View allAll Photos Tagged evilclown
The Dark Circus
This circus has been on the road a very long time*
*(scrawled on an old old wall in the souk of Marrakech)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Db0qiCWNLsI
Stuff
Evil Clown Animesh by Surprised Cerise
(( HS )) ARTEMIS AVATAR
(( HS )) CLOWN AVATAR
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
www.youtube.com/watch?v=SND3v0i9uhE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You start off by pretending
You're a dancer with grace
You wiggle till they're
Giggling all over the place
And then you get a great big custard pie in the face
Make 'em laugh
Make 'em laugh
Make 'em laugh
~ from MAKE 'EM LAUGH - Donald O'Connor, Soundtrack "Singing in the Rain"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Model: Skye McLeod Fairywren
Bento Mesh Head: Catwa Lilly
Bento Mesh Body: Maitreya Lara
Hair: Proud Mary by Analog Dog
Outfit: Evil Clown by irrISIStible (corset, skirt, top, outfit pom poms, boots, face&body appliers, collar, frills, hat; also hair & balloons not pictured here) available at the irrISIStible main store.
Dark Circus (Dark Tent B) parasol by Yokai
Nightmare Rings Set: (Yummy)
POSE: Burlesque Poses/Cane Pose 6 by Kirin
SIM: *Everwinter* Post Apocalyptic Theme Park @ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Elven%20Mist/242/122/26
We haven't been introduced, the name is Samhain, but since we are going to be friends tonight, you can call me Sam...
-❥Maitreya Body
-❥LeL Head Kaya
Featuring EvoShop 60L$ Weekend Sales available Halloween 29-31 Only:
-❥ HORL - Alice Outfit
-❥ ..::MONAMI::.. EVERYTHING TATTOO BOM
-❥[ R3 ] Face Tattoo 18FT. 1910 - 28
-❥ [C] Animesh Follower - Evil Clown
www.instagram.com/evoshopevents/
#secondlife #evoshop
and the Murder Clown
Location: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Halloweentown/106/54/22
Lighting by: Clussy. maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Chill%20Bay/39/10/2852
The theme at The Willows was "Bates Motel" - Addy showed up in this evil clown outfit and I just happened to capture this action shot. I love it
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On a crisp Halloween night, Rachel, a spirited redhead with a love for all things autumn, set out for a fun night of trick-or-treating. Clad in a whimsical witch’s costume and sipping on a spiced latte, she relished the familiar sights and sounds of the season. Little did she know, her evening was about to take a turn for the eerie.
As she wandered down Trick or Treat Street, Rachel’s eyes widened at the sight of a house she had never noticed before. It was dark and foreboding and called Willow Manor, with twisted trees casting long shadows across the lawn. Outside, two clowns stood menacingly. One held a sign that read “Free Hugs!” — a proposition Rachel had no intention of accepting. The other clown, even more sinister, dangled a terrified little child upside down by his feet.
Rachel’s heart pounded in her chest. She was scared to death, but the sight of the helpless child stirred a fierce determination within her. She couldn’t just walk away.
Taking a deep breath, Rachel approached the clowns. “Hey! Let him go!” she shouted, trying to keep her voice steady.
The clowns turned their painted faces towards her, their grins widening. “Oh, look! Another volunteer!” the one with the sign cackled.
Rachel’s mind raced. She needed a plan. Spotting a pile of candy on the porch, she had an idea. “How about a trade?” she suggested, holding up her bag of treats. “I’ll give you all my candy and my spiced latte if you let him go.”
The clowns exchanged glances, their interest piqued. “Candy AND a spiced latte, you say?” the clown holding the boy mused. “All right, but you have to come closer.”
Rachel’s hands trembled as she stepped forward, her bag of candy & spiced latte held out as an offering. The clown with the sign snatched it greedily, while the other one dropped the boy to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and ran to Rachel, clutching her hand tightly.
“Now, run!” Rachel whispered urgently. Together, they bolted down the street, not daring to look back until they were safely away from the haunted house.
Breathless and shaken, Rachel and the boy finally stopped. “Thank you,” he gasped, tears streaming down his face. “You saved me.”
Rachel smiled, her fear melting away. “You’re welcome. Let’s get you home.”
