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((Sequel to this thread.))
Kazooland, as it turns out, is a very hospitable place to bring a circus. New Pieland welcomes the so-called Greatest Show in the Galaxy, and they set up tents on the outskirts of Preferbia. The place has a look that is vaguely 1950's earth, but with other elements that make it clear people from all over have settled there. In comparison to some of the denizens of the city, some of the people of the Psychic Circus look downright ordinary, so they just may have to step up their game.
They're invited to put up posters in all the usual places, which are evidenced by layers of older posters already there. Some of these advertise 'The Steam Man Band, the singing musical Walter automatons'.
It is one of these who shows up at the ticket booth, in fact, although his look has been updated some since the photo for the posters was taken. Now he sports big metal blades down his back, and a face made of seamed metal plates with vents in the cheeks that occasionally trickle steam. He bends down a little, to reach the level of the ticket window, and gives the person there an uncertain look. "I... w-was told to ask for Mags...?" The bass voice rises at the end, uncertain.
Kazooland, as it turns out, is a very hospitable place to bring a circus. New Pieland welcomes the so-called Greatest Show in the Galaxy, and they set up tents on the outskirts of Preferbia. The place has a look that is vaguely 1950's earth, but with other elements that make it clear people from all over have settled there. In comparison to some of the denizens of the city, some of the people of the Psychic Circus look downright ordinary, so they just may have to step up their game.
They're invited to put up posters in all the usual places, which are evidenced by layers of older posters already there. Some of these advertise 'The Steam Man Band, the singing musical Walter automatons'.
It is one of these who shows up at the ticket booth, in fact, although his look has been updated some since the photo for the posters was taken. Now he sports big metal blades down his back, and a face made of seamed metal plates with vents in the cheeks that occasionally trickle steam. He bends down a little, to reach the level of the ticket window, and gives the person there an uncertain look. "I... w-was told to ask for Mags...?" The bass voice rises at the end, uncertain.
