Post by The Diabolique on Jan 30, 2008 15:53:07 GMT 8
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 2:15:42 AM): There came a subtle growl; light as a feather, but it seemed to split the very air. The humans abound did nothing, if they even noticed. But the sound seemed to have been directed toward the younger creature. As for its origins; the dark beast of the shadows stalked across the nearby rooftops. Slowly matching her pace with that of the younger Harlequin. Steady and with ease, leaping from one rooftop to the next; or simply slinking from one shadow to another, yet her feral cat-like eyes, ever were trained upon the visage. So what interested this one so much? The beast wondered. if she could speak, she would have done so. A vicious warning to back away. Yet she was not inclined much, lest she incur her Master's wrath for interferring. And so she stalked. Kept him in sight. <C>
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 2:15:55 AM): The Diabolique Harlequin rose up and out of his shadowy existence once again. He appeared several steps behind the younger Harlequin. So close and yet he could be so far away by the time the younger one could ever turn around. A few languid strides forward; and the shadow itself would be, yes, standing just behind the younger sibling, almost bearing down, that overwhelming sensation was astronomical. Towering above, or made to appear so, one could almost feel the breath from behind those parting lips. Cold and malicious. Malevolent and alluring. " Looking for someone," the disembodiment of a voice would come to ask. Though at the slightiest hint of movement, or by the time the Harlequin turned around, the Diabolique was gone; down into the shadows yet again. <E>
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 2:45:23 AM): As the young being heard the voice, a shiver ran down his spine as if he were thrust into the cold. His entire body felt cold, and he dared not move. He didn't feel anyone behind him, but he knew that the voice came from behind. He closed his eyes, shaking his head. His raspy voice eeked out from behind the mask, although it was barely above a whisper. "It all depends..." The young Jester turned his head to look behind him, though the being the voice belonged to, had it been there at all, was gone. He sighed. Turning his head back around, he let his gloved digits brush his orange locks from his face. He didn't like being stalked. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting off into itself. `Why me?` He thought to himself. `Why am I suddenly the being of desire?` (C)
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-{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 2:45:34 AM): He ponderd this for a few moments, almost wishing that the small black duck would join the conversation. He waited, quietly, for something that would never come. He sighed and turned his porcleain face to the crowd of people. They seemed to be avoiding him, by any means possible. He watched as women tugged their children across the street to keep from getting close ot him. Scoffing, he threw them a disgusted glance. He would kill them. He would kill them all... but he was the one being hunted now, and he had to stay alert and keep himself clam. (e)
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 2:57:47 AM): The Diabolique Harlequin rose up out of that dark water; silently he broke through the calm surface of the pool within his lair. His disturbance caused a black ripple to extend out through and spread across, where they lapped up quietly against the marble sides. " And those that hunt for me; so in turn do they become the hunted, eh, my princess," he said within the cold blackness of the chamber. His voice slighty bounced back and forth between the onyx walls, echoing back into the nothingness. The only reply, other than his own voice, was the stalking creeping of the beast as she slithered from the shadows and licked at his fingers, where he wiggled them back and forth before her eyes. " Interesting indeed." The jaguar thingyed her head as if to question. <C>
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 2:58:00 AM): This was so unlike her Master. He wasn't known for appearing before others. He gave her a reassuring gesture, sliding his long and slender digits back through the length of the furr over the top of her head, and scritched here and there behind her ears. " I am merely curious, is all," he said as if to answer the look that had appeared in those glowing eyes, that nearly matched his own. To see the level of intelligence that lingered within the sentient creation. The Diabolique Harlequin turned about and stepped forward and waded back out into the night-dark waters, until he was waist deep, until his pale legs were swallowed into that gaping mouth. It was the beginning of a game. Now to see what the pieces were up to. And he leaned forward, submerging himself once more. <E>
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 3:13:46 AM): The young harlequin lurched forward from his place upon the wall. If he was to find the being who he saw in the church, it was best to look for him, rather then wait for him to show up. He knew that the being could decend into shadow, but perhaps...he could come from the too? The Jester quickly let his orange orbs scan the streets, looking for any kind of shadow. He let a soft chuckle pass his lips, almost as though he were mocking himself. This was not going to be easy, as this city had more shadows than a sow hat teats. He shook his pale masque lightly, letting his head hand lightly. ""Giving up already, I see."" The voice echoed into his mind like a ripple though a pond. ""Just put a task in front of you and you give up without so much as an attempt. (c)
