Disclaimer: I own nothing! Please don't sue me.
Ok, this is the first thing I have ever written that I deem even remotely publishable. I would love some reviews, but please, do be gentle. I hope to write better things in the future. Enjoy
Little Jester
Juggling: to keep in continuous motion in the air by simultaneously tossing and catching; to hold, catch, carry or balance precariously; to alter or manipulate in order to deceive, as by subterfuge or trickery. Allen Walker was very good at juggling. Then again, so was the 14th, so was Alton Wachtler. But of course, these three people resided within the same body, the same mind even, so it stood to reason that they shared some skill sets.
A deceptively beatific smile crept onto his face as the little jester caught the 14th's persona in one hand while using the other to continue tossing and catching Allen and Alton. He hummed a little tune to himself as he painstakingly applied his make-up. His appearance had altered, out of necessity more than anything, upon his hasty departure from the Order. He went through a near daily routine of dying his shocking white hair to a more natural doe brown; his eyes were now permanently gold, courtesy of his Noah; his complexion was passed off as an unfortunate result of all the make up he wore as a clown.
A disguise over a disguise over a disguise, the 14th thought, giggling into his tune. Even the uneven sound of his laughter failed to disrupt the sheer musical quality of him. After all, he was a juggler; he could hold a tune forever all the while catching, carrying, tossing and replacing melodies in the tremulous balance that was a song.
Finishing his make-up, the final touch of his costume for the day's performance, the 14th glanced up and frowned, though it wasn't visible through the painted on smile. Black coats, white crosses, accompanied by hooded men in beige cloaks; exorcists. They must have been searching for his Innocence.
The little jester tossed the 14th in the air, picking up the rhythm of three again, before catching Alton Wachtler, Allen and the 14th spinning circles in the other hand.
Smiling brightly, like the simpleton he was, Alton grabbed up some balls and began tossing them as he approached the clergymen. There was a woman, which surprised Alton - especially when he noticed her dress, flushing slightly under his make-up – of Asian descent with green-black hair reaching slightly past her shoulders. Beside her was a man, again of Asian descent, with long raven hair tied at his crown. He carried a sword and was scowling. Alton couldn't have that; his clown's soul couldn't bear it.
Never breaking his rhythm, he walked up to the two, grinning like a loon making his painted on smile even more pronounced, Alton began dancing around the pair, catching balls behind his back, changing his pattern, and simply trying to entertain the two. His antics, however, seemed counter productive. The man simply scowled deeper and the girl looked like she might just burst into tears, though she was clearly trying to hide it as she applauded feebly. The man scoffed and took her wrist, leading her away from the confused clown.
The little jester caught the 14th in the same hand as Alton, idly tossing Allen in one hand as he took control.
Allen wasn't worried about being found. They wouldn't recognize him; they never did, after all. This was probably the fifth time exorcists had tracked down his Innocence, but they could never find it since it he knew how to control it. He always ordered any akuma in the area to stay clear of him, so his curse never flared up in front of them. Besides, they thought he had gone to the Earl. Fools. They forgot that he had betrayed the Earl, he would find no welcome among his ranks, just as he no longer found welcome among theirs. It hardly mattered to him, though.
Soon the time would come. The Earl's scenario would reach fruition, and the three days of darkness would be upon them. The exorcists would try to fight, to save this pitiful world, and they would fall. The Earl would shepherd the Noahs, his sacrificial lambs to their slaughter, and it would be his downfall, for then Allen would be able to destroy him, and then he would recreate the world as he saw fit.
The little jester released the balls he held, watching as they all fell to the ground.
So... what did you think?
T.P.S.K.