08∙00∙00 ☇ action.

[saidrepent]

[Ever since that unfortunate curse from last week, Raymond has been doing his best to avoid the network completely; he doesn't know if he can put up with any further ridicule. He would be doing his best to avoid people in general, as well, but after the worsened ticking from this past week, he's put himself in the habit of staying out among the crowd as much as he possibly can.

Just in time for the already large crowds to swell this weekend, it seems.

He looks out from his spot near the fountain with a heavy sigh. With any luck no one will notice him, but he hasn't counted on luck in quite some time.]

(OOC: open to fourth-wall harassment, hit him up!)

Comments

[clownishly]

[First the red nosed white faced beast isn't there. Then a large lumbering armored whozzit passes by and suddenly the red nosed white faced beast is there. Nobody else seems to acknowledge him, no one seems to see the clown in bright colors carrying balloons. But he notices Raymond Leon and he's looking right at him from across the street.]

[saidrepent]

[Well.

That's more than mildly unsettling.

Still, Raymond isn't about to purposefully acknowledge him from all the way over here. If the clown wants to start something, that's his prerogative.]

[clownishly]

[IS IT STARING CONTEST TIME? IT SOUNDS LIKE IT IS.]

[saidrepent]

[Maybe. But Raymond doesn't last too long before making a face and looking elsewhere.

He doesn't even have a particular opinion on clowns, but this is just creepy.]

[clownishly]

5...4...

[That's a countdown, Raymond, and with each number a balloon pops loud and clear. Clear only to Raymond anyway.]

[saidrepent]

[Okay, that's bizarre enough to catch his attention. He wonders why no one else seems to notice; perhaps the other people of the City are simply more used to this sort of thing than he is. But then again...

Just what the hell is going on?]

[clownishly]

3...2...1!

[When the final balloon pops the clown sort of jolts and flails before dropping to the ground, 'dead.']

[saidrepent]

[What.

There's no way anyone would just keep walking by after something like that, right? Something definitely isn't right here. At worst, it could be some bizarre trap.

Still...

He draws his gun out — just in case — and approaches. He has to find out what the hell is going on.]

[clownishly]

[Come on Raymond you've seen a scary movie once or twice right? You know the second you get too close to the body it's just going to pop back up and getcha.]

[saidrepent]

[He hasn't, actually, so he doesn't. But that lack of knowledge isn't going to keep him from putting his gun away as he draws near.]

You all right?

[clownishly]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

[RIGHT UP IN YOUR FACE, RAYMOND. Before the clown POPS too in a loud bang, leaving shreds of bright clothes and hair on the ground. Clown no more.]

[saidrepent]

[OH JESUS GOD—

Raymond is sent back with a shout, gun automatically swinging around to aim at the thing dead-on — but it's already too late.

What the fuck just happened?

He doesn't have much time to think on it, though; people in the street are already giving him odd looks. He eyes his gun for a moment before putting it away, pushes a hand through his hair, and takes a deep breath as he turns to walk away. He needs to get out of here. (And ask Dr. McCoy if those meds include hallucinations as a side effect, because really, what the fuck.)]