Post by Meme d'Circus Harlequin Mother on Feb 11, 2008 3:09:28 GMT 8
Like so many fairy tales this one had an evil older brother figure and a less experienced but admirable youngest daughter... but that is the fairy tales and this was a family on the way to hell anyways. Shrouded in the madness of the brother and the splintered memories of the youngest daughter the kernel of the future family called the Harlequins arose. Even to each other and their closest ones, the story is confusing with multiple variations which shift from the future to the past to war and assassination to gangland fights then on to regicide and fratricide. The resulting information and its reliability are as tenuous as their grip on reality, changing like the smoke in the wind.
Maybe this is a real version but then only a fool... sorry no pun intended ...would believe much that a Harlequin would say... even if it came from the mouth of the one called Mother... or Meme de Circus. Her name literally translates into the Mother of the Circus so quite appropriate nee? She birthed the monstrosities with the help of her parasitic Ruby an obscene union of woman and soul-hungry semi-sentient jewel.
This obscene family, a loose relation of unreal Mother and children, if you can call it that, numbers only 12 plus their little minions and assorted hunters. She is the source, the essence that binds together the wicked family called the Harlequins, a traveling band of psychopaths and jesters with bloody trickery to steal your life or your soul. These wicked jesters of doom spread their little chaos on an equal opportunity basis. Boredom is anathema to them so be warned if you come across a child of Meme or Meme herself. It might be fun. For them and maybe you for a short time.
Meme had another name in the past but then the shattering events of past crashed together, combining to bring about ever such a melodramatic transformation. Her family was scum... really honestly... The vile treatment as the unruly deviant child with her malign affliction was the only thing that saved her from another's plan. She was the youngest of a somewhat ambitious ruling family. She figured her life wouldn’t be worth a lot if the fact of her malady wasn’t kept secret. You see... If she touched you... Well, basically... the chances were that it would kill you.
Normal at birth, her unpleasant ability didn't surface until puberty. Something she received in secret? Possibly, a family member poisoned her but her recovery lead to further complications due to later explained conditions. She had something under her skin besides the bones and muscles that most had. It was something almost alive that wanted to escape, but when it had at times when she wasn’t careful. It broke down the bonds within the body recombining them in freakish and usually lethal ways- Her puppy’s skeleton grew outside its back, the time it had bitten her in play. What happened to her cat- well better left unsaid after it clawed her. Three headed beasts weren’t really that common you know?
She called it the Plague Touch for now, silently in her mind, the purplish yellow marks moved around under her skin anxiously awaiting an opportunity to escape then infect another. Not sure where this had come from but knowing she couldn't tell her family that she was responsible for the deaths of her pets and one of her body servants unless she wanted to be used by one of her family against the others.
The one who would become Meme retreated behind a bizarre costume. Abandoning the scanty court dress popular with her kind, she started wearing a dark velvety full-length body stocking. It clothed her limbs completely blocking casual contact, combined with gloves up to her elbow. The strangest thing to her family was the act of putting on thick layers of make up over her face or her deliberate wearing of a mask. Believing these actions to protect her were signs of madness, her family shut her away in an unused wing of the Family residence.
Now actually, she rather preferred this lonely life. The back stabbing and pettiness of her brothers and sisters were now gone and peace came to her little sanctuary. She rested undisturbed as the plague touch grew in strength and the marks grew darker and moved more frequently. Rarely visited by even servants, she was at peace until the ever so clichéd arrival of her oldest brother’s ambitions. After several years of benign neglect, the day of her death arrived.
It started with a smell and a vague element of chill in the air as if the sun had suddenly been hidden by clouds. With little warning one she considered like - if not better than her real brothers- had done something to ensure his vengeance with cold blooded acts. He chose the shadow world and its inhabitants as his sword for the reaping. With no way to ward against the attack, first a cloud descended over the palace. The lands grew cold and then darkness at noon. An eclipse allowed the calling of shadow creatures a mad slaughter started. Her overbearing Mother was bathing when the water turned crimson; her veins popped open in her wrists.
