(Untitled)

[enigmaestro]

Who: Everyone at the State Island Renn Faire.
When: From noon 4/29 to 11:59pm 5/2
Where: Staten Island.
Summary: Reality is temporarily broken as demonic forces accidentally make a Renn Faire very real.
Warnings: None?
Format: Whatever thou doth deign upon.

Comments

( open ) after the rennfest becomes TRES REAL

[disillusionists]

[ one would normally pass her over. in fact, she barely draws any attention except for those who were truly curious it seems, with the way she's wrapped in swaths of fabric, and there's a small sign resting beside her written in fine, purple lettering, offering services of fortune telling. she sits amongst the booths of crafts and smiths, oddly close to the Darkwood Forest from her position. how adorable.

however, what's really distracting is the strange feeling one would get from her, as if something isn't quite right. disturbing and horrific, even. but she'd just smile and a glimpse of purple eyes could be caught under that hood.

won't you come get your fortune read? ]

apologies for butchering ye olde englishe in advance!

[ridi_arlecchino]

[Renaissance!Harley should be heading towards the tavern right about now, but she can't help but get merrily distracted by the different crafters and artisans and the variety of wares around her. She walks slower and slower, and after spending some time admiring a metalworker's hammer, finally takes notice of the small fortune teller. Now this is something she can't bear to pass up!

She approaches Rose excitedly, picking up her skirt in her hurry. :D!]

Hello! Canst thou truly foretell the future, little lady?

oh dear god ye olde english /USES TRANSLATOR

[disillusionists]

[ hmm. it looks like the little fortune-teller has a customer. she tips her head up, the flash of purple eyes gleaming momentarily under bangs and her hood before she smiles and gestures at her sign ]

That is what my sign sayeth. Prithee, art thou interested?

[ her hands move to her lip where a bundle of fabric is folded ]

[ridi_arlecchino]

Aye, verily! [She clasps her hands together next to her face. :D!] D'ye think thou couldst tell me how I shall find my true love?

[disillusionists]

[ she smiles again and starts to unwrap her bundle, revealing a gleaming crystal ball. ]

Come hither.

[ she gestures Harley to come closer before holding her hands above her crystal ball, staring deep into its surface. ]

Thou shalt have many true loves. At least, that is what thou shalt believe it to be. Thou shalt meet thine first true love in two years time, a performer on stage.

[ridi_arlecchino]

Ooooh... [She gathers 'round, squinting at the crystal ball herself. She perks up instantly as Rose mentions many loves, and gives an excited little squeak at the mention of the stage.] A performer! Forsooth?

[disillusionists]

Aye.

[ she stares even deeper into the ball, interpreting its images. ]

Thou shalt be married to him for seven months before he dies a tragic death. He shalt be strangled on stage in what shalt seem an accident. However, the truth is that it is nary an accident and instead, a murder of jealousy. After that, thine loves seem to grow increasingly horrid.

[ridi_arlecchino]

[Seven months! And then -- D: -- her hand goes to cover her neck without her even realizing it.] Eheh... Horrid?

[disillusionists]

Thine second love wilt be trampled by a rampaging hoard of cattle.

[ said so flatly ]

[ridi_arlecchino]

An entire hoard?

Open to other people in this already open thread; butchering of language incoming

[hasgonehonkers]

[Gamzee doesn't need to come in for a fortune and doesn't want to. He does though love to play his lute a little louder around the fortune teller and he adores making terrible rhymes about others' fortunes as they leave Rose.

There's something particularly funny about the way people glare at him as he leaves that just makes every song worth it.

Today he seems particularly intent on making his songs a little louder and meaner than usual. He sure hopes he's pissing everyone, Rose included of course, off with this effort.

If one wants to hear a song from Gamzee all they have to do is stand around a second too long.]

[disillusionists]

[ she hates you so much, Gamzee ]

[hasgonehonkers]

[Oh, what's that? Is that the anger he so loves?

Why, he might be playing louder now.]

[disillusionists]

[ THIS GLARE.

HIS WAY.

THIS GLARE HIS WAY. ]

[hasgonehonkers]

[Oh it seems she can't quite hear the music.

He'll just play it a little louder for her then and give her this terrible smile.]

[disillusionists]

[ ALL HER SELF CONTROL NOT TO EXPLODE HIS LUTE.

pretend this is in ye olde english: ]

You must desperately wish to hear your fortune, hmm?