The Princess of the Mountain (freeform with Jester)

Capture the Castle,

Magnificent.

It was all so magnificent.

In the mind of a man who had long since lost his sense of reality, a world of chaos was all he could hope for. A place where all those fools that thought their lives were perfect, that ignored the darkness and lived in the light would suffer for it. It had been so long that had he been searching, for many years, a game that was worth playing — searching for a game that would provide a thrill like no other. He had succeeded numerous times, but for so long they had been lacking something essential. He would work himself up, calculating and planning. Building up his ideals of the suffering he was to cause, then watch as it so eloquently fell into place. Always resulting in the euphoric satisfaction of a life or several lives ruined by his hands. It was good, so good, but not enough. Each time it would hit it's peaked, a climax of pain and anguish that he could revel in. Then it would seep away, and that euphoria would fade away with it. No, he needed more, much more.

What the crazy clown needed, was continuity.

For so long he had been on his own, wandering the world, leaving suffering in his wake. Sometimes he did not, if the place did not warrant the horrors, then why give in to it. No, it made little to no sense, to seek a dull high. Well, that was pointless. The clown was quickly coming to realise what he needed, this was a thrill that you could only achieve so much of on your own. What he needed was unique, he had found it once before, in the form of a music man. A delightful individual with long green hair and an assortment of wonderful instruments. A being as chaotic and unravelled as himself. That small sample of what it was like, of experiencing something different. That instead of playing with others, he could play alongside them. That was something entirely new and exhilarating, to witness the thrill of the pain they caused. Individuals like these, they deemed worthy of being a gamemaster, as Jester himself was. He had thought that the music man was a rare find, that to find someone so worthy was unlikely to happen again. Yet, it seemed he was wrong.

For he had found, a gamemaster.

A woman with white hair, the colour of snow, that fell down her back in waves. Eyes that almost appeared to glow with a pinkish red tone, such magnificent eyes. That could appear so sweet, then light up with chaos and mania. Sharp teeth that hinted only so subtlely at her true nature. She raided his thoughts, twice he had relished in the disorder she had artistically manifested. Firstly, when he had wandered rather randomly into the organisation, a group of anarchists that randomly selected them both from the crowd to do their handiwork. He had seen her then and decided to see if she was capable. Immediately, she had given off the vibe, but he needed to be sure.

She did not disappoint.

Secondly, after a short time of travelling together, she had been refused an item that was so rightfully hers. As a result, she had commenced their punishment, so many lives, so much pain and suffering. All those families left to bury the ones they loved; a mother headed out to get groceries, a father earning his keep for his family, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, and children. All of those insects, their existence snuffed out at the hands of this Jester and his merciless queen. He had replayed those moments over and over in his mind endless, he delightful white queen, covered in blood. It was an image he was slowly becoming obsessed with. He wanted more, more, so much more and he would do anything to get it.

Jester found himself, on another adventure with his white queen. His queen, who so befittingly had seated them on a polar bear she had seemingly tamed. He felt quite at ease riding on it's back; it reminded him of Sheba, the cold and callous tiger from his Circus days. The only beast he had ever felt some form of connection to, mainly because of how ruthlessly she killed the tamers that day. He wondered if she was still alive, oh he hoped so, he loved to see those powerful claws tear away at another living being. But Alas, the chances were slim. His queen bore her usual attire, a fetching white dress that was so well suited to her hair, a winged collar necklace, and a crown seated on her head. She had truly adopted the role as queen, which suited the clown perception of her well especially if they were going to have more fun playing games.

There were travelling through Mt. Hakobe; the air was chilly but not so much that it was bothersome to the clown. He was wearing his usual white clown suit, with pink rings around his arms, waist and calves. A purple diamond and heart on his top, he wore rather high black heels, and his red hair was slicked back, high up away from his head. On his right cheek, he wore a green star and on the left a blue teardrop. He sat there, humming quietly under his breath, a tuneless melody. He was just making noise for the sake of entertaining himself while they travelled. His patience was wearing thin; it had been too long since he'd revelled in his queen's chaos. He yearned for it again. But for chaos and suffering, you needed victims. And where would they find victims in the midst of a mountain?

