Astarael42

The Dark Carnival

Xun can confirm but I believe Baba captured the soul of the child. In general though it sounds interesting.

The Dark Carnival

Vol felt better after he cleared his mind. Morality could be dealt with later. Sometime in the future; he preferred to live in the Now as many of his animals did. With a pleasant laugh as the last chicken head was greedily devoured by the wolverines, he turned and headed back. The animals frolicked, that was really what it looked like, behind him reveling in the cold—entertained, full, and content.

Vol hoped that their next stop wouldn’t be colder than a witch’s teat, however his animals would hate it. This was as close to their homelands as they had been in awhile. Vol could summon the animals when needed but he preferred to keep them near, it allowed him to build…well not a rapport but at least a grudging acceptance. In some of the hotter places they had been however he had broken down and returned them home, summoning them only when he needed them. They were so lethargic and listless in the heat.

As he walked he began to whistle again, his good mood returning. He was full at least and that was good. They would be done here soon. That too was good.

He stopped when he saw Violet through her tent flap, she was sitting on the ground and almost but not quite giggling. And as usual she was 80% naked.

He frowned as he stopped near her on the other side of the tent entrance, the wolverines wandering inside to give her a cursory sniff before heading off to explore in their loping gaite. Vol leaned easily on his cane, and raised an elegant eyebrow.

“Aren’t you freezing Miss Violet” he said. He himself was dressed in both vest and tail coat and while he wasn’t freezing he wasn’t particularly comfortable either. “In this, well I don’t have an appropriate expletive at the moment, town I’m surprised you don’t freeze in place.”

The Dark Carnival

@casterlyrock. A belated thank-you so much for your dig at PETA. It made my day.

The Dark Carnival

Vol didn’t go back to his tent, he didn’t wish to sully the memories of the time he had spent there. Each lover, at the time he was making love to them, was the most important person in the world, after himself naturally. When their souls fed his other hunger afterward their importance remained, after all they had given him what he needed to survive. He treasured the memories for hours afterward, just as he treasured his memories of Aldrei.

No one ever believed it of him. He was crude and forthright and made no bones about his nature, inclinations, or desires. People did not like that. He didn’t care. He wasn’t an evil person, at least he had never considered himself so. He was shallow, self centereed, callous, and coldly selfish. Not evil.

He didn’t even consider his first kill of the day to be evil; the woman had treated her son in a manner no woman should ever treat their own child. He had given the boy a chance to become whatever he wanted and had taught him the value of self-reliance. He did not consider that evil.

He was pretty sure that what he had aided Baba in today had pushed him over that edge. He also knew he would do it again and feel no more regrets then as he did now. He could now claim that title of “evil” though the definition of evil tended to be illusive. On one hand the setup had been so dark and unnatural that one couldn’t help but call it evil. On the other only three people died, and they fed two. Normally he himself consumed half a dozen all by himself. So was it evil or not?

Vol didn’t like trying to define morality; thus this question bothered him. He didn’t like thinking on it but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He needed a distraction.

Vol picked up a bucket of chicken heads that had been laid out near the animal quarters and called the wolverines. He found an empty space, this meloncholy mood didn't suit him and he didn't wish to run into anyone else while he was brooding. He whiled away the remaining time playing “fetch” with the wolverines He tossed a chicken head, they raced after it, bringing it back or gobbling it up as they felt so inclined at the moment. No one ever tried to define the morality of a wolverine, they simply were as their natures made them. He had once lumped himself in the same category.

Rites of Passage

Only three. And a very select three.

It also happens to be in a place that only brisa is at that moment.

Rites of Passage

“Them?” questioned Brisa startled by Thovren’s insistance. “What them? No one saw what happened. We don’t know it was a person or people. All we know is that everyone is gone. They could have been flown away on the backs of giant purple flying frogs for all we know.”

She was really irritated but it did no good. The boy had lectured her then left, leaving her to retort to hang in empty air before she even got to harp on him for bursting into someone else’s house and leveling a crossbow at people.