As they walked, Rachel couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. She had faced her fears and come out stronger. Halloween might never be the same for her, but she knew one thing for sure — she was braver than she had ever imagined.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written using AI with my details
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bento Mesh Head: LeLutka Briannon EVO-X
Bento Mesh Body: Maitreya Lara
Skin: Caroline by [Glam Affair]
Halloween Ensemble (incl. skin tatt, all clothes, prim bits, BOM & applier material, hat, boots) by irrISIStible (now @ store)
Stormchaser Eyes: .lovelysweet.
Nightmare Rings: (Yummy)
Clockwork Heart Choker: :BAMSE:
Zoe Hair: DOUX
Animated SMOKING SKELETON PET (worn on shoulder): Halloween Warehouse
Spiced Latte: :::ChicChica:::
SIM: Trick or Treat Street @ maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Lusca/204/28/58
Generated By ChatGPT .
---
Il existe des nuits où les rires ne sont plus des promesses de bonheur, où les lumières des fêtes foraines dissimulent des secrets plus anciens que les villes elles-mêmes, et où les ballons colorés ne célèbrent plus l'innocence, mais annoncent l'arrivée de quelque chose que personne ne devrait jamais rencontrer.
Cette nuit-là, sous une lune pâle suspendue au-dessus d'une forêt d'automne, les portes d'un étrange parc d'attractions s'ouvrent pour la première fois depuis vingt-sept ans.
Sur une grande affiche éclairée par des ampoules vacillantes, quelques mots accueillent les visiteurs :
« Carnival of Nightmares — Dare to Enter. »
Le Carnaval des Cauchemars.
Osez entrer.
Au-delà des grilles rouillées, une grande roue immobile découpe sa silhouette contre les nuages noirs. Des chapiteaux rouges et blancs bordent une allée de pavés humides, tandis que des guirlandes lumineuses oscillent doucement au-dessus des flaques où se reflètent les dernières couleurs de l'automne.
Tout semble prêt pour une fête.
Pourtant, aucune musique ne retentit.
Aucun enfant ne court entre les attractions.
Aucun forain ne se tient derrière les comptoirs illuminés.
Seul un rire lointain traverse parfois les ténèbres.
Un rire aigu, presque enfantin, qui s'achève toujours sur une note profondément inhumaine.
Car le carnaval possède un maître.
Et son nom est Pennywise.
Certains l'appellent Grippe-Sou, le clown dansant.
D'autres préfèrent ne jamais prononcer son nom.
Il apparaît au détour d'une allée, vêtu d'un ancien costume de clown couleur d'ivoire, dont les volants poussiéreux semblent avoir traversé plusieurs siècles. Trois pompons rouges ornent son torse, tandis que sa chevelure flamboyante s'élève autour de son visage comme une couronne de flammes sauvages.
Sa peau blafarde porte les marques d'un maquillage qui paraît presque gravé dans la chair.
Ses lèvres dessinent un sourire trop large.
Et ses yeux jaunes, brillants d'une intelligence étrangère à toute humanité, contemplent les visiteurs avec une curiosité terrifiante.
Dans sa main flottent des ballons rouges, bleus, violets et orangés.
Ils ne bougent pas avec le vent.
Ils semblent attendre.
Car Pennywise ne possède pas seulement le pouvoir d'effrayer.
Il connaît les peurs que les hommes cachent derrière leurs sourires.
Il entend les souvenirs que l'on refuse de raconter.
Il reconnaît les cauchemars oubliés, les angoisses d'enfance et ces petites terreurs silencieuses qui demeurent parfois enfouies au fond d'une âme pendant toute une vie.
Et dans son carnaval, chaque attraction est une porte ouverte sur l'une de ces peurs.
La grande roue permet d'apercevoir des lieux qui n'existent plus.
Le palais des miroirs révèle des visages que personne ne reconnaît.
Le carrousel tourne parfois à l'envers, ramenant ses passagers vers des souvenirs qu'ils auraient préféré laisser disparaître.
Quant au train fantôme, nul ne sait où il conduit.
Certains affirment qu'il traverse les profondeurs de la terre.
D'autres prétendent qu'il ne quitte jamais réellement son quai.
Mais tous ceux qui ont entendu ses wagons grincer dans l'obscurité racontent la même chose : derrière les rideaux noirs, une voix murmure leur prénom.
Et cette voix ressemble toujours à celle d'une personne qu'ils ont aimée.