Where indeed.

His queen would order her beast to take them up the mountain, which the creature would obediently follow. And so as they made their way higher up the mountain, he wondering would be answered. His queen, rather exuberant, pointed out the village below. Victims, Victims, Victims. Jester thought excitedly, the adrenaline already beginning to pump through his body.  In spite of this physiological reaction, his face remained blank and unreadable at the time. A short distance away, his golden eyes followed his queen's line of sight as saw the group working their way up the mountain also. Riding mammals of their own. The bear-bear as Jester had so decidedly nicknamed him in his mind, would follow after the group at its master's order. The group would travel along until ahead emerged a magnificent castle.  Resting on the mountain, in a fearsome and curious manner. Jester cocked his head at it; he glanced to his queen to watch her reaction. A slow smirk crept onto his face, spreading wider and wider until it beamed across his face. His eyes would narrow in a malevolent manner. The next game was afoot. As he expected, his queen wanted inside, which meant none other than that they were going inside. Whether it was permitted or not.

As they got closer to the building, the sound of a large horn rang through the air, coming from the castle itself. Jester snickered excitedly, his body trembling with anticipation. It was coming; the chaos was coming. Jester's face relaxed once more, morphing into a calm stillness. His queen would direct a request, one he was happy to oblige. He raised his left hand and snapped his fingers loudly. There was a ripple in the air, and a sudden crack as a few metres along, a small car appeared. It was the image of what could only be described as a clown car, painted white with stars, hearts and other various shapes all over in various colours. It did an almost excitedly beep as he whizzed away. Somehow the clown car had no trouble moving over the mountain terrain. It played a tune, much like that of an ice-cream carriage. It moved onwards towards the castle, arriving in the centre of the courtyard. The people inside would eye it warily. It was a bizarre thing to find on a mountain top after all. The car did a little beep, and the door on the left side opened. Out of the clown car stepped an identical clone of Jester, it moved out a little, and then another one climbed out. And another, and then another. Until Six clones of Jester stood around the car, looking blankly at the people there.

Jester tutted pointedly, shaking his head and leaning over to his queen so she could hear him clearly. "These peasants are not so pleasant my Queenie." He whispered to her. Then suddenly, his clones would break out into a performance. One would sing, another would hum a melody for the other to sing to. There were no coherent words; it was more like an opera style of song adding to the ominous atmosphere of their approach. The others would begin to dance, cartwheeling and spinning. They each formed a row of three, parallel to each other. Then in perfect synchronisation, they spoke.

"May we present to you, the white queen." Six voices called out, before bowing in an abnormally low manner. They would move along, passing the rows of clones, witness for themselves the confused yet slightly hostile crowd that awaited them. Jester hopped off Tyr, his heels hitting the hard concrete beneath him. He walked along, hand on his hips admiring them for a moment.

"Bow to your queen." He ordered, he knew what he was doing. The absurdity of the request, he needed someone to say it. He needed to orchestrate the chaos, so he could revel in his queen and the punishment she would deliver.

"I've never heard of a white queen, where does she rule?"

Jester turned, spotted the man who had spoken out, a soldier, perhaps a leader. It didn't really matter none. "My queen rules all. Everything belongs to her, the air, the snow, your lives, this castle, the stars, oh yes and your lives. Bow to Queenie, bow." He said again. The people stirred, shocked by his words, his eyes were mad. They were not prepared for this eccentricity.

"She is no queen of ours, you are a bunch of freaks that need locking up. We will not bow to her,"

Jester moved quickly, stalking over to the main, he swept him up by his collar. Swords and bows raised suddenly pointing at him threatening. Jester lifted the man off the ground with ease, bringing his face close to him.

"Bow to your queen." He said in little more than a whisper. The man struggled against his grip; his weapon has fallen to the floor, out of his reach.

