Fools seldom differ

Life is two days and Carnival is three! [[Semi-active rp blog for ACR's Ottoman Jester]]

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slap that like button to supercharge this post to launch a kamehameha into this website and revive the ac rp fandom

[eyesintheshadows]

WHERE IS THE CLOWN

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hey gays

[allsoundsasscreed]

“It’s not me they’re laughing at!” - The Ottoman Jester (Dulcamara)

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lmao ok

I miiiiight regret this but

like this post for a starter, inbox for plot

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Finally created a verses page! Still under works, but you can check it on v.verses on my blog if you so wish!

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seeyouinthedarkness liked this post for a starter

“You are one of the Order, yes?” his directions were clear and still Dulcamara found place for doubt. After all, all white cowls were described to him as The Enemy, yet this man, presented to him as an ally, donned the very same cloth, apparently with no shame or fear. It was strange, confusing, but ultimately, below him.

Dulcamara had so special concern for the bigger conflict between the people who had given him his luxurious life and their enemies. He did as asked, out of respect and debt and no personal vendetta.

“Cel Tradat, I have been told. If I understood correctly, you’ve been causing quite a stir among the streets of our fair Istanbul.” he spoke with a quiet, almost superior tone to his voice “None of my business of course, but when I’m ordered to cooperate with you, I worry.”

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larosafatale liked this post for a starter

“Rome is incredibly dull!” the jester turned to his colleague as he sat down on a nearby crate “Wouldn’t you agree?”

He felt uneasy walking the streets of Rome. It was all too foreign yet all too familiar the same time. Nothing like the life he was used to in Istanbul and yet... Weird. Never in his life he thought he would hear something akin to Italian being widely spoken in the streets, not since being invited to leave Venice, to put it on mild terms.

Working in the streets of Rome was certainly different than working in the halls of  Topkapı Palace - the absolute, horrendous lack of humor these commoners displayed, for one! - but orders were orders, and that day he had been ordered to do what he did best, play the fool and listen. With him, a companion for the mission, or so it had been described to him that way, although Dulcamara suspected she was simply there to keep an eye on him (and who could blame Cesare himself? Whence comes this fool who claims to be sent by an ally?).

“I listened for hours but hardly found anything of value.” he fretted “or perhaps everyone here speaks in code or something I am not familiar with. Were we in a more refined environment, I might had been able to get something...”

How embarrassing, to fail so spectacularly in front of such a beautiful lady.

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thevenetianlibrarian liked this post for a starter

Dulcamara had never quite learned how to read; he knew the basics yes, and always managed to understand the gist of any and all letters he received but never bothered to extend his knowledge. Never cared.

On that day, however, something caught his eye. A small bookshop, hidden among the hustle & bustle of Istanbul, its books out in the sun, small breeze caressing their covers. Normally, the jester would not care - books were never his thing - but these were different, as he recognized the roman alphabet on their covers. Venetian books!

Something tingled inside him, a sensation he was familiar with but would never admit to. He missed home.

Peeking inside, he searched for the shopkeeper “Excuse me, about these books...”

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ilufficiale​ liked this post for a starter

He was unfamiliar with the ranks among the roman templars - and why wouldn’t he be? It was the same Order, yes, but hardly similar in their methods - but he was assured he would be met by one of Cesare’s most trusted agents (and thus his superior) upon his arrival in Rome. Why prince Ahmet had sent him back to the Apennine Peninsula, he could only speculate. Perhaps they lacked a proper entertainer in Rome? Possible.

Still, if he was to be the liaison between Rome and Istanbul, so be it. Dulcamara straightened his outfit as best as he could after setting foot on the docks, trying his best to look presentable, as if he hadn’t wasted weeks on board of some lousy ship. Now all that was left was to find this... officer Viscardi. The jester was unfamiliar with the officer but he had faith they would meet very soon.

After all, Dulcamara was everything but discreet.

[carnevaledivenezia]

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lmao ok

I miiiiight regret this but

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[carnevaledivenezia]

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I was foolish enough to dig up and remake this old account, mostly out of nostalgia, I suppose. I’m gonna follow/re-follow some people but I’m still not sure if I’ll be active.

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[nyiro]

Dulcamara