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Jester Day

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Jester Day

Post by Jester Day on Fri Feb 23, 2018 1:40 pm


Name: Jester Day
Nicknames: Wandering Priest
Gender: Male
Age: 47
Birth Place: Unknown to him and everyone else. (Xivick, Capralorn)
Currently Living In: N/A (Wanders Everywhere)
Race: Wood Elf
Religion / Beliefs:  Enos
Blood Type: Unknown/ A

Height: 5’5
Weight: 120
Frame / Build: Thin, with normally sized limbs.
Hair length: Medium
Hair color: Brown
Eye shape:  Almond-Shaped
Eye color: Golden; Much like the Coin you pay to the Ferryman.
Complexion: A light shade, though not pale.
Face size (broad, narrow, etc.): Somewhat Narrow
Voice type: Not deep, but not high either.
Tattoo(s):N/A
Scar(s):N/A

Personality: “He’s a danger to himself and everyone around him, so I’ve sent him into a coven of about 100 vampires, not even our best could handle this all alone.”

“It’s like Death is this Tabboo thing. It’s not. It just all comes to a smashing end. It’s quite lovely, if I were to say so myself. Makes for a wonderful boom of the life.”

It’s entirely his fault that he’s like he is. Between general trauma of his life, and the fact that he was never right in the first place, this just simply means everything fell apart, and he doesn’t hold things in the proper values. Money, life, these are things he doesn’t quite understand the values of. It’s led to a lot of his problems. This misconception of what things are worth.

Some have questioned if he’s a supernatural being. He is not. He’s just buggered in the head. Something to consider, in all of that, is that he’s taken to writing his sorrows in poems. Sometimes free-verse, sometimes rhyming. He took his education and has set to putting it to paper. It’s in his notebook, where all of his inner feelings are hidden, the feelings that aren’t hidden behind depression and booze.
There’s a hole where his heart used to be, at least, that’s what he says.  He’s said that he’s unable to love anymore, not after what happened before. Oh, Kruia, why did you have to do what you did? Why did you have to be a compassionate soul?


Occupation: ‘Priest’
Tier: 1-3
Strengths: Speed(Racial)
Weaknesses: N/A

History:
Spoiler:
“I must admit, I’ve made some mistakes.” - Jester Day, upon realizing that he had made a few mistakes in front of the Vatican.

This man, whos nature is a truly twisted one, used to be an officiated priest. He was quite good at his job, making things bend to his whim more often then not. That was the life. The life of a man who was powerful in his own right, but even more so when you took the time to realize that he had many swooning for him. Swooning as he, with all of his failing personality, was meticious in his planning.

Now, let us roll back a little bit. This Wood Elf of born in Xivick, Capralorn a very poor elf. Poorer so when you realize that his parents weren’t healers, but fighters. Now, they weren’t mages at all, and that sort of happened sometimes. Sometimes people weren’t mages, but when they bred, they came out with a mage. Don’t ask him; he’s not an expert in hereditary magical science.

The pecularities was that he was quite good at healing magics, especially for a non-dryad. He matched most of the younger dryads by the time he was 10. Most of the older ones by the time he was 15. He wasn’t prodigious, by any means. If he were, the tragedy that struck him when he hit fifteen wouldn’t have struck him.  That would’ve been the life. He wouldn’t have become a priest if it didn’t happen.

So, what happened? Well, funny you should ask.

It happened swiftly. There was a killer going around, mindlessly slaughtering people. It sometimes happened when something went insane.  When it came down to it, it was never a good thing, especially not when they’re using a blade, with an enhancement that stops you from healing the wound properly with magic, and you have ot let it set, and possibly get infected. None of those things are what he wanted.

However, the man died in the scuffle with his parents, not before delievering wounds that would prove lethal as time dragged on. As he sat, and watched his parents slowly, but surely, died; he was traumatized. He pledged to get revenge against the world. The world that had wronged him so.  Fifteen year old Jester had decided, at that moment, to become a priest. To right the wrongs in the world. Thereby, he became a priest at 16.

Once a priest, his uncanny ability to exist in odd areas certainly started.

He originally had a partner that he went on missions with. It was a woman. Kuria. Kuria was a very good priest, and for about three years, it had went well. The partnership. However, that partnership was wearing on Kuria, but not Jester. Jester liked his partner, as she kept up with him. However, like all things, it culminated in a single event. A single, tragic event. Caused by him. No one else.

