#Also! the cracks and the crown looking halo are her true form breaking through

[buqbite]

1863rd destruction of [Eden]

[highlordrhysie]

Ring-a-Ring-a-Roses (pt1)

Well, this has certainly taken me a hecking long time to complete, but alas it is done! This is a piece done in response to a request from someone who wishes to remain anonymous, but they gave me some beautiful characters to work with and a wonderfully inspiring idea! So, here it is, I hope you guys like it and that it will be worth the horribly long wait! 

( also, let me know if you want to be tagged in pt2, it might be another long wait but it WILL be done! XD ) 

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Darkness is hypnotic, it doesn’t matter who you are or how pure of heart you may seem, no one is immune to its call. There’s just something in the way it wraps itself around sin that calls to the morbidity of the human soul and turns it sweet like the finest wine. That’s why the people came to Cirque de Macabe, to feed their twisted fascinations and revel in its curious darkness. In the circus tent a violins haunting melody fell to a halt as a woman, the troupes ringleader walked out into the center of the ring. The dress she wore was widows black, its sleeves and hem accented in lace to match the wide brimmed hat which formed a dark halo around her head. A bleach white bird skull looked out over its edge; center piece to the candle like sticks of dynamite that circled the hats crown. She made a strange and impressive sight, yet stood in the midst of the extending silence, not a soul could see her through the shadows. It filled her with an odd sense of power, being able to watch them all grow slowly uncomfortable, she felt like an omniscient being pulling on the strings of their fragile human emotions. Too soon the trance was shattered as overhead a spotlight came to life, casting her in a glow that for a brief moment she could almost convince herself was sunlight. Breathing deep she took a drag on the long cigarette holder balancing in her hand, then in a plume of smoke grinned up at the crowd, flashing the wicked points of her teeth. “ Madame’s and Monsieurs! I welcome you to the great Cirque de Macabe! Tonight, the shadows themselves will be brought to life before your very eyes in the tale of a harrowing journey through the underworld!” The ringleaders voice carried effortlessly around the BigTop, filled to the brim with a sly charisma and the syrupy lilt of an accent “ for you see, the universe is more than just this world! There are many and each is like a sheet of the finest silk, layered over one another so that in places they all but touch. These places are known as veils and it is here that our story begins, with the misfortune of a mortal girl, fallen from her world and straight into the mouth of hell ...” Perfectly timed, a giggle of laughter came from the edge of the ring as a smoke bomb rolled to a stop at her feet, hissing black mist all around and with it the Ringleader vanished.                                                               ~

From within the audience a very particular young man watched it all take place. It had been two years since he'd first heard of Cirque de Macabe. It's name had drifted through the muddy streets of Prague and intrigued he'd managed to work his way into the blood red BigTop. After that, he'd walked out a man obsessed, completely enthralled by their stories and the strange, twisted mystery of its performers. That night was the first of their newest tale and a music box melody came to life as the smoke cleared to reveal a young woman, the mortal, rushed out onto stage. The flower ladened tulle of her dress rippled as she looked around in apparent distress, and her golden hair shone like a flame against the dark backdrop. As she fluttered, other creatures began to stir as though drawn by her movements, then in despair she dropped to the floor and buried her head in her hands. That's when they emerged, some crawling out from beneath the stands and others tumbling from the sky on soft black ribbons. Their costumes were skin tight and patterned with the mottled brown of bark , shot through with an iridescent blue which glistened in the light. That same shimmer was dusted over the sharp planes of their faces and worked in among the feathers, leaves and lace which adorned them. As they moved towards the girl, their lean bodies twisting with a predatory gait, he caught flashes of their strange features from within the costume. To any who didn't know better their black, slanted eyes and pointed ears might have been missed, but he’d always wondered at this as there was something too eloquent about their look to be the simple product of makeup. 

