CLOWNMILK
(#47927959)
We're getting hungry here, Charley.
Familiar
Marbled Serpenta
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Earth.
Male Tundra
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
4.42 m
Wingspan
4.53 m
Weight
432.95 kg
Genetics
Rose
Poison
Poison
Banana
Trail
Trail
Green
Capsule
Capsule
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 1 Tundra
EXP: 0 / 245
STR
7
AGI
6
DEF
7
QCK
6
INT
6
VIT
6
MND
7
Lineage
Parents
- none
Offspring
- none
Biography
Walkin' Happy
Skater's Waltz
What D'Ya Mean You Lost Your Dog?
Upside Down Cake
Entrance of the Gladiators
Officer of the Day
American Patrol
by Jharaitza
ROLL UP!
ROLL UP!
Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the greatest show on earth! Welcome to Herman Fuller's Circus of the Disquieting!
The Circus is, first and foremost, a show, THE show. Those in its employment live to perform, to regale the audiences with their talents. When the circus comes to town, no one quite understands where they came from, or how they managed to put up that tent without anyone seeing it. Officials are baffled by the sudden existence of a bigtop and the associated caravans, trailers and wagons, but strangely enough the paperwork always seems to be in order.
And of course, once they attend the show, they lose any misgivings they might have. Because, after all, it is the greatest show on earth.
The circus treats its performers, be they tightrope walkers consisting only of legs, tentacled things that gibber and squeal, or clowns with the tears of a thousand dead stars in their eyes, as valuable assets. The circus is a family, and family stays together.
So come watch the show, come feel the magic! After all, what do you have to lose?
Inspiration
In the morning, the news comes in.
The circus is coming to town.
In the glow of the firelight, tucked in layers of warm linen, the hatchling pores over every line and grainy photo on the playbill.
--
[A precocious spiral ringmaster grins back at her from the bright red page, his gilded body stretched horribly to make the border of the advert.]
17:00 - The Mutating Magician Melinda & Her Abhorrent Acrobats
18:00 - Leslie’s Loathsome Lionsnakes
19:00 - Clowns
20:00 - Scully’s Sideshow of Sornieth’s Sickest
22:00 - Tent closes
23:00 - Rides & Games close
--
She gets lost outside the bigtop. Everything is shuttering, so it must be late. Neon lights are switching off, their droning hum giving way to a silence so empty it rings in her ears. The wind is getting colder.
A long trail of performers’ wagons is lined up haphazardly some distance behind the tent, and she weaves between them, trying to find a dragon to point her home safe, when she sees him.
A mottle of pink and blue, his thick ruff pristine around his neck. He smells like cotton candy and copper.
“Excuse me,” she says, stopping right at his feet. “I really liked your show. The song thing was funny. How do you do that? Were you hiding a music box in your fur?”
He’s smiling, but he doesn’t say anything. Just watches her with his perfectly round, empty eyes, like holes punched into paper. It doesn’t look right. Maybe he’s wearing a special mask.
Instead of an answer, the music starts up again. Meandering and hypnotic, like hearing a broken clock tick sideways to midnight. It makes her want to lean right into his filthy fur–why is it stained? She’s suddenly so hungry.
“Can you tell me how to get back to the entrance?”
Never not smiling. Always the full two rows of grinning teeth. His jaw opens so wide she might want to scream, but that music means everything will be okay. They’re at the circus, after all. Fun and games, and little hatchlings never get lost here. His throat trills, and she watches something red slide out, hitting the dusty ground soundlessly.
It’s a perfect balloon bogsneak.
“Wow,” she whispers. “For me?”
The music turns jovial and delighted, a flute chirping gleefully. The balloon dragon waddles across the dirt and nudges her paw, turning its neck towards the entrance. It’s guiding her there.
“Thank you, mister! You’re the best clown ever.”
The bogsneak creation is already on its way, in something of a hurry, so she has to run to keep up, but the music can be heard from a long way off.
As she turns to scamper after it, she’s sure she can see her heroic clown dripping red from his smiling mouth, melting the dirt into mud underneath him.
by hannibals
Skater's Waltz
What D'Ya Mean You Lost Your Dog?