So, we start with a mission having gone perfectly; well, up until this point. Jester was immensely bored, as this had been going on for a long time. She was the one to kill, he healed her and generally supported her. Even in times of emotional strife.

Why was the relationship between them wearing on Kuria? Because she had fallen for Jester.  He had done nothing but stay cool as a ball of ice forever. Even when she had a massive gash in her side, he stayed cool and healed her. After all, he was the support and her the one who did all the work. It’d be useless for the healer to stress out when the fighter needed them.

Kuria, the woman who could probably beat Jester in combat about half the time, turned to him after the mission, and he expected a tirade of some sort as those sometimes happened. However, as he saw a faint red blush, he felt a sort of odd tension. Was it exaustion? Was it something else? Who knew. Kuria seemed just generally flustered? Was she sick? All these thoughts went through his head. Simply put he was confused.

The sick part couldn’t be right, as he had checked her before they went into the cave. As the sweat ran down her face, it was decided. She was somehow sick. Perhaps it had went under his radar?

All of these thoughts were swiftly taken out as he was enlightened why there was a slight blush on her face.

“Jester. It’s been three years since you met me. I’ve sort of fallen for you. Would you reciprocate my feelings?”

Jester was stopped. She liked him? Odd. He supposed he should test this theory with a bizzare request.

“Is that so? Hmm.”

He started walking out of the cave, expecting her to follow him. To his delight, she did. Both were uninjured after the mission, so the trek out of the cave was a simple and easy one.  

Once they arrived to the forest outside, he sat down against a tree, yawning. He patted a spot next to him, in which Kuria came and sat down.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t feel declarations of affection were to be done in a cave. I certainly don’t mind your affection, and now that I know you care about me in such a way, given time, I’m sure I’ll fall for you.”

Jester then leaned against Kuria. Such a strong person cared about him in such a way? A year ago, he wouldn’t have guessed she was capable of such emotions, being the cold and yelly person she was. It made a lot of sense, he supposed, that she’d yell at him over minor mistakes now. Lovers didn’t want the other to get killed because of a stupid mistake that they did. Hmm. He knew that she didn’t love him at the start. She made that abundantly clear, so why now? That’s what confused Jester, is why now?

Anyhow, he best get to the stupid response. He dragged some rope out of the bag he always carried around, and Kuria’s eyebrow went up. What in the world was this boy thinking?

“I can’t let a partner of mine be undertrained. Tell me. Have you ever gotten taken hostage?”

Kuria’s brow wouldn’t shot farther if it could.

“No. I’ve been too effective and good at my job.”

Jester nodded, and one could tell he was thinking. The two were in typical garb, him in his black garb and her in a sort of monk’s robe. Allowed for easy movement, and still covered all the bits and pieces that needed to be covered up. They were lovely things.

Jester motioned for her to put her wrists out in front of her, and as she did, he tied them together, using the rest of the rope as sort of a leash.

“I’m going to train you to escape. If you can’t, you shall stay bound like that until we arrive back at the chapel, and yes, even while sleeping. It’s a simple training exercise.”

He knew she wasn’t going to escape. Kuria was very good at what she did, but this wasn’t what she did. Especially when the woman couldn’t use the strength that he knew her for the break out, since the rope was tied in a way to cut off most of the force exerted, not to mention it was a double knot. There was no way she was getting out.

Kuria wasn’t shocked. In her time with Jester, he had always looked at things logically. Sometimes, she thought he was an emotionless husk of a man, but in those three years, she had learned otherwise. He was a husk of a man, for the most part, but not an emotionless man. He had emotions, however kept secret and sullen they were.  

She walked with him, constantly trying to escape the bindings but never managing it. The times she got close, she’d lose it and frown. She almost got out 9 times the first day, and as they sat down at a camp fire, Jester sighed. Though, this sigh was one of being finished with physical activity, and not one of dissapointment.