At last, the girl looked up  and fell back with a silent scream. Then the dance began and the music turned into something wild with menace as the faery dancers pushed and pulled her between them in snapping, taunting movements. When she tried to break free, they folded themselves into shapes unthinkable and swung from the ribbons in elegant arcs to block their preys path to escape. When at last the song fell to a close, the dancers made a final lunge for the girl, but as they did there was a rush of air and an aerial acrobat swept low over their heads. The dancers hissed in fear and scrambled away, freeing the girl who raced back through the curtain. The crowd applauded, waiting in eager anticipation for the acrobat to return and they didn't have to wait long before a new melody arose and the three performers appeared poised among the rafters. All three siblings had tattoos coiling from their necks to their feet, the colours of which stood stark against their pale skin and moon white hair. From that distance it was impossible to tell what what the tattoos were, but the man had been to the circus enough times to know that on the twin girls you would find a pair of dragons and on their brother a brilliant Phoenix. At first, the act appeared like any other aerial show, graceful and beautiful as they flipped and swung through the air, but then as their movements built, it started to change. like a heat haze, the edges around their bodies started to blur, giving the impression of movement in slow motion. A gasp ricocheted throughout the audience as suddenly it was as if glowing ghostly skins peeled away from each of them so that where once the performers had been, two dragons and a Phoenix now soared in their place. Soft sparks trailed behind them, but where they landed there wasn’t an ounce of heat, they simply fell away; disintegrating against the skin. Awe hung heavy in the air and it was truly an eerie sight to behold as the glowing miracle of the creatures was reflected in the wide depth of the audiences eyes. 

A couple of people would no doubt be scrutinizing the set, looking for an explanation, but that was the beauty of this act. No matter how hard they tried, they would not find one. It did not exist. When their time came to an end, the creatures faded away to reveal the acrobats once more and it was with true dramatic flare that they disappeared back up into the rafters, seemingly swallowed up by the tent itself.

A movement flickered out the edge of the onlookers vision and he glanced down in time to see the Mortal appear back on stage and this time she was not alone. A figure was stood still as death in the center of the ring, head hanging limp so its long, dust grey hair shielded its face. Swathes of white lace dressed the woman’s body, loose and ill- fitting like a wedding gown stolen from a corpse.   The crowd watched as the mortal approached the figure, but just before she could touch her, the strange woman suddenly became animated and swiveled round to face the girl. From there the story showed how the woman offered the girl her aid, telling her of her great power as a Medium and walker of worlds. She promised that she would be able to get a message through the spirit realm to the girls family and so it was that they joined hands for the séance. The Medium began to chant and as she did, the room grew colder, so much so that the crowds breath could be seen misting in the air. Tension built as things began to sway and creak in time with the chilling music which played over head and the whisper of phantom voices joined with the song. Then the Medium smiled and its seemed to stretch unnaturally across her face as her eyes flooded white and her veins turned black beneath her translucent skin. The girl cried out and with struggle managed to rip her hands from the Mediums grasp. She bolted away, but the Medium would not be fooled. With a sickening crack her head rotated on its neck as she spat out the final part of the chant and with it, the girl fell to a boneless heap on the floor. The Medium cackled and rose into the air, hanging like a rag doll suspended on strings. When she spoke again it was with a voice layered with many tones, none of them human but each of them chilling as they crept deep beneath the surface of the skin. It was an act solely designed to instill discomfort, calling forth all the instinctive fear that mankind holds for the paranormal. She would pick on people, and speak of things that no one else should know, taking on the voice of long dead ancestors and angry souls whose stories were ones of bitter and gruesome deaths. At one point she disappeared altogether, the whispered voices rising and then a shriek came from the audience as a lady and her partner looked up  to find her hanging bat-like behind their seats. With all the intensity, it had almost been forgotten that the golden haired girl still lay on the floor, until she began to stir. She saw the Medium hovering above and seemed to harden her self as she got to her feet and marked a circle onto the ground. Then, reaching up, she grabbed a fistful of the Mediums gown, yanking her from the air and into the circle. The sound that came out of the Mediums  mouth was hideous as she  convulsed, then, all at once,  her body relaxed and with a sigh the energy drained from the room. Fragile now, the Medium looked at the mortal girl with a tired curiosity, before shuffling from the ring., The crowd seemed to take a moment to recover but eventually an applause rose and when it did it was roaring. The next act was that of the Siren. Just like the start of the show, it began with a violin, but unlike the first, this song was smooth and rich and eerily hypnotic. The owner of the sound turned out to be a man, more human looking than any of the performers so far, but it was with such reverence that he held the beautiful instrument beneath his chin that his mortality was turned into magic. He did not, however, hold attention for long, for in his wake walked a woman of such overwhelming grace that the heart itself seemed to ache. With the golden headdress she wore radiating out like a sunset over her amethyst  hair, she looked like a true Goddess, blooming color in the darkness that threatened to consume. That was before she even started to sing, because when she did…well, it was enough to shatter the soul. A crescendo of emotions barreled through the audience as she sang, her voice guiding them with a power such that no earthly creature should posses. Tears glittered on people’s faces and even the young man who’d heard her voice many times before felt his cheeks grow damp and his heart swell with such overwhelming emotion that it bordered on pain. Within the story, the mortal girl was also entranced and like a sleepwalker she approached the siren, before falling in awe at her feet. She looked up at her, her demeanor full of worship and in return the Siren laid a gentle hand upon her head, stroking back her hair in a soothing, possessive motion.