"No." Jester grinned suddenly, he dropped the man and twirled back to the white queen. He spoke once more, sounds more normal than he normally does. The madness in his voice slipping, he sounded for once, quite understandable. Because Jester wanted the people to hear this, to understand the validity of what they had done. He wanted to see how she would take this outright refusal, this disrespect. He wanted it more than anything, his heart was racing. Yet, his body was still, as still as a statue as he asked his queen, the most essential question.

"It appears they do not bow my queen, they are refusing you, what is your verdict on the matter?"

WC: 1904 / 7000

Capture the Castle,

Everything was falling into place.

His Queen was playing the game, side by side, every word she spoke and action she made. Reflected her part perfectly, she was embracing it. With each moment, there were inching closer to the chaos he craved, the suffering she would befall to these lowly peasants. Squashing the no-good insects at her feet, and smiting the life from them under her pristine white shoes. She was so magnificent to spectate, and he only ached for more. More blood, more pain, more...everything. Her response to his heads up only seemed to stem his excitement more. It was coming, it really was. The Chaos. He instructed his clones in the dance and song, his mind sending out signals to each of them. Moving them as one, they were highly skilled, reflectively of his own capabilities. It was much like the dances and singing he had to do, every night when he stepped into the arena of that Circus tents. The crowd staring at his in anticipation, a natural they said, such talent they said. Until it was said no more.

The decade-old memories matter not right now; they were just aided in the perfection of the absurdity he was manifesting. The extravagant entrance, designed to ensnare the attention of the onlookers, and lift his Queen spirits. The greater her excitement, the worse it would be when these peasants disappointed her. And they would disappoint her; they were mere peasants after all. Their puny, pathetic minds were incapable of existing on the same level as a Game Player like herself or Jester. They were nothing, their blank faces nothing more than canvas that needs to be painted in anguish and blood. When the performance entered, and he had begun his great introduction, their reactions were as he expected. There was either two possibilities; they would either marvel, perhaps even treat them with a warm welcome. It would be the more disappointing reaction, the Queen was the type who enjoyed the appreciation of others, if these peasants acted like such, she would see no need to punish them, and Jester really did not want that. Then there was the other reaction, the reaction he hoped for; rejection. Right now, to get the satisfaction he desired, he wanted them to fail her.

And fail her, they did.

It began with their inability to recognise her as a Queen; she was immediately displeased with this response. And so he had moved onto the next part, of roughly manhandling the soldier and bombarding him with a zealous command. It would have been amusing if they had given in, bowed to her out of fear. That type of response, he might have found amusing. To watch them so filled with fear that they would throw away their pride and commit to such a display of weakness. Alas, that didn't seem to be the case, their stubborn refusal would be their downfall, and Jester would relish in it.

Her tone only seemed to grow more displeased, as she witnessed the exchange, and as Jester awaited her verdict. His golden eyes watched intently as she stroked the polar bear. Speaking of her initial intentions, and how they had changed. Her pinkish eyes met his, and she said the words.

Kill them all. Leave no survivors.

He stood there frozen from a moment, staring in a blissful trance from her words. His fingers began to shake, his lips quivered. A chuckle left his lips, stretching on it grew grandeur, he curled forward. Holding his stomach as he began to cackle hysterically, before throwing his head back. Eyes wide with manic delight, he bellowed with laughter. Stretching out his arms, cards began to appear. Floating around him, they began to dance, flying around him like a ring, they spun around him. As he couldn't to laugh hysterically and then they flew. Shooting out in all directions, they began their merciless attack. Even the clones had started running around manically, attacking anyone they good in a relentless fashion. He stopped cackling long enough to call out to the victims that were now trying to defend themselves from the sudden attacks.

"YOU HEAR THAT PEASANTS, THE QUEEN HAS SPOKEN; YOUR SENTENCE IS DEATH."

