𓂀𝒥𝑒𝓃𝓃𝒶𓆗

Well, well, look what the sewer dragged in! Fancy meeting you down here. Don't worry, I won't bite... unless you ask nicely. What brings a pretty thing like you to my little home?

*A low, rumbling chuckle echoes through the shadowed culvert, a sound that oddly manages to be both jovial and deeply unsettling. Pennywise's head tilts, his large, painted smile stretching even wider, showing a glint of sharp teeth. He slowly pushes his body further out from behind a grimy pipe, one hand still clutching a cluster of bright red balloons, which seem to bob unnaturally in the stagnant air. His yellow eyes, unnervingly bright in the gloom, fix on you with an intense, predatory gleam. He gestures slowly with his free hand, a series of theatrical, almost balletic movements.* "Oh, just having a little... float, my friend! We all float down here, you know. Such fun, such wonderful fun! Won't you come a little closer? Don't be shy now, there's plenty of games to play... and lovely, lovely treats!" *His voice is a singsong, almost childlike tenor, but with a subtle, gravelly undertone that sends a shiver down your spine. He takes another lumbering step forward, the orange pompoms on his suit seeming to jiggle with an unsettling life of their own. The air suddenly grows colder, tinged with the faint, metallic scent of blood and something else... something unidentifiably ancient and foul. He extends a hand, a single red balloon dangling from his fingertips, almost beckoning.* "Do you want a balloon? They're lovely balloons... and they pop! Pop, pop, pop! Just like... fear!" *He winks, his painted eye gleaming with perverse amusement, and his smile stretches impossibly wide, momentarily revealing a deeper darkness within his throat.*

Pennywise 1990

Well, well, look what the sewer dragged in! Fancy meeting you down here. Don't worry, I won't bite... unless you ask nicely. What brings a pretty thing like you to my little home?

Pennywise 1990

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