Slowly, the song started to come to a close and the sense of loss that accompanied it was enough to cripple a person with longing. A strange hiss punctured the delirium and for a moment it occurred to him that perhaps some strange creature had managed to get loose and was about to set upon the crowd, but then, as if a bomb gone off, it exploded. Sparks flew into the air, like a golden river running into the sky and before they could fall  to the ground, each pin prick of light flared outwards, so bright that you were forced to look away under threat of being blinded. Blinking past the stain on his vision, the man looked back to the arch and found that where only a moment ago there had been nothing, the Ringleader now stood and alongside her, a new, even stranger man. The latter wore a long green coat, embroidered with whorls of sparking gold and a waist coat to match. This, added together with the frilled white neck tie and the aging top hat, made for a daring mish-mash of styles. What really caught the eye however was the pair of obsidian horns poking out from beneath the rim of the hat, their ridges also dusted with gold. On the other side of the ring the Siren pulled the mortal girl closer, her violinist continuing to play as her hold turned tight and she faced down the new arrivals. Neither two, however, made any move to approach her, the man simply smirked and raised a hand, snapping his fingers together in a single, fluid motion. The mortal girl gasped and then right before their eyes she disappeared, replaced by a huge green moth. It fluttered around the Siren who, realizing what had happened, made a grab for it, but the moth dipped out of her grasp. In a blink, the Ringleader moved, dashing across the floor to trap the moth inside a bronze barred cage, before retreating back to the mans side as though she’d never moved at all. Seemingly enraged, the Siren ran towards them, clawed hands outstretched, but as she did, the horned man threw an orb high into the air where it burst with an audible crack. Black smoke erupted across the tent, rolling out in thick waves that devoured everything in their path. As they flooded down, the young man looked into them and swore that suspended in the air a great creature shifted to look right back. Then it was gone, and suddenly not a soul could see in front, behind or to the side of themselves. It should have been terrifying, so close was it to the feeling of being buried alive, but just as the fear was setting in, the darkness became littered with stars. Terror replaced by awe, it was like becoming one with the universe and the stars shifted to your touch, you became a god governing worlds. It faded quickly, the black dissolving into transparency to reveal the ring and its new set once more. Six great windows of glass now circled its edge and so clear were they that it would have been easy to miss them if it weren’t for the slightest of distortions running round their edges. Through them, the performers could be seen: the ring leader, the magician and the mortal all on stage and with them, another new performer who looked to be a small girl of maybe twelve or thirteen. Her ratty green hair was tied in uneven bunches and held in place by a pair of copper flight goggles which she wore round her forehead. There was a strange pallor to her, the sort of sickly colour you find on the dead and dying, and yet, sat under the lights, stroking the hair of the sleeping mortal girl, she looked very much alive. The mortal awoke looking into that strange face and took it with fear, but unlike before it seemed to quickly cool into something closer to unease. In the audience, the young man shook his head, marveling once again at the true power of the show; at its ability to convey the finest emotion with naught but the smallest movement. It was then that the horned man now made himself known as The Magician and introduced the Ringleader and green haired girl as friends and assistants in his arts. Bit by bit, he used his words to smooth the mortal girls fears, telling both her and the audience that he intended to show to her the true wonders of their world. It was under this guise