The Carnival - Henmei shikei

[Boston]

“Hey...” Tommy frowned when Jo knocked the ukulele from his hands, sitting up a bit to watch it bounce to the floor. One of the strings snapped, and Tommy sighed, “Well way to go, there goes the music.” He just watched as Jo stood, and prepared to catch her.

She was obviously drunk, an energetic drunk at that, so he would let her burn it off—the loss of blood she had experienced would help with that, so all he had to do was wait...and...

Jo fell right into Tommy's arms, and he laid her back down on the couch carefully. “So we're agreed, neither of us wants to kiss the other. You're drunk,” he said, “but I suppose it's my fault for allowing it.” He reached over and grabbed her ankles, and lifted her legs carefully so they rested across his lap. He patted her ankle twice, “You're bleeding, and since you're drunk you're only gonna bleed faster. So do me a favor and just sit still, don't agitate your wounds any more than they already are, alright?”

A foolish feat, perhaps, trying to convince a drunk person to sit still, but maybe the threat of impending death would help his cause. He kept a firm grip on her ankle, though, at least until he was convinced Jo wouldn't explode with any more sudden bursts of energy.

When she seemed to have settled down enough, he stretched his neck to look over her legs and the edge of the couch, to grab the ukulele with his feet. He flipped it up and, quite skillfully, grabbed it out of the air with one hand. “Now I only got two strings left, but any requests come to mind?” he asked as he began plucking the two remaining strings, the quiet tune somewhat off.

He was pointedly ignoring her comment about kissing—she was drunk, and in no state to be throwing her lips around so willy-nilly. He would address it when she sobered up, if she remembered, “Tell me something about yourself, Jo.” He didn't exactly want her to fall asleep. She had lost a lot of blood, after all, and falling asleep could be dangerous.

“What's your favorite color?” he asked, plucking the ukulele strings quietly.

[Jo Harris]

*Jo let out a painful moan as Tommy patted her ankle and she glared at him even more as he agreed with her that he didn’t want to kiss her.

~Whatever..~ she slurred, rolling her eyes to the ceiling and biting her bottom lip to stop herself from crying out in pain. He was saying something about her staying still, and kept a hand on her ankle as though that would make her stop squirming. The pressure on her injured ankle was more than she could stand, though she refrained from yelling at him. She was too offended at the whole thought of not being good enough for him to kiss her to say anything to him right now, though she did stop squirming on the lounge and finally he took his hand away.
She watched him silently under heavily hooded lids as he plucked the ukulele from seemingly thin air and began to play a slightly off key tune.

She grunted and rolled her eyes again as he asked for any requests before muttering ~Beethoven’s Minuet..~, in a pissed off hiss that he had no hope in hell of understanding. She shifted uncomfortably on the lounge, trying desperately hard to get comfortable but failing miserably. Sniffling, she wiped the back of her hand against her nose as she struggled and sat upright with great difficulty. Shifting again, she was able to get a bit more comfortable now that she was sitting upright, facing Tommy who was now asking her to tell him something about herself.
~What do you want to know?~ she whispered. ~Cause there aint that much to tell… I like peanut butter.. on sour dough bread…~ she remembered the food she had found earlier and her stomach growled loudly, though she ignored it for now. ~I like the Cure, and reading Stephen King novels, though IT scared the shit out of me, cause I hate clowns more than anything else in this world! I think Janis Joplin is the most amazing singer I ever had the pleasure to hear… and my ankles are screaming at me, so please stop touching them…. I have a black Labrador at home called Stout who I miss more than I can say… oh and my favourite colour is purple..”

She took a deep breath and pointed her toes, flexing her feet and rotating her ankles.

“I could’ve been a prima ballerina.. and I will be a famous painter one day!” She cried out loud as her ankles screamed at her again, and reached down to rub at the burning skin, before she raised her eyes to look up at Tommy.

~The only man I ever loved turned out to be a cheating asshole, just like my Daddy… and I want to kiss you right now, but you don’t want to kiss me… so…~ She lifted her legs up and put them gently over the edge of the lounge, shifting around until she was in a position to stand up. ~I’m going to have something to eat before I pass out.. you keep playing with yourself.. I would hate to interrupt you..~ *

[Boston]

He didn't quite hear Jo's song request, so he had to fill in the blanks. “You said Rick Springfield?” he asked, looking up at her, one eyebrow raised in question, “Whatever suits your fancy.” He began plucking the ukulele strings, coming surprisingly close to an almost-faithful broken-ukulele-rendition of “Jessie's Girl.”

He sang, “Jessie's got himself a girl and I wanna make her mine—Ya know, I wish that I had Jessie's girl! I wish that I had—” he cut himself short when Jo's rumbling stomach practically interrupted him, and for a moment he simply let her continue talking.

When Jo moved to stand, Tommy stood first and placed his hands on her shoulders, “For the last time, you shouldn't be standing. If you don't settle down, I'm gonna have to tie you up.” He guided her gently back to a sitting position on the couch and added, “And I know the difference between tying a knot for business and tying one for pleasure.”