Pourtant, ce soir, Pennywise ne se cache pas dans les profondeurs d'une attraction.
Il attend au milieu de l'allée principale.
Son immense sourire dévoile des dents acérées, tandis que sa main se tend lentement vers un visiteur invisible.
« Approche… »
Sa voix est douce, presque accueillante.
« Le spectacle va commencer. »
Les lanternes vacillent.
La grande roue émet un long gémissement métallique.
Un ballon rouge se détache du bouquet et s'élève doucement vers la lune.
Puis un second.
Puis un troisième.
Et soudain, les haut-parleurs poussiéreux du carnaval se mettent à diffuser une vieille mélodie de fête foraine, déformée par les années, ralentie jusqu'à devenir une plainte lugubre.
Pennywise incline la tête.
Son sourire s'élargit.
Car il sait quelque chose que les visiteurs ignorent encore.
Le Carnaval des Cauchemars n'est pas un endroit que l'on découvre par hasard.
Il apparaît uniquement à ceux dont la peur a déjà entrouvert la porte.
Chaque vingt-septième automne, lorsque les feuilles prennent la couleur du sang séché et que les nuits deviennent plus longues, le carnaval renaît quelque part entre les forêts et les villes oubliées.
Ses chapiteaux surgissent de la brume.
Ses lanternes se rallument.
Ses affiches retrouvent leurs couleurs.
Et Pennywise revient réclamer son public.
Mais il existe une règle ancienne, inscrite dans les fondations mêmes de ce royaume de terreur.
Le clown peut changer de visage.
Il peut emprunter les voix du passé, transformer les ombres en monstres et donner une forme aux pires cauchemars.
Pourtant, son pouvoir grandit surtout lorsque ceux qui le regardent cessent de croire qu'ils peuvent lui résister.
Car la peur est son royaume.
Et chaque frisson est une couronne supplémentaire posée sur sa tête.
Cette nuit-là, cependant, quelque chose semble troubler le maître du carnaval.
Au bout de l'allée, une silhouette demeure immobile.
Elle ne fuit pas.
Elle ne crie pas.
Elle contemple simplement le clown, ses ballons et son sourire impossible.
Pennywise cesse de rire.
Pour la première fois depuis longtemps, ses yeux jaunes se rétrécissent.
Puis il s'avance lentement, ses chaussures effleurant les pavés mouillés.
« Tu n'as donc pas peur de moi ? »
Le silence lui répond.
Derrière lui, la grande roue commence à tourner.
Une à une, les lumières des attractions s'éteignent.
Les ballons cessent de flotter.
Et pendant un instant, le visage du clown semble perdre son expression humaine, révélant quelque chose d'infiniment plus ancien, de plus vaste et de plus terrifiant que le simple personnage qu'il prétend être.
Car Pennywise n'est pas véritablement un clown.
Le clown n'est qu'un masque.
Une forme choisie pour séduire, tromper et effrayer.
Derrière ses yeux jaunes demeure une présence venue d'ailleurs, une faim immémoriale qui a traversé les âges et appris à reconnaître les faiblesses des êtres humains.
Alors, lentement, son sourire revient.
Plus froid.
Plus large.
Plus terrible.
Il tend de nouveau la main.
« Tu veux un ballon ? »
Au-dessus du carnaval, la lune disparaît derrière un nuage.
La musique s'interrompt.
Et dans l'obscurité soudaine, un dernier éclat de rire résonne entre les chapiteaux abandonnés.
Lorsque les premières lueurs de l'aube apparaîtront, il ne restera plus rien.
Ni grande roue.
Ni lanternes.
Ni ballons.
Seulement une allée déserte, quelques feuilles mortes et une vieille affiche déchirée sur laquelle on pourra encore distinguer un sourire rouge.
Mais ceux qui auront traversé cette nuit comprendront une vérité que les contes pour enfants n'osent jamais raconter.
**Les monstres les plus terrifiants ne sont pas toujours ceux qui surgissent des ténèbres. Ce sont parfois ceux qui savent emprunter les couleurs de nos souvenirs heureux pour nous inviter à les suivre.**
Et quelque part, derrière le dernier rideau d'un chapiteau disparu, une voix aiguë murmurera encore :
« Le carnaval reviendra… »
**Car certaines fêtes s'achèvent lorsque les lumières s'éteignent. Mais dans le royaume de Pennywise, les cauchemars ne ferment jamais véritablement leurs portes. Ils attendent simplement que quelqu'un ose entrer.**
---
There are nights when laughter no longer promises happiness, when the lights of fairgrounds conceal secrets older than the towns themselves, and when colorful balloons no longer celebrate innocence, but announce the arrival of something no one should ever encounter.
