Forums » General Roleplay » Trick or Treat: The Mysterious Maze (Closed)

Ashen gaze narrowed with interest when he was offered the stones, palm held upward to receive them. He inspected them carefully as she explained them to him, hanging on every word with quiet curiosity. "Creativity? Zat is somezing can use een abundance," he smiled warmly, those eyes flicking back up to lock onto hers at the last ominous comment about trouble and something to soothe. He couldn't decide how to take that, opting to give her a firm nod rather than say anything else.

Abyssal gaze wandered back and forth between the two choices, contemplating the 'always go left' theory when the third fabric fell behind them. He turned, eyes darkening in amusement when he drank in the object inside the box. Was that him? It was so intricate and accurate, especially having to be made in such a short amount of time. He couldn't help but wonder if supernatural forces had come into play just a little, and if so, what they consisted of. That thought wasn't what sent the chills clawing viciously down his spine however, but what they had done to the doll. Was that supposed to scare him? He admitted to himself that it did make him a little unsettled, but something like that wouldn't kill him even if it did happen. It would just hurt like hell and probably leave some massive scars. He cleared his throat, wearing a calm poker face as he shoved those thoughts from his skull. At Priscilla's inspection of the doll, he shook his head, "Feel fine. Probably attempts to spook me, yes." He wondered about the hint of a gleam he thought he caught in her gaze, but didn't call her out on it. A normal mortal wouldn't be so attentive.

A slow grin of his own spread over his lips at the silly grin he'd been given by Dorothy, shark-like eyes lighting up and flickering brightly with sheer amusement, "Ha!" Her cackles had evoked some of his own, much like a deeper version of Joker, a rich and smooth baritone with a musical sort of edge. That laugh was hopefully enough of a sign that he didn't take her hex joke seriously. He nodded when she'd asked if they wanted to go left again, glancing to Priscilla to see if she had an alternate suggestion this time.

"No, don't-" he started to protest to Dorothy but it was too late. He'd smelled the pepper the moment it was unwrapped, the spice hitting his nose like a freight train. He knew hot things well, being a creature of the fire himself. Knuckles were bitten with a look of empathy when she coughed and sputtered. "Could smell eet from over here," he shook his head softly, "Zey have gone all out wiz treeks tonight, eet seems." He nodded in agreement to Priscilla regarding the light and Dorothy's eyes, "Right eet eez." A hand was offered to the poor witch, "Here, weel help guide you best I can?" He nodded to Priscilla about taking the lead. Truth be told, that doll had sparked a little unease in the pit of his stomach so he'd rather not be leading the pack.. at least, not right now. He cackled at Ben's enthusiasm and wondered briefly if maybe they should throw him in the lead instead. He seemed all too willing to dive straight into danger. In the past, Dimitri would have been the same way. He learned the hard way though, caution is key to survival.

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Those with supernatural senses would derive nothing notable from the mysterious maze, nor the doll prank- or premonition? Whatever it may symbolize, the maze itself seemed mundane (save that perpetual sense of suppressed sound from the outside). A pathway was a pathway, and as the group stepped into that deep green light, the twists and turns did not change before nor behind them. A dead end was simply a stop, so selecting a different direction in the swerving emerald halls would lead them further onward. With perhaps some trial and error of sudden stops or roundabout turns, hopefully with minimal bumping into one another, they would eventually come upon the next open area. This one was significantly different from the red room. Though torches were planted in the exposed dirt floor as before, the walls were lined not with curtains, but with all-encompassing ivy. Accompanying the leafy interior were park trees the room had been built around, with a worn path winding through them. It was akin to entering a sparse forest. The air here was humid, thick with the exhale of foliage, the space between trees interrupted by the occasional dangling vine (or rope painted green, should any inspect). Further along, basking in the light of green lanterns above and flickering torches below, a man awaited them.

There was no curtain this time around, and whilst he began with his back to the audience, he did not do so standing upright upon a stage. Rather, he hung by his feet from a rope. Clothed only in baggy black harem pants, his exposed torso was compact with muscle and significantly tattooed. So marked was he, not even the keenest eye could spy a stretch of plain skin. The pattern wrapped him with an armor of scales which seemed to pop against the foul mossy light. In a feat of exceptional strength, or perhaps freakish flexibility, his body began to bend backwards at the waist. Ever so slowly rose his head til he met them face-to-face. Yellow were his eyes, bald his head, pointed his ears. The inky scales did not stop at his neck, but covered him in entirety. When he grinned, the teeth which gleamed were wickedly sharp, and the tongue that darted out over his lips was split in a serpentine fashion. They had stepped into the den of a reptilian contortionist.