that his act, the final act, began. One by one the glass planes began to shimmer and then, one by one they came to life. Each window showed a different scene: a city of glittering gold, an ancient tree, a ballroom of ethereal winged creatures, a circle of standing stones and a lake, silver as molten moonlight. The sixth one, however was different to all the rest. Dark and earthen it showed a crude statue sculpted from red clay into the shape of a sleeping man. All around it the others shifted, their images seeming to expand and reach past their glass constraints, pulling themselves into reality. In centre stage, the magician took something from his coat and then, winding back his arm, he threw it straight at the panel with the clay man, but instead of shattering as it should have, it absorbed the projectile. Where it hit, a lava like glow flowed through the clays cracks until it reached the carving of its eyes. As it did, there came a sound like creaking wood and then the creatures eyes flew wide. It flexed it’s muddy limbs, becoming more solid and agile with every step until it was with the grace of a true trapeze artists that it clambered up the ladders and into the rafters where a tight rope was strung. “ And now, fair mortal, let me show you the greatest marvel of them all!” The magician exclaimed, sweeping his arm above his head. Just as it had with the glass planes, the air parted like a veil and with it the audience gasped. Hanging suspended in a huge glass bowl, was a mermaid, real and in the flesh. Indeed, she was the most magnificent thing, all sparkling scales and coral crusted skin. Her hair flowed around her in a halo as webbed hands moved through the water, showing off the bio-luminescent glow which leaked from every inch of her. She swam around the tank and every now and then would stop and blow bubbles through a pipe, each bubble morphing into a tiny angler fish which swam until popping itself on the side of the bowl. The top of this was open to the air where above it, the clay man had found his way onto the tight rope and started performing tricks, until somersaulting from the rope he dove straight for the mermaids bowl. Quick as an asp, the mermaid leapt from the water to meet him, her jaw unlatching as  he fell straight into her open mouth. Murmurs rang out as the mermaid dropped back into the water with a splash and burped her largest angler fish so far. Her glow slowly faded and the Magician drew the audiences attention back towards him and the mortal girl who was now looking around in awe, her fear forgotten. She swirled around, taking in the miracles before her, but stumbled and fell heavily into the Magician. For a moment they simply stared at one another, then, with a sly grin she wrapped her arms around his neck and without hesitation pressed her lips to his. Like a sound wave, the change rippled through her, her once golden hair melting away into raven wing black and the few flowers that remained wilting into a gown of blood red silk which clung scandalously to her curves. Her smile was dark as they broke the kiss where she turned away from the Magician to take the green haired girl by the hands and waltz with her to to where a human sized canon awaited. Willingly, the little girl clambered inside, pulling her goggles down as from her perch the Ringleader lit the fuse with the end of her cigarette. While it hissed, the now dark mortal and Magician continued to dance the waltz to its end, where on que, the canon exploded. Like glass, the six ghostly images shattered and the girl shot out like an arrow, a faint mist of blood raining down as she broke through the canvas of the tent and disappeared like a speck into the night sky. The audience flew into applause as the performers all came out to take their final bow and for each one to disappear behind the curtain until only the Ringleader remained, alone in the ring once more. “Au revoir!” Was all she said, before throwing her hat high into the air above her. Then, in a blink she was gone, leaving nothing but the hat to fall with a thump to the floor, and the empty sockets of a bleach white bird skull to watch the audience as it left.