He twirled, flicking his wrist at another attacker. Six cards appeared from his palm, flying towards the man. They buried themselves into him, two in his left leg, three in his chest and one in the centre of his forehead. "Bullseye!" Jester chirped happily. He said felt a body latch on him; two men grabbed onto him. His smile dropped instantly, these peasants, their feelings hands. They were touching him; they were holding him, squeezing him tightly. Something in his mind snapped out of place. His expression moulded into something rare for him, a look of pure menacing rage. He suddenly began shrieking madly, pulling his arms inwards, he slammed the two men into each other forcefully. The force of the blow was enough to cause them both to loosen their grip on him. He slipped his arms out, reaching out once more, he grabbed the one to his left. Placing his hands on either side of his head, applying pressure, he twisted the neck sharply. The force and exertion of the moved making a cracking noise as the man neck was snapped. Without given his companion a moment to react, he summoned a single card in the left hand. Holding it between his index and middle finger, he slashed it across his throat, tearing the skin open and cause it to spatter with blood. He stood there for a moment, allowing the bodies to fall the floor. He was trembling with rage; they touched him, they had actually touched him. These filthy creatures touch him. His mind almost began to spiral out of control; his vision almost seem to fade under a red sheet. He was losing it; the insanity was taken over, filling his mind with nothing but red.


And then he heard her.

Her sweet, sinister, sing-song voice, was calling his name. The rage from his face slipped away as suddenly as it came. He looked at her, quite blankly. The red mist clearing as he looked upon his white queen, his face coated in the splatter of the blood of her victims. He remembered what he had been doing, he straightened. He had almost lost him to the red blanket of rage, that wouldn't have been fun. No, he needed to get back to the game.

He followed her gaze and saw the blonde woman. He turned his gaze to the door, that must lead further into the castle. His queen had made claims of wanting the castle for herself, so of course, she would want to explore the inside. To take it over completely, meant she needed to get it. Of course, this was part of the game. He needed to focus on the game, and focus on his queen. His black heels began to click against the concrete as he made his way over to the door. The Queen was savagely handling some more insects, delivering her cause with a combination of magic and swords. Jester reached up into the air and opened his palm. The was a ripple above him, and from the sky would fall a single red horn. He caught it in his open palm, before gently throwing it towards the door which was currently being guard be a group of soldiers. He then summoned a single playing card, twisting it he took a look. It was the six of spades. He glanced back at the soldiers, six of them, he smirked.

"A spade for each of you, dig, and dig and make a nice grave peasants." He threw the card, it soared through the air and struck the red horn than lay at their feet. The horn exploded, blowing all of the guards to pieces. It force cause the doors to be blasted away, leaving a path for his white queen.

WC: 1336
Total: 3240 / 7000

Capture the Castle,

The clown's golden eyes fell on the carcasses that now lay dispersed across the castle grounds; it was certainly becoming quite the mess. It was a shame if it hadn't been for those despicable men having grabbed at him he would've been enjoying this a great deal more. But Jester didn't like to be touched, especially not by men. That feeling, their hands, the restraint. It brought back a nostalgic feeling, one of sickening discomfort and misery. For so long he had endured those sick sensations, for so long it had gone on. The line of tolerance thinning with each day, his grip on reality slipping away as the pain went on and on. Until finally, he had snapped. Liberating himself from the torture threw merciless revenge, there had been no survivors then either. Because those disgusting beings, all of them, did not deserve to live. As did these folk running around the castle, his queen's orders were no less than what they were owed. Death and anguish and Jester would gladly bestow that to them.

The white queen ran over to him gleefully, pleased with the result of his little balloon. She continued on inside, peeking in like a curious child about to explore a playground. Jester snapped his fingers, and his clothes changed. His red cloak materialised over her, followed by his top hat that covered his flaming red hair and a white smiling mask that emerged over his face. He reached up, lifting the top hat from his hand, he leaned forward. Flipping the hat upside down, he placed it on the ground, with the opening facing upwards. He then straightened up, following after his queen as he stepped into the building after her. The hat began to tremble on its own; then from it, hairless, mutated rabbits started to leap out. Dispersing themselves in all directions, they began to chase after the remaining people. Regardless of whether they were living, injured or dead. The rabbits swarmed them, like hungry beasts foaming at their diseased mouths. They fell upon them, the only beings they avoided being Bear-Bear and the clown clones. They would be sure to complete things up nicely out here, infecting and killing anyone that tried to flee — therefore allowing the White Queen and her Jester to explore the inside of the castle at their leisure.

