A Musical Massacre

Blood. A lot of blood.

The ominous red fluid washing away into the drains of the guild's shower. Jester would stare ahead as the shower wall blankly, a bright grin on his face. Relentless held in place as he savoured the satisfaction of the gruesome task he had just pulled. Such delightfully pained screams, begging for mercy, another worthless life lost, and roots of grief quickly embedding in those who mourned them. It had been a bit overkill, but the Jester experience had been somewhat lacking lately. It had been a lot of floating around, observing the area. The guild was undergoing changes he saw, not that it made much difference to him. The guild was merely a means to an end, a pit of resources for his games. But it had been a while, and the line of patience that Jester maintained had been growing thinner with each passing day. Until finally he had snapped. He had cornered a happy little family in Oshibana, and basically left their home bathed in their blood.

He stepped out of the shower, not bothering to glance in the mirror as he dried himself. If he were, he would see a hardened body, lean and athletic, yet covered in several gruesome scars — a reflection of the torturous life he had once lived. He quickly dressed, before he repainted the usual symbols on his face. A trademark to his new self. A red heart on the left cheek and a blue spade on the right. He would use his hands to comb his wet hair back as he left the showers and made his way through the guild. Now that he had washed away the evidence of his last game, it was time to find a new focus. He was considerably sated by the murder, but still, there was always room for more fun.

As he walked along, his footsteps began to pick up a slight pace, moving rhythmically into a well-timed skip. Jester's head would bob from side to side, the water dripping from his locks flicking along the walls of the guild. He was moving in synchronisation with a specific sound, a familiar sound that was making it way through the guild halls. It was undoubtedly, the music man. He made his way towards the noise, after all, the music man always seemed to be a great source of entertainment with the kind of skill for the creation of suffering that Jester enjoyed playing witness to. It wasn't often someone was as light-hearted about toying with folks as himself, plus Baird seemed so incomprehensible unstable, that Jester didn't feel any urge to toy with him, but alongside him. Because together, the pain they could pain, was a sight to behold.

Jester noticed a female walking along in the distance, with long black hair, and features somewhat androgynous yet completely unscathed. Jester observed as she carried herself with determination and purpose, moving much like himself towards the music. He beamed excitedly. Wondering of what sort of nature she was, did she like to toy with people too? Or was she the kind who was good to be toyed with? Only time would tell. Jester held back for a moment, hearing Baird's voice as he addressed the woman. Jester would wait until the conversation had already begun, listening quietly all the while standing in the shadows. It seemed the music man knew the woman in the Victorian dress. He would eavesdrop on their exchange if they were to say anything that might catch his interest he would pop in, if not he would leave and find some other means of entertainment. He wasn't one to waste time with obligatory social engagements; Jester felt no desire to get to know any of his guildmates, because unless they plan some kind of role in his plan for universal suffering. Then their existence mattered not.

Wc: 650

The clown bobbed silently outside of the door. The initial conversation didn't interest him, talking about sleep, music and memories. It was rather dull to the clown and was almost enough to cause him to twirl away to find something a little more fun to do. But then the woman mentioned a festival, catching his attention once more, his lips pulled back over his teeth and his eyes narrowed angrily. He dislikes festivals, they were much like carnivals. They only set off his need to kill, to destroy any and all happiness that resided in such a place. But not in a fun way, there was something uncontrollable about his hate, like a lingering beast it took other, turning his mind red with rage he saw nothing, he remembered little, it didn't have the same fun as seeking lives to destroy the way he preferred. She would mention a crazy clown, causing Jester to tilt his head, did she mean him? He did not know of any other clowns that resided in Nightmare at present, but then again he didn't know much about his guild members aside from the Music Man.

As the music man spoke of a clown, Jester's suspicion was confirmed. They indeed meant him, the snarl faded from his face at the thought. Becoming instantly blank, as long wiped free from emotion. He would lean against the wall, sinking into the shadows once more, hearing his name called by the music man. He would grin widely, there was just something about his tone, reminding the clown of all the things they had gotten up to thus far. The spectacular show they had given at the bank, accompanied by the Shark boy. It had been so much fun, and there had been so much yummy suffering for Jester to lap up. It was a pleasant memory for the clown, maybe it would be worth looking into. If the Music man was there, perhaps he could enjoy themselves. Maybe he could steady his mind and form a fun new game for them to place together. A performance between them could certainly become interesting if Jester had any say in how it ended.