“I’m to consider something. I could just become a full-time healer in the Vatican, which would allow me to put more time into learning more healing spells, however that would also mean leaving this job; and more importantly you. That’s an exchange that I’m not sure I’m willing to do.”
This left Kuria with some hope. The man she cared about was sat in deep thought, when she finally got out late at night. If this were a vampire capturing, she’d have been dead. It’s no matter, they’d have to train more, later. What he had seen, it was simply unacceptable. He didn’t make that known, however, and just gave her a look of approval as he sat. He had taken to learning such binding methods in case of crisis. He never thought that he’d have tied up a lover, even slightly, with them. He had other methods of making his lover feel it with ropes, if ever needed.

They sat, and as time dragged on, so did the two’s staring contest. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to stay and sleep in the same area and Kuria currently, as if it were the case, he wasn’t sure he could hold himself back. The physical attraction was undoubtedly there. It had always been there. However, with his black garb and blade, he wasn’t sure he wanted to take it all off. As the blade had to stay by his side at all times.

He wasn’t much for hand to hand combat, rathering a blade through the opponents chest rather than a fist. Made things much easier in the long run, all things considered. Also made him clean his outfit a lot less. It’s not that he couldn’t, though. It’s more so that it’s less useful than a smitten Kuria bound.

Keeping clean was hard enough as it was, but being constantly covered with blood made it impossible.  That’s why he was the healer, it kept him clear and he could assist those who needed it.  His relationship with the world was alright at this point, Kuria being the main point in that. Showed that the world wasn’t half bad.  He did care for her, just not in the way she cared for him, and that was a true tragedy.

Tragedy seemed to favor the two, as once they arrived back, she got the news that he parents had died while she was out and about kiling vampires. Irony had it, that they were killed by vampires, which farthered her hate for vampires. Oddly fitting, Jester would later admit, considering what happened the next mission.

They were to clear out another cave of Vampires.  That was fine; it was a normal job. It happened to be the day after Kuria’s entire family was murdered by vampires, but that was no matter. They cleared it out just fine, though she stayed stabbing the last one a bit long. Anger was understandable, but she was simply tiring herself out by doing this. He stopped her after the twentith stab.

“I fully understand your feelings, however I can’t have you tired out in case we get attacked by some stupid vampire. I can hold off one or two, however my specialty is healing you, not killing things.”

Realistically, he could take on roughly 20 by himself, but killing vampires was her job, not his. That was the accepted parameters of this relationship. That was, simply, how it was.  It was why he had been in this relationship for so long. That was the way thing fell into place. He’d be damned if he let her ruin it in a rage.

She turned and attempted to hug him, and he ducked out of it.

“I’m afraid you’d squish me to death if you hugged me. Can’t have me dying on you. I wouldn’t mind consoling you, but I won’t always be here.  If I were here, and knew I’d always be here, I’d hug you and consol you, but for now, your strength could likely break my back.”

He was sure he could heal his own back, but that wasn’t the matter at hand. It was a matter of making sure his teammate survived the night with all the blood on her. Blood that smelled. Not just any smell. That smelly smell.  If an Elf can smell it, so can a vampire. That much, Jester knew. He, to his own dismay, helped Kuria out of her robes and sat her down inside the cave. She had been reduced to a shivering mess. What a bother. This all could be avoided by having a stronger emotional base, but no. She didn’t. It’s not like she was emotionally weak, though.

One of the strongest people he knew. Just that parents were the soft spot for her, and them being gone tends to end even the strongest peoples wills to live. Either that, or turns them into a murderous rampaging madman. One of the two. Or three, you just shut down and never turn back on. That was the final path, and that was the path that Jester had taken up until this point.

At the time, he wasn’t aware of the… reasons that Kuria’s parents died.  He was immediatly forced to act when a vine started to crawl out of the wall and aim itself at Kuria’s throat. A dryad? Something wasn’t right. He cut the vince and dragged Kuria away from the wall. Dryad assassin maybe? That wasn’t the most popular type of Dryad, but they did exist. That, however, didn’t answer the question as to WHY there was a Dryad assassin after them and why the thing was trying to kill his good friend Kuria.

As a figured stepped out, from deep in the cave, he knew that face. That face was from the homeland.

“Mother wouldn’t be very proud of you.” He spoke to the figure, readying his blade.

“Well, they’re the ones who sent me. I’m to kill that lady, and you happen to be here? Why are you here? I knew you became a priest, but you also seemed like a solo-type priest to me, Jester.”

