Dahlia Hawthorne — Roleplayer Guild

Estelle clutched Clarience's shoulder rather violently as she was lead out of the shop. "Contacts? Oh no no no! Contacts always irritate my eyes, plus I like my old glasses!" she whined. Those glasses were the first glasses she had ever gotten, she had them ever since she needed them, back when she was small. She liked the big lenses, even though they were the subject of teasing. "Do you think they can fix the old ones?" she tried. "I mean, I can go pick up the shards" she suggested, even when she remembered that would be next to impossible. Her eyes were a nice sea blue color, but she never really found anything special about them.

Estelle was really nervous, she didn't want to be led into some awkward place like her book signings usually went. Everything was so blurry though, the only thing she could tell was that she was outside. "Where are we?" she asked, blindly reaching her hand out just in case she might run into someone or something.

The atmosphere was dense, clouds overcastted the blue, forbidding any rays of illumination to flicker through – though all ascertained that the sun still shone here. A carnival laid awake full of splendour and excitement – it seeped out of it, reaching all. Even though the weather decided to grey itself and mourn for unknown reasons, the extravaganza would light the mortal town up that night.

A knock times three, followed by a pause, awaiting a sign of life. There existed one particular individual whom adored to drive mad the Wish Master – Andracos Soleviel.

“Mr. Seil, oh Mr. Seil – where for art thou Mr. Seil?” the theatrical voice that only belonged to Andracos reverberated around the Wish Masters bewitched cart. With his hand raised to his ear, he awaited a response.

Some feet behind Andracos stood two others, the slothful vampire named Pachid whom did very nearly close to naught, on the day to day basis and the little and rather immodest demon, Arina. Pachid supported himself upright against Arina’s cart, with his arms overlapped and one knee bent whilst Arina upheld most of her weight on one foot, with her right hip out and her hands placed on them.

“What’s he doing?” Arina’s questioned in regards to Andracos’ actions.

As her voice reached Pachid’s he smirked before responding, “I’m presuming he wants to sneak off-grounds, even though he’s penalized – probably checking to see if Seil is here or off grounds himself.”

“Home not, Mr. Seil?” they heard Andracos coo still awaiting an indication.

“He’s an idiot,” Arina stated modestly.

Pachid shrugged insensitively, he’d known Andracos far longer than Arina and thus was much more attuned to his actions than she. Andracos was unpermitted to leave the carnival grounds due to his actions of late; the rape, torture and inevitable, death of two girls from the nearby town. The passing of the two girls was not the issue at hand, for Mr. Seil received two more souls – it was the mannerism in which they were obtained. If Mr. Seil did not ground Andracos, therefore limiting him, he’d merely go on a never-ending story of violence and that was something Mr. Seil did not want trailing him or his carnival. The police force suspected Andracos, however, parallel to every other dishonest deed he committed no substantiation or evidence ever materialised – this was partway due to Andracos himself and the aid of Mr. Seil.

How Andracos managed to continually and without sweat adhere to his actions, Pachid and others for that matter could never make sense of. Andracos and his actions ran parallel to a circle; they never ended; never grew bored or tired or deemed repetitive. Simply circling he went; around and around; unlimited raping, beating, stealing, killing - though not always in that order.

It was after Arina’s remark that the indistinct sound of a ‘click’ stretched to Andracos’ hearings and swung ajar did the impressive wooden entrance of the cart. The focal point between the doors frame stood a man, lean and towering; the King of the Carnival; the Wish Master; Mr. Reficul Seil. Anytime he emerged his aura of supremacy and power penetrated the atmosphere, thus making it heavy; it belonged to him and he could amend it as he saw fit. Though there was a dissimilar sensation about the air that surrounded him, it was not threatening – it merely requested formality.

With one, gloved hand on the handle of his door and the other clasping a gold pocket watch, Mr. Seil gazed down at whom at disturbed him, though he knew even before the knock. His expression was dreary, as if he had answered the door far too many times.

“What is it Andracos?” his voice mimicked his emotional state – he spoke unhurriedly and yet gentle.

Andracos scowled at the man before him, he so desired the power Mr. Seil had and all that he owned – especially over him. Though, promptly Andracos’ demeanour changed to formality and he bowed at the sight of the Wish Master.

