This personally restored poster originally appeared in Kenny's cave on the Fallout 3 ~ Point Lookout DLC..
Poor Ruzka had been relegated to no more that a poster used as a child's BB gun target. So I will now take it upon myself to tell a short Game Fan fiction or two, about the events in and around the life of this once great entertainer ~ RUZKA THE WONDER BEAR !
- This first bit sets the stage with a short telling of some peculiar events surrounding Ruzka's arrival at Point Lookout. I call this short "Loss Carnival"
Once Upon a Time at Point LookoutEdit
- The year is 2070, well before the bombs fell, when Loss Carnival Deuce Mort, rolled into the coastal holiday town of Point Lookout. It is an uncommonly warm and dry winters day.
Desperately off key organ and ungodly loud music floods from a hurdygurdy wagon.
As the amusements of the boardwalk had been closed for the winter, the noise booth annoyed and enticed the locals from their ruts of work and school. The residents simply seemed to find them selves outside lining the side walks just north of Pilgrim's Landing, starring in disbelief at the off season parade.
The Sun seems far too bright, as it exposes unwelcomed details in the unheard of collection of freakish beasts, booth wild & lame that scream & claw through the rusty twisted bars, as they are pulled along in faded Carney wagons by half blind horses, mangy zebras and ancient scared elephants, that all move in an uneasy submission. Only one wagon seemed particularly out of place, it was the brightly pained wagon of Ruzka the Wonder Bear, while all about clowns of all unholily shapes and size prance, tumble and crawl down the boulevard along side of freaks and circus geeks all garbed in dark Goth with black and white painted frowns, handing out flyers as they pass through the crowd, leaving behind a trail in the air of cotton candy, saw dust, rude perfumes and animal dung.
Alone in the spectators crowed, as if waking from a dream, a blond haired man focuses his sad blue eyes upon the poorly printed and over copied peace of paper in his hand.
~ * Deuce Mort ~ Loss Carnival * ~
~ Opens * One Night Only ~
~* Dusk until dawn *~
On the Old Town Square Lawn
At the bottom of the note was the added hand scrawled announcement, "Special Guest attraction RUZKA THE WONDER BEAR !
All that day he would find himself starring on and off again at the flyer. He tells him self " It is just the birthday blues", he wasn't the type to draw attention to such things, "Past 21 what was the point ", He had told himself this for years now.
Suddenly he laughs at himself, snatching up the the flyer, he looks at it one last time, saying aloud to himself "I just need a change of pace". He balls up the flyer and over hand bounces it off his dingy Bank office wall where it tumbles into the trash. He smiles, overly pleased with himself, just as most guys will over such small achievements and he says He says" Yep this year I'm gonna treat my self to the Carnival.
The rest of the day went by painfully slow... He mocks himself, thinking, "For a special day, this one seems sadly dull", But he knew, tonight he would go to the Carnival" and the glow of that idea, had brightened his day. It would make this birthday special enough to be remembered at least.
It was not easy to keep his eyes off the clock, the second hand was loud and relentlessly slow.. "FINALY" it was 5pm. One last thing to do. He logs on to his computer's personal home page, "NO NEW MAIL"... Then he remembers,"Dusk until Dawn" ! Without bothering to log off he rushes to the door, bumping the desk in his haste. The computers mouse "arrow" scrolls across the the screen like a Ouija board landing on the word of the day; Origin & meaning : An ancient Roman Holiday:Fare well to the flesh.; The word is Carnival...
The page blinks into a politically correct, predictably business like screen saver, hiding the message that was never read..
The trappings of CarnivalEdit
"Now is the hour of our discontent! A moment of protest and souls foul regret! To take up arms, or lay in shame, if the victem bares no name then who is to blame? We are but tokens in a pointless shell game".
Thus was spoken by a seemingly blind and home less retch that bared the path of this hopeful yet Sad, birthday boy..
Attempting to avoid the smelly old man, the young blonde man with the sad, sad eyes shifts first left then right and back again. The profit sways as if in a stupor. Blocking a doomed man's path. Still the banker man is sincabel, logical, he only hears the distant sounds of Loss Carnival.
The elder man stretches out a wizened, gangly hand, it's gnarled and bony fingers extending in untold foreboding toward the blond haired man but, still more puzzled than afraid, the banker wards off the vagrant's grasp with a gesture of annoyance. Leaving the old man's fingers trailing in the cold night air.
