, a matching sunhat decorated with hanging translucent beads around its rim, and black-and-gold shoes with a slight heel. Cheap plastic masks of various simple yet unnerving designs are sold in the fair, so hers doesn't seem that out of place. Most of the visitors give her a wide berth, unnerved by her mere presence alone.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
You see a dust cloud streaking across a road running across the horizon. As it grows closer, a familiar black hearted impala roars towards you. You hear the throbbing beat coming from the car and the words that seem to be born from it:
MAKING FRIENDS ALL ACROSS AMERICA! NO SUITS TO WEAR ON SUNDAY! FLUSH YOUR RUBBER DUCKS DOWN THE DRAIN! RATS TAP DANCE INSIDE MY BRAIN!
The car pulls up nearby and Roadkill Charlie steps out. He spits in the dirt and you notice one of his eyes is swollen and black. The flaming heart on the back of his jacket ripples with his movement until it almost looks like it's beating. "How's life treating you, Iago?"
'A little rough, but nothing I cannot withstand. How about you?'
*Goooooooooooooood morning, my lovely creatures! How art thou today?*
The Masquerade Fair, after days of preparations and expansions, has finally opened to the public. People in Balios visit the fairgrounds out of a mixture of curiosity and eagerness, the bright lights and music and almost intoxicating smell of caramel and barbequed meats drawing visitors in like wandering ants to a sugar cube. Some of the more confident or thrill-seeking visitors attempt the various attractions dotted amidst the rides and food stands- haunted houses, mirror mazes and the like- only to reemerge trembling and muttering to themselves of the horrors within.
The Architect is frolicking around the fairgrounds, overjoyed at her project's success so far. Her disguise's usual form-obscuring attire has been swapped out for an deep emerald tailcoat with gold trim over a grey undershirt, with matching pants, a matching sunhat decorated with hanging translucent beads around its rim, and black-and-gold shoes with a slight heel. Cheap plastic masks of various simple yet unnerving designs are sold in the fair, so hers doesn't seem that out of place. Most of the visitors give her a wide berth, unnerved by her mere presence alone.
*Goooooooooooooood morning, my lovely creatures! How art thou today?*
The Masquerade Fair, after days of preparations and expansions, has finally opened to the public. People in Balios visit the fairgrounds out of a mixture of curiosity and eagerness, the bright lights and music and almost intoxicating smell of caramel and barbequed meats drawing visitors in like wandering ants to a sugar cube. Some of the more confident or thrill-seeking visitors attempt the various attractions dotted amidst the rides and food stands- haunted houses, mirror mazes and the like- only to reemerge trembling and muttering to themselves of the horrors within.
The Architect is frolicking around the fairgrounds, overjoyed at her project's success so far. Her disguise's usual form-obscuring attire has been swapped out for an deep emerald tailcoat with gold trim over a grey undershirt, with matching pants, a matching sunhat decorated with hanging translucent beads around its rim, and black-and-gold shoes with a slight heel. Cheap plastic masks of various simple yet unnerving designs are sold in the fair, so hers doesn't seem that out of place. Most of the visitors give her a wide berth, unnerved by her mere presence alone.
*Hello Yvonne, I am alive, and you?*
Dib has come back to the fair, he's looking the same as he usually does, as if he wardrobe consists purely of the same outfit. He doesn't enter, watching the Architect with his sharp eyes from the entrance, with curiosity, possibly, but who would be able to tell with his sunglasses and strange eyes.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
*Goooooooooooooood morning, my lovely creatures! How art thou today?*
The Masquerade Fair, after days of preparations and expansions, has finally opened to the public. People in Balios visit the fairgrounds out of a mixture of curiosity and eagerness, the bright lights and music and almost intoxicating smell of caramel and barbequed meats drawing visitors in like wandering ants to a sugar cube. Some of the more confident or thrill-seeking visitors attempt the various attractions dotted amidst the rides and food stands- haunted houses, mirror mazes and the like- only to reemerge trembling and muttering to themselves of the horrors within.
The Architect is frolicking around the fairgrounds, overjoyed at her project's success so far. Her disguise's usual form-obscuring attire has been swapped out for an deep emerald tailcoat with gold trim over a grey undershirt, with matching pants, a matching sunhat decorated with hanging translucent beads around its rim, and black-and-gold shoes with a slight heel. Cheap plastic masks of various simple yet unnerving designs are sold in the fair, so hers doesn't seem that out of place. Most of the visitors give her a wide berth, unnerved by her mere presence alone.
*Hello Yvonne, I am alive, and you?*
Dib has come back to the fair, he's looking the same as he usually does, as if he wardrobe consists purely of the same outfit. He doesn't enter, watching the Architect with his sharp eyes from the entrance, with curiosity, possibly, but who would be able to tell with his sunglasses and strange eyes.
*Goooooooooooooood morning, my lovely creatures! How art thou today?*
The Masquerade Fair, after days of preparations and expansions, has finally opened to the public. People in Balios visit the fairgrounds out of a mixture of curiosity and eagerness, the bright lights and music and almost intoxicating smell of caramel and barbequed meats drawing visitors in like wandering ants to a sugar cube. Some of the more confident or thrill-seeking visitors attempt the various attractions dotted amidst the rides and food stands- haunted houses, mirror mazes and the like- only to reemerge trembling and muttering to themselves of the horrors within.