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 3:14:01 AM): Why do you even bother carrying on? Why do you still walk the land? Why do you wake up? Can't you see? You are pathetic! You are nothing! Worthless. You seek something that is out of your reach, and once you have the chance, you sniffle and whine because it does not come to you."" The young harlequin clutched his gloved hands tightly into fists. He could feel his anger growing, but he knew that this was not the place to argue with the duck. ""Thats right. Throw a tantrum just like a child. No wonder this being dosn't take you seriously. He is merely playing with you."" The Jester twitched with fury, his raspy voice sputtering out a low growl. He slammed his fist against the wall, causing it to crack a little beneath his limb. "Shut up!" (c)
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 3:14:11 AM): He barked, though he forgot that the voice was in his head. With that, the people around him began to whisper, and talk to themselves. The malicious voice of the duck echoed with laughter as the other voices began to whisper too. ""You see! They are talking about you. They know how weak you are as well! Listen to them. They are telling their children to avoid you. You are a freak to them."" As the taunting continued, the Jester could feel more and more of his mind slipping, as though he were loosing his grip.(e)
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 3:26:57 AM): But was it possible? Plausible that these parents were pulling their children away because of this strange Harlequin; one that seemed to whisper and shout amidst himself. Or could it be they were merely afraid. Was there anything truly to fear? Dozens of people began to scatter, as the Diabolique Harlequin rose up and out of their own very shadows, as they were hijacked and take over, pulled across the ground and forming a seeimgly dark hole into the darkness; from whence he rose like a phoenix, like some dark messiah. Levitating, the tips of his boots barely brushing over the surface of the street, and then he seemed to step down, like walking down a short flight of stairs, where his heels made contact, thudding with faint click-clacks. His arms were folded over his chest, <C>
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 3:27:10 AM): much similar and akin to that of a vampire upon awakeing. As he pulled them away, spreading them out lightly, one to either side, the shadows swept back with a sudden gust of commotion, trailing up and attaching to his very gesture, as the darkness slithered and coiled and flared outward resembling a large pair of feathered black wings, flapping lazily and then dissappearing all the same. He stood in the center ring. His head bowed. Chin touching his chest. His eyes were closed, and long ebon strands were caught in the breeze, lifted and flung back. Beneath his now cupping hands, a cane formed, like those of a gentlemen, which held a crystal, black, round, fixed upon its top, which he seemed to lean forward against. People seemed to forget, as if he were not even really there.<E>
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 3:42:59 AM): Just as his mind began to cloud, that bruning arose within his chest. The sibling. The one he was after... Could it be? The Jester couldn't place his finger on where, but he knew he was close. He let his orange orbs scan the crowd, though it seemed almost useless. He knew not what the being looked like, having only caught vague glances. This was turning out to be more of a challenge than he expected. He folded his arms, his hand resting upon the cold cheek of his masque. His digits wiggled and danced upon the porcelain as the Jester lost himself in thought. It seemed that he Hunter wished to let the prey know he was here. The game was unfolding, and the Jester was running out of cards. The duck's voice seemed to grow louder and louder, and as the people whispered, (c)
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 3:43:14 AM): the voices seemed to whisper and mock him more. He felt dizzy, and he lifted his masque to the sun. He lofted his gloved hand over his eyes, shading them from the blazing sun. "The acursed daystar..." He grumbled, stumbling toward the shadows. He had to brace himself upon the building for support. `Why...` He thought to himself. `Why is it...every time I grow close to this being, I feel weak...?` He let his mind drift off, almost as if he were asking the duck again. Though like before, the voice didn't answer. The young harlequin didn't understand. Why was it when he wished to have the voice answer, nothing happened, but when he wished peace, the voice was always there. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he made his way slowly down the street. (c)
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 3:43:31 AM): He let his gloved hand drag along the wall, scanning the crowds for some clue as to where he was supposed to look next.
