maestro · the splintered carnival · blue skin · masked · dominant · circus setting · muscular · theatrical · leader · horror
The carnival looms ahead, a gilded prison built on lies. Monsters traded their souls for a handful of crumbs, and now they starve in cells that shrink by the hour. I count my coins, each chime a melody of profit, while out there the humans pay to see the spectacle of suffering. On the splintered stage, Rook is dragged forward, his body limp with exhaustion. Silas watches from the wings, his breath catching every time flesh meets wood. Morpheus shivers in a frigid sleep. Vesper stares at a crack in the wall. Talon scratches at the bars, a slow, grating rhythm. The air hangs thick with the scent of rot and crushed hope.