On such a night, beneath a pale moon suspended above an autumn forest, the gates of a strange amusement park open for the first time in twenty-seven years.
On a large poster illuminated by flickering bulbs, a few words welcome the visitors:
“Carnival of Nightmares — Dare to Enter.”
The Carnival of Nightmares.
Dare to enter.
Beyond the rusted gates, a motionless Ferris wheel cuts its silhouette against the black clouds. Red-and-white circus tents line a pathway of wet cobblestones, while strings of lights sway gently above puddles reflecting the last colors of autumn.
Everything seems ready for a celebration.
Yet no music can be heard.
No children run between the attractions.
No carnival workers stand behind the illuminated stalls.
Only a distant laugh occasionally drifts through the darkness.
A high-pitched, almost childish laugh, always ending on a profoundly inhuman note.
For the carnival has a master.
And his name is Pennywise.
Some call him Pennywise the Dancing Clown.
Others prefer never to speak his name at all.
He appears around the bend of a pathway, dressed in an old ivory-colored clown costume whose dusty ruffles seem to have survived several centuries. Three red pom-poms adorn his chest, while his flaming hair rises around his face like a crown of wild fire.
His deathly pale skin bears the marks of makeup that seems almost carved into his flesh.
His lips form a smile far too wide.
And his yellow eyes, gleaming with an intelligence utterly foreign to humanity, watch the visitors with terrifying curiosity.
In his hand float red, blue, purple, and orange balloons.
They do not move with the wind.
They seem to be waiting.
For Pennywise possesses more than the power to frighten.
He knows the fears people hide behind their smiles.
He hears the memories they refuse to speak of.
He recognizes forgotten nightmares, childhood anxieties, and those small, silent terrors that sometimes remain buried deep within a soul for an entire lifetime.
And in his carnival, every attraction is a doorway into one of those fears.
The Ferris wheel offers glimpses of places that no longer exist.
The hall of mirrors reveals faces no one recognizes.
The carousel sometimes spins backward, carrying its passengers toward memories they would rather have left behind.
As for the ghost train, no one knows where it leads.
Some claim it travels through the depths of the earth.
Others insist it never truly leaves its platform.
But everyone who has heard its carriages creaking through the darkness tells the same story: behind the black curtains, a voice whispers their name.
And that voice always sounds like someone they once loved.
Yet tonight, Pennywise is not hiding in the depths of an attraction.
He waits in the middle of the main pathway.
His enormous grin reveals razor-sharp teeth as he slowly extends his hand toward an unseen visitor.
“Come closer…”
His voice is gentle, almost welcoming.
“The show is about to begin.”
The lanterns flicker.
The Ferris wheel releases a long metallic groan.
A red balloon breaks away from the bunch and rises slowly toward the moon.
Then a second.
Then a third.
And suddenly, the carnival's dusty loudspeakers begin playing an old fairground melody, distorted by the passing years, slowed until it becomes a mournful lament.
Pennywise tilts his head.
His smile widens.
For he knows something the visitors have yet to discover.
The Carnival of Nightmares is not a place one finds by chance.
It appears only to those whose fear has already opened the door a little.
Every twenty-seventh autumn, when the leaves take on the color of dried blood and the nights grow longer, the carnival is reborn somewhere between the forests and forgotten towns.
Its tents emerge from the mist.
Its lanterns light up again.
Its posters regain their colors.
And Pennywise returns to claim his audience.
But there is an ancient rule, written into the very foundations of this kingdom of terror.
The clown can change his face.
He can borrow voices from the past, transform shadows into monsters, and give shape to the worst nightmares.
Yet his power grows strongest when those who look upon him cease to believe they can resist him.
For fear is his kingdom.
And every shiver is another crown placed upon his head.
Tonight, however, something seems to trouble the master of the carnival.
At the far end of the pathway, a figure stands motionless.
The figure does not run.
Does not scream.
Simply watches the clown, his balloons, and his impossible smile.
Pennywise stops laughing.