The Architect is frolicking around the fairgrounds, overjoyed at her project's success so far. Her disguise's usual form-obscuring attire has been swapped out for an deep emerald tailcoat with gold trim over a grey undershirt, with matching pants, a matching sunhat decorated with hanging translucent beads around its rim, and black-and-gold shoes with a slight heel. Cheap plastic masks of various simple yet unnerving designs are sold in the fair, so hers doesn't seem that out of place. Most of the visitors give her a wide berth, unnerved by her mere presence alone.
*Hello Yvonne, I am alive, and you?*
Dib has come back to the fair, he's looking the same as he usually does, as if he wardrobe consists purely of the same outfit. He doesn't enter, watching the Architect with his sharp eyes from the entrance, with curiosity, possibly, but who would be able to tell with his sunglasses and strange eyes.
*Hello, Jester! I both exist and don't exist at the same time- which is to say, I'm doing alright.*
Her wanderings lead her behind one of the small buildings and out of sight. And then, she's standing right next to him- as if she was always there. "Hello again." She says to him, not turning to face him, her mask's painted eyes looking out at the fairgrounds. "Wonderful, isn't it?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Hello, Jester! I both exist and don't exist at the same time- which is to say, I'm doing alright.*
Her wanderings lead her behind one of the small buildings and out of sight. And then, she's standing right next to him- as if she was always there. "Hello again." She says to him, not turning to face him, her mask's painted eyes looking out at the fairgrounds. "Wonderful, isn't it?"
*Better than bad, good enough to hear.*
"Better than the domain of one of the other Nightmare Lords I've met, though I don't think it beats the cat cafe, second out of three, not bad." He says with a tiny laugh, looking up to them so they can't see his eyes.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
*I might be here if anyone wants to rp, might leave all of a sudden though.*
Quinn is resting in the town square, doodling something in a notebook
Iago is out by the edges of town
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
You see a dust cloud streaking across a road running across the horizon. As it grows closer, a familiar black hearted impala roars towards you. You hear the throbbing beat coming from the car and the words that seem to be born from it:
MAKING FRIENDS ALL ACROSS AMERICA! NO SUITS TO WEAR ON SUNDAY! FLUSH YOUR RUBBER DUCKS DOWN THE DRAIN! RATS TAP DANCE INSIDE MY BRAIN!
The car pulls up nearby and Roadkill Charlie steps out. He spits in the dirt and you notice one of his eyes is swollen and black. The flaming heart on the back of his jacket ripples with his movement until it almost looks like it's beating. "How's life treating you, Iago?"
*Goooooooooooooood morning, my lovely creatures! How art thou today?*
The Masquerade Fair, after days of preparations and expansions, has finally opened to the public. People in Balios visit the fairgrounds out of a mixture of curiosity and eagerness, the bright lights and music and almost intoxicating smell of caramel and barbequed meats drawing visitors in like wandering ants to a sugar cube. Some of the more confident or thrill-seeking visitors attempt the various attractions dotted amidst the rides and food stands- haunted houses, mirror mazes and the like- only to reemerge trembling and muttering to themselves of the horrors within.
The Architect is frolicking around the fairgrounds, overjoyed at her project's success so far. Her disguise's usual form-obscuring attire has been swapped out for an deep emerald tailcoat with gold trim over a grey undershirt, with matching pants, a matching sunhat decorated with hanging translucent beads around its rim, and black-and-gold shoes with a slight heel. Cheap plastic masks of various simple yet unnerving designs are sold in the fair, so hers doesn't seem that out of place. Most of the visitors give her a wide berth, unnerved by her mere presence alone.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
'A little rough, but nothing I cannot withstand. How about you?'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
Quinn, seeing the fair, approaches
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
*Hello Yvonne, I am alive, and you?*
Dib has come back to the fair, he's looking the same as he usually does, as if he wardrobe consists purely of the same outfit. He doesn't enter, watching the Architect with his sharp eyes from the entrance, with curiosity, possibly, but who would be able to tell with his sunglasses and strange eyes.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
'Ah, hey there. Nice to see you here, Dib'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
He looks over to see who's talking to him, adjusting his hair, which doesn't change in the slightest.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
Quinn is there, looking over the funfair stalls
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
"Oh hey Quinn. You should go." He says calmly, getting ready to walk inside.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
*Hello, Jester! I both exist and don't exist at the same time- which is to say, I'm doing alright.*
Her wanderings lead her behind one of the small buildings and out of sight. And then, she's standing right next to him- as if she was always there. "Hello again." She says to him, not turning to face him, her mask's painted eyes looking out at the fairgrounds. "Wonderful, isn't it?"
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
'Something the matter?'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
*Better than bad, good enough to hear.*
"Better than the domain of one of the other Nightmare Lords I've met, though I don't think it beats the cat cafe, second out of three, not bad." He says with a tiny laugh, looking up to them so they can't see his eyes.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
"You should go, there is stuff here that will kill you."
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
'Isn't that the same everywhere?'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
"You don't understand. There is a Nightmare Lord here, and you are a likely target. You should go."
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
Quinn takes the advice, and goes
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!
He watches them go, sending his metallic cat to follow after them.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
Quinn spots the cat. 'Hey there, little guy'
🍅 PM me the word 'tomato' 🍅 Extended Signature Musk Sucks, Quit X!