The inside of the castle was as to be expected of such a place, even more, grande on the inside as it was the outside. They had initially entered into a great hall, Jester's eyes scanned over the room. Taking in all of its detail, the exquisite white marble floor, the decorative pieces such as sconces, red carpeting and banners that matched. His eyes drifted from the interior over his queen; she was looking it all over with awe. It was clear she was satisfied with what she had found, behind his mask Jester smirked. His queen need was even more apparent now; she wanted to own it, to claim it as hers. A castle for a queen, it suited her well. He was only too happy to help her own it; Jester didn't need possessions. Not like this, his home was vastly different. But it suited his needs, his queen, however. Her nature was to take what she wanted, and better it was the more furiously she fought for it. It was clear, her determination and vigour were ruthless. It was just another factor that made her so exciting to watch.


Jester glanced around; it was quiet, too quiet. It didn't make sense that this place was not better guarded. They would not have put all of the guards outside. That would've been foolish, even for insects like these. He followed after his queen, his cane materialising in his hand. He would play with it as he watched, throwing it from palm to palm as they moved deeper into the castle. The blow came very suddenly out of nowhere; Jester watched unmoving as his queen was struck to the ground. He blinked in mild surprise. He stared at her, wondering if she was dead. Jester felt a slightly anxiousness as he stared, wondering if this was it for his white queen. He sincerely hoped his queen wouldn't fall so easily. Bear-bear angrily made his way towards them, furious that his master had been knocked down. If so, he would simply have to massacre these insects by himself. Torture and punish them for ruining his plans and killing his fellow Gamemaster.

Jester looked for a moment, wondering what his queen would do. Should he kill these men immediately, or watch to see if she got up. It would certainly be more fun to watch her get up and punish them for their insubordination. He saw her move slightly, and smirked widely behind his mask, his eyes lighting up with delight. Due to his face being covered, the men were clueless to his expression. He turned his head to those who were foolishly cheering their victory. Still smiling, it was just too pitiful, these fools didn't realise what they had done; the wrath that was upon them. He was pleased that the game hadn't come to such a sudden dull end, his queen would live on and so would deliver her ruling. He could follow her for a little longer at least. Her voice was loud, and so filled with rage, she climbed to her feet. Turning on the fools with murderous eyes, Jester trembled under the sight of it. Those eyes, that expression, it was utterly mesmerising.

She summoned an attack of rocks, taking out three of the onlookers. Two of them had managed to avoid death through elemental protection. She gave Jester a command, one he was happy to oblige. He skipped over to the remaining men waiting inside the bubble barrier, he leaned forward and wagged a gloved finger at them, he tutted.

"Naughty insects, We told you to bow when you had the chaaaance~"

He said almost teasingly, he stretched his arms out, in his palm he was holding a toy gun that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. He pointed it the one with the whistle. Smirking, he pulled the trigger, "Bang." He said playfully, with a giggle. From the end of the gun popped out a little white flag, on the flag was a sloppily drown face wearing a frown. The guy in the bubble let out a piercing scream. His mind suddenly rife with agonising pain, Jester watched as he fell to his knees. Screaming in agony, as he gripped onto his head as though he was losing his mind. He would see nothing but black, hear nothing but silence; his loss of two significant senses only heightening his attention to the mental strain he was now suffering.