Dakin was next out of the house, he was in a hurry too but at least he looked a little more focused. He headed off immediately after Thovren. Brisa caught Dakin’s words as he jogged to catch up with Thovren.

“Good point” she muttered. Once again to empty air. “I doubt trouble would announce itself.”

She shoulder her bag, which was heavy for her, she had no idea how much heavier it would get over the day, and was going to follow the two boys. The way Thovren had bossed her around didn’t set well with the stubborn girl; Autry was the only person who could boss her around without making her feel resentful. Resentment, and thinking of Autry, changed her mind.

She would explore the city like she had planned and leave the boys to threaten the unknown person.

She headed into town and she didn’t know why but the first place she decided to go was Aheric’s house. It was the best house in town, and if anyone survived they would likely have holed up there. Plus it was one of the few buildings with a second story, she could get a good look around the village from inside the house.

She walked through the silent town shivering. It was far to eerie. As she rounded a corner however she no longer noticed the eeriness. In fact she noticed nothing, almost nothing anyway, around her. All her attention was riveted on the front of Aheric’s house.

Pinned to his walls, like one might pin a insect specimin to a card, were three people. Autry, Aheric, and Dorn. Autry and Dorn were pinned to either side of the door, Aheric above. It was horrid and Brisa stood silent, still, blinking trying to wrap her mind around it.

She dropped the bag she had been carrying with an audible thud. Somehow she made herself walk forward, eyes focused on Autry’s face. The woman was dead, Brisa was pretty sure of that. Still she was inexorably drawn forward till she was inches from the woman. Autry was pale, so pale she was almost blue. Brisa knew she had to be dead.

“Autry?” she whispered, her voice horse.

Naturally Autry didn’t answer. Brisa reached out a finger and touched the dead woman. Her finger pushed into Autry’s body, it was a very unpleasant tactile sensation, like sticking your fingers in moldy pudding (which Brisa had done more than once).

She didn’t shriek, she didn’t call out, she didn’t even cry. She did, however, run to the side of the house and vomit. Over and over, small body heaving with each retch.

“No” she whispered between heaves. “No.”

When her stomach was empty she continued to dry heave for some time, until she was able to calm down. She was shaking from exhaustion, her limbs wobbly as she stood. All she could think however was Who did this? and more primal thoughts that centered only around making whoever it was pay.

She wiped her mouth off on the sleeve of her shirt and returned. She saw something she hadn’t seen before. On lintel of the door there was writing in black ink, at least she thought it was ink but it was darker than any of the ink she had ever used. The words were in a language she had never seen and as she struggled to pronounce them they sounded so foreign. She thought it had to be important though, a clue of some sort. She grabbed her bag, pulled out a blank piece of paper and a charcoal stub and carefully began copying the words onto the paper. Maybe she could find someone to translate them.

She was soon absorbed in her work, it wasn’t that the words were difficult to copy, but her paper was small and she wanted to write perfectly and neatly so she could study it later. She didn’t even notice that the dead bodies had little blood, and not even the glimmer of a shadow.

The Dark Carnival

Vol wandered the carnival grounds, casual and relaxed but he was in essence hunting. He knew what sort of people Baba was looking for, though he hadn’t done anything along the lines of what was now planned. It had been so addicting however, and he wanted more.

He spotted a very fine family, young enough to be still in that state of pure adoration of one another. For most folk that vanished when the child was about ten. The happy little girl they had with them looked to be around seven. Perfect. He glanced briefly over his shoulder, but saw no indication of Baba. She had eyes and ears most places however, he had no doubt she knew which family he had selected.

Stilling his mind Vol lifted the brim of his hat to reveal his charming hazel eyes. He schooled his face into one of his trademark disarming smiles and approached the family.

“Welcome, Welcome” he said as he approached, his voice suave and debonair. “I truly hope you are enjoying yourselves.” His easy going manner and charming speech encouraged them to stay and talk awhile.