Then her father was next as he lay in bed with one of his concubines, the shadows of the room swirled over him and his head was sliced clear off so his blood fountained over his woman who like a good mistress followed, her head joining his as it rolled sightless on the floor. The royal children followed along with whoever was nearby, the shadows moving from one to another so that blood flowed over the floors in a thick viscous pool.
Whatever servants could escape the blood bath did until all who was left was the mad child in the abandoned wing. The screams had started hours before but the one who would be Meme was trapped behind locked doors and couldn’t escape. Resting in the small courtyard in the dull light of a gloomy day, she awaited the end. Her body completely clothed and her mask in place. She played a game of cards on a polished table, the deck resting in her gloved hands as a solid shadow crept along the walls and partially solidified into a familiar figure.
“Ahh brother...” she whispered in her light girlish voice. “You couldn’t wait then.” She was unsurprised at the glowing madness in his countenance knowing in a tiny part of her mind that he didn’t recognize her. “You did the forbidden to take my Father’s place” Enola’s shadow form was silent a moment as it contemplated this youngest royal then a sibilant whisper hissed back to say. “This land is mine. You are mine, my lovely little one... and you are the last I want... to kill.”
She stood up, cards dropping around her booted feet. “You were locked in that cage until I let you ou..” she couldn’t finish as her heart-brother stepped up beside her and with his almost insubstantial fingers knocked the mask from her face then caressed her throat. The shadows solidified into a sharp edge and slashed through her skin under her jaw from ear to ear. Bubbling up crimson from the cut blood vessels her voice stopped and she toppled back knocking the table over. Her hot blood stained her chest and the cards on the ground around her. Pink frothy spittle dripped from her lips where her blood filled her throat and she drowned in the rich metallic fluid. Her dark eyes dimmed and the faint movements of her fingers stilled. The words “I am the last... I rule the Shadow lands.” Was the final thing she heard before the last rays of light grayed and she sunk beyond the land of shades.
Now the first stage of life as the youngest of an ambitious family was crushed in the vicious competition for attention and rewards. It was rather cut-throat back then... (Tiny chuckle here)
Throat torn open, drying blood coating the floor and drawing flies this surely was the end... Ahh please you know this can’t be true.. Remember the hackneyed old tales of redemption and saviors. They are false! Fools!!... ah is it fools that save one from madness? Or do they push one deeper into the imbalance of the mind. Did it really matter? The one thing that created our little phoenix of the blood was her...blood. Not the dead blood that was fed on by the vibrant unliving like vampires but it was her own little secret taint that saved our poor little heroine.
The plague that haunted her in life didn’t release its hold in death. The shiny dark pool shimmered around her as moonlight painted it gentle fingers over the shadows and then as if alive it crept over her whole form. The cocoon of crimson darkened and shifted to rusty brown with age. Days... weeks... hours... whatever it was timeless as she was eaten and the plague recreated her in a life-like way for once not killing what it touched as it needed a carrier to survive. Twisting her essence into a pure form, she finally awoke inside the chrysalis as if like a butterfly she emerged, kicking and scratching to break the tough silken casing around her. Changed and now truly a plague carrier.
Her eyes were shadowed with a brilliant black shield within a drawn bruised face that looked at her new world. Her discolored fingers scraping over the marble floor to pull her cross the tiles when she clawed one of the cards to her breast... Ahh so the chance came to be that it was the joker in the deck. A dry harsh laugh escaped her repaired body; the slash by her brother though her throat had reduced her light melodic voice to a raspy thing. She pulled herself up from the floor to sway by the still fallen table. The final memory of her heart brother in his new tainted form was clear in her mind’s eye. “Ahh brother a reckoning will come. Revenge will be mine. The fool who lasts last will be me.”
With out going into those useless details she left her home. The building abandoned where her brother had sunk into a soloment state and his shadows retreating until he regained his strength. With time, she stepped into a new world; her old memories fractured by the return from the reaper’s abode. Outcast as she was, she kept from people and learnt to survive in ways better left to the imagination... to be explained that might happen another time. She brooded on her loss and the hatred ate inside her breast.
Ahh but some many fool creatures blame their actions on insanity. She was in control when she finally emerged from her self imposed isolation with a plan. Her family and homeland was laid waste... Come come now don't you think she deserved a little time off... Needed a little time off to fall into madness... Ahh the delicious taste of the pain she was in drew something to her... Not something most want... Truly the last one who had it was dying to give it up. But that story of her joining with her Ruby is for another time... can’t be a story teller unless you leave the listeners hungering for more.