"You bastard, what did you do to him!" Another guy shouted at him; he had a spear in his grasp. Raising his arm, he launched it at Jester. Jester twirled out of the way, almost doing a gracefully pirouette. Mid-turn, he brought his hands in, pushing the flag back inside the gun. As he turned to face the guy with the rocks again, he would point it once more. "Pow." He muttered as he clicked the trigger of the gun. A flag popped out once more, this time wearing a smiling face. Acid appeared from nowhere, raining down over the guy before he even had time to dodge it. He let out a piercing scream as his flesh was melted away.

He looked at the rest, who were looking on fearfully, clearly unsure whether to fight or flight. "Let's see... one, two..." Jester hopped from foot to foot, counting the remaining heads before him. "Thirteen! Thirteen fools that refused to bow," He said, the gun in his left hand disappeared. Replacing by a deck of cards, Jester began to shuffle them, looking over at his queen. She seemed rather displeased, having been attacked by lightning, her dress was now blackened and burnt, not to mention her body was most likely injured. Hmm, this wouldn't do; he needed his queen in high spirits, so they could have fun while they administered their punishment. He moved his hands around, passing the cards from one hand to the other, causing them to dance through the air. "Well you see, that just won't do." And with a flick of his fingers, the cards flew, piercing through the air bubble, they began hacking away at the crowd and aiming specifically for their legs, just above their knees. One by one, they fell down. Their legs shredded to pieces, some reduced to bloody stumps.

"See my queen, now they bow for you." He said gleefully, giggling as he admired his work. The screaming, the groans, the suffering. A pile of people, "Queenie, Queenie, why was the legless man immortal? Cause he couldn't kick the bucket!" Jester said, throwing back his head, he let out another overzealous cackle, amused by his own joke. He straightened up, looking at the men. "Let's see legless folk, are you immortal?" He said, he snapped his fingers, and from the entrance where they came. There was a beeping noise, his tiny clown car, small enough to fit through the cap came tumbling through the halls to where they were. Driving over to the horde of bodies, the car began to drive over them,  reversing back and forth over them completely until they were no longer moving. Jester shrugged, turning back to his queen, he shrugged.

"Guess not."


WC: 1592
Total: 4832 / 7000

Capture the Castle,

Jester's eyes fell on his queen, behind the mask they were alight with satisfaction. He could feel it; the air had grown thick. Desperation, panic, terror, pain and death. All of the delicious ingredients, one by one, through his own actions and those of his hungry queen. They had manifested quite the party, and what was a party without a clown. A clown who had this point was thoroughly enjoying himself. Aside from that one hiccup earlier, the moment of anguish he had just created with the clown car, watching as the bodies were horribly crushed and mutilated under the vehicle's weight. The screams that had slowly died down into quiet were music to his ears. He could feel the fear and shock radiating off the remaining individuals, the ones that had yet to be punished for their sins against his queen. Jester relished every moment of it; they were all going to pay. They would pay for thinking that could live out in this castle and hide from the world's truth, escape its horrors within its walls of refuge. No, the atrocities were being brought to them, they must be very disappointed. They would have thought they were safe in these mountains, oh how wrong they had been.

Jester sense that's the rabbits were not longer killing any humans, they had grown docile and were now just chomping away at the human flesh. He would allow them to work their way down to the bones before forcing them to disappear to where he had sourced them from. By the time they were done, the courtyard would be filled with skeletons. His bunnies were hungry beings; after all, they would not want to waste their meal and leave flesh behind. Of course, Jester couldn't guarantee the corpses would be picked clean, but they were most definitely beyond saving. No amount of magic could restore that amount of blood loss, at least not that Jester knew of. At the very least, there were no survivors outside of the castle. Inside, however, there were still a few insects yet to the picked off, that was unless his Queen decided to be merciful and allow them to live a little longer. Maybe let one survivor go so they could spread the word that this now belonged to the Majestic White Queen. Or perhaps, she would decide on complete annihilation, an entire castles-worth of people eradicated into nothing. Silenced by them, he wondered if the world would notice. Would they come to the castle to check, would they be mad? Would long-distance relatives mourn for the loss of the loved ones residing here? There were so many delicious possibilities. The backlash from this incident had the potential to create great waves.

