#𝕋𝕆ℕ𝔾𝕌𝔼 𝕋𝕀𝔼𝔻 & 𝕐𝕆𝕌'ℝ𝔼 𝕋𝔼ℝℝ𝕀𝔽𝕀𝔼𝔻 / in character.

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𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃 - 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ! but it wouldn't stop him from trying to get @cre8ed in the spirit. offering her a mug of hot chocolate, he placed a candy cane dramatically in the top. hoping that it would tempt her to take a sip of the hot liquid - he had made it himself ! shouldn't that have been enough to encourage her?

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𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓, letting him know that he didn't succeed at killing them before him. it served to piss off the other killer - making him angry with him. his words came hard & fast, though they didn't phase ART. he wasn't someone who was easily angered by such things - to put it bluntly, he took most things as a joke. even murder, it was nothing more than a fun little game to him. he couldn't get pissed off at the words of his counterpart, he simply wore a sickening smile on his face, cracking up at his anger. pointing & laughing the more agitated that he got. he had his fun, and it took away from the other. it was only right that he had gotten mad about it - that didn't stop the clown from getting his laughs in.

the threat rolled off him, not meaning much to someone who could survive the worst. bringing his hands up to his cheeks, he poked his middle fingers into his dimples. what a big smile he would have. it served a second - meaning of flipping the other off - he was having good fun with him. thinking that he wouldn't actually carry through with his meaningless threats.

in his hand, a knife that looks strikingly similar to the others. mimicking a weeping face, he rubs at his eyes mockingly. he wishes to enrage the other, wanting to see him get worked up over the fact that he has stolen his kill. does he feel guilty for it? not at all, in fact he is quite prideful. while he knows that the other had been chasing after this one for some time, he'd beaten him to the punch. not - so hard when he was eager as ever.

  ﹙    𝕸.  ﹚

❝   OH.   ❞ a nonchalant yet MELODIOUS voice came out of the mask . the tone inside sounded POETIC , but flowing through the material , it verged on harshness . he was not a typical murderer . he wanted to kill , but fun was the pedestal of the whole process of sowing DESTRUCTION . the clown ? he had met many of them , but none that EXCITED him so much . his whole body trembled with emotion , and his fingers tightened on the knife . ❝ what will you do, snowflake ? ❞ he was losing control of his nerves , inconsolable that he had failed to kill another person . the momentary elation of cutting through the old woman's body was not ENOUGH . what would it taste like to kill a clown ? what would he look like during evisceration ? ❝ when i widen your smile with a knife stained with the dried blood of a previous victim ? ❞ he giggled madly , straightening his body .

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𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄 - 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 - he is making a valid attempt to get @blckfckinmsk in the christmas spirit. they might have had some blood on the one side - splattered on the rim of the glass - that didn't stop him from placing them on his face & giving his nose a little BOOP !

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"Mr. Clown man! Why must you stare at me all the time?" She boops his nose and smiles.

𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑, the only way that he could possibly display his interest in someone else - vocalization not being an option. her finger presses against the little black dot on the tip of his nose, but he doesn't fidget. not a single move away from her touch - instead, his smile gets wider. opening his eyes some more, he tilts his head at her. wanting to show that he could stare some more. before, it was just a meager gaze, but if she wanted a full - fledged stare, he could offer that to her. white - rimmed eyes stare with intensity. bringing his hand up to match her own gesture, he gives her nose the daintiest little poke. no force behind the movement, just a soft tap. enough to keep her attention on himself. always eager to have the spotlight on himself.

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𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 - only accustomed to putting paints on his own face. he was working the brushes with practiced perfection, he knows how to draw the lines from heart - he wears them every day. it's not so different when translated onto the face of another. it comes easier to him than ever could have guessed. swirling the brush on the tip of their nose, he creates a precise circular dot - black in color. he only works in monochrome, not venturing into anything colorful. their face is already done up in dramatic black & WHITE shades. once finished with his work - he pulls out a broken mirror. holding it up to them eagerly, prepared to show off his work. they are much like twins ! or perhaps, long lost siblings at best. really, the similarity is only in the style of makeup - but he finds it endearing nonetheless. gesturing to the mirror with one hand, he encourages them to take a look at his efforts.

open starter !

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𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐋 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄, making a neat job of it. he wanted to create a masterpiece; something to be proud of in the end. taking a step back, he admires his work - holding his hands up as if he were taking a photo. the ornaments had yet to make an appearance, still in the early stages of decorating. this, was his job. making sure that the glistening string was divided evenly around the circumference of the tree. he doesn't take the task lightly, making sure that it was perfect every step of the way. oh, how he loved christmas.

open starter.

