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The Harlequin

Do you want some... Entertainment?

1.4142135623731 · 614 views · located in Room of Reason

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Nevan

Groups

A faction of vampyric creatures who reign over the Cursed Wood. "Expect from thy blood no more than thy blood expects from thee."
Archaic line of Vampyric blood, named in the language of their favored region, founders of the Vankoryth Detente, and Domain Holders of the Cursed Wood

Description

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A TOAST to the Fools!
Pierrot, Pantaloon,
Harlequin, Clown,
Merry-Andrew, Buffoon--
Touchstone and Triboulet--all of the tribe.--
Dancer and jester and singer and scribe.
We sigh over Yorick--(unfortunate fool,
Ten thousand Hamlets have fumbled his skull!)--
But where is the Hamlet to weep o'er the biers
Of his brothers?
And where is the poet solicits our tears
For the others?
They have passed from the world and left never
a sign,
And few of us now have the courage to sing
That their whimsies made life a more livable
thing--
We, that are left of the line,
Let us drink to the jesters--in gooseberry wine!

Then here's to the Fools!
Flouting the sages
Through history's pages
And driving the dreary old seers into rages--
The humbugging Magis
Who prate that the wages
Of Folly are Death--toast the Fools of all ages!
They have ridden like froth down the whirlpools
of time,
They have jingled their caps in the councils of
state,
They have snared half the wisdom of life in a
rhyme,
And tripped into nothingness grinning at fate--
Ho, brothers mine,
Brim up the glasses with gooseberry wine!

Though the prince with his firman,
The judge in his ermine,
Affirm and determine
Bold words need the whip,
Let them spare us the rod and remit us the
sermon,
For Death has a quip

Of the tomb and the vermin
That will silence at last the most impudent lip!
Is the world but a bubble, a bauble, a joke?
Heigho, Brother Fools, now your bubble is broke,
Do you ask for a tear?--or is it worth while?
Here's a sigh for you, then--but it ends in a smile!
Ho, Brother Death,
We would laugh at you, too--if you spared us the
breath!


The above poem is from "Dreams and Dust" by Don Marquis and is not mine.

So begins...

The Harlequin's Story

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
Testing)

The setting changes from wing-city to The Arena Outskirts

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
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The setting changes from the-arena-outskirts to Wing City

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#, as written by Nevan
It was raining, it was evening, and it was a little known haven for the supernatural called Club Nyt...

The outside was guarded. But not too strongly! Under the heavy, pouring rain, no-one noticed when a bouncer or two met his end with little more than being snatched into shadow with a yelp to show for it.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
The strangely dressed figure was sneaking through the alley towards the back now... His mask hiding his identity and his soft shoes hiding his footsteps. There was a ladder, next, and it led to the roof... So he climbed it, up and up and up, until he could ascend no further.

Below, the vampires and other nasty creatures inside lost themselves in a dark world of music and passion... They didn't notice the shadow of the hunter creeping over the glass window above, open the ventilation shaft, then slide inside and down below...

Now he was in the system; demons beware.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin Character Portrait: Daemala Tauvyr

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Loud music, flashing lights, Club Nyt was tonight just as Daemala had expected. Fully alive, she thought to herself, a smirk pulling at the corners of her blood red lips. In one fluid motion, she swept up the glass that the bartender had just placed in front of her. Red wine, of course.

Raising her wine glass above eye level, she dove into the throng of dancers. Each step was coolly calculated, Dameala bopped with the rhythm, weaving through the crowd. She was spit out from the mass on the other side, near the lounge area, glass raised triumphantly in the air. Not a single drop was sacrificed to the dance floor! Carefully, she took a sip, swishing the liquid around her teeth. Not bad, she thought, as she lowered herself gracefully onto an empty couch. Flourishing, she crossed her legs, throwing her shoulders back. Daemala swept the room with her eyes, but nobody really seemed worth the conversation. I suppose I'll just wait, she sipped her wine again.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
And then... The music stopped.