"Another drunken bum", mutters the banker reproachfully, as he continues unperturbed, undisturbed and dissuaded, though somehow he felt that his own words were not true. He denied the passing thought that alcohol had never passed that blind prophets lips or dulled his old wise eyes..
Shaking his head now full of regret, the suposidly deranged old blind man walks into the shadows, pausing only long enough to turn his head in the direction of the carnival as if watching the blond haired man cross it's gaudy colored threshold into the vulgar, over lighted, pedestrian congested path, where freaks and geeks abound, all selling worthless dreams of chance and grotesque amusments.
The scruffy elder sighs, "Some who see are truly blind".. then the shadows seem to carrie him away, leaving only his voice to fade unheard, "Happy birthday."
Into the dark throngEdit
As the young banker stands watching the unusual carnival, time stands alone, unwanted memories flow and a gruesome chanting begins in his head. The music from the parade seemed to have changed heart and now caught again in it's spell the carnival's music seemed to change as well. now becoming malevolent and hypnotic.
Slowly the sad young man's mood deepens into depression. For this year the carnival seemed just a vain, baseless, plea for people to be happy in a most vulgar way.
The clowns passed like devils trying to look pleasant but they had not hid the evil in their faces.
As the young sensible banker turned, the crowd became inhuman, The adults screamed rude, unpleasant words, the teenagers were all wild, like beasts groping and pawing with angry lust while the children cried and screamed with spoiled greed.
Slowly they seemed to transform into abominations beyond the young man's scope of description. All snarling and snapping wildly like donkeys from a sickly twisted telling of Pinocchio's fairy tale. becoming rabid and wild. They ran frantically screaming and bleating out chaos. For the blond man his birthday had turned unhoilly, gruesome and desperate.
Only person remained more than beast. The blind old drunk now strode in to the light, reviling himself a wizard cloaked in blood mist and shadow, wickedly grinning madness at the banker's terror with eyes large and dark that reflected the young man's own. Terrible realization came upon the young banker. The lights had flared becoming far too bright, too meany details did his panic enlighten, the music too loud and unholy obscene. He had to run, to flee this Sean!
Averting his eyes from all the truth about him he dared not see. He hurrys past the kaleidoscope maze of perceived endless stalls, ever deeper and deeper into the heart of carnival. In a blur he ran on ever seeking some dark, quiet, a refuge to hide. Hopelessly searching for some glimmer of hope..
Capricorn in retrogradeEdit
Beyond lost hope shown the mouth of a tent and yet another sign he did not pause to read.
Ducking inside the young banker quickly turns hiding his face in the cool dark perfumes and rich silk drapery that lined every wall.
It seems to him hours would pass before his heart would slow.
- Then, he heard her voice...
It was calm and inviting, full of simpathetic concern and the coolest compassion as she bid him, "Come in young stranger". "Welcome to the tent of Madam Panada". She fore told of marvilouse things. Glorious things ! She drew Tarot cards, read the lines of his palm and cast the fortunes of his stars.
Hope, profit, health and romance were to be the wealth of his luck in this most bless it of years. Then and there, in her crystal ball's reflection the hypnotic spell of carnival was broken. The truth he'd ever hidden and refused now Ran deep in him, finally he was free..
Illusions all broke, the sighs were clear and read at last... He saw the truth of his own reflection.
In the early dawn hours Loss Carnival Deuce Mort was broken down and packed away. That was when the carny folk found them. From toes to nose, he had chewed away her flesh to bones and died in a fit of pure madness..
He had seen the truth.. The only true freak, the only beast of demonic intent with in the circlet of the loss Carnival Deuce Mort was he indeed... He would hear the lies of hope no more. The tarot card of change was found in his hand and on on it's face, of course, was the image of Death and scrawled across that image. written in her blood, was wrote "Capricorn in retrograde"...
A blind old drunken fool stumbles into the street, His dull white eyes roll wildly as he Shouts incoherently, "I told Y'all that boy didn't look right ta me!
Point of DepartureEdit
In the aftermath of this tragedy the investigations went quickly and the carnival moved on, never to be heard of at Point Lookout again as they left behind only one legacy. Elazar the animal trainer was the only known survivor to the House of Panada and the death of his beloved cousin had left a sour taste for travel. So he and Ruzka the Wonder Bear would give up their gypsy roaming for a while and made the board walk of Point Lookout their adopted home.
Written by SaintPainEdit
SaintPain→ That was broke afore I got here. 10:00, July 19, 2012 (UTC)