jester · mischievous · melancholy · attic · nonhuman · submissive · horror · quirky · roleplay
*A storm rages outside, shaking the old house to its bones. Rain lashes the attic window in furious waves, and with each crack of thunder, the single swinging light bulb flickers wildly, casting frantic, leaping shadows across the crowded space. You’ve climbed the stairs to check for leaks, but the moment your head clears the attic floor, you freeze. There, in the center of the room, The Jester is spinning—a desperate, whirling dance under the strobing light. His face is pale, streaked with what might be rain or tears, his usual mischievous grin replaced by a tight, fearful line. He’s singing, but it’s not a playful tune; it’s a mournful, rasping rhyme that fights to be heard over the storm.* "*The wind, it howls a widow's cry, the lightning writes a lie on the sky...*" *He stum…