With the bodies of the audience; writhing in agony and screaming in terror, perhaps? Yes... that was a tasty thought.

His imagination now alight with possibilities, Jester made his decision. As they walked into the hallway, Jester would step out of the shadows, a wide grin on his clown face. His golden eyes ready alight with the need to create some delicious mayhem. He did a twirl, stopping in front of the two of them, he spread his arms wide. "As long as we are going to give them a show they'll never forget... then you have your Jester~" He said, his voice silky and smooth, almost purring at the two of them. He would turn once more, falling in line next to the Music man, matching his pace as they walked along the halls of the guild. He would continue his excited skip from earlier, his fingers itching with anticipation for what may happen soon enough.

---

Jester's fingers tapped the entire way to the Minstrel, like the dripping of a tap, the clicking of a clock or a repetitive beat of a song with no melody. Tap, tap, tap. On any surface, he could find. The cogs of his mind working, planning, preparing. He was going to perform on stage, in front of a monumental crowd. It had to be perfect, pristine, infallible. He couldn't allow himself to lose it, to lose himself, he wanted to enjoy the kill. He couldn't enjoy it if he allowed himself to divulge into that version of Jester. There were things that triggered it, he knew they would occur tonight. But he had to stay in control, to play the game, the finish the game. The tapping soothed him, kept him present as he prepared himself. The arrived as the Grande Royale theatre of Minstrel, stepping inside of the extravagant building. The clown dressed in a black suit, shirt and tie as opposed to his usual attire, no signature painted symbols on his cheeks. for now, he looked rather normal, the only feature of him that stuck out was his bright orange hair. As he entered the building, his expression was stoic and cold but his golden eyes explored the theatre hungrily, moving behind the Music Man with an even pace. Moving as though they belonged there, which they did, who belonged to the house of entertainment more than entertainers such as them.

It wasn't dissimilar to that place.

The velvet curtains, the gold beams, rows upon rows of plush seats waiting to be filled with eager faces, watching your every move. Feasting on it. Like a buffet served up for the picking, their eyes ready to pick you dry. Just like back then, they feasted too, until they could not feast any more. Until he gave them a feast to end all feasts. The Music Man spoke, pulling his gaze from the room and back to the game. The play. The performance at hand. He dragged his eyes over to his green-haired accomplice. He said nothing in response, but his eyes did flicker with excitement and his face split into a wide clown-ish grin. A response to his question, he was ready.

The music man would do his part, whilst Jester observed. He had not taken a role he usually might of for this event, he could playful the handsome charmer but it seemed unnecessary. The Music man had that covered, he was good at it too. Extremely so. Instead, he put on the face of a nervous performer. He didn't play this character often, but it was always fun, smiling shyly, bumbling over one's words, anxious ticks. A rube hiding being his fellow performer, nodding along to the extroverted character, creating a clear, believable dynamic. The Music Man's flirtatious exchange with the girl did the job of getting the pair into the show. Which quite frankly was all the preparations that were needed, once they were on that stage, then everything else would fall into place. As the woman left them two it, Jester turned to the Music Man, who offered to play him the tune he would be performing too. "That won't be necessary." He confirmed. He didn't need to know the melody, to choreograph his movements to it. Jester had danced for far too long, so many gruelling hours, blistered feet and sore muscles had led him to his capabilities today. He would manage without, but he understood the need for asking.

The preparations for the show digressed, the Music Man played a tune to which Jester tapped along to. However he did not dance, not yet, he would save that for the stage. For the final level in this game. He could hear the crowds filing in distantly, the hungry eyes waiting in their plush seats. They were excited, relaxed, chattering away to themselves, oh so full of life. Oh how that would change soon enough. Much like the excited guests, excitement would fill the clown too. So close it was. The impending chaos, he could practically taste it.