For the first time in a very long while, his yellow eyes narrow.
Then he advances slowly, his shoes barely brushing the wet cobblestones.
“So you're not afraid of me?”
Silence is his only answer.
Behind him, the Ferris wheel begins to turn.
One by one, the lights of the attractions go out.
The balloons stop floating.
And for a moment, the clown's face seems to lose its human expression, revealing something infinitely older, vaster, and more terrifying than the simple character he pretends to be.
For Pennywise is not truly a clown.
The clown is merely a mask.
A form chosen to entice, deceive, and terrify.
Behind his yellow eyes dwells a presence from somewhere beyond this world, an ancient, insatiable hunger that has endured through the ages and learned to recognize the weaknesses of human beings.
Then, slowly, his smile returns.
Colder.
Wider.
More terrible.
Once again, he extends his hand.
“Would you like a balloon?”
Above the carnival, the moon disappears behind a cloud.
The music stops.
And in the sudden darkness, one final burst of laughter echoes between the abandoned tents.
When the first light of dawn appears, nothing will remain.
No Ferris wheel.
No lanterns.
No balloons.
Only an empty pathway, a few fallen leaves, and an old, torn poster upon which a red smile can still be seen.
But those who have lived through that night will understand a truth that children's fairy tales never dare to tell.
**The most terrifying monsters are not always those that emerge from the darkness. Sometimes, they are the ones who know how to borrow the colors of our happiest memories to lure us into following them.**
And somewhere, behind the final curtain of a vanished circus tent, a high-pitched voice will whisper once more:
“The carnival will return…”
**For some celebrations end when the lights go out. But in Pennywise's kingdom, nightmares never truly close their doors. They simply wait for someone to dare to enter.**
---
“I’m NOT okay!”—thus all my being cries;
Yet from some social duty, I would hide
My rash reactions, and I would disguise
My inconformities with masks of pride.
I’m NOT okay! Why should I feign to be?
Confined, imprisoned, no escape I find—
No place to go, from observation free,
To sort through all the turmoil in my mind.
I’m NOT okay! Nor shall I be in fact
Until I find release—to cry, to shout;
Lest I explode, I need to drop the act
And siphon all this soulish venom out.
__May cleansing, grace, and peace be mine, I pray,
__As I at last confess, “I’m NOT okay!”
Credit: [Angry] Bubba From The Darkness Fair
3 of 5 masks shown
Thank you, Stitches (AngryNoob)
Photo Credit: Clementine Rosca
Muaaahhaahhaaahahahahhaaaa!
I hate clowns, I always have. It creeped me out just processing this shot. HSS!
vintage polaroid SX-70 camera electronically modified to shoot 600 series film, impossible project B&W generation 2.0 beta test film. scan: epson V750. exif tags: lenstagger.
Halloween is just soooo much fun, isn't it? You can dress up, go knock on strangers' doors, eat candy till your whole mouth falls out...
Most of the things in this picture are from Gachaland SPOOKtacular this October!
Here is the Official website: Gachaland.com
Check out the event's flickr too! The Official Flickr for Gimme Gacha Productions!