"Hey, what's happenin' man?!" Asked one of the dancers as he peered up at the DJ booth. Sparks flew from the machine and the DJ himself was nowhere to be found... He had just... Disappeared.

"Why'd the music stop?!" Another cried.

"This place sucks!"

All of a sudden, the uproar started. People were arguing and pushing to members of staff to find out why their fun evening had been ruined, some even left without a fuss.

"Please, please, calm down!" A man said over the speakers from the office above, while those in the VIP section, who had their own music, their own company, even private dancers, merely smiled and grinned at those below through the stainless glass window that overlooked the dance floor.

And then... The light went off inside that section. No sound escaped from it, leaving those below looking up for a good two minutes in wonder before the lights flickered on again.

Blood was everywhere.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin Character Portrait: Daemala Tauvyr

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She didn't have to wait for long. Suddenly, the music stopped, and the harsh screech of loud conversation halting froze time for an instant. Daemala whipped her gaze towards the DJ booth, well this is an odd turn of events. Her smile faltered, and her brow twitched. The dancers were beginning to grow violent with the continued absence of music, people were leaving.

Something doesn't seem right, Daemala placed her glass on the floor and rose fluidly to her feet, smoothing the sides of her black cocktail dress. She ran her ring finger across the collar, which framed her bosom in a heart, and up behind her neck to where the straps tied. While her hands confirmed the perfection of her garment, Daemala's eyes confirmed the perfection of the situation. Why do they still have music? she thought, and took a step towards the DJ Booth.

But..what? The VIP Area had grown dark. What the hell was going on?
Daemala crossed the room at super speed, growing tired of this charade. She was just climbing the small set of stairs up to the DJ booth when the light in the VIP area came back on. The room was covered in blood.

Her expression darkened, and her insides grew hot. She could smell the blood from there, and she fought the urge to fly up there and investigate. No. Instead she used her position up by the DJ to her greatest advantage, surveying the room. It would be best to stay still anyhow, so she didn't get blamed for anything.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
And then, from the VIP room, the body of the DJ smashed the glass and crashed to the ground; blood and gory innards spraying around as though someone was using a hosepipe. Most screamed and ran... But some had a strong stomach, not to mention a 'liking' for the red liquid. So they stuck around... Because it was mighty interesting, wasn't it?

What could make such a heavenly mess of things, and what would he do next? No matter, the police or the guards would be here soon, right?

Wrong. The manager lay dead in his office. The guards were no-where to be found... And what was that? The front door suddenly shut and locked behind them!

Well, wasn't this interesting? They now appeared to be trapped in.

Then, without so much as a warning, one of the vampires in the centre of the room screamed as blood sprayed from his body and he fell to the floor; twitching and unable to move.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin Character Portrait: Daemala Tauvyr

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She locked her eyed on the spurting corpse, and couldn't help but run her tongue over her upper lip as the pool of blood surrounding the obviously deceased DJ grew larger. It really was a beautiful sight, from up here, practically a birds eye view of the dancefloor. She was obscured by the shadow of the VIP box on the wall, her position sniper worthy. Not to mention that nobody would notice she was there anyway, unless they were remarkably gifted. Daemala was a vampire, and blended in with the shadows, using them as cover.

She finally had decided that it would be the right time to go back down the stairs, now that all the attention was directed towards the dance floor. Just as Daemala was about to descend, a bloodcurdling scream erupted from the center of the room. Blood sprayed everywhere as someone, a vampire, fell twitching to the floor. She plastered herself into the wall, her inner vampire instincts kicking in, blending in completely with the shadows.

Her immortal life was in danger! She felt her fangs slip down, poking at her lip. She scanned the room, looking for the threat.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
And then the the being decided to strike. He jumped down from the metal rafters high above the dance floor, using all manner of acrobatic moves and knives to slice and dice his way through the remaining population, until none were left alive except for the hidden Daemala at the back of the room...