He learned they were, as he suspected, truly devoted to one another and husband and wife very much in love. That would make this harder, but so much more worthwhile. Even despite their claims of devotion to one another he caught the woman making eyes at him. It wasn’t the woman he wanted though, oh she was decent enough but the young man was dashingly handsome, lean and muscled and just the thing that Vol had been looking for. He spent the last remaining hour before his show wooing his chosen family. A casual touch here, a glance there, it was no one thing but he fanned a flame of sexual tension with each action.

********

Vol’s act began in darkness, the tent silent except for a few hushed whispers and shifting of bodies. He stood, deep in the shadows, waiting for the tension in the place to get to the perfect point.

In that moment, just before the tension built to a peak, a single spotlight landed among the crowd, near the exit. A wolverine, brushed till he shone, snarling and growling appeared. Short, dense, and squat-- one might mistake the small animal as not very dangerous. A single look in their eyes would prove otherwise. The creature loped in its peculiar manner down the aisle, snarling and snapping at the crowd the whole time.

Vol remained hidden as it wandered into the center ring and stood there, snuffling and grunting. A second and third wolverine did the same, down different aisles, and still Vol remained hidden.

The final two however reacted different. Loosed into the audience they were in a frenzy of viciousness. Snarling they charged, their odd ferret-like gate propelling them quickly down the aisle towards a very beautiful young woman.

She screamed, a high pitched scream of false terror, but before the audience could react to that Vol leaped from a nearby platform upon which he had been waiting. Spotlight upon him now, he performed an acrobatic leap and landed him in front of the woman. Brandishing his cane he flourished it at the creatures in swirls and jabs.

“Begone beasts” he exclaimed, his voice deep and trained to fill the tent. The wolverines halted in mind bounce and snarling and hissing viciously began to back up. Vol drove them to the center of the ring where they joined the other three.

Then he turned and faced the audience. He smiled directly at the family, sitting in the front row eyes wide as they watched. He winked quickly at the young father and went on with his act.

“Ladies and gentlemen welcome” he said. “Please extend a warm welcome to my lovely assistant”—here he gestured to the woman who had screamed. She bowed to applause and exited. He waited until the applause had died before speaking again.

“Let the show begin!”

It was full of the usual tricks, modified to accommodate the different physique of the animals he worked with. They were dexterous and swift and obligingly hissed and snarled at all the appropriate points. They leaped through hoops, ran along fences, drug huge weights across the ground, and even played a child’s piano.

Finally he lined them up once more in the center of the arena, and allowed a hush to come once more.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, it is vital you remain quiet and still through this next part. These creatures are wild, and among the most vicious in the world. I command them, train them…but I would never tame them. Keep that in mind as I bring them around so you can get a close look at one of the rarest creatures in nature.”

He lifted his cane and the wolverines obediently began walking slowly down the isles, along the front and down isles to the exits. People stood, craned their necks, whatever they could to get a better look. One stopped directly in front of Vol’s special guests. The father looked up, his eyes meeting Vol’s once the animal had moved on. Vol gave an imperceptible nod and returned to his job.

The wolverines returned to the ring, quiet and almost innocent looking after walking so politely among the crowd.

“Now then” said Vol in the silence that followed. “They are beautiful, graceful animals but less you think they are not really as vicious as they seem I present—my final act. If you are easily shocked please turn away but rest assured that no animals will be harmed in this act.”

Vol “drove” the wolverines to the edges and another helper walked a huge tiger into the tent. The animal was huge, Vol could almost ride it like a horse had he wished. Glossy and sleek the animal moved like a true predator, watching all with a gaze that unnerved most folk.

The assistant led it to the center ring and left. Vol rapped his cane on the ground and the tiger roared, the sound filling the tent. He did it again and the creature roared louder.

“King of the jungle” said Vol in his showman’s voice “This great animal bows to no one, yields ground for no creature for he is truly the strongest in the land. Usually.”