“I merely so desired to wish you grandest of days Sir,” his voice overemotional – he rose upright with a flashing a smile. There was a moment in which the two eyed each other – Andracos still smiling and Mr. Seil unamused. The Wish Master soon breathed in deeply before letting out a sigh, he knew Andracos far too well; he identified his game.

“Attempting to sneak of grounds Andracos?” Mr. Seil asked simply, screening no indication of surprise or fury.

The half sirens smile broadened, “indeed I am Sir,” he realized there was no misleading him, “indeed I am.”

“Hoping I myself would be off-grounds?” Mr. Seil questioned not altering his demeanour.

Andracos clicked his fingers into a point, “correct you stand Sir – though how often do you stand as the opposite?”

Mr. Seil overlooked his enquiry and tested, “how’s that working out for you?”

“My two feet wondering off-campus?” Andracos confirmed, “below par Sir,” was his answer.

Mr. Seil’s eyes rolled at Andracos – corresponding to every other enquiry Andracos made, he was wasting his time. Andracos believed one more line was necessary before he was no longer in Mr. Seil’s presence,

“You know how is it,” he smiled again and bowed, “Sir?”

A slam; the door was closed and Mr. Seil departed. Andracos silently scowled as he rose up and spun on his heel to head in the direction of his comrades – whom were snickering at his expense. Striding towards them he expressed,

“That uncouth snake! That evil fiend!”

“Now, now Andracos – that’s no way to speak of your superiors,” Arina said through sniggers.

“That horrible, slimy…”

The trio heard the ‘click’ of Mr. Seil’s door and instantaneously each of their attention diverted. Andracos spinning on his heel once more to face him altered the nature of his rant,

“Wonderful, magnificent master of wishes,” he curtsied slightly at the sight of Mr. Seil remerging with a colossal sized forged grin.

“Oh and Andracos,” Mr. Seil took naught into account in regards to Andracos slur; he ignored it and spoke in the same cheerless, however gentle, mannerism.

“If you do tiptoe off my grounds, you’ll find an extra 100,000 souls added to your contract.”

Andracos was swift to retort, “oh Sir, what is an extra 1000 souls? Or 10,000 souls? Alter my contract you do daily – it is of nil wonder or amazement. I persistently am aware not of how many souls I do owe.”

Mr. Seil raised both of his eyebrows and smirked at the reply he received, “foreseeable response,” he muttered more to himself. “Very well Andracos, please allow me to rephrase that – if you do tip toe of my grounds, I’ll morph you into a freak for no less than 1 year.”

Andracos’ grin fell as Mr. Seil mocked, “I wonder how many ladies you’d successfully woo in that form my dear boy.”

Andracos features altered to a scowl, Pachid smirk widened and Arina was holding back giggles, however her control was lost due to Mr. Seil’s final words,

“You know how is it,” he stated, mimicking the final words the siren had delivered him earlier. There was another slam and Mr. Seil was no more.

Andracos turned slowly to his comrades, whom continuously sniggered at him.

“You know how is it?” Arina mocked through a massive smile.

Andracos sharply replied, Andracos scowled, he wasn’t one for dry wit when it was directed his way.

“Cease your words harlot,” he spat sharply, “I appreciate not the dry humour.”

Pachid and Arina shared a conjoint emotion; humour. Pachid opened his mouth in order to retort however closed it at the sight of second-hand smoke rising up. The trio all altered their eyes to seek the source of the smoulder –down. There was only one whom inhaled the mortal pollution that was tobacco and that was the cynical dwarf, Mogue; the second in command. He gazed up at the trio, whom gazed down in return – even though he stood several heads shorter his presence still demanded authority. Mogue did not run parallel to Mr. Seil with intimidation as Mogue was far more light-hearted however darkly mordant and sarcastic.

“You’re like a rabid chihuahua intent on destroying your own tail,” his eyes were on Andracos and as was his insult. Andracos merely shifted his stare upwards with a roll of his eyes – fond of Sephora he was not, however knew better than to swing his cane identical to a baseball bat on him.

“A chihuahua?” Sephora voiced, “I can see that,” he nodded. Sephora nodded along with him whilst Sephora continued to suckle on his cancer stick, his eyes still scrutinizing the chihuahua.

Not looking down at him Sephora rudely inquired, “What dost little fella desire?”

“There’s a meeting this afternoon before the carnival opens,” Mogue explained speaking to all three, “At 3 o’clock - be sure to be there. Spread the word you know he doesn’t like people being late.”

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