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 3:54:02 AM): Could those young eyes not perceive? Could they not see the air where it warbled, as if something not of this world was ripping the very fabric, the tapestry of reality. Where it seemed to ooze and run like melting wax against a flame? The Diabolique Harlequin needed not to lift his hiead, nor, open his eyes to know the young one was standing. His senses were alive! Sharp and cunning, honed against the wetstone of his own personal experiences, until he was a careful and calculating creature. Simple humans could just not comprehend or come to understand his nature; his Being. So in there own little fantasy, they overlooked his presence, but they seemed to avoid that one particular location; giving him a somewhat of a birth on either side. As if some part of there simplistic <C>
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 3:54:17 AM): minds were in some way, possessing of that supersticious knowledge of avoiding direct contact. It was how they, as humans, had survived so long. Being afraid of the Darkness. The wind shifted directions, and would come to push the faint scent of his essence in the general direction of the younger Harlequin. Lips curled into a smile, obscured as his hair rushed forward to fill the gap, like a mask of sorts, swaying in front of his face, hanging low, and well past his shoulders. The game was a foot. And yet he wondered; Where was this mysterious Muse? Was she watching? Waiting? Plotting her next intervention? Or was she here in the crowd. A twitch of his smile transformed it into a smirk. If he sought her out, would he, in turn, become hunted, as he stalked this one here? <E>
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 2:15:55 AM): The Diabolique Harlequin rose up and out of his shadowy existence once again. He appeared several steps behind the younger Harlequin. So close and yet he could be so far away by the time the younger one could ever turn around. A few languid strides forward; and the shadow itself would be, yes, standing just behind the younger sibling, almost bearing down, that overwhelming sensation was astronomical. Towering above, or made to appear so, one could almost feel the breath from behind those parting lips. Cold and malicious. Malevolent and alluring. " Looking for someone," the disembodiment of a voice would come to ask. Though at the slightiest hint of movement, or by the time the Harlequin turned around, the Diabolique was gone; down into the shadows yet again. <E>
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 2:45:23 AM): As the young being heard the voice, a shiver ran down his spine as if he were thrust into the cold. His entire body felt cold, and he dared not move. He didn't feel anyone behind him, but he knew that the voice came from behind. He closed his eyes, shaking his head. His raspy voice eeked out from behind the mask, although it was barely above a whisper. "It all depends..." The young Jester turned his head to look behind him, though the being the voice belonged to, had it been there at all, was gone. He sighed. Turning his head back around, he let his gloved digits brush his orange locks from his face. He didn't like being stalked. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting off into itself. `Why me?` He thought to himself. `Why am I suddenly the being of desire?` (C)
.
-{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 2:45:34 AM): He ponderd this for a few moments, almost wishing that the small black duck would join the conversation. He waited, quietly, for something that would never come. He sighed and turned his porcleain face to the crowd of people. They seemed to be avoiding him, by any means possible. He watched as women tugged their children across the street to keep from getting close ot him. Scoffing, he threw them a disgusted glance. He would kill them. He would kill them all... but he was the one being hunted now, and he had to stay alert and keep himself clam. (e)
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 2:57:47 AM): The Diabolique Harlequin rose up out of that dark water; silently he broke through the calm surface of the pool within his lair. His disturbance caused a black ripple to extend out through and spread across, where they lapped up quietly against the marble sides. " And those that hunt for me; so in turn do they become the hunted, eh, my princess," he said within the cold blackness of the chamber. His voice slighty bounced back and forth between the onyx walls, echoing back into the nothingness. The only reply, other than his own voice, was the stalking creeping of the beast as she slithered from the shadows and licked at his fingers, where he wiggled them back and forth before her eyes. " Interesting indeed." The jaguar thingyed her head as if to question. <C>
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 2:58:00 AM): This was so unlike her Master. He wasn't known for appearing before others. He gave her a reassuring gesture, sliding his long and slender digits back through the length of the furr over the top of her head, and scritched here and there behind her ears. " I am merely curious, is all," he said as if to answer the look that had appeared in those glowing eyes, that nearly matched his own. To see the level of intelligence that lingered within the sentient creation. The Diabolique Harlequin turned about and stepped forward and waded back out into the night-dark waters, until he was waist deep, until his pale legs were swallowed into that gaping mouth. It was the beginning of a game. Now to see what the pieces were up to. And he leaned forward, submerging himself once more. <E>
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 3:13:46 AM): The young harlequin lurched forward from his place upon the wall. If he was to find the being who he saw in the church, it was best to look for him, rather then wait for him to show up. He knew that the being could decend into shadow, but perhaps...he could come from the too? The Jester quickly let his orange orbs scan the streets, looking for any kind of shadow. He let a soft chuckle pass his lips, almost as though he were mocking himself. This was not going to be easy, as this city had more shadows than a sow hat teats. He shook his pale masque lightly, letting his head hand lightly. ""Giving up already, I see."" The voice echoed into his mind like a ripple though a pond. ""Just put a task in front of you and you give up without so much as an attempt. (c)