Chapter 4
~The Book of Jesters, Fools and Harlequins: A Family History
Author unknown and probably dead
Maybe this is a real version but then only a fool... sorry no pun intended ...would believe much that a Harlequin would say... even if it came from the mouth of the one called Mother... or Meme de Circus. Her name literally translates into the Mother of the Circus so quite appropriate nee? She birthed the monstrosities with the help of her parasitic Ruby an obscene union of woman and soul-hungry semi-sentient jewel.
This obscene family, a loose relation of unreal Mother and children, if you can call it that, numbers only 12 plus their little minions and assorted hunters. She is the source, the essence that binds together the wicked family called the Harlequins, a traveling band of psychopaths and jesters with bloody trickery to steal your life or your soul. These wicked jesters of doom spread their little chaos on an equal opportunity basis. Boredom is anathema to them so be warned if you come across a child of Meme or Meme herself. It might be fun. For them and maybe you for a short time.
Meme had another name in the past but then the shattering events of past crashed together, combining to bring about ever such a melodramatic transformation. Her family was scum... really honestly... The vile treatment as the unruly deviant child with her malign affliction was the only thing that saved her from another's plan. She was the youngest of a somewhat ambitious ruling family. She figured her life wouldn’t be worth a lot if the fact of her malady wasn’t kept secret. You see... If she touched you... Well, basically... the chances were that it would kill you.
Normal at birth, her unpleasant ability didn't surface until puberty. Something she received in secret? Possibly, a family member poisoned her but her recovery lead to further complications due to later explained conditions. She had something under her skin besides the bones and muscles that most had. It was something almost alive that wanted to escape, but when it had at times when she wasn’t careful. It broke down the bonds within the body recombining them in freakish and usually lethal ways- Her puppy’s skeleton grew outside its back, the time it had bitten her in play. What happened to her cat- well better left unsaid after it clawed her. Three headed beasts weren’t really that common you know?
She called it the Plague Touch for now, silently in her mind, the purplish yellow marks moved around under her skin anxiously awaiting an opportunity to escape then infect another. Not sure where this had come from but knowing she couldn't tell her family that she was responsible for the deaths of her pets and one of her body servants unless she wanted to be used by one of her family against the others.
The one who would become Meme retreated behind a bizarre costume. Abandoning the scanty court dress popular with her kind, she started wearing a dark velvety full-length body stocking. It clothed her limbs completely blocking casual contact, combined with gloves up to her elbow. The strangest thing to her family was the act of putting on thick layers of make up over her face or her deliberate wearing of a mask. Believing these actions to protect her were signs of madness, her family shut her away in an unused wing of the Family residence.
Now actually, she rather preferred this lonely life. The back stabbing and pettiness of her brothers and sisters were now gone and peace came to her little sanctuary. She rested undisturbed as the plague touch grew in strength and the marks grew darker and moved more frequently. Rarely visited by even servants, she was at peace until the ever so clichéd arrival of her oldest brother’s ambitions. After several years of benign neglect, the day of her death arrived.
It started with a smell and a vague element of chill in the air as if the sun had suddenly been hidden by clouds. With little warning one she considered like - if not better than her real brothers- had done something to ensure his vengeance with cold blooded acts. He chose the shadow world and its inhabitants as his sword for the reaping. With no way to ward against the attack, first a cloud descended over the palace. The lands grew cold and then darkness at noon. An eclipse allowed the calling of shadow creatures a mad slaughter started. Her overbearing Mother was bathing when the water turned crimson; her veins popped open in her wrists.
Then her father was next as he lay in bed with one of his concubines, the shadows of the room swirled over him and his head was sliced clear off so his blood fountained over his woman who like a good mistress followed, her head joining his as it rolled sightless on the floor. The royal children followed along with whoever was nearby, the shadows moving from one to another so that blood flowed over the floors in a thick viscous pool.