“You just sit still, I'll make a meal out of this bounty you've provided,” he said as he dragged the small table around, positioning it in front of Jo so she could reach it without getting up. “Just like a real dinner table, right?” he said as he sat beside her.

He retrieved a black steel butterfly knife from his pocket and flipped it open with one hand, quite effortlessly, and grabbed the loaf of sourdough bread with the other. “I haven't stabbed anyone since the last time I washed this thing, so it should be plenty clean,” he said as he used the same knife to spread some peanut butter onto the slice of bread, and he placed it on the plate for Jo. He prepared a piece for himself, and left the knife stuck in the peanut butter jar.

He sighed quietly as he began to eat, his eyes eventually drifting to that chocolate cake Jo had found. It appeared to be in surprisingly good condition, it even looked fairly moist... For a moment he considered that someone may be returning to this room soon, you know, to finish that delicious cake, but he figured they would cross that bridge when they came to it... For now they, Jo especially, needed to eat.

“So the only man you've ever loved turned out to be a cheating bastard, and now you want to kiss all over me,” he said as he finished off his slice of bread. “It sounds more like you're trying to get yourself into a rebound situation, and that's not what we need right now.” This probably wasn't what Jo wanted to be hearing right now, but Tommy just had to be that guy.

“We're both injured, you barely have the energy to keep your eyes open, and we have no idea when the next twisted carnival trope is gonna barge in and try to kill us,” he prepared and began to eat another piece of sourdough peanut butter bread, which turned out to be surprisingly tasty. “If we get out of this alive and you still wanna kiss on me, then we can put it back on the table. But until then, we need to focus on getting you out of here.”

It was no mistake or slip of the tongue when Tommy pointedly said “get you out of here.” He was already plotting his next step—his step beyond getting Jo out of this place.

[Jo Harris]

*Jo sat glaring at Tommy as he went about pulling the table over towards them and making her food. She heard the odd joke, quip or comment he made and she grunted when it seemed appropriate but the Tequila was making it more than a tad impossible for her to respond appropriately so she deemed it best to sit there quietly and eat. The peanut butter was gooey and thick and she enjoyed the sensation of using her tongue to clear the roof of her mouth and teeth after each delicious mouthful.


Soon the chocolate cake was before her, and she practically inhaled two large pieces, it tasted so good. Finally, she was full and felt as though she would burst. Sitting back on the lounge, she smiled over at Tommy, unaware of the chocolate crumbs which clung to her lips as her heavy lidded eyes appeared almost closed.


~That’s what I call a meal..~ she slurred as a burp found its way to the surface. ~Oopsies..~ she said as she wiped a hand across her mouth. ~Forgive me..~

Jo raised her arms above her neck, stretched and then tried to find a more comfortable position on the lounge. The excitement of the past few hours, combined with her full stomach and the comfortable lounge meant that she was more than ready for a nice long nap. She reached back and found the cushion, propping it under her head before she settled down and was finally still.


~Me going sleepies now..~ she whispered. ~ Night night..~


Jo was just about to fall asleep when she heard a sound which caused her left brow to rise quizzically although her eyes remained closed. The sound was still a far distance away, and she wasn’t sure if Tommy could have heard it. With her brow furrowing in concentration, Jo tried to figure out what the sound had been, just as she heard it again. This time the sound was a lot closer and unmistakably obvious as to what it was.


Jo’s eyes shot open and she sat upright far too quickly. ~Tommy!~ she hissed. ~Did you hear that?!~

The sound came again, this time right outside their door. It was impossible for them not to recognise the sound of a clowns honking horn and Jo’s eyes widened with fear as she gazed at Tommy, her lower lip trembling in fear. The sound of the horn, combined with the jumpsuit and grease paint she had found earlier, all came together in her head to form an overwhelming sense of fear.

~Uh.. I think we got company..~ she whispered, as she turned her head in just enough time to see the front doors handle slowly turning. *

[Boston]

Once they were finished eating, Tommy wiped his knife clean with a tissue he found in a box behind the couch, sure get every last bit of peanut butter off the blade--because nothing made a butterfly knife trickier to open than having the blade covered in peanut butter. He flipped it shut and pocketed it, and then held the box out for Jo.

"You got food all over your face," he said, but she was already going to sleep. "Well I suppose the leftovers on your face will make a fine snack when you wake up."

He lifted an eyebrow when she began reacting to a noise he couldn't hear yet, and he looked all over. When she asked if he heard the same noise he shut his eyes and listened, his ears twitching slightly as he strained his hearing. He nodded a moment later and stood, immediately drawing one of the revolvers from the dual holster at his back.

"Yeah, stay here," he instructed Jo as he approached the door, suddenly all business. He gripped his gun in both hands and kept his sights aimed at the door, already deciding to basically use Jo as bait as he positioned himself behind the door.