He sighed... It was finished for now. He let his shoulders and arms fall and relax as he stood in the room, his feet plodding in the pools and blood and now stained a sickly crimson. Not long after, he began to string the bodies up using the rafters above; letting them hang and the blood rain upon him.

He raised his arms; stretched them out... Stared up towards the ceiling as his prey bled on him. He seemed to love it.

But he wasn't content with merely letting the bodily fluid hit his mask, so he took the edge of the harlequin crown with his right hand and, with a little effort, tore it from his head... Revealing a mess of dark hair that hid his face below.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin Character Portrait: Daemala Tauvyr

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A flash of blades cut through the crowd, killing everyone on the dance floor. Daemala's black eyes widened, as she lowered herself to a crouch. There it was. The killer.

She prepared herself for action, for soon everyone down there would be dead and he would surely seek out the next victim. Which could be her.
But...what was this? The person continued to string up the bloodied corpses, and hang them like a giant, dripping, flesh pinata in the middle of the room. Daemala oogled at it, feeling the pull of the blood, but being slightly sickened by the pulp of meat, and all the while admiring this guy's style.

The person tore the mask from his head, and, revealed himself to be male. Male, and in need of a haircut! Daemala remained frozen, unsure of what exactly to do in a situation like this.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
The man, he went down to his knees, then lay backwards... Sprawled out on the floor, facing up at the ceiling. Blood dripped on him, but he didn't mind. He merely closed his eyes, enjoying the smell and the taste and the touch...
He was clearly strange of the mind and most definitely not human. But, his sense of smell didn't seem that acute... For he still hadn't noticed Daemala.

The sounds of sirens could be heard in the distance of the city, but the man didn't mind.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin Character Portrait: Daemala Tauvyr

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The guy situated himself on the floor, practically bathing in the blood. He appeared to be...relaxing? Daemala slowly crept down the stairs, staying hidden in the shadows. The scent of freshly slaughtered specimens sat thick in her nostrils, and her thirst grew stronger.

Sirens in the distance, crap! Daemala jumped the last six stairs at inhuman speed, landing on her feet and hand. She whipped her head to glower point blank at the murderer, curling her lip to show her fangs.

"Enjoy it while you still can," She hissed warning at him, cocking her head sideways. Soon, this place would be a lock down crime scene, and she wanted no part of it. She lunged around a corner, disappearing from the madman's view. If he was even looking at her. She wasn't paying much attention, Daemala was focused on escape. Plastered against the wall, she listened. Sounded to be almost 5 blocks from here, those sirens. Best find a way out the back!

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
"You're going to me the only survivor, think yourself lucky," he suggested out loud as the vampiress rushed around trying to escape. "Or... Will they merely think you killed them, instead?"

His voice carried the full length of the building, so she was bound to hear. "I can help you escape and I can keep the heat off your back... The question is, what are you going to pay me for it?"

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
The man pulled back on his mask, letting out a mad, crazy guffaw while he rolled around in the puddles and lake forming on the dancefloor. Not until he was soaked and dripping in red did he stand up; a yawn escaping from him and his bones cracking as he stretched.

It was time for him to leave... He could hear vans and cars pulling up outside, yelling and footsteps... Oh yes, it was definitely time for him to leave.

He jumped, gripped and began to climb, using anything he could get a hold of, including the strung up bodies, to get himself as high from the floor as possible... As the armed police officers and detectives burst in through the front door with weapons ready to fire, the mass murderer slipped out to the roof through the same vent he had used to enter...

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
(ignore this; just so I can get a quick link to the profile)

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
"Look at them all," the filtered voice whispered as the masked murderer approached the edge of the building and looked down stealthily at the ant-like police officers swarming the streets below...

"They think they can actually do something... As though every step they take isn't completely wasted and not merely prolonging their eventual, gory death..."

