Paradox Chapter One: The More Things Change...

Overcast · 05-15-2011, 06:51 PM

The freak show marched on, even with the odd drug addled zombie that stumbled along nearby. Riley was barely able to keep up with the organized march of the freaks, different monstrosities limping along under overenthusiastic whip cracks and the music that in his ears sounded strange and twisted.

Then something strange.

More strange than just seeing a freak show marching down. More strange then the sensation that had itched him before that his concussion had knocked right out of his head. He could have sworn he saw Fiend slithering along with the freaks. It wasn't an isolated incident, every closet freak in the crowds caught flashes out of the corner of their eyes, images of their less favorable counterparts skulking in the show. Then a voice, through loudspeaker, called out to the crowd, the speech resonating in a different tone for those special someones,

"Come one, come all to the Circus of Dreams! What images haunt us in sleeping have been sampled and taken by our ringmaster Morpheus, from the beauty of your lost subconscious, to the monsters that haunt your nightmares. Come experience a world beyond your imagining, all are welcome to the Circus of Dreams."

His voice seemed to creep to you, beyond the loudspeaker, into your head. Inviting you come, be accepted, learn the reasons for your nightmares. The speakered wagon passed on by, closed shut so no peeping eyes could see the ringmaster himself. Morpheus. But without a doubt all of you could feel it, more than any other freak here, that feeling of just what he was.

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The wait at the police station hadn't been very long. The station as a whole may have had a lot of things to worry about, but nearly everyone wanted to see this epidemic shut down. It was bad for their image, bad for their funding, and just plain bad. Corrupt cop or pure this hit you in all the wrong places. Nobody was going to slow this down for the world,

"Miss Prochainezo, Mister Sorensen, thank you for coming in today."

The centerpiece of the case at the time was the man being forced on nearly every lead they got, Detective Nearstaph, who looked just as he did the first time the two of him had seen him. If just a bit more ragged. No man in the station would want to be in his place, seeing the things he was forced to on a daily basis, or moreover trying to make sense of the mess of evidence that seemed to point to absolutely no one,

"I'm only going to be able to show you the lineup one at a time, do either of you have a preference of who would like to go first?"

((Mostly just getting my bearings in, and checking on who is still around. I figure most of the responses, short of Ifrit, will be rather easy. Follow the freak show to the big top, say you want to wait in the waiting room or hit the lineup. Start eating people. You know the routine. Just give me a little something so I know you are still alive.))

05-15-2011, 06:51 PM	#29
Overcast Cinderella Join Date: Mar 2005 Location: Trespassing in the graveyard Posts: 3,076	And then it started... The freak show marched on, even with the odd drug addled zombie that stumbled along nearby. Riley was barely able to keep up with the organized march of the freaks, different monstrosities limping along under overenthusiastic whip cracks and the music that in his ears sounded strange and twisted. Then something strange. More strange than just seeing a freak show marching down. More strange then the sensation that had itched him before that his concussion had knocked right out of his head. He could have sworn he saw Fiend slithering along with the freaks. It wasn't an isolated incident, every closet freak in the crowds caught flashes out of the corner of their eyes, images of their less favorable counterparts skulking in the show. Then a voice, through loudspeaker, called out to the crowd, the speech resonating in a different tone for those special someones, "Come one, come all to the Circus of Dreams! What images haunt us in sleeping have been sampled and taken by our ringmaster Morpheus, from the beauty of your lost subconscious, to the monsters that haunt your nightmares. Come experience a world beyond your imagining, all are welcome to the Circus of Dreams." His voice seemed to creep to you, beyond the loudspeaker, into your head. Inviting you come, be accepted, learn the reasons for your nightmares. The speakered wagon passed on by, closed shut so no peeping eyes could see the ringmaster himself. Morpheus. But without a doubt all of you could feel it, more than any other freak here, that feeling of just what he was. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The wait at the police station hadn't been very long. The station as a whole may have had a lot of things to worry about, but nearly everyone wanted to see this epidemic shut down. It was bad for their image, bad for their funding, and just plain bad. Corrupt cop or pure this hit you in all the wrong places. Nobody was going to slow this down for the world, "Miss Prochainezo, Mister Sorensen, thank you for coming in today." The centerpiece of the case at the time was the man being forced on nearly every lead they got, Detective Nearstaph, who looked just as he did the first time the two of him had seen him. If just a bit more ragged. No man in the station would want to be in his place, seeing the things he was forced to on a daily basis, or moreover trying to make sense of the mess of evidence that seemed to point to absolutely no one, "I'm only going to be able to show you the lineup one at a time, do either of you have a preference of who would like to go first?" ((Mostly just getting my bearings in, and checking on who is still around. I figure most of the responses, short of Ifrit, will be rather easy. Follow the freak show to the big top, say you want to wait in the waiting room or hit the lineup. Start eating people. You know the routine. Just give me a little something so I know you are still alive.)) __________________ Time to bust out the glow sticks!