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[ groom ]  your muse adjusting mine’s appearance , such as straightening a tie , fixing their hair , or buttoning their shirt for them , etc . 

𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒, unless you considered his clown makeup to be something special. it took a lot of effort to keep an appearance such as his own - & he wore it with pride. though, at the moment, he was fixated on their appearance. adjusting the top of their dress to make a curved neckline. it had been slipping some, lowering on their chest. they couldn't have that now, they were attempting to look their best. ART wouldn't allow them to look messy. no, he was their partner in crime at the moment - which meant, he had to look out for them.

hooking his index fingers underneath the neckline of the dress, he pulls it upwards. adjusting the collar to fit her best. his expression was serious in the moment, focused on the task at hand. he wouldn't give them chance to argue with him. patting the spot when he was done - assuring that it sat flush with their skin. he wasn't up on fashion; not knowing a lot about it. but he could tell when a wardrobe malfunction was about to occur. blocking the rest of the crowd with his body as his fixes the dress. he might have been skinny - but his lanky frame made a better door than a window. not allowing the others to see what he was doing in that moment. most were keen to ignore the sight - the clown someone that they wanted to stay far away from. he made for good repellent. scaring away the party goers.

once he was finished with his work, he gives them a firm thumbs up. much better now, they wouldn't been seen with their bra hanging out of the front of their dress. he was not good for much - but noticing things was a good habit of his.

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WOULD IT BE CALLED A LUNCH? perhaps, something of that sort. reaching over into their box of fries, ART dramatically plucks one from the bundle & pops it into his mouth. as if he hasn't had enough already. he seems to adore the saltiness of them, though it doesn't make up for the lack of sweets at the table. a burger sits in front of him, yet to touch it. he would soon enough, once he was done thieving the fries from his companion. they left them wide open for him to swoop in & take one, practically inviting him to them !

open starter !

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𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌. though, he hadn't expected finding someone else there - that was quite the surprise to him ! seeing @coastercrushed there, he didn't know what to think of this stranger just yet - he had an odd knack for showing up at the worst times ... just when he was reeling over in his mind how to have a fun time there. initially, he thought him to be his next victim - but there was something so odd about him. making him his victim might have been too hasty. he had much to learn from this person, thinking that he might have known the park better than he could ever. the feeling that something was off about him had deterred him from being hasty about it. wanting to figure out just what it was about this person that was giving him such a strange, uncanny feeling.

he didn't seem impressed by the horn that he had showed him, though ART thought that it was something dear to him. it was the least horrific item on his person & he wasn't exactly willing to show off his items to a stranger. they were excessively valuable to him - what if this was a thief? granted - he would chase him down & slay him if he had the gall to steal a single one of his most treasured belongings. the other seemed determined to find out what was inside of his bag, so he couldn't keep him waiting for too long. digging around with some metallic crashing sounds - he pulls out a saw. it still has some dried blood on the blade of it. that was one of many items. he had plenty to show off - but for now, he sticks with holding up the saw for his counterpart to get a good look at. after that, he might not want to see the rest of it.

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𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍, the word 'sweetheart' across the heart - shaped chest. he comes out of the kitchen ringing a tiny bell - in his hand, a plateful of food. it's for his guest. prepared all by hand, who knew that he could cook? well - one would find out if that was truly the case. setting the plate down in front of his willing company, he clasps his hands next to his chin. what a darling scene - enjoying dinner together in the comfort of . . . someone's home. he was adamant on being the cook for tonight. the table had been set ahead of time, everything prepared before his company had arrived. his knowledge of certain human customs was difficult to grasp - clearly, he knew more than he let on. the plate was balanced well, a bit of meat, potatoes & some vegetables. all of them sectioned off neatly; he had put his best effort into preparing it.

open starter.

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WHAT DID VAMPIRE BLOOD TASTE LIKE TO AN IMMORTAL? the questioning plagued him since the moment that he met @girlsurvive. twirling the hammer in his hand idly, his curiosity grows bigger by the second. shall he hit her hand & see? would she be bothered? if it was all for the sake of experimentation, perhaps she could see to forgive him. staring at her with an unclear gaze, he mulls the question over in his head. not long before he strikes her on the back of the hand with the sharp end of the hammer - aiming to shed blood.

starter call !

