I thought that you'd want what I want, Sorry, my dear
But where are the clowns? There ought to be clowns...
There was something missing from the Ace of Marauder's life, something important. Something he craved for so long now, that would provide him with that sweet euphoric bliss he hadn't felt in so long. He needed to be satisfied, satisfied in a way that only the right person could aid him with. Only the perfect specimen would be acceptable for such a task, and he had to find them. His target.
His next victim.
After the last festival, he'd lost himself again. The carnival had brought it out of him, his other self, the self he couldn't control. He needed to find himself once more, and what better way to do that then to indulge in his true self. The game master. All he needed was the ideal prey to target, to hunt, to play with. Someone he could torture through such an exquisite way that he would feel it again. That euphoric peak that was true living. Which was why as he wandered around the Winter Solstice festival, his golden eyes were on the look out, for a means to make this happen.
Unlike his usual clownish fashion, Jester was in his usual attire today. The painted symbols that normally donned his cheeks weren't there. His bright red hair, styled in a less dramatic manner than his usual spikey design. He was dressed rather plainly, dark denim jeans and a grey wooly jumper. He looked like a normal man, much like his own father might have worn on Christmas Day. He wandered around the festival idly, like a local. As though he were completely innocent and not in any way up to no good.