Upside Down Cake
Entrance of the Gladiators
Officer of the Day
American Patrol
by Jharaitza
ROLL UP!
ROLL UP!
Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the greatest show on earth! Welcome to Herman Fuller's Circus of the Disquieting!
The Circus is, first and foremost, a show, THE show. Those in its employment live to perform, to regale the audiences with their talents. When the circus comes to town, no one quite understands where they came from, or how they managed to put up that tent without anyone seeing it. Officials are baffled by the sudden existence of a bigtop and the associated caravans, trailers and wagons, but strangely enough the paperwork always seems to be in order.
And of course, once they attend the show, they lose any misgivings they might have. Because, after all, it is the greatest show on earth.
The circus treats its performers, be they tightrope walkers consisting only of legs, tentacled things that gibber and squeal, or clowns with the tears of a thousand dead stars in their eyes, as valuable assets. The circus is a family, and family stays together.
So come watch the show, come feel the magic! After all, what do you have to lose?
Inspiration
In the morning, the news comes in.
The circus is coming to town.
In the glow of the firelight, tucked in layers of warm linen, the hatchling pores over every line and grainy photo on the playbill.
--
[A precocious spiral ringmaster grins back at her from the bright red page, his gilded body stretched horribly to make the border of the advert.]
HERMAN FULLER’S CIRCUS OF THE DISQUIETING
A FEARSOME NIGHT OF FANTASY FOR ALL AGES!
OUR 450th ANNIVERSARY!
New Attractions - New Performances - New Games
Join us for a night of appalling pageantry and pleasure like you have never experienced!
Main Stage Programme
16:00 - Tent opensA FEARSOME NIGHT OF FANTASY FOR ALL AGES!
OUR 450th ANNIVERSARY!
New Attractions - New Performances - New Games
Join us for a night of appalling pageantry and pleasure like you have never experienced!
Main Stage Programme
17:00 - The Mutating Magician Melinda & Her Abhorrent Acrobats
18:00 - Leslie’s Loathsome Lionsnakes
19:00 - Clowns
20:00 - Scully’s Sideshow of Sornieth’s Sickest
22:00 - Tent closes
23:00 - Rides & Games close
--
She gets lost outside the bigtop. Everything is shuttering, so it must be late. Neon lights are switching off, their droning hum giving way to a silence so empty it rings in her ears. The wind is getting colder.
A long trail of performers’ wagons is lined up haphazardly some distance behind the tent, and she weaves between them, trying to find a dragon to point her home safe, when she sees him.
A mottle of pink and blue, his thick ruff pristine around his neck. He smells like cotton candy and copper.
“Excuse me,” she says, stopping right at his feet. “I really liked your show. The song thing was funny. How do you do that? Were you hiding a music box in your fur?”
He’s smiling, but he doesn’t say anything. Just watches her with his perfectly round, empty eyes, like holes punched into paper. It doesn’t look right. Maybe he’s wearing a special mask.
Instead of an answer, the music starts up again. Meandering and hypnotic, like hearing a broken clock tick sideways to midnight. It makes her want to lean right into his filthy fur–why is it stained? She’s suddenly so hungry.
“Can you tell me how to get back to the entrance?”
Never not smiling. Always the full two rows of grinning teeth. His jaw opens so wide she might want to scream, but that music means everything will be okay. They’re at the circus, after all. Fun and games, and little hatchlings never get lost here. His throat trills, and she watches something red slide out, hitting the dusty ground soundlessly.
It’s a perfect balloon bogsneak.
“Wow,” she whispers. “For me?”
The music turns jovial and delighted, a flute chirping gleefully. The balloon dragon waddles across the dirt and nudges her paw, turning its neck towards the entrance. It’s guiding her there.
“Thank you, mister! You’re the best clown ever.”
The bogsneak creation is already on its way, in something of a hurry, so she has to run to keep up, but the music can be heard from a long way off.
As she turns to scamper after it, she’s sure she can see her heroic clown dripping red from his smiling mouth, melting the dirt into mud underneath him.
by hannibals
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This dragon doesn't eat Insects.
This dragon doesn't eat Meat.
This dragon doesn't eat Seafood.
Plant stocks are currently depleted.
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Exalting CLOWNMILK to the service of the Lightweaver will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.
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