Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

G. M. Dark (illustratedman) wrote in wariscoming,

The night was alive with the hum of silent terrors, private dreams, desires and every other emotion one could contain. Hopes.. aspirations. All of it a tumbling mess that boomed along in a cacophony of noise. It was brilliant, desperate and full of despair so utterly deep as to seep into Dark's wicked bones. It was the stuff of nightmares, and the very things upon which he and his freaks fed upon, and fed well. It swirled about, leaking between tents and into the hearts, minds and very blood of the carnival and its inhabitants. It was a silent feeding though, one quietly obtained as souls struggled through their chaos to find an inner peace that may not ever exist.

But the noise was interrupted by a distinctly odd sound. Dark picked up on the shift in the air and extended his senses to find her. Ahh, the River.. the River born Cassandra of Troy. And come at last!

Dark exited the train on the tracks beside the carnival and placed his hat atop his head, flouncing across the field toward the center of the carnival to find their new guest. As always, Mr. Cresswell fell into step behind Dark, lurking in the shadows. Dark had been most eager to meet the woman, she had the most interesting insights into what Dark's carnival did. It took a minute, but Dark caught up to the girl at last.

"Good evening!" he boomed, dropping down into a waist deep bow of respect and dramatic flair. He flipped his hat off his head and thrust his arms out to the side. "Welcome to Cooger and Dark's Pandemonium Shadow Show!" he stood his full height, replaced his hat atop his head and hefted his cane. "Unfortunately, we don't open for another week, my dear. You're trespassing."