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 3:14:01 AM): Why do you even bother carrying on? Why do you still walk the land? Why do you wake up? Can't you see? You are pathetic! You are nothing! Worthless. You seek something that is out of your reach, and once you have the chance, you sniffle and whine because it does not come to you."" The young harlequin clutched his gloved hands tightly into fists. He could feel his anger growing, but he knew that this was not the place to argue with the duck. ""Thats right. Throw a tantrum just like a child. No wonder this being dosn't take you seriously. He is merely playing with you."" The Jester twitched with fury, his raspy voice sputtering out a low growl. He slammed his fist against the wall, causing it to crack a little beneath his limb. "Shut up!" (c)
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 3:14:11 AM): He barked, though he forgot that the voice was in his head. With that, the people around him began to whisper, and talk to themselves. The malicious voice of the duck echoed with laughter as the other voices began to whisper too. ""You see! They are talking about you. They know how weak you are as well! Listen to them. They are telling their children to avoid you. You are a freak to them."" As the taunting continued, the Jester could feel more and more of his mind slipping, as though he were loosing his grip.(e)
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 3:26:57 AM): But was it possible? Plausible that these parents were pulling their children away because of this strange Harlequin; one that seemed to whisper and shout amidst himself. Or could it be they were merely afraid. Was there anything truly to fear? Dozens of people began to scatter, as the Diabolique Harlequin rose up and out of their own very shadows, as they were hijacked and take over, pulled across the ground and forming a seeimgly dark hole into the darkness; from whence he rose like a phoenix, like some dark messiah. Levitating, the tips of his boots barely brushing over the surface of the street, and then he seemed to step down, like walking down a short flight of stairs, where his heels made contact, thudding with faint click-clacks. His arms were folded over his chest, <C>
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 3:27:10 AM): much similar and akin to that of a vampire upon awakeing. As he pulled them away, spreading them out lightly, one to either side, the shadows swept back with a sudden gust of commotion, trailing up and attaching to his very gesture, as the darkness slithered and coiled and flared outward resembling a large pair of feathered black wings, flapping lazily and then dissappearing all the same. He stood in the center ring. His head bowed. Chin touching his chest. His eyes were closed, and long ebon strands were caught in the breeze, lifted and flung back. Beneath his now cupping hands, a cane formed, like those of a gentlemen, which held a crystal, black, round, fixed upon its top, which he seemed to lean forward against. People seemed to forget, as if he were not even really there.<E>
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 3:42:59 AM): Just as his mind began to cloud, that bruning arose within his chest. The sibling. The one he was after... Could it be? The Jester couldn't place his finger on where, but he knew he was close. He let his orange orbs scan the crowd, though it seemed almost useless. He knew not what the being looked like, having only caught vague glances. This was turning out to be more of a challenge than he expected. He folded his arms, his hand resting upon the cold cheek of his masque. His digits wiggled and danced upon the porcelain as the Jester lost himself in thought. It seemed that he Hunter wished to let the prey know he was here. The game was unfolding, and the Jester was running out of cards. The duck's voice seemed to grow louder and louder, and as the people whispered, (c)
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 3:43:14 AM): the voices seemed to whisper and mock him more. He felt dizzy, and he lifted his masque to the sun. He lofted his gloved hand over his eyes, shading them from the blazing sun. "The acursed daystar..." He grumbled, stumbling toward the shadows. He had to brace himself upon the building for support. `Why...` He thought to himself. `Why is it...every time I grow close to this being, I feel weak...?` He let his mind drift off, almost as if he were asking the duck again. Though like before, the voice didn't answer. The young harlequin didn't understand. Why was it when he wished to have the voice answer, nothing happened, but when he wished peace, the voice was always there. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he made his way slowly down the street. (c)
. -{Illustrex}- . (1/29/2008 3:43:31 AM): He let his gloved hand drag along the wall, scanning the crowds for some clue as to where he was supposed to look next.
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 3:54:02 AM): Could those young eyes not perceive? Could they not see the air where it warbled, as if something not of this world was ripping the very fabric, the tapestry of reality. Where it seemed to ooze and run like melting wax against a flame? The Diabolique Harlequin needed not to lift his hiead, nor, open his eyes to know the young one was standing. His senses were alive! Sharp and cunning, honed against the wetstone of his own personal experiences, until he was a careful and calculating creature. Simple humans could just not comprehend or come to understand his nature; his Being. So in there own little fantasy, they overlooked his presence, but they seemed to avoid that one particular location; giving him a somewhat of a birth on either side. As if some part of there simplistic <C>
the_diabolique_harlequin (1/29/2008 3:54:17 AM): minds were in some way, possessing of that supersticious knowledge of avoiding direct contact. It was how they, as humans, had survived so long. Being afraid of the Darkness. The wind shifted directions, and would come to push the faint scent of his essence in the general direction of the younger Harlequin. Lips curled into a smile, obscured as his hair rushed forward to fill the gap, like a mask of sorts, swaying in front of his face, hanging low, and well past his shoulders. The game was a foot. And yet he wondered; Where was this mysterious Muse? Was she watching? Waiting? Plotting her next intervention? Or was she here in the crowd. A twitch of his smile transformed it into a smirk. If he sought her out, would he, in turn, become hunted, as he stalked this one here? <E>