Levi's apple

The carnival was a bizarre tapestry of wonder and darkness, where the workers, dressed in garb as peculiar as their roles, moved like specters among the attractions. It was hard not for Leviathan to explore and observe. 

The ringmaster, cloaked in a coat of raven feathers, commanded the attention of all, his eyes a piercing silver that seemed to see through one's very soul. “Dare you try your luck at the Duck Pond?” He called to passing shiji, gesturing to the small pool beside him. Floating in the pool was a vast assortment of the afformentioned ducks. Their bodies perfectly classical, their heads had been a bit twisted. Shrunken heads adorned the bodies of what should have been cute rubber figures. Some look dazed, while others looked angry. One even shrieked at a participating gust “Maybe you'll win a special prize, if you're lucky!”

The shiji attending the carnival were adorned in costumes that defied the imagination. There were those from the ethereal, decorated with elaborately constructed wings of gossamer and halos of soft light. Leviathan hadn't gotten close enough to see the craft of the halos, but he could assume the luminescence came from some heir of magic. Where others came to the grotesque, with crooked horns and cloaks woven from the night itself. Painting their faces in twisted figures that accentuated natural features into gnarled and mangled appearance. Each costume was a story, a fragment of the wearer's essence, brought to life in the eerie glow of the carnival's lanterns.

Each game booth was a portal to another world, so it seemed. They each offered a challenge to the mind or the spirit, so far as Leviathan had been concerned. 

He had wandered past a Maze of Mirrors, hidden behind the veil of mystery and ominously protruding constructs meant to resemble teeth. As if one would walk into the jaws of a monstrous creature to be able to entire the Maze hidden behind the wafting smoke. The petit shiji dressed as a gesture swung on a swing near the entrance to the Maze. Beckoning patrons to explore where one's reflection revealed hidden truths. 

Leviathan lingered at the Carousel of Lost Dreams, where the steeds whispered secrets as they spun. Inaudible to those beyond the reins of their steeds, hissing across the air to those nearby with a chill that sent most guests shuffling away with haste. Curious, but not foolish, Leviathan pressed further into his journey around the carnival. 

Another booth had revealed an assortment of black, orange, purple and green colored balloons hanging from a cork board. A simple game of darts, no? “Pop one, win a trick or a treat! Either way, it will be highly entertaining!” The simplicity was enough to draw visitors in to spend their coin and play their game. Leviathan sneered witnessing the pop, only to discover the shroud of spectral bats that rushed from where the balloon had once been. 

Leviathan couldn't help but roll his eyes and move on. Another voice called, grasping his attention with the flick of an ear. “Wrap your friends in toilet paper, win a prize, folks! But beware, if the paper tears, the mummy might just come alive!” His brows creased together, contemplating just what sort of magic could have been at play in such an otherwise silly and simple game on the surface. 

The scent of rotten fish permeated the air with only a few steps taken further into the carnival, Leviathan's nose turned up in disgust. His attention darted around before settling upon a booth set up to look like a fishing dock. A simple rod set upon the ancient wood, and noticing his attention the ragged shiji position there spoke. “Care to try your luck fishing for gold? Just toss the line behind the booth,” the ragged one gestured upward to the opening, the rest of the booth disappeared behind veils of shadowed curtains. 

Leviathan found himself shaking his head, not with that smell wafting from behind the curtain. He continued on his way without so much as a word. “Step right up to the Sucker Pull, a game where chance meets the chills!” Amidst the eerie glow of jack-o'-lanterns, players were drawn to a mysterious patch of shimmering mist on the counter of a booth. Wrapped in the night's shadow, beckoning with the temptation of treats sticking out of the Mist. The host of this particular both had explained that hidden within the mist, some of the lollipop sticks were colored. If one chose wisely, only the fortunate few would draw the lucky suckers and unearth a prize that whispers of the Carn-Evil spirits. “What could go wrong with just pulling a lollipop? You're sure to have fun!” 