The assistant who had led in the tiger brought in covered, wheeled cart. The few drops of blood trailing behind it let everyone know exactly what was in it.

Vol took the cart and dumped it in front of the tiger. The half a side of beef hit the ground with a huge thud and the tiger growled, a purling noise that seemed to reverberate from the air around and not just the tiger.

Vol jumped back, leaping lightly to the edge of the ring as the tiger began to rip into the meat. It had time to take only one bite before the wolverines charged. The “fight” was mostly a thing of show. Vol controlled it carefully to keep the animals from damaging one another. It was, however, very fierce and the sounds of snarls and roars filled the tent. It was over in less than 30 seconds. The tiger backed off, joining Vol who rested a hand on the beasts head. The wolverines settled down to eat, despite already having one good meal today.

A “privacy tent” dropped from the ceiling and skilled assistants snuck in and replaced the side of beef with a fairly stripped version.

The tent lifted and Vol turned and gestured.

“Piranhas have nothing on these animals” he said with a laugh. “And no animal trainer in the world, save for yours truly, dares work with such animals. You’ll never see another show like it folks! I promise you that.”

Then he, the tiger, and all five wolverines bowed to the crowd and the tent went dark. The cue the show was over. When the lights came on again Vol, the animals, and the remains of the cow were all gone. Only a little blood on the ground marked where the tableau had occurred.

***
The crowd filed out of the tent, talking amongst themselves. Vol, having taken a back exit, waited quietly in a shadow. He was planning his next move as he waited. When his guests exited the tent, near the end as they had been in the front row, he pushed himself off the wall and sauntered over, all charm and smiles. He had the rest of the day to spend with them. He intended to make the most of it, plus his work for Baba was not yet done.

“I trust you enjoyed the show?”

The Dark Carnival

(co-post with Xunzar & myself)

Vol’s imagination was working overtime at the moment. He was mentally crafting a special show, something that would combine both his talents and the talents of the two clowns, particularly Kodama. He didn't want to disturb their work however, they looked to be having fun. He would see later if they were interested at all in his idea.

He tipped his hat to them and winked at Chance before drifting back into the crowd. He was in a good mood. Today was a good day, he hadn’t thought it would be, but the bitter-sweetness of the whore’s soul had changed his outlook. It was, well, like fine dark chocolate; euphoric and addictive.- Perhaps something equally as delightful would come his way.

Whistling a tune he twirled his cane as he walked. It was easy to spot the figure of Mortimer leaving Baba’s booth. The man stood a good three heads taller than most of the carnival goers.

He frowned wondering just what Hags watchdog had been doing there. He wasn’t friends with Baba, he wasn’t friends with anyone. She could, however, be very very interesting. So, still whistling his merry tune, he made his way over to find out what he could.

“Afternoon Baba” he said slipping into her tent. His voice was cheerful and charming and still somehow uniquely Vol. “A delightful one it is too considering we are in a piss-hole of a town in the middle of butt fucking nowhere.”

If she were less beautiful, Baba's response would have been called a snort. As it was, she responded to Vol's language with a sound of abrupt amusement with hints of disdain. She'd just seen Mortimer leave and now Vol showed up. Of the two, Vol annoyed her more. The man was petty and sadistic, with a degree of perversion she had rarely encountered despite her significant age. On the other hand, Vol was charming as much as he was slimy and certainly more personable than Mortimer and Shadow much of the time. Besides, he might have something interesting in mind.

"It is indeed afternoon, young Vol," replied the fortune teller. "I do not know if I would go as far as saying it is actually delightful, though. I, personally, am quite displeased to have returned to the lands of my youth." She didn't add that they were the lands of her middle and old age for the most part as well. "Cold and dull. I might not be as crude in my phrasing, but you have described this town perfectly."

There was a flare of light as one of the empty mirrors on her cowl filled. "Ah there we are. The woman I sold the fertility charm to in that last town finally got around to killing herself. In wonder what misfortune could have possibly befallen her, that she would take her own life." Her smile was cold and cruel. "How tragic."