The stagehands moved in place, the first set of performers ready and waiting in the wings. The dull roar of the audience like a hum now, only to be shushed as the lights in the theatre dimmed indicating the start of the show. And then, a booming voice, blasted over the speakers would address them all; "Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for joining us on this wonderful evening, soon to be filled marvel, wonder and delight. Tonight we have gathered for you, an array of performs delivered by some of Earthlands most talented individuals. So without further, we give you The Grande Royale's Variety Heart Gala!" There was an explosion of applause from the crowd, that settled down after a moment. The moment of spotlight appeared on the stage, where stood was a beautiful ballerina. Petite and lithe, she stood poised, like a perfect doll. And then she would move, music trickled into from the theatre's orchestra. She was good, undoubtedly a talent. Her moves picked heartily by those eyes, even Jester picked a little. She brought memories of acrobats and trapezers who moved with such grace, except they were much, more talented than she, and the fellow ballerinas that joined her as the song continued.

Still, it reassured the clown. This was nothing, they could not trigger him. If this was the standard, good as it was, it would never be close to the Cirque de Rêves. He was fine, for this, his mind would be fine. The ballerina's performance came to an end, stirring tremendous applause from the audience who were far more impressed than the clown had been. This quickly moved onto the next performance, an opera singer. Jester's eyes moved over to the Music Man, wondering how he saw the performances. Would they irk him? He was a music man, after all, this was his domain. Just as the performance was Jesters. He wondered what sort of thoughts paraded the greenette's mind at present, although he would surely see soon enough. When the show came to its closing act, and the two of them would undoubtedly paint the theatre red.

---

Jester's curiosity over the Music Man's ire would soon be answered by his remark as he assessed the opera singer spoken by a being of utter hubris. One assured in their own abilities to deliver a true performance, one that the audience deserved. It occurred to the clown that this might be why he was so drawn to the music man, why they almost shared kinship in their performative ways. Only one such as they would find faults in such a convincing show, the audience would be pleased despite this. Their pitiful narrow-minds were unable to see the flaws only available to one with training and expertise. Perhaps a burden to the truly talented. To struggle to enjoy any sub-par or less-than-exquisite entertainment because you knew, deep in your heart than you yourself, could create something much more beautiful. Something that could warm the hearts of the coldest souls, and bring a smile to the most unmovable dullard. Even without magic, there was a true power in the arts, if you knew how to tap into it, it was yours to wield.

The music man proposed a question, a curious one indeed. Ideas and patterns had already begun percolating in the sinister joker of a man's mind, he had several ways to broach the situation. At least twenty delicious little ways he could find a satisfying end the Grand Royale's Variety Heart Gala. Although settling on one would be something he might struggle to do until the very last moment. Either that or whenever he spotted his key players for today's event. There was one thing with which he was certain, that the majority of the guests and show folk that stood in these halls tonight would live to see tomorrow. If any of them survived, it would be at their grace and for the purpose of sharing the terrors that they would soon see. He released a soft giggle, his eyes trapped on the singer. "Oh I say, we give them a show they'll never forget. Or perhaps they might, depending on the true consequence of death. But who knows what lurks behind that red door." He mused idly, shooting a devilish grin at his companion. The aftermath of death wasn't something the clown pondered often, as one who often dealt in it, what happened to his victims didn't matter. It was what happened in life that was of strict importance to him, most importantly what painful, tragic means to which he delivered their end. "I'm sure our improvisations should prove to be the greatest display the audience shall bear witness to tonight.  I, for one, plan to have them screaming with delight... or just screaming." He remarked in a sinister tone, following the hint of machinations with an excited giggle.

