A curious Jester
prince-of-ruins said: "If you want to kill yourself, do not use us as your knife." (Elric to Jester, referring to Stormbringer and himself)
Having spotted the albino man Jester had been utterly unable to control itself. A bright smile spreading across the full faced ivory and black Venetian mask that served the being as a face. Few ever learned if it actually was a mask, a real shape change, or simply a Fae glamour. Such a unique individual didn't deserve to die, not yet, not quickly, no no. One must discover first if the uniqueness extended to that which was inside, to the mind, to the spirit, to how he thought or if the seeming uniqueness was like so many others nothing more then skin deep and so easily cut away as to be boring.
Waiting for Elric to get to an isolated area so that Jester could introduce itself finally Jester had ran out of patience and given in when it was Elric and some other random person that seemed not at all interesting. A maid, a noble person, a whore, a witch, Jester neither knew nor cared. One quick teleport, a stiletto dagger pulled out and a flip of a cane as it turned spinning with a dark giggle getting at least one person's attention specifically that of its intended victim then with one quick lunge that same boring person found themselves quite improved. Eyes wide, blood flowing from a second wide mouth opened along the throat hands reaching up for a moment to stop the blood before two quick stabs from Jester to the shoulders made those hands drop back down and the person land on the floor as their feet gave out. A soft little cackle from Jester as the being leaned in to examine the dying person before pausing hearing Elric. Tilting it's head one way and then the next it seemed to consider the comment then smoothly stood straight as it's mask reformed once more letting a tear drop form under one eye as the full lips seemed to turn downwards into a pout. The eyes themselves were completely black.
“Tick tock all must things must die, yes yes indeed. All things, all people. Not I though, not yet, not here, no no. Not the Jester, still more to meet, more to make more interesting, more blood to spill. You perhaps, or perhaps not. You seem interesting, but are you or are you just another weak boring little thing?” Head slowly swaying from left to right and then back again it's voice was singsongy and melodic. “Old man tried to get up, bumped his head, couldn't get back up again. Boring, boring, are you more interesting? Who are you? Prey or Predator? Boring or exciting? Worthwhile, or worth nothing? Who, who, what? Tell me, tell me!” For all Jester's vaguely manic curiosity, mask, head movements, and cane which even now was slowly twirling between the being's fingers there was no sense at all of humor. Not a clown nor a court fool to amuse this, but something far different that just happened to be a predator in the guise of a Jester.
