art-theclown

[art-theclown]

Apparently salt can be very functional but bleach may score higher.

[art-theclown]

Hi

Hi! You got cookies?

[art-theclown]

Hello art the clown. I'm also a demonic killer clown. Wanna be friends and go on a killing spree?

Sounds like you know how to have fun. Have I seen you in the underworld before?

[art-theclown]

Mun is interviewing him. Send questions before sunday

Guys, I'm interviewing Geoffrey Giuliano aka Vip 4 from Squid Game this Sunday.

Send in any questions you have to my ask box. We can work them out!

[art-theclown]

You know what? I need cookies. 

[art-theclown]

((As a general guide, what I mean by semi-lit in the rules is that if we do a thread, reblogs should be at least a paragraph or two. 

I appreciate you guys wanting to rp with Art but please make sure you follow that style of writing if you want to write a thread with me. I can’t get much from one or two sentences in order for me to write a good response back and at the same time, it doesn’t seem fair. Maybe take a look at my threads, see if you can match the style.

If you do want to do short sentences type of rp I do encourage you to do the ask box. That’s what it’s there for! I don’t bite. Art does, though. We can have fun that way there.

Thank you for understanding!))

[art-theclown]

The back of an old abandoned building. Art had that place as a mental note for future use and the future was now here. After the massacre he was responsible for a year ago, the place had been shut down and if before it was almost uninhabitable, now it had become a reflection of misery. Dirt, fungus on every wall, rats finding a new place to live running along the sinister corridors. 

He carried Cynthia to the room where he had butchered that blonde. He would have almost jumped with excitement at the memories if it hadn’t been for him holding the weight of this new victim and his own bag. Art took a chair for her, letting her body fall onto it with no sense of care. Then he searched into the bag for tape, hating to go again through this routine of tying them up but knowing it was necessary if he wanted to torment them easily. 

Once the woman was fully restrained, hands and feet to each leg of the chair, he took a moment to grab her by the cheeks, squeezing her face, relaxed by the powerful sedative. He leaned in, closing the distance to her neck and breathed in. Yes, that was the scent he perceived before that didn’t match with that disgusting place. Actually, it was sweet, and a flash of hesitation crossed his gaze. Her living breathing pulse was the thing making it sweet. 

It was a late night of partying and all cynthia wanted to do was get home. She fixed her messy wind blown hair before entering a small cafe. She sat in a booth looking at the news paper as the shadow of someone silently approached her. Startled, she looked up to see a clown...or mime...? She blushed as she loves clowns anyway. But this clown... there was something about him that was just...creepy yet fascinating. "Hey there. Want to sit?" She offers him the seat across from her.

The late night streets were pretty empty and the enthusiasm to find new human flesh to mortify was decaying by the second.

When he saw lights on in the cafe, Art decided to give it a try, hoping to succeed as he one did at a pizza shop of the same kind. He looked around. Wide black eyes scanning the place. Only three people. A couple in the corner too drunk and annoyingly showing off their passion with public kisses. But then the sight of the girl in the booth quickly transformed his disgust into interest.

Oh? Of course he was going to take her offering. He sat down in front of her, exaggerating a tired motion while he lied his black bag on the floor and brought his hands to his face, playing a silent peek-a-boo and stopping with a wide sinister smile fixed on her.

[art-theclown]

Oh, that’s a fun idea! If I squeeze the warmth of my insides around you, do you make sounds, too?

Naughty plaything. Almost amusing.

Why don't you come and find out? May be the first time someone gets me to speak.

Hope you don't mind screaming later.

[art-theclown]

I may be back for a little while.

Smirking to @soar737 . I'm watching you.

[art-theclown]

Dear Art,

Earlier I was watching your movie. I saw the scene where you pull Tara’s hair and hold a saw to her throat, and I couldn’t stop squirming. Then, I went to the bathroom, and afterwards I checked myself and realized that I had gotten wet.

I wanted to ask: if you could do anything at all to me in a context outside of murder or torture, what would you do?

No torture and no murder sounds like no fun at all. Maybe, just maybe, I'd consider sticking my clown horn inside you and hearing it sound for my entertainment. Sounds like you could like that. I'm quite a gentleman so I'll make sure you get a nice seat while you stay like that for an hour or two.

[art-theclown]

Had a naughty little dream about you just last night, Art.

You were flirting with me, so naturally I flirted back. You pulled me down to sit next to you and we flirted some more. Then we started kissing and things got heated. While making out, you pulled me onto your lap and had me grinding on your thigh.

Too bad it ended there. Oh well, maybe next time.

Are you sure it was a dream?

[art-theclown]

With an enormous grin on his face, Art watched the girl fall onto the rock and took advantage to move on top of her, her screaming unnoticed to his demon ears; after all, there was going to be plenty of room to keep hearing screams later on. 

Art took his moment to show her the syringe, playfully threatening to attack her with it just so he could relish in the panic of her eyes. After a few hand movements worthy of a magician art, he managed to dig the needle into her neck. Checking an invisible watch, he counted with no actual sound in his words “One, two, three...”, rolling his eyes when she delayed in falling asleep till finally she did. 