Once again came the thrumming of drums from an unseen band, yet his beat was all too apart from the fire-dancer's. Whereas hers was a song of sensuality and deep emotion, his was a savage series of predatory pulses. With a straightening of spine and swerve of shoulders, the rope was partially wrapped around his chest. Down he started to slide, spiraling for the floor, weaving around the fiber like an approaching anaconda. The performer sank and slithered his belly onto to the earth. As he lie downward, his hips suddenly swung over his head with a gruesome arch, feet running past his own upturned face in a contorted jig. He propped himself up upon their soles, then rolled out his arms in a manner most macabre, back a bridge while he skittered upside-down on hands and feet. It seemed as though the bendy anomaly was barreling straight for them, then that twisted gait abruptly diverted, carrying him sideways like a spider dancing 'round its catch. He halted at the base of a tree and rose. Stomach twisting, ribs jutting and muscles rippling in an obscene celebration of anatomy, he swung his arms about and spiraled his way up into a straight stand. Beaming those nasty fangs all the while, the contortionist paused to meet them with a welcoming bow before reaching upwards.

It seemed he would snag a vine, perhaps tug himself upwards for a swing in the trees, only- that was no vine at all. It was a true snake, a thick-bellied boa which stretched down as her handler stretched up, sliding obediently into a palm. How many more lingered in the boughs overhead...?

((I'm quite enjoying this one! I'd love to get to finish it, even if it extends past Halloween! ))

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"Here, weel help guide you best I can?"

As much as Dorothy didn’t like being thought of as the helpless sort, she was glad enough for the hand that Dimitri offered and reached out to take it. She did her best to try to play it “cool” and to suppress the coughs that were tickling the back of her throat, glad that the green face paint and veil most likely hid how red her face had become. “Your hands are so … cough … warm,” she said to the Russian man. Her own were often cool or even cold except on the hottest of days. Even with the hot pepper burning her mouth, her hands were still chilled with the October weather. Not that it was uncommon for a man’s hands to be warmer than hers, but his felt warmer than average, she thought. Though maybe it was just her imagination. She let him help guide her through the green halls while she reached her other hand under the black lacy veil to wipe at her eyes, doing her best not to step on Priscilla's ill-protected feet when the group of them got a little clustered up at the dead ends.

And by the time they reached the forest-like room, her eyes were cleared enough that she was able to let go of Dimitri's hand without fear of running into anything. “Thanks,” she gave him a quick smile. “I think I’m okay now.”

Then she caught site of the tattooed snake man and couldn’t help a small wrinkle of her nose. And here she thought she hung out with some of society's outcasts. One-Eyed Bobby, Bones, and Flinch all looked like model citizens in comparison. “Luddy mussy…” she whispered under her breath, hopefully only loud enough for her three companions to hear. “He could back a buzzard off a meat wagon, huh?”

The performance, though certainly impressive, gave her a bit of the heebie jeebies and she couldn’t help but glance upwards, just to make sure there wasn’t one of them big ol' snakes hanging right above her.

When decided, Priscilla took the initiative; walking down the path with the group behind. “We walk a crooked path.” She mused aloud after a time of roundabout turns and sudden stops. “I never thought of looking, but how large do you think this maze is?”

A sigh of relief escaped her when they entered a more open area, looking around with interest as she saw trees. “A bit humid, but I quite like this room. Feels like home.” Eyes traveled upward, the smile on her face soon falling as she laid eyes upon seeing a curious sight. A serpentine man curled up in a vine. He moved so smoothly, matching the characteristics of the animal he had taken on as a persona. Seeing it brought a shiver up her spine.

“What he does not have in looks, he may have the tongue of the serpent that tempted Eve.” She whispered to Dorothy, chuckling softly at the thought. “He could be a real charmer under all those scales.”

Eyes fleetingly lowered to the ground to see if any ‘friends’ were around their feet, finding that one of her feet was tapping along with the rhythm of the drum. Her smile returned, scolding herself for being silly. This was a game. No harm would be done to them so long as they follow the rules.

((I'm glad, so have I! Bad news, though. They powered down my town for the past three days, it came on a little while ago and there's a small window 'til about 4AM when it will go down again Because it's been a couple days since the last post, and I can't say how long I'll be gone again, I'm gonna go ahead and post again tonight while there's time! Give y'all a little more to work with. Since we've sort of established an order up to this point, feel free to "reset" it after this.))

