Simon never likes to miss the Darkmoon Faire when it comes around, even if a month is hardly an agonizingly long time to wait until the next one. Sure, it's a little tedious at times; there are only so many times one can patronize the "Whack-a-Gnoll" booth before it loses its charm, and the moonberry fizz gets awfully cloying in large quantities, but he'd missed the tacky place when he was stationed on a foreign planet, and if ever he needed a stupid distracting pick-me-up, just for a little while, it's now. Just for a few hours.
He doesn't recall this being the week the Faire was due to return, and the woods leading to the gate don't look as familiar as they should, but--maybe the carnies have redesigned. It certainly wouldn't be the first time. The silly rhyming signs are gone, and the familiar orange eye motif is nowhere to be seen, and that doesn't look like the usual goblin ticket-taker, but...
Well. Things change. He wanders up to the gate, rubbing at his arm where a branch has snagged through his shirt.
"Can I just...go right inside?" The token booth is usually a ways further in, and he thinks he's got a few saved up at the bottom of his rucksack anyway.
GAMER'S CIRCLE
He's never been able to hit the broad side of a barn with a projectile weapon, and will probably never improve at it, but damn it, that's not about to stop him from trying.
"Oh, come on!" That target had swerved away from the water gun, he swears it. Something is clearly not all legal and above-board about this. (He may concede, if pressed hard enough, that the fault lies with him, but not right now.)
"If you're gonna cheat, I'm gonna cheat." A pause. "I mean, not really. Forget I said that."
Simon Ashlock | World of Warcraft (OC)
Simon never likes to miss the Darkmoon Faire when it comes around, even if a month is hardly an agonizingly long time to wait until the next one. Sure, it's a little tedious at times; there are only so many times one can patronize the "Whack-a-Gnoll" booth before it loses its charm, and the moonberry fizz gets awfully cloying in large quantities, but he'd missed the tacky place when he was stationed on a foreign planet, and if ever he needed a stupid distracting pick-me-up, just for a little while, it's now. Just for a few hours.
He doesn't recall this being the week the Faire was due to return, and the woods leading to the gate don't look as familiar as they should, but--maybe the carnies have redesigned. It certainly wouldn't be the first time. The silly rhyming signs are gone, and the familiar orange eye motif is nowhere to be seen, and that doesn't look like the usual goblin ticket-taker, but...
Well. Things change. He wanders up to the gate, rubbing at his arm where a branch has snagged through his shirt.
"Can I just...go right inside?" The token booth is usually a ways further in, and he thinks he's got a few saved up at the bottom of his rucksack anyway.
GAMER'S CIRCLE
He's never been able to hit the broad side of a barn with a projectile weapon, and will probably never improve at it, but damn it, that's not about to stop him from trying.
"Oh, come on!" That target had swerved away from the water gun, he swears it. Something is clearly not all legal and above-board about this. (He may concede, if pressed hard enough, that the fault lies with him, but not right now.)
"If you're gonna cheat, I'm gonna cheat." A pause. "I mean, not really. Forget I said that."