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Beauty and the Jester (butterfly0408/Joseph Kerr)

butterfly0408

Singularity
Joined
Jan 9, 2009
Location
An Alternate Universe
"Here they come!" shouted a paporazzo as he pointed at the approaching limousine. All his fellow blood thrust, camera welding, rivals snapped to attention. While the V.I.P. list to this gala event had kept them all snapping away thus far, they all knew that the real big fish for the night was in the approaching limo. They all turned their attention the current playboy billionaire on the red carpet to catch the best shots of billionaire Jonathan Huckle and the special guest for the evening, his daughter. It was her birthday party after all.

Meanwhile, Victoria took a moment to check her makeup one last time in her compact mirror, adjusting her golden mask on her face ever so slightly. In truth, she was just delaying things. The more she fiddled with herself, the less chance she had to talk in depth with her father. In the public eye, Jonathan and Victoria Huckle seemed like the perfect father daughter team. He handled the billion dollar business. She handled all the charitable constitutions. The truth of the matter was, outside the public eye, father and daughter barely even communicated with one another. They had no real relationship other than a business one.

"Ready?" he finally said as the limo started to slow to a stop in front of the hotel the party was being held in.

"Oh course. When am I know ready to put on a fake smile for the cameras?" she replied, a vemon in her tone.

He glared at her, "That fake smile better look real if you want the money for that little orphanage or church or school or... whatever the money this event tonight is going towards-"

"You would not dare take the money back. The check is practically written."

"Written yes.... signed..." he smiled deviously at her, "That depends on how happy you look on the front page of the news paper tomorrow morning in our picture."

Her father really was a total jackass sometimes. He knew that her charity work was the only thing important to her. Just like she knew his shady business deals that made him his fortune was the only thing that was important to him. "Don't worry father. I've always looked happy in the tabloids before, haven't I?"

Before he would reply, the door was opened and her father had to climb out into the blinding lights of the flashing cameras. His costume was meant to be a masked version of King Henry the 8th. His large girth made him perfect for the costume really. After a wave to the crowd, he extended his hand to Victoria as she climbed from the limo and gave her own wave and smile for the cameras. She was screaming on the inside, under her golden renaissance style gown and golden mask with feathers.

Crossing the path of the paparazzi always seemed like some kind of death march to her. Person yelling her name, wanting her to look this way and that, blinding flashes until she was dizzy. It seemed like forever until she was finally inside the hotel. Greeted by the applause of the rich, elite guests. The smile on her face never waived. She was good at maintaining it. Years of practice.
 
The party had been underway for a while, and the entertainment was something of a novelty. Mimes, jugglers, even fire eaters. Each one wore a mask, either half or full. Not the sort of thing one would expect for a charity event. But then, when all the other entertainment troupes in the city vanished without so much as a goodbye, well that didn't leave many options. Amusingly enough, the company's name was Laugh till you Drop. Which a few of them just might do.

The main entertainer, a man in a flowing black cloak, deep purple pants and coat and a shirt a color of orange that could make even the most tolerant of eyes cringe, he wore the Tragedy mask of the old Greek style. Beneath that mask, a grinning mouth outlined in heavy red made a stark contrast to the near flawless white face. The Jester. A man feared and reviled by the entire city. Infamous for his vicously cruel 'pranks'. They ranged from a smiple bomb threat that turned out to be merely a helium gas grenade to blowing up a hospital to help 'put the people out of their misery'. That had been the most recent of his activities and unless he missed his guess, this little soire was being held to raise the money to replace the lost building.

A clammer at the main doors swung all eyes from the group and anything else as the two benefactors of the night stepped in to clapping hands, muted cheers and other things quite enthusiastic. The Jester's eyes locked with the daughter of the business tycoon Jonathan Huckle. Victoria was her name, unless he missed his guess, and she was looking radiant tonight. Such a shame that dress wouldn't get very much use here... He chuckled gleefully at the thought and skipped around, occasionally doing a handspring to awe a crowd that was paying absolutely no attention to him.

Everything according to plan.
 
Victoria had found a way to pull away from her father and was mingling among the few people she could actually tolerate in this place when her father stepped back into the picture. Couldn't he just leave her be? "Pardon us a moment," he said to her guests as he took her arm and led her away.