“Perhaps I should have said delightful for me. I gave one of your “thin and worn” women a try. Her 6 year old son strangled her—it was as enjoyable as fucking her would have been. In fact probably more so as I didn’t have to smell her this way.”

“Her soul, in the moment she died” he closed his eyes savoring it and searching for words. “Remember when we were in that small village somewhere in Arabia, the place with sand in everything, even our butt cracks? It reminded me of the coffee we had there. Dark, bitter, and addicting.”

His smile was almost genuine as he reflected on bittersweet coffee and bittersweet souls. He inhaled deeply and looked at Baba.

“You’re the expert on flavoring souls; and I want more. They have so much more substance than just simple feeding. So much more elegant.”

He blinked and licked his lips.

“And I do love elegant.”

Baba sighed. "Vulgar as ever, Vol." Her tone was mildly annoyed, but for the most part, she couldn't be bothered to be bothered by Vol any more. The man was crass for its own sake as much as anything else and she had no interest in satisfying his desire to disgust others. Besides, he'd begun to repeat himself recently. "You let the son go? Or did you have a double meal, you greedy hedonist?"

She raised an eyebrow hidden by her garments and chuckled. "I remember the stuff. Bitter in a sort of pleasant way, yes."

"I have had some ideas recently. Beyond the mere usual stuff." She waved a dismissive hand at her mirrored garb. "I have these yes, and some of them have been flavored with quite elegant pains, but I've had something in mind that may yet make use of your more . . . carnal talents." Her smile was more shark-like than kind. "Tell me, young Vol, do you know much about the Greeks?"

Vol couldn’t be bothered by Baba anymore than she could be bothered by him. He didn’t care enough to be bothered. But he did need her help, or at least her advice.

“Why not let the son go?” he asked simply.

“He was young, had just killed his mother solely for his own gain, and now has discovered just what life can offer him. If he survives he will likely be an interesting person. Besides it was part of the deal.”

Vol honored deals. Always. He would seek ways around them, naturally, but he also upheld whatever pact he made. Even to the extent of his own slavery, something that harmed the only thing he held dear. He had the self control to do it too, despite his hunger. He’d never allowed himself so much as an impure thought about a carnival member, well maybe one or two but for Vol that might as well have been none at all.

“The Greeks? Sure. They were a fairly impressive people at one time. They lived hard, fought hard, loved hard, and died hard. Stories of their lives are told in play houses even now. I saw one in London once. Pretty wild stuff. If you translated it into common speak activists would undoubtedly shut you down.”

"Say no more. Deals are deals." She tried to avoid making any that she would have to keep, but she was a creature of not only habit but certain rules. There were ancient rules that applied to her and it meant that she wasn't allowed to lie or break deals. She could, and would, mislead someone without a moment's hesitation, letting ignorance and cupidity do the rest for her, but lies were to be avoided and deals had to be kept. "I suppose he might be interesting in a few years' time. Especially if you've gotten his head as messed up as that Moravian thinks he will be."

"Yes, the Greeks. A couple of stories have been on my mind recently. Ones that would make for some interesting flavorings for souls. But they are more complex than a simple compulsion would manage. I suppose it could be done, but free will is so much better for this particular plan." She revealed two rows of perfectly formed teeth in what must be a smile, since her lips moved properly. "Medea, Tantalus, Oedipus." She smiled genuinely for a moment. "Such a nice lass, that one was. Actually, she was always a nasty, nasty wench. And then Jason went and got her mad. Need I explain, or can you see my meanings already, young Vol?"

Vol stroked a thumb across his lips as he contemplated the implications. They almost disturbed him. Baba was far more experienced than he, however. Sometimes he wondered just how much more experienced. There were a few things those folk had in common, and their storie were...dark and tragic. He had a glimmering of an idea but he had no idea how they would pull the whole thing off.