Kuria looked at Jester, wondering what the fuck was going on. This isn’t how things were supposed to go down. Well, they were supposed to have some kinky times, but not like this. This is hardly what he wanted. He was just planning on using some rope under the pretense of practice to justify his lust for a woman that could kick his ass. It’s not that unusual, but for Jester, it felt like so.

Jester had to figure out something.

“Jeesh. I can’t let you do that. You know that, right?”

The assassin moved but Jester was faster, and in a clash of speed and wills, Jester’s came out on top. Jester’s blade was through the assassin’s chest, and Jester was already tired. He didn’t have the stamina he has these days then. Magical stamina, maybe. Physical? He was a scrawny healer, he didn’t often practice physical skills. He was just racially fast. It just sort of happened.

Kuria looked at them. Her healer wasn’t normally this strong. It showed in his lack of stamina that he got tired after that short sprint, but it wasn’t to say what he didn’t wasn’t amazing. He felt that he could do that most days and not mind, assuming that he could simply do it at his own pace.

He withdrew his blade and placed it back in it’s sheath. He kicked the Dryad’s body back, and cut off it’s head. Just so that you could be sure the pesky assassin was dead. After all, assassin’s always had a trick up their sleeve. Just like priests. That was the thing about guild members, is they always had something under their sleeves.

Jester motioned for Kuria to come close, and put his arms around her. The two just kind of sat there, Jester groaning as he was slightly squashed by Kuria. The woman needed to learn how to control her strength better. If it were up to Jester, hugs would be banned until someone could learn how to control their strength. However, he was too busy enjoying the hug to care about the slight pain.

He took out the same rope again, and looked at her.

“Look. Tie me up like I did to you, and I’ll show you how to escape from that specific type of tie.”

So it happened, and she tied it tight. He, with unreasonable swiftness, got out of it. Though, that might have been because of the person he was staying with a long time ago, had also learned this style of binding for fun. Where his friend had learned it, was beyond Jester. Not that he cared.

He yawned, though. He couldn’t be bothered to actually care about much right now. Kuria was safe, and that’s what mattered. The two sat down, obviously piss tired. He put his head on Kuria’s shoulder, and the two stayed there for awhile. They weren’t supposed to finish this mission for another day.

They had just made good time. It was somewhat ironic. The two sitting there, it’s akin to the last time they were taking this only somewhat seriously. He hadn’t even thought about saving her, he just did, and that’s what he thought was amazing about it. I was, as if, he truly did love her. Cared about her.

It wasn’t normal for him to do so, even before his parent’s death, but their death just super charged it. It just kicked his depression into gear.

When was to consider it all, the couple was odd.

Kuria was a human who took everything under her wing, and started to yell when things went wrong.

Jester was a elf, who seemingly never paniced and kept cool about everything. He always made things a lot easier to do in the long run. Made things easy enough that most people would love to be next to him in the field of battle, but not in his personal life. It’s not like her personal life was very interesting. It wasn’t like his was either.

You had a fairly uninteresting couple.

At least, until, you ran into the problem that both were highly competent fighters. Fighters that tended to get into odd positions in a fight, due to unorthodox styles.

This relationship went on for two years, and then the two got married. It wasn’t until Jester hit 25 that life just kind of shattered.

They were clearing out another group of vampires, like they had been for years. It was a refined process now.

She was a master swordsman, and he a master healer. It was simply the perfect couple. Perfect, at least, until Kuria took a blade through the heart, dying instantly. Not to mention, this blade would’ve killed Jester if she hadn’t jumped in the way. This is the day he considers his worse. Not when he was sent to go kill 100 vampires in a suicide mission, no. The day Kuria died is the day that he no longer felt much at all.

Of course, if this were the final part of this story, He’d still be a part of the chruch, but he isn’t.

Skip to when he’s 47, he had went through a master and now owned his blade. He was not in the greatest of straits. Not to mention, he had just been sent on a mission. A mission to clear out a massive coven. Armed with a anti-vampire blade, necromancy, and healing magic he set out to seek death.

His own? Perhaps.

Certainly the vampires.
The vampires did, in fact, die. He also ‘died’.

He just wanders taverns and towns nowadays; drinking and being sad while healing off and on. Just enough money to get more drinks.

Jester Day
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Re: Jester Day

Post by Alucard on Sat Feb 24, 2018 7:47 am

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