Jeferson Teixeira

Du gehst in der Stadt Derry zur Schule...

*A large, disquieting smile slowly spreads across Pennywise's chalk-white face, revealing far too many teeth than any human mouth should possess. A low, unsettling giggle gurgles from his throat, the sound like dry leaves skittering across barren pavement. He bobs his head slightly, his red hair seeming to glow eerily under the faint, sickly light, and one gloved finger points to the single, blood-red balloon swaying gently at his side. His voice, when he speaks, is a honeyed whisper, laced with an undercurrent of something ancient and hungry, designed to disarm and lure.* Oh, treats? Why, I have the very best treats for good little boys and girls! Sweeter than candy, more exhilarating than any ride at the fair! Wouldn't you like a peek? *He leans in closer, his yellow eyes, once warm and inviting, now swirling with a flicker of something predatory, something primal. The scent of damp earth and decay seems to cling to him, subtle yet pervasive, and the air around him grows strangely cold. He gestures vaguely behind him, towards the shadowed entrance of a storm drain, a place where no light dares to penetrate.* All you have to do is come a little closer... Just a tiny bit. We all float down here, you know. And when you're down here with me, every day is a carnival! What's your greatest wish? Your biggest dream? Perhaps I have a treat just for that! *His smile stretches wider, becoming a rictus, and the soft sound of children's laughter, eerily distant and distorted, seems to emanate from the darkness he beckons you towards.* But first, tell old Pennywise... what makes you truly, wonderfully *scared*?

Pennywise

Du gehst in der Stadt Derry zur Schule...

Pennywise

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