Contemplation argued logical considerations, the hefty blanket of magic saturating the entire carnival unraveled a near endless list of possibilities. Pushing forward, Leviathan found a booth he lingered at for some time. Perhaps it was simply some interest towards fates and fortunes that caused him to stay and watch. The Tarot booth beckoned to those both spiritually inclined or otherwise. It’s entrance draped in black velvet, adorned with the glint of candlelight. Inside, a table held a deck of tarot cards, each card more ominous than the last. “The cards determine your fate. If you pull good ones, I'll even give you a prize.” The Fool stood at the precipice of an unknown journey. The Tower loomed with impending upheaval. Death signified transformation, a chilling reminder of the cycle of endings and new beginnings. Participants drew only two cards, their hearts pounding with the weight of the unknown so hard that even Leviathan could hear it from his looming perch. The results of the game were as mysterious as the cards themselves. Some leave with a sense of foreboding, for their only prize was the fortune read from the cards to them by the mistress of the tarot, others with a cryptic message to ponder, while few and far between were given that special prize. The game was not just about winning or losing; it was a dance with destiny, a flirtation with the future, under the watchful eyes of the spirits that roamed freely.

The booths were each draped in velvets as dark as the void, with signs painted in a luminescent script that promised thrills and chills for each particular game. Some, of such, projected clear expectations of the games hosted beneath. Others hung on the temptation of mystery to draw more customers in. 

Leviathan found himself drawn to another booth shrouded in mist, where a game of apple bobbing awaited. There was a scowl that pulled as his maw upon observing the apples floating in… Questionably fishy smelling water? His nose turned at the thought of the Aquatics dunking their heads in, narrowing his gaze suspiciously upon the apples. The barrel was a cauldron of mystery, filled with apples of colors not found in the natural world: midnight blue with swirls of silver, emerald green with flecks of gold, crimson red as deep as blood, and an array of many more. The shiji running the booth was simple in appearance, yet his eyes held a depth that belied his role. He instructed Leviathan with a voice that was both melodic and haunting, speaking of the rules of the game as if reciting an ancient incantation.

As if Leviathan didn't understand the simple rules of such a game… Not that he had ever actually played it, either. The only reason he was participating was simply for the fact he didn't want to continue to stick out like a sore thumb. Who visited a carnival and did not partake in the festivities? The first game had a rather adverse effect, the resulting transformation had been anything but pleasant. He could still feel his skin crawling, and it almost made him snarl. For far too long Leviathan had felt as though he was already a monster, how ironic to truly become one. Even though temporary, the endeavor wpd weigh upon his consciousness for years to come. Dredge in the fear of losing himself at any waking moment if he simply could not maintain control.. 

“Aye. Buddy. You gonna stand there all night or play? Bob or dip out!” The games host chastised him for his hesitation, presumably from the idea of the potential flavors within his apple barrel. Leviathan's attention snapped to the quirky game host, just barely kept himself from baring teeth, and instead merely turned up his nose with a heavy snort. Surely no one would care if he just took a peek into Bob’s mind? No one would ever know. Spoilers: They all suck. 

Leviathan huffed before closing his eyes to dunk his eye in. Peering under the water until he spotted the one he wanted. It must have looked weird with the way he wiggled, but a bit of Telekinesis helped him, too. Who was gonna know? 

When his teeth sank into the sink, he yanked his head up and pulled an apple with a canvas where the color of twilight skies glimmered from the skin. A rich, deep violet that sparkled to life, brushed with streaks of starlight white, resembling the first twinkles of evening stars. This cosmic tableau transitioned within the flickering light of lanterns and candles into a rich maroon, akin to the last glows of a sunset. Interwoven with shimmering rivers of gold that popped against the darker shades of red, recalling the luxurious flow of warm sunlight cast into the clouds of dusk. The medley of colors created a dynamic visual symphony, evoking a sense of depth and movement that was both majestic and ethereal.

The flavor was an explosion of sensations, though Leviathan would protest this was not anything beneficial. The amusement from other shiji passing by was clear as the grin on the game host’s stupid muzzle. It was sweet with a hint of darkness at first, a taste that spoke of forbidden knowledge and the thrill of the unknown. Soon, assaulting his taste buds as the violent shift to suns seering holes into his mouth and emphasized with the grueling taste of the forbidden Yellow snow. 

Leviathan snapped his head to one side to spit the apple out, taking every fiber of his being not to lose the contents of his stomach while his eyes watered and his nose ran. 

“Come on now, wa’s it taste like, then?!”

“Purple carrots and spiced rum, changes to ghost peppers and fucking PISS.” Leviathan choked on the words as they fumbled out of his mouth, covering his mouth at the gurgling gas bubble that crept up his esophagus with the threat of more to follow.