While the women spoke softly between themselves, the show continued to unravel without hint of distraction. The serpent slid down that expectant arm, and as the contortionist arched away into a backward bend, she brought the whole of her body down from the bough. A persistent smile was sustained throughout the performance. Brutal though his altered appearance was, the expression was one of unadulterated joy. It paralleled that of a boy playing fetch with his hound. He did not revel in revolting nor amazing his audience, for he was no social sadist, but delighted simply in being seen- regardless of reaction. It was clear the oddity enjoyed his act, and his companion did not seem too troubled by her role. While the marked man twisted and stretched, she adapted with casual coils, hooking her tail and moving in a way which would ensure she did not fall from him. Their movements seemed to meld over time; one would witness the synchronized ripple of muscles beneath scales. He walked upon his hands, bent as if boneless, moving with controlled slowness and strength. With a contented drawl, he called out to them in an airy, strange, staccato manner of speech. "The gift I give is a display of loyalty. I am true to myself: I look how I choose to look, how I feel on the inside. I am true to my friends, here, and they bring me no harm, for they know I will take care of them. We must be honest with ourselves and our ken."

Fortunately, the earth was free of slithering visitors, though those who stared well and true into the trees would see some lazily writhing through the upmost branches. The company was watched from all directions.

The end of the reptilian contortionist's act saw him standing on his hands, hooking a tree branch with his toes, and gradually pulling himself up with an exceptional display of leg power. Once seated upon it, he rifled through a hollow at the base of a branch, scooping contents and swinging down again. While dangling, legs crisscrossed, the upside-down contortionist beckoned them in. In his left grip, a black bag, and in the right a glass goblet. He would gift them as the firebreather had done, albeit with all new treats. While these too contained a surprise, they were transparent in nature, literally. Encased in a hard honey candy were stingerless scorpions. "One for each!" the performer prompted amiably, encouraging them to pluck their prizes with gestures of the glass. Yet it would be Dorothy's turn to receive something specific. He watched her with a patient smile, waiting til she came closer before he held up the black bag. As soon as she was within arm's reach, he shook it with waves of his wrist, and from the sack came the sound of lethal rattling. The performer hissed a light laugh through his teeth before producing the sound's source: a rattler's tail charm, trapped in the shell of a bullet and suspended from a string. "They do not bite their own, you know," the enigma assured on a rather sly matter-of-fact note, only to add at a near whisper, "it will frighten them away, and perhaps other 'snakes' which would come for you, too!"

The words that were spoken made more of an impact compared to the fire dancer’s advice. Oh, to feel free in one’s skin and to not feel the pressure of the expectations of her peers! It was she dreamed for, being a working-class woman.

Priscilla walked forward without hesitation when treats were presented, reaching into the goblet with eyes filled with curiosity. They would widen when she inspected the sweet, marveling at the little insect that was trapped within the honey. It resembled amber. “I do not think I have ever seen a spider like this before!” She voiced her shock as she moved to the side to allow others to take a piece. “Thank you, sir.”

Fingers brought it to parted lips, lightly sucking on it. The honey was delicious, yet she was careful not to bite down. She would let it melt on her tongue first and enjoy it. What would it taste like, she wondered? Perhaps it would be savory. Or sour. However, when it at last was released from its sweet cage, a shiver washed over her frame as it sat on her tongue. Unable to resist, she spat it politely into her hand so she could inspect it closer.

The tip of her nail nudged the body, turning it around in her palm before tapping one of its claws. It was cute now, but would it remain that way if it was alive? “I never thought of eating a bug before. Oh my, if a high-class lady was here; I am sure she would faint at the sight!” A smirk formed on her lips at the thought before tossing the delectable into her mouth and biting down.

The young maid winced at the crunch, slowly chewing on it before swallowing. It was acrid in taste, like eating a nut on the cusp of going bad, but it was not awful. It was rather enjoyable with the sweetness of the honey. “I quite like that one. Off-putting in appearance, but an enjoyment when one gives it at try.”

((Yum, scorpion! The best odd candy out there next to chocolate covered ants and salted tarantula. Halloween brings out the creepiest sweets.))

((Alder, hopefully you get some rain soon! Assuming that would negate the need for the outages? And what a cool gift for Dorothy! I have a feeling that little trinket might make it into her list of gear!))

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Dorothy watched the remainder of the contortionist's performance with a mix of admiration at the performer's strength and uneasy shivers at the site of the constrictor wrapping herself around him.

When he hung upside down and held forth the treats, she was more hesitant this time to take the candy after being the one to catch the nasty hidden surprise last time. So was happy to let Priscilla claim the first one.

"That ain't no spider. It'sa scorpion trapped in that bee-sweetenin'," she said. "Used to see 'em in Texas sometimes. Sure didn't want pricked by one of 'em."

Even though the other girl tasted her candy and even seemed to like it, Dorothy simply slipped hers into the velvet satchel. Maybe she'd offer it to Flinch later.

As the scale covered man offered her a special gift however, her attitude changed from cool to warm in a heartbeat. Gifts obviously were a quick way into this rough woman’s good graces. Her mouth turned up into a genuine smile as she took the brass casing, giving it a little shake to hear it warn just like a timber rattler.

"I dunno if I'll be testin' that theory up close 'n personal. But I'll keep it handy just the same," she said.