Post by Lone Dancer on Dec 24, 2021 22:55:22 GMT
The sounds of the circus, the cheering, the crying, the laughter all intermixed into an amalgamation of noise. It was hard to pinpoint one exact one moment of what was happening in the many shows that were on display. The enticing smell of concession stand snacks wafted about in their sweet aroma. The circus was a sign of fun things to come, especially the Circus. Founded by the mysterious Ringmaster, none could compare the Circus's grandeur, magnificence, and sheer scale of size.
No one quite knew how the miniature city of massive tents and mechanical rides appeared just over night, practically blinking into sight. Yet it did, and how the fun would begin for those who bought admission tickets. (Or stole, the Circus only cared if you had a ticket or not)
It was a wonderful place, and you should be glad to work here, the Ringmaster would tell to all his employees. I give you a home, and pay you good money.
The Circus would demonstrate wondrous things, finding and showcasing the most mystical of dragons, capable of the strangest of feats. The strong, the bold, the downright odd, all had a place in the house of wack. The abandoned, the misfortuned, the almost forgotten. All accepted. None neglected.
All but merely objects for show.
***
"Come and sit, will you?" The Ringmaster's voice was hard to place, for it both drew you in and then repelled you. His claws were clasped atop the thick wooden table that separated him from the subject of his attention. The dragon in question sat down on the pillow provided, a sour face upon them.
"You know, your act has been losing engagement. Seven dragons, seven! Just upped and left during your segment. My boy, you need to spice things up, can't keep things same old same old. Oh look me in the eyes as I speak, it will do you proper."
The dragon practically forced himself to look the Ringmaster in the eyes. It only brought to further light and accented all the off things about him. A smile too wide, and with too sharp teeth, the crinkle around the eyes sinister rather than mirthful, joints bending in directions not quite normal. But it was eyes that were the dead giveaway.
It was the dead and cold eyes of the Ringmaster that stared back, weighing him. Those eyes found him wanting.
"Well, I know just the thing to improve your performance. Stay there, will you, I will be right back." The Ringmaster chuckled to himself. The dragon desperately wanted to bolt, but found themselves glued to their seat, legs unwilling to move, but not from lack of effort.
The Ringmaster came back with a foggy glass jar. Gently twisting the lid off with care, the Ringmaster pulled out a tiny wooden carving, wicked smile upon their face. The dragon squirmed further as the wooden caricature of a centipede began to writhe.
"Sometimes, you just have to make your own oddities, you know? But I am sure yours will be beautiful." The Ringmaster set down the animate carving, and it quickly skittered towards the squirming dragon who found themselves incapable of any escape.
"Oh settle down, the pain will be for but a tad moment." The Ringmaster remarked in amble manner as the wooden centipede chewed a hole through the dragon's scales, before crawling in. The dragon was unable to scream, but they soon fell completely still.
"How lovely! I do love it when a transplant is a success. Failures are always so hard to work with. Well, shoo with you, our meeting is down."
The dragon(?) stiffly walked out of the office without a look behind.
The Ringmaster rapped their claws against the table, before calling in;
"Next!"
No one quite knew how the miniature city of massive tents and mechanical rides appeared just over night, practically blinking into sight. Yet it did, and how the fun would begin for those who bought admission tickets. (Or stole, the Circus only cared if you had a ticket or not)
It was a wonderful place, and you should be glad to work here, the Ringmaster would tell to all his employees. I give you a home, and pay you good money.
The Circus would demonstrate wondrous things, finding and showcasing the most mystical of dragons, capable of the strangest of feats. The strong, the bold, the downright odd, all had a place in the house of wack. The abandoned, the misfortuned, the almost forgotten. All accepted. None neglected.
All but merely objects for show.
***
"Come and sit, will you?" The Ringmaster's voice was hard to place, for it both drew you in and then repelled you. His claws were clasped atop the thick wooden table that separated him from the subject of his attention. The dragon in question sat down on the pillow provided, a sour face upon them.
"You know, your act has been losing engagement. Seven dragons, seven! Just upped and left during your segment. My boy, you need to spice things up, can't keep things same old same old. Oh look me in the eyes as I speak, it will do you proper."
The dragon practically forced himself to look the Ringmaster in the eyes. It only brought to further light and accented all the off things about him. A smile too wide, and with too sharp teeth, the crinkle around the eyes sinister rather than mirthful, joints bending in directions not quite normal. But it was eyes that were the dead giveaway.
It was the dead and cold eyes of the Ringmaster that stared back, weighing him. Those eyes found him wanting.
"Well, I know just the thing to improve your performance. Stay there, will you, I will be right back." The Ringmaster chuckled to himself. The dragon desperately wanted to bolt, but found themselves glued to their seat, legs unwilling to move, but not from lack of effort.
The Ringmaster came back with a foggy glass jar. Gently twisting the lid off with care, the Ringmaster pulled out a tiny wooden carving, wicked smile upon their face. The dragon squirmed further as the wooden caricature of a centipede began to writhe.
"Sometimes, you just have to make your own oddities, you know? But I am sure yours will be beautiful." The Ringmaster set down the animate carving, and it quickly skittered towards the squirming dragon who found themselves incapable of any escape.
"Oh settle down, the pain will be for but a tad moment." The Ringmaster remarked in amble manner as the wooden centipede chewed a hole through the dragon's scales, before crawling in. The dragon was unable to scream, but they soon fell completely still.
"How lovely! I do love it when a transplant is a success. Failures are always so hard to work with. Well, shoo with you, our meeting is down."
The dragon(?) stiffly walked out of the office without a look behind.
The Ringmaster rapped their claws against the table, before calling in;
"Next!"