With Cynthia over his shoulder and the bag on his other hand, he started walking away. 

It was a late night of partying and all cynthia wanted to do was get home. She fixed her messy wind blown hair before entering a small cafe. She sat in a booth looking at the news paper as the shadow of someone silently approached her. Startled, she looked up to see a clown...or mime...? She blushed as she loves clowns anyway. But this clown... there was something about him that was just...creepy yet fascinating. "Hey there. Want to sit?" She offers him the seat across from her.

The late night streets were pretty empty and the enthusiasm to find new human flesh to mortify was decaying by the second.

When he saw lights on in the cafe, Art decided to give it a try, hoping to succeed as he one did at a pizza shop of the same kind. He looked around. Wide black eyes scanning the place. Only three people. A couple in the corner too drunk and annoyingly showing off their passion with public kisses. But then the sight of the girl in the booth quickly transformed his disgust into interest.

Oh? Of course he was going to take her offering. He sat down in front of her, exaggerating a tired motion while he lied his black bag on the floor and brought his hands to his face, playing a silent peek-a-boo and stopping with a wide sinister smile fixed on her.

[art-theclown]

Hi! How old do you think is Art the clown?

Sorry if my english is bad. =)))

((I think in human age he seems like 30+ but I picture him as something that was born as a product of Hell so he may have been born many many centuries ago but always in an adult shape form))

[art-theclown]

Hey Art. You wanna make some Molotov cocktails with me and go throw them at cop cars?

"Will there be limbs exploding?” 

[art-theclown]

Hey Art. I got some shrooms. You want some?

*Exaggeratedly extending hand*

[art-theclown]

Art was fascinanted by the fact that she had carried his bag outside. After the scenes he always put up in the restrooms, if someone got him his bag back, It was the pissed owner of the chosen shop.

But humans could be surprisingly silly when acting with a noble heart.

The girl was smart enough to take a look into the weapons, though, and even smarter to hide. Unluckily for her, Art was spying the direction she took so, after recovering his bag, to the outhouse he went.

He had to really dig to the base of the bag to catch the lighter. Almost with no patience, he managed to make fire to one of the wooden corners of the outhouse.

Oh, she was going to come out. But when she did, he was waiting for her with a sedative in an infamous syringe.

It was a late night of partying and all cynthia wanted to do was get home. She fixed her messy wind blown hair before entering a small cafe. She sat in a booth looking at the news paper as the shadow of someone silently approached her. Startled, she looked up to see a clown...or mime...? She blushed as she loves clowns anyway. But this clown... there was something about him that was just...creepy yet fascinating. "Hey there. Want to sit?" She offers him the seat across from her.

The late night streets were pretty empty and the enthusiasm to find new human flesh to mortify was decaying by the second.

When he saw lights on in the cafe, Art decided to give it a try, hoping to succeed as he one did at a pizza shop of the same kind. He looked around. Wide black eyes scanning the place. Only three people. A couple in the corner too drunk and annoyingly showing off their passion with public kisses. But then the sight of the girl in the booth quickly transformed his disgust into interest.

Oh? Of course he was going to take her offering. He sat down in front of her, exaggerating a tired motion while he lied his black bag on the floor and brought his hands to his face, playing a silent peek-a-boo and stopping with a wide sinister smile fixed on her.

[art-theclown]

“What the fuck is that?”, the man from the counter said out loud. “You”, he said to the only waitress, “Go clean the table of our lovely couple. If they don’t buy anything else, they gotta go”. 

The man removed his apron and went to investigate the noise. Shortly after, he came back to the tables but grabbing Art by a handful of his clothes. “You fucking pig! If I see you again in here, I’m calling the police!”, he yelled and pushed him out of the cafe. 

Sighing loudly, the man looked at the other four people inside. “Sorry, the restroom is unavailable. Emma, come here”, he called the waitress to go to the counter with him to discuss what happened. 

It was a late night of partying and all cynthia wanted to do was get home. She fixed her messy wind blown hair before entering a small cafe. She sat in a booth looking at the news paper as the shadow of someone silently approached her. Startled, she looked up to see a clown...or mime...? She blushed as she loves clowns anyway. But this clown... there was something about him that was just...creepy yet fascinating. "Hey there. Want to sit?" She offers him the seat across from her.

The late night streets were pretty empty and the enthusiasm to find new human flesh to mortify was decaying by the second.

When he saw lights on in the cafe, Art decided to give it a try, hoping to succeed as he one did at a pizza shop of the same kind. He looked around. Wide black eyes scanning the place. Only three people. A couple in the corner too drunk and annoyingly showing off their passion with public kisses. But then the sight of the girl in the booth quickly transformed his disgust into interest.

Oh? Of course he was going to take her offering. He sat down in front of her, exaggerating a tired motion while he lied his black bag on the floor and brought his hands to his face, playing a silent peek-a-boo and stopping with a wide sinister smile fixed on her.