My outfit @ Gachaland:
The dress: 1 RARE Art&KO - Vampire goddess GACHA - Black dress (Maitreya)
The rings: lassitude & ennui - Haunted rings gacha:
1. lassitude & ennui Skulls ring - gold (Maitreya)
3. lassitude & ennui Pearls ring - gold (Maitreya)
5. lassitude & ennui Ouija ring - gold (Maitreya) RARE
8. lassitude & ennui Gothic ring - gold red (Maitreya)
12. lassitude & ennui Heirloom ring - gold red (Maitreya)
15. lassitude & ennui Coffin ring - gold (Maitreya) RARE
17. lassitude & ennui Bat ring - gold (Maitreya)
19. lassitude & ennui Feline ring - gold (Maitreya)
The ears: :ANDORE: - 1 - Cats, Roses and Some Magic
The eyes: LOTUS. Fleur Eyes SOI 2 (Catwa)
The Forehead jewelry: Forehead Jewel Triple Lune Steel - by Nord Embel'Lys
The tattoo: ZODIAC tattoo gacha - Leo, gold +FGInc. - Fallen Gods Inc. -
Lisa's outfit @ Gachaland:
The doll: [HarshLands] [HL] Voodude #16 - Zombiefied & Pins
The scarf: LORIEN YOLI SCARF Grey Maitreya
The skirt: LORIEN YOLI SKIRT Pink Maitreya
The sweater: LORIEN YOLI SWETER Pink Maitreya
Decor @ Gachaland:
The backdrop: *~*HopScotch*~* Halloween Backdrop Trick Or Treat RARE
The cat in the cauldron: Broomer Cats Gacha by Baby Sunshine - C:Broomer Cat GLE
The carved pumpkins: .::Bella Botanicals::. The 13 Pumpkins of Halloween:
.::Bella Botanicals::. Jack-O-Lantern 03
.::Bella Botanicals::. Jack-O-Lantern 10
These pumpkins are sold by the entrance to Gachaland SPOOKtacular
My outfit @ other stores:
The makeup: [MJN] - DeepCut
The face piercing: [CX] Lance Piercing (Catya) - Black
The body: Maitreya Lara
The head: Catwa Catya
The hair: Exile: London rain
Lisa's outfit @ other stores:
The body: Maitreya Lara The head: Vista Bento Head Zoe
The hair: Wasabi // Marcus Mesh Hair
Decor @ other stores:
The clown: [C] Evil Clown - by Core Animesh | Avatars (This is actually a companion I used as decor)
The 3 piled pumpkins: Sway's [Autumn] Pumpkin decoration . trio - 3
Step into the light… if you dare! 🎃👻
A sinister silver clown, a sparkling red grin, and a little Halloween mischief with smoke in the background.
A little creepy, a little theatrical, and a whole lot of Halloween fun! Selfie taken at Studio 723, Mesa, Arizona, USA.
Used Ninja smoke machine.
Ronald McDonald is on the rampage. Stop him before he kills again.
This image is the result of a game of Photoshop Tennis which i participated in.
If you are interested in playing why not join the Flickr Photoshop Tennis Group
Character created by Brady Spindel for Cirque Berzerk - Coming to the Nokia Theater in Los Angeles
PHOTOGRAPHED AT BIG ART LABS
nikon F3/T + nikkor 28mm f/2.8 AIS + adox color implosion 100 film. lab: the icon, los angeles, ca. scan: nikon coolscan 5000. exif tags: filmtagger.
in all seriousness, it was fine, if a bit dated and worn. extra credit: spot the speed trap on the far left, 25mph limit in small towns throughout nevada.
mamiya 6MF 50mm f/4 + kodak portra 160. lab: the icon, los angeles, ca. scan: epson V750. exif tags: filmtagger
mamiya 6MF 50mm f/4 + kodak portra 160. lab: the icon, los angeles, ca. scan: epson V750. exif tags: filmtagger.
Character created by Brady Spindel for Cirque Berzerk - Coming to the Nokia Theater in Los Angeles
PHOTOGRAPHED AT BIG ART LABS
holga 120S + expired kodak ektachrome EPR 64 cross-processed in C-41. lab: the icon, los angeles, ca. scan: epson V750. exif tags: filmtagger.
Pennywise - the malevolent clown character in Stephen King's novel "It". Currently on display in a shop window in Chesterfield, Derbyshire. (Background of fluorescent lights, greeting cards and Easter bunnies edited out).
holga 120S + expired kodak ektachrome EPR 64 cross-processed in C-41. lab: the icon, los angeles, ca. scan: epson V750. exif tags: filmtagger.
Some groups are the last people you'd ever expect to be friends. Different personalities, different habits, and probably more disagreements than agreements.
But who says friends have to think alike?
Sometimes, one shared interest is enough to make you like each other just a little more, once a month, than you normally would.
A night of poker, good cigars, a nice drink, and perhaps a little cheating. Sometimes that's all a human — or a monster — needs to enjoy a moment of genuine friendship.
Tomorrow, they'll probably go their separate ways again. The clown will cause trouble, the vampire will look down on everyone, the demon will pick a fight somewhere, and the gnome... well, nobody really knows what he gets up to the rest of the month.
But next month, they'll be back around the same table.
Because some friendships are simply too special not to immortalize.
Most friends settle for a group photo.
These four decided their friendship deserved a slightly bigger canvas. 🎨
Character created by Brady Spindel for Cirque Berzerk - Coming to the Nokia Theater in Los Angeles
PHOTOGRAPHED AT BIG ART LABS