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𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐉𝐔𝐃𝐆𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒, one to have eaten the faces off his victims before . . . he was really not one to think oddly of others. it was much preferred that she allowed herself to be lax & act as she would if he was not there. his presence was not meant to be stressful; he had simply been looking for company, feeling a tinge of loneliness. surprising that his chest could feel such a thing, but even he had the craving for attention at times. random strangers couldn't fill the void of having someone that was accustomed to his appearance - saving the fearful act for another time.

nodding his head at her offer, he was grateful to be given a place to stay for the night. if not for her, he would be curling up in the back of his van once more. it was his only shelter from the cold winds & public eye. most didn't question the van parked in odd places - but perhaps, eventually he would make someone unhappy about his park job. being offered a warm couch & blankets was much more reassuring than having to sleep with his head against a bag of sharp objects. if he had actually slept, his body was strange like that - he didn't necessarily need the sleep, but he would get it where he could. as she assumed, he could handle himself. but it was always easier to have a partner - in - crime.

taking another slice of pizza off the tray, he had no issues allowing himself to eat more than the average person - he was quite scrawny, but he would go weeks without food. another thing that his body didn't crave, but would willingly accept. looking around the kitchen when she mentions the loneliness of the house. it is quite empty in there - not a single other soul. it worked out for him, not having to explain his presence to a figure of authority. though, it would have been maddening to stay there for a long period of time alone. suddenly, her offer to let him stay felt a little more for herself than for him. not that he minded at all. they were two lonely souls, searching for comfort in one another. / @morb1dg1rl

she decides fuck it and eats like she hasn't eaten in days,which was sort of the case,well a day but beside the point she wanted to enjoy her food. she took her time,being mindful about how much she consumed and turned her attention to art as she was finishing up her last slice.

❝ you're free to stay the night if you want to. i can make up the couch. get some nice cozy blankets. bet it's been a while since you've had a good night's rest. ❞she was genuinely concerned about art at times,but she knew he could handle himself and be okay on his own. she just worried one day he'd get caught and she'd never see him again. man,she'd miss him a lot if that were ever to happen but he's been pretty crafty evading police.

❝ feel free to finish up the pizza too. i'm stuffed. i think i ate for like,three days. ❞she laughs,waving off with a small smile on her face. she hoped he took up her offer,it'd be nice to have some sense of being safe with him around. not like anybody would break into a funeral home,but she was by herself-her folks on a vacation without her,and she'd just feel safer if he were to stay.

❝ i'm glad you popped up. i've been by myself so it's pretty lonely in this big ass house at times. i appreciate you stopping by. ❞

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𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒, no matter how little that he knew about the true backstory of them. meaning wasn't important to him, all he cared about were the festivities. getting the opportunity to give gifts on certain days . . . where it was acceptable. he was fond of it. considering that he was a gift - giver by nature; he enjoyed the look on someone's face when he surprised them with something truly unique. & oh how unique it was. in the RED, VALENTINE'S DAY BOX that he held out to them - a dripping heart, still bleeding. if looked at close enough, it may even still beat. ripped from the chest of an unsuspecting victim for his gift idea. the box was the finishing touch, the aspect that made his gift a real gift. handing it off bashfully to them, he hopes that they will enjoy his thoughtful present.

open starter.

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𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒? of course not, the two of them were currently planning their next move together - though, ART was making sure that @fragmcntdstars was covered in christmas spirit before they made their move. wrapping a thin line of battery - powered christmas lights around his neck, he gave STU a big thumbs up - looking good !

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HE HADN'T MEANT TO FRIGHTEN HER, waiting outside by @fcllederage's place of work. he was a disturbing image in the light of the moon. but he was simply waiting where he was allowed - too much chaos to be allowed inside the cabaret. he was left to the back door, sitting on the concrete with his legs criss - crossed. keeping himself occupied by playing with a little horn, he was a sight that no one would readily approach.

starter call !

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OPEN STARTER.

𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘𝐖𝐀𝐘, ART carries a boombox on his shoulders. he places it down on the ground in front of him. turning the knob for the volume, the lights spark to life on it. it starts sputtering at first, giving a few static - y sounds. nothing that resembles real music. a frustrated look crosses his face. delivering a swift kick to the front of it, it jostles the machine to a different frequency. the soft lull of opera music starts to play from it, not his preference; though, it beats the mess of mushed words coming from it before. listening to the sounds, he lifts his head & raises his arms. mimicking that of a conductor; quite the sight to those who come across him. his tastes had always been odd. he didn't mind the melodic rhythm of the song currently playing, something to vibe with for a little while. he only had the boombox for a short period of time & this was his first time taking a swing at turning it on. he had nabbed it from a party he had visited, thinking of it as a trophy when they had kicked him out.