As the music man declared his desires to find some means of passing the time, the clown nodded in agreement, waving his hand as a means to encourage the green-haired bard to go have his fun.  He was sure that his guildmate had no intentions of failing the task at hand, whatever it was he got up to in the meantime, there was no doubt in that red-heads mind that his venturings would little to no role in stopping him returning when the time was upon them to begin. Meanwhile, the clown planned to sit a little longer, to ruminate on his plan as he watched the show. His golden eyes trained on the reckless legs of the flapper dancer, who whilst frisky in her performance was by no means enough to capture his excitement. And so one by one performer would pass through the stage, and the clown would watch, his foot tapping at a relentless pace the entire time. Not one of them giving him a show that appeased him, he had seen so much better in his past, so much more skill back during his circus days. The gruelling hours of endless training, strategic planning, that had gone into those shows. Every show was beautiful, a delicious compilation of blood, sweat and tears. Nothing compared to that. As the clown sat here, comparing the past with the present, he was resigned to the fact there was not a single player worth saving tonight. As such with each moment that pass, he would grow hungrier with anticipation. His want for the grand crescendo of pain that he would deliver waiting for him. That moment went he could bask in the pain and suffering of so many innocents, for that euphoria pleasure that was yet to come.

The Music Man returned to him, smelling of a woman's perfume amongst other intimate scents. He, himself, had little interest in such carnal acts of humanity. Jester rarely felt himself in a situation where he craved such releases, to him no amount of sex could equate the sheer pleasure that comes with orchestrating devastation. Such things were just a tool that he could use if necessary, albeit with great restraint. After all, Jester was not one for being touched. It was so rare that he ever felt any semblance of sexual desure for another person, and whilst he could find the means to perform during the act. It was often fueled by dark, unsavoury thoughts. Once that would no doubt repulse the bodies that had lain beneath him during those times. Even in the bedroom, he was a monster, a monster beneath a talented act. "It's nearly time, Music Man, May the real fun can begin!" He commented in almost hysterical glee, climbing to his feet, he inched closer to the stage. Fingers flexing with need as that fateful time crept closer. And finally, as the last of the performers scuttled off of the stage, the curtain would lower for them, and Jester moved forward. Getting into position, he would kneel, curling into a tight ball at centre stage. It didn't really matter where Baird positioned himself, he would work around him. All that he needed to trust was that the Music Man would deliver a most astonishing song for him to dance to.

Distantly the clown would hear the presenter, the audience applause quietening as they walked onto the stage. The hard heels of their shoes echoing across the large walls of the arena, as the man offered praised into the microphone of the mediocre group that had gone before them. Before introducing their final act, the bard and the jester. And so the stage would go dark, the velvet red curtain would rise as the crowd hushed to a complete silence. Focusing their attention on the show one last time, ready to see what it had in store for them. A spot line suddenly shining onto the stage like a brilliant beacon of exposure, and so it was this cue that told them that it was time to begin their most, splendid show.

As the music began, and Jester would begin to move, smoothly he unfolded like a blooming lotus. His limbs stretching upward like stems of a flower reaching for the sun, every motion he made as smooth as elegant as a panther. Every twist as hypnotic as a cobra, whilst carried with such delicacy and precision as though a single error could shatter its mesmerising illusion. As he brought himself up to his feet, he swiftly began to spin across the stage, his interpretive dance telling a sweet, yet tragic tale. All the while around the room, dolls would begin to appear the shadows. Harlequins standing in each crevice of the room, stepping forth from one another until there was one for every metre across the back wall. They made no moves at this point, instead, they would just stand there. Their blank mask staring straight ahead, waiting for the orders of their masters. Going completely unnoticed by the crowd, who could not take their eyes away from the stage.

Once Jester was certain that the pair were truly holding their audience captive with their performance. His movements would increase in speed, becoming wilder and more chaotic with each second that passed. He would deliver moves that would elicit gasps of awe from the crowd. His steps becoming more risque, as he carried out jumps, leaps and flips across the stage, delivering them with immense skills and accuracy. Until finally, he slowed, arms stretched outwards, his chin stretched proudly. He circled back to face the audience, standing for a moment, before aching back, with the flexibility of a true contortionist. His spine arched back on itself in an almost inhuman manner, it was in this bent state that the clown would finally meet the gaze of the Music Man. His golden eyes sparkling with malevolence as he offered him a subtle wink, a sign that it was time. Now that the audience's hearts were racing with delight at the impressive nature of their show, their very cores captured by the unbelievable talent they were now witnessing, something so incredibly better than anything they'd seen so far, that now was the time to strike.

And for the real show to begin.


END OF THREAD

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