Jester had made a great choice, following his queen here.

His queen who had been infuriated by having her dress ruined, and having been attacked, seem to perk up a little after witnessing Jester's graphic mutilation of the group that had been watching. She was still radiating fury, but combined with the giggling made him believe that she was at least still able to enjoy the carnage occurring around her. The queen pointed out her target, the same woman who had declared they kill them and stop them from entering the castle. Jester could only assume, she carried some form of authority in this place. Therefore it would make sense for his queen to want her dead. "Well, can't have a party without a clown!" He said with a snicker, before snapping his fingers. As a result, the bunnies outside vanished, as did the clown car crushing the bodies still and along with it all of the clones he had manifested. Jester didn't need them anymore, he could only pull out so many things at once, and right now he needed to make room for something else.

Jester clicked his fingers, and the air in the room would ripple in various spots. Out of nowhere, clown horns would drop from the sky randomly, an assortment of blue and red tips would land randomly in the path of the oncoming attackers. Not sure what they were, the men who hadn't entirely made it to the forefront yet, threw themselves out of the way to prevent themselves from landing on these 'mysterious' items. Only, this caused them to barge into each other, knocking some of their companions over, causing them to fall onto the horns. The room echoed in a series of 'booms', those that landed on the red-tipped clown horns, were hit with a small explosion, blowing them apart. While those who stepped on a blue-tipped clown horn would be hit with a sudden burst of white noise, this sound magic would cause their bodies to go limp. Their faces frozen in fear as they were sudden rendered immobile. Some of those who became paralysed would even fall onto the red-tipped clown horn, which would result in the primary effect.

Jester smirked at the carnage this had created, he could feel the panic in the room rising. It wasn't every day you watched people blown to pieces, blood and limbs flying everywhere. It was certainly not a sight for the faint-hearted. The clown snapped his fingers once more, and either side of him, two wooden puppets appeared from the air. The pair landed next to him; they were barely a foot and a half tall. One clearly dressed as a male and the other a female, with creepy expressions painted on their wooden faces. The male doll carried a butchers knife, and the female doll carried a carving knife. Jester nodded his head, and the two stringless puppets ran ahead. Finding those who had only suffered paralysis and mercilessly hacking away at them. Once they were sure their targets were dead, the puppets would simply move on to the next victim. Jester spun on his head, bobbing along to his queens' sing-song regarding princes, he engaged in a spectacular dance of violence, and blood. Holding a card in each hand, he manoeuvred them like blades. Jester's golden eyes fell on a man, unlike the others, his armour was 'fancier', and he was of a bigger build. He looked like some kind of general. The man charged him; this time Jester was ready; he would not touch him as the others had. He darted out of the mans reach, swinging his left hand across, the edge of the card would slice away at the man side. Jester twirled on his heel, dropping low. He sliced once more, only this time along with his thigh. And so, this attack of carefully articulated cuts would continue, he would dance around the man, avoiding his punches gracefully, weaving in and out, carving away until the man was left panting. Blood pouring from all the wounds the clown had created, he was, of course, toying with. It was just too much fun, this one was determined, Jester liked that.

"You... will lose... "