“Free will is my specialty” he said quietly. “I derive no pleasure from brute force. Charm and manipulations are so much more fun. I can manage it. I have a request however, a simple one. Let them be, if not beautiful, at least attractive.”

He gave a casual glance around the fairground then turned, frowning, back to Baba.

“Which does not seem to be readily available at the moment. Your Eyes are much better than mine. Perhaps you found someone who fits?”

"To tell the truth, young Vol," she murmured, "I do not. Though that should not be difficult. No doubt there must be some happy couple wandering the grounds with a lovely young one." She smiled. "There were a couple of handsome young men, but I did not see their females, so I cannot vouch for them. That said, you do have the eye for such matters." She shrugged; she had not been a carnal person before she'd made her wish and had little chance to be afterwards. "And since you must do the . . . well, I would call it work, but you so enjoy such work, I thought you might prefer to pick your own subjects. Victim just seems too cruel." She laughed outright at that.

"I was thinking a mix of Medea and Tantalus for our first act. We can save the fun of Oedipus for another time. Besides, it should be easy enough if that Freiberg lad is right, anyway." Her fingers stroked a magic sign on her cloth-covered table. "But for this we need a cook pot as well. Or maybe a place to roast something the size of a pig. And we need a happy, beautiful family. If this works near as well as I expect, we may want to do it again and age them. Let them wallow in their misery until the soul is steeped in it."

"I admit that it is far from bittersweet. But it is definitely a strong, biting flavor. If you've had chocolate, this is the closest I've found souls to reach." Her hands traced a symbol on the cloth. "I think I can come up with something bittersweet as well. But that has not been my pet project recently."

“So I’ll take the handsome man and not worry about what his woman looks like. I always liked heterosexual men anyway. They really try hard to resist and makes surrender that much sweeter.”

“I’ll let you handle the other things needed. I haven’t the faintest idea where to procure a cauldron.”

Vol pushed off from the wall where he had been leaning. He straightened and bowed to Baba.

“It has been educational Lady Baba” he said with a slim smile. “I am forced to perform soon but, I think I shall try to find a nice loving family first and instill them in the audience. Their presence will inspire my performance.”

“I would say I’d send a creature to let you know when I have found someone, but something tells me you’ll know anyway.”

[Shadowrun] Sprawl Stories

I loved Shadowrun. I'm full up on my RP front until I feel a little more settled IRL I don't want to add more but please here have a "bump" and I wish you good luck!!

Rites of Passage

The children talked until almost dawn. It was strange for Brisa; she rarely spent time with other children. Atrus didn’t count as when they spent time together it was almost always doing chores or lessons at Autry’s.

She fetched food for everyone and tried to be polite to all but in truth she was out of her depth. She really had no feeling of how to interact with others around her own age. As the talk continued she found herself drifting off to sleep. She wasn’t the only one but she was profoundly embarrassed when she realized what she had done.

She covered it up by leaving the study, making her careful way through the house to her own “work room”. Her work room was mostly a desk and books but she knew she couldn’t follow her plan without some supplies.

Autry had left her a leather satchel for carrying her books. Her spellbook, wrapped in an oil cloth, she placed carefully inside. It was her most valuable possession. She would fill the space with whatever else she thought she needed.

Unfortunately Brisa had no clue what she would need, or any understanding of the reality of what she was planning on doing. Additionally she had no real direction. That didn’t stop the stubborn girl however.

She returned to the study with the others, and settled to wait. She hadn’t realized she had dozed off again until Arguios started awake, then stood. He looked puzzled but Brisa didn’t ask him why. She was still not comfortable with the others in general, and him in particular.

She sidled out of the study, as quietly as she could, and carefully opened the front door. It was not yet dawn but it was light enough to get about.

She could hear someone yelling, in the silence it was particularly loud. Brisa jumped in excitement nearly tripping herself on her own feet.

“There’s someone else here” she shouted to the others then raced out the front door heedless of anything beyond the fact there was another living soul out there. It wasn’t Autry she knew but maybe it was help.