He had assumed that they wandered into a clown's dressing room after seeing all the makeup and outfits, but thought nothing of it. He wasn't particularly afraid of clowns, and wasn't expecting the one belonging to this particular dressing room to actually show up. Here he was, though, some clown about to barge in on him and Jo.

Tommy thumbed the hammer of his gun back and waited, quietly, as the door opened casually; just a clown entering his dressing room, nothing out of the ordinary, but then he saw Jo laying on his couch and a particularly decimated chocolate cake.

"What the heck, did you eat that whole cake by yourself!?" the clown shouted, appearing to be a rather normal, human clown. His white face and big red lips turned up in a constant smile, his big red nose the most prominent feature on his face. His big floppy shoes honked quietly with each step, and that's where Tommy struck.

As soon as the clown stepped into the room and became sufficiently distracted by Jo, Tommy slammed the door shut, and the clown turned around in surprise. Tommy stomped on the end of his big shoe to prevent him from fleeing as he brought the handle of his gun down onto the clown's nose, resulting in both a particularly cartoonish honk and a thick spurt of blood that streaked across his rather clowny jumpsuit.

The clown fell to the floor, stunned, and within moments Tommy had him tied to a chair--using one of his aforementioned business knots.

"You broke my nose!" the clown shouted when he regained his bearings.

Tommy holstered his gun and stood in front of the clown with his arms crossed, displaying an astounding lack of concern for the clown's injury, "Why has this carnival been taking kids?"

"What!? I don't know what you're talking about! Let me go, man, I need to see a doctor!" the clown came back, struggling against the ropes.

"You know exactly what we're talking about," he took a quick step toward the clown and lifted his leg in a high kick, missing by an inch--intentionally, of course, the sole of his boot landing against the back of the chair, knocking the clown onto his back. "You came through that mess out there just fine, so you're obviously in the know. I don't wanna torture you in front of the girl, so just tell me what's up."

"What mess!? There's nothing out there but snot-nosed kids who think it's fun to throw pretzels at you!" the clown insisted, fear and pain evident in his voice.

Tommy narrowed his eyes and drew his gun, and the clown began struggling harder against the restraints. He rocked the chair back and forth, and from Jo's vantage point, she could see the veins just below his skin were slowly becoming an unnatural orange color.

Tommy turned and walked to the door, cocking the hammer back in case anything should come bounding in as he opened it up and peeked outside. Much to his surprise, everything looked pretty normal. The sun was shining, birds were singing, rides were running, and people seemed to be having a generally good time.

Tommy shut the door and turned back to Jo, "It's a normal-ass day out there..." He couldn't see the clown's increasingly orange veins, of course, or as they began to bubble just beneath his skin.

[Jo Harris]

*At the sight of the clown standing in the open doorway, Jo’s heavy lidded eyes widened in fear as she began to try to scramble backwards on the lounge. Nothing in this world scared her more than clowns, and although this one appeared relatively normal, the fact that he was still a clown caused the blood to freeze in her veins while her recently consumed meal and Tequila churned in her stomach.


As the clown exclaimed his surprise at seeing Jo and his devoured cake, Jo stammered as she tried to speak. ~Uh… er… it… was… delicious?~ she choked as Tommy made his move and hit the clown on the nose with his gun.

Jo turned her head away quickly, but not quickly enough to miss the blood spurting all over his hideous clown costume. Only when the clown was safely tied up did Jo begin to lower her screaming legs over the edge of the lounge. As Tommy began to ask the clown his questions, Jo rose painfully to her feet and edged slowly towards the pair. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the veins in the clown’s neck begin to turn a strange orange colour. Tommy seemed oblivious to this unexpected development as he moved towards the door and opened it.


Jo felt her mouth go completely dry as her eyes remained locked on the clown who was struggling against his restraints as his veins turned an even darker orange. Trying to speak, Jo found her voice coming out as a squeak just as Tommy closed the door and told her that everything appeared to be normal outside. Clearing her throat, she pointed at the clown with a shaking hand.


~Well.. things definitely aren’t normal in here…. look at his veins… Oh my God…. are they BUBBLING?!?!~

Jo quickly closed the gap between herself and Tommy, reaching out to tug on his arm.


~Let’s get the hell out of here Tommy… I don’t like the look of this…~ she wrinkled her nose as a foul stench began to fill the dressing room. ~Or the smell of this!~ she gasped before reaching up to pinch her nose.

Glancing back fearfully at the clown, she was surprised to see that he had stopped struggling and was now sitting silently and watching the pair, a sick grin on his face which now appeared to be melting on his skin like bubbling wax. Jo began to drift closer to the door and was just reaching out to grasp the doorknob as a loud knocking began on the other side of the door. Gasping in shock, Jo snatched her hand away from the door as she heard a loud voice bellow ~You in there Jack? We got a show to put on Bozo!~


The knocking came again, louder and more severe this time as Jo turned her wide scared eyes towards Tommy. ~You don’t suppose there is another way out of here, do you?~ she whispered. *