The man said,  his breathing was ragged, his speech was slurred, he was suffering greatly from his wounds. Jester hopped from one foot to the other, "Well maybe so, but games are no fun if there's no loss involved, only you see. I want to be chased around the board by all the wonderful pieces the world has to offer me, did you see? I found my queen. I did, I found her. And you see, your queen," He would indicate towards the blonde woman who was now engaging in a fight with his queen. The man also glanced in the direction of the women, completely unaware that Jack, the puppet was creeping along towards the two of them. "Is about to be put into checkmate by my queen. Shall we watch, yes let us watch this wonderful show." Jester suddenly rushed forward, dropping low, his swiped his right leg under the man. Knocking him off his feet, he straightened up. The man attempted to sit up, and as he did, he spotted the male puppet who had suddenly darted forward. Butcher's knife in the air, the doll brought it sweeping down with a hard thud, the soldier screamed in anguish as the blade carved directly through several layers of flesh into buried itself into the bone. Jester giggled, skipping around the man, he crouched down behind him. He placed his hands on either side of the man's head. "Shh, Shh, it's okay, it's okay. The pain will be gone soon. In the meantime, let us watch the final act." He forcibly turned the head of the man, who was forced to watch as the blonde woman's head at that moment was lopped off. Jester leaned down, bringing his mouth close to the ear of the man, whispering loud enough so that he could hear his words over the chaos. "Long live the queen~" He repeated her words, before twisting the neck sharply, snapping the joints in his neck and ultimately killing the man. Jack, stood there, trying to pull out his butcher's knife, it was clear that the blade had buried itself too deeply for the small puppet to yank out on his own. Jester moved around the man, reaching down, he would help the puppet yank it out before handing it to him. The puppet looked up at its master gratefully,

"Heads on pikes?" It asked in a squeaky robotic voice, another repetition of the white queen's words. It almost sounded as though it was speaking of its own volition, but in truth, it's words were being manipulated by the clown man. Regardless, Jester nodded back, "Heads on pikes Jack, Heads on pikes." The puppet squeal gleefully, before running off, swinging the bloody butcher's knife excitedly as it moved to another body and began chopping at it. Jester straightened up, hearing his queen's order to move towards the throne room. He nodded, he would open up his palm, and several cards appeared. He threw them into the air, and one by one they flew out, finding the remaining men, they would be sliver across their throats and cut them open. Causing blood to come pouring out, and for each of them to fall down dead. He would then go to follow her. Jack and Jill who had been hacking away at the remaining bodies to make sure they were definitely dead. Stopped, looking at each other, they ran towards each other. Holding hands, they skipped along together after the Queen, her Jester and the mighty polar bear.

They moved through the main hall, watching as his Queen uses her rocks to bust through another door. Commenting that it could be fixed at a later date. He followed her into the room, which revealed a rather curious individual. A man with his face plastered in many paintings throughout the building. Surrounded by a few, clearly less important folk. They must have been hiding in here in hopes of avoiding the fighting and danger. Jester turned his head slowly, eying them through the slits in his creepy white, blood-spattered mask. His queen made her statement to the room, declaring her ownership of the castle and with it, their lives. It thrilled the clown to see how well she had taken to this role. No, one could have been a better candidate for such a wonderful feat. Her need to be permitted, for others to allow her as she was, to never refuse her. It had erupted into such a delicious unfolding of sins, all wrapped up in her bountiful body. She addressed the man in the chair, the main player in this final stage of the game.

"Yes, yes, no bowing to the queen, means game over. Time for checkmate." He said gleefully, moving his arms outwards. He summoned one final deck of cards, the entire set of fifty-two. They rose into the air, fluttering around him for a moment like butterflies. The people would be uncertain for a moment, not sure how to move. "Do you like card games?" He said softly, "Then let's play blackjack." A card soared forward, burying itself into the stomach of a woman nearest to him, the card displaying a 'six', Jester launched another, this card had a 'seven'. It buried itself in the woman shoulder; Jester would giggle excitedly. Before launching one more card, the eight of spades buried itself deep into her forehead. Jester let out a happy cackle, "TWENTY-ONE, HA HA ON THE FIRST TRY. DID YOU SEE QUEENIE?!" He said clapping exciting, "Now who's next?" The room quickly fell into chaos, and the folk watching attempted to flee. But Jack and Jill had positioned themselves in the doorway, blades ready, then began jumping at anyone attempting to flee.

Jester continued to run away manically, launching cards at anyone nearby, counting manically as he continued to hit twenty-one. Over and over again, allowing the Queen to do whatever she wished with the 'important man'. He could feel it. The end was nigh. So he wouldn't stop, not until he got his fill. This final feel of suffering. Until, the queen and his jester won the game, and as a result,

Conquered the castle.


WC: 2197
Total: 7029 / 7000

Capture the Castle,