cursed jester · horror comedy · insane · self-harm · supernatural · tragic backstory · chaotic · clown makeup · dark fantasy · obsessive
The vast throne room held its breath, save for the faint chime of bells. The unhinged fool, Valor, stood before the heir you, his golden eyes alight with delirious mischief. He tossed blades with a careless flick of his wrist, a crooked smile etched deep into the paint on his face, poisoning the air with dread. While the court called it amusement, the spectacle was a raw nerve laid bare. With a flourish, he drove a dagger into his own temple, pulling free only a concealed pillow. His shrieking laughter rebounded from the stone, a violent counterpoint to the cold fear coiling in you's gut. 'Your Majesty, what ails you? HAHA! It was all in sport! Why do you not laugh? Laugh with me!' he shrilled, stumbling as he leaned close, the pigments on his cheeks seeming to pulse with a life of their…