The figure rolled over onto his back; leg hanging off the edge as he stared up into the night sky. "Half of the fun is figuring out how to escape..."

The setting changes from wing-city to Main Street 1

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#, as written by Nevan
(test)

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#, as written by Nevan
"Goodbye!"

And then, he slid from the edge and fell down below. He didn't hit the ground, but at the same time, nor did he fly away, or float, or swing in back through one of the upper storey windows. Instead he seemed to have just, disappeared.

That is, until he waved to the vampiress from the roof at the other end of the street, where one leg was dangling down and the other was propped up so he could rest his chin on the knee.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
The man watched with only vague interest as the vampiress began to hop towards him, one building at a time.
When she had gotten close enough, the masked figure hopped up to his feet; stretching and yawning in a pirouette as he span to face away and begin running. He wondered if she could keep up with him.
Over the roof he went, jumping from one building to the next, then climbing and flipping with parkour-proficiency up a fire exit stairwell and onto an even higher roof.

He had apparently found a stalker, but that didn't bother him... Indeed, it would be fun to have someone chasing him constantly. She knew part of his secret, more than anyone else... To him, she was the most dangerous thing alive.

And he loved it.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
"Flying is so gracious, so... Noble and so... Boring," he said as he let off a sigh towards Daemala while he stood and stared at her.
"Anyway, let's get down to business. Why are you following me?" He asked as he tilted his head; the protrusions from the top of his hat(thing) dangling to one side and one of the black voids that made up his eyes came to life...

It was purple.

"Not to be rude, but I would much rather you scoot along and tell the police all about me," he said, as he wafted a hand down as though trying to get rid of her foul stench.

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
"It's none of your business," was all he said to answer as he turned and began to stretch. Now all he wanted was to get away, to go about his own business without this woman stalking him.

"I'm going to leave now," he revealed as he made his way over to the edge of the building. "I'm sure we'll see you again, but not tonight. You will just have to hope you get lucky and stumble upon my scene of crime before the crime is committed."

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

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#, as written by Nevan
"What type of fun?" He asked as he suddenly stopped and turned around to face the woman.

Cards, perhaps? He loved cards. Perhaps even a slight dabble into the dolls of voodoo? He'd always wanted to try and slowly torture someone to death with their own avatar and a sewing needle. The man shook his head from side to side, then began to make his way towards her.

"Tell me more. I'm intrigued about this suggestion of 'fun'."

The setting changes from main-street-1 to Wing City

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nevan
It was time to strike again...

They didn't know it, of course. As they chattered and filmed outside the hotel, that still bore the virgin red ribbon which was yet to be cut by the hands of the Mayor. Oh... This would make him infamous. Every single person would die and he would be free...
For this was also a personal mission; not just the sadistic attempts at bringing 'pleasure' to his life like the massacres before had been... No. Every monster needed his cave, and his was inside... The attic, to be clear. He had done nothing as they reshaped and furnished all the other rooms, he just stalked and watch from the dark, dusty room decorated with 50s broken TV sets and a single, dirty, double mattress in the centre of the room.

But now, tonight, finally, he could get his house back. He had waited to cause the maximum amount of embarrassment and attention, which got closer with every passing second as The Harlequin moved into position within the crowd... Invisible, but deadly.

Setting

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Character Portrait: The Harlequin

0.00 INK

#, as written by Nevan
And then, he stepped in front of Daemala. The last time they had met, most of his face had been obscured in shadow and blood... But his hair and possible the edge of his face would be recognizable.
He smiled sweetly into the crowd, as he peered up at the Mayor who held the scissors triumphantly..
Then he cast all notions of 'doubt' into the ocean to drown, for the man raised The Harlequin's mask and slid it over his head...

No-one recognized him for who he was, of course... But as he peered down to the feet of those in front and shivered; savouring the moment that was coming... He knew they soon would.