Whatever servants could escape the blood bath did until all who was left was the mad child in the abandoned wing. The screams had started hours before but the one who would be Meme was trapped behind locked doors and couldn’t escape. Resting in the small courtyard in the dull light of a gloomy day, she awaited the end. Her body completely clothed and her mask in place. She played a game of cards on a polished table, the deck resting in her gloved hands as a solid shadow crept along the walls and partially solidified into a familiar figure.
“Ahh brother...” she whispered in her light girlish voice. “You couldn’t wait then.” She was unsurprised at the glowing madness in his countenance knowing in a tiny part of her mind that he didn’t recognize her. “You did the forbidden to take my Father’s place” Enola’s shadow form was silent a moment as it contemplated this youngest royal then a sibilant whisper hissed back to say. “This land is mine. You are mine, my lovely little one... and you are the last I want... to kill.”
She stood up, cards dropping around her booted feet. “You were locked in that cage until I let you ou..” she couldn’t finish as her heart-brother stepped up beside her and with his almost insubstantial fingers knocked the mask from her face then caressed her throat. The shadows solidified into a sharp edge and slashed through her skin under her jaw from ear to ear. Bubbling up crimson from the cut blood vessels her voice stopped and she toppled back knocking the table over. Her hot blood stained her chest and the cards on the ground around her. Pink frothy spittle dripped from her lips where her blood filled her throat and she drowned in the rich metallic fluid. Her dark eyes dimmed and the faint movements of her fingers stilled. The words “I am the last... I rule the Shadow lands.” Was the final thing she heard before the last rays of light grayed and she sunk beyond the land of shades.
Now the first stage of life as the youngest of an ambitious family was crushed in the vicious competition for attention and rewards. It was rather cut-throat back then... (Tiny chuckle here)
Throat torn open, drying blood coating the floor and drawing flies this surely was the end... Ahh please you know this can’t be true.. Remember the hackneyed old tales of redemption and saviors. They are false! Fools!!... ah is it fools that save one from madness? Or do they push one deeper into the imbalance of the mind. Did it really matter? The one thing that created our little phoenix of the blood was her...blood. Not the dead blood that was fed on by the vibrant unliving like vampires but it was her own little secret taint that saved our poor little heroine.
The plague that haunted her in life didn’t release its hold in death. The shiny dark pool shimmered around her as moonlight painted it gentle fingers over the shadows and then as if alive it crept over her whole form. The cocoon of crimson darkened and shifted to rusty brown with age. Days... weeks... hours... whatever it was timeless as she was eaten and the plague recreated her in a life-like way for once not killing what it touched as it needed a carrier to survive. Twisting her essence into a pure form, she finally awoke inside the chrysalis as if like a butterfly she emerged, kicking and scratching to break the tough silken casing around her. Changed and now truly a plague carrier.
Her eyes were shadowed with a brilliant black shield within a drawn bruised face that looked at her new world. Her discolored fingers scraping over the marble floor to pull her cross the tiles when she clawed one of the cards to her breast... Ahh so the chance came to be that it was the joker in the deck. A dry harsh laugh escaped her repaired body; the slash by her brother though her throat had reduced her light melodic voice to a raspy thing. She pulled herself up from the floor to sway by the still fallen table. The final memory of her heart brother in his new tainted form was clear in her mind’s eye. “Ahh brother a reckoning will come. Revenge will be mine. The fool who lasts last will be me.”
With out going into those useless details she left her home. The building abandoned where her brother had sunk into a soloment state and his shadows retreating until he regained his strength. With time, she stepped into a new world; her old memories fractured by the return from the reaper’s abode. Outcast as she was, she kept from people and learnt to survive in ways better left to the imagination... to be explained that might happen another time. She brooded on her loss and the hatred ate inside her breast.
Ahh but some many fool creatures blame their actions on insanity. She was in control when she finally emerged from her self imposed isolation with a plan. Her family and homeland was laid waste... Come come now don't you think she deserved a little time off... Needed a little time off to fall into madness... Ahh the delicious taste of the pain she was in drew something to her... Not something most want... Truly the last one who had it was dying to give it up. But that story of her joining with her Ruby is for another time... can’t be a story teller unless you leave the listeners hungering for more.
Chapter 4
~The Book of Jesters, Fools and Harlequins: A Family History
Author unknown and probably dead