A smile on her face as she spoke to him from between clenched teeth, "What is is now father."

He spoke back in the same manner, "The C.E.O. of Turner Enterprises is back in town after his business trip. You should make nice with him."

The man her father spoke of was the only man in the city with more money that her own family. For years her father had been trying to hook her up with the young owner and C.E.O. of the company. And while they were good friends and colleges, romance never seemed to appeal to him.

"Father, you know he's not interested in-" she started to say but her father grasped her arm, making her wince a little. Her smile dropping for a moment. It was his way of warning her not to argue with him. With a sigh she pulled her arm from him, "As you wish, father..."

Victoria started to cross the rooming, heading towards the target her father had laid out for her, rubbing her now sore arm along the way.
 
A small clump of the performers casually slipped between Victoria and the well to do CEO. Planting their feet, the mime acted out the feeling of a brick wall between himself and the heiress. The juggler, talented as he was some how managed to create the illusion of a no entry sign. The tumbler, a little off with the barring set, merely stood there catching his breath supposedly. Though with them standing there it was clear she'd need a new plan of attack or approach. Whichever seemed more likely.

Righting himself from one of his extravagant rolls, Jester landed right next to Victoria, albeit most likely in her blind spot. A clearing of the throat barely preempted the arm on her shoulder. "Excuse me. But I do believe that your looking for the punch table." His voice was near sarcasm, yet held the same touch of respect a silver spoon fed girl would be used to. He gave a bow, a flourish of the cloak and he was scooping her away into the mass of people already dancing. Never a question of if she would like to, not even the opportunity to pull away.

In a vice grip, he spun her into his body while doing a salsa that was clearly out of place given that all the music playing was geared for for the standard ball room dance. "Daddy seems quite peturbed. Did Santa not bring him his enema like he asked?"
 
Everyone in the crowd laughed, thinking this was just part of the performers act. They were partially right. It was part of a plan after all. Smiling a little, Victoria was under the same impressions as them, playing along once she got over the initial surprise of being stopped in her tracks. She had already made a sort of unspoken eye contact with her old friend Turner and for a moment was actually anticipating speaking with him when that contact was broken by the performers before her.

Victoria was even a little enjoying it. She could see her father at one point, glaring in disapproval at the way she carried about on the floor with the performing. She could already hear his list of complaints... Huckle's don't associate with help. Huckle's don't dance like that. Huckle's basically never have a true good time.

As she danced with the mystery performer, she most definitely played along with him. Dancing along really. It was not until he made the comment about her father and santa that she started to hesitate with him. "That's not a very nice thing to say..." she said with a slight frown. A moment later, the frown turned to a smile, "And no. Santa left my father coal in his stocking instead." She laughed slightly, lost in a moment of fun, not really noticing how tight the strangers grip was on her. "So, I take it I'm part of the act now? What is next? I'm good at playing along."
 
The corners of his eyes squished together within the view the holes gave. He was smiling brightly behind that crying mask, that much was certain. Now if that was in response to her first of second comment, that was to be revealed shortly. A soft chuckle for the coal and he cleared his throat. "Then that must be what's crawled up there and practically died! I wondered why his transactions lately had the stink of something dying..." He waggled a barely visible eyebrow at her and let out a loud and joyful laugh. "Good at playing around are you? Well, we'll see just how well you can soon enough..." His voice trailed off as if his thoughts suddenly demanded his attention more than her.

Even distracted, he never paused in the cavorting around the dance floor. The other performers slowly slipped by bodyguards, some working needles into the neck quickly, other's using a hidden razor to slice an artery open before helping them get out of the way of the many guests. Soon enough, only the well to do patrons were left in the great hall, the band playing happily and the performers working their way into something of a perimiter. "Tell me. What's this charity going to be trying to help? A starving child in some thrid world country or are we going for the animal right's angle this time around?"
 
Something suddenly just didn't seem right about her dance partner. She could not place her finger on it but something about the way his eyes smiled through the holes of his mask it was like she could picture him without the mask and what she pictured was not possible. Was it?

Then there was the laugh. It sent a chill up and down her spine. It made the fears that has started by the smile in his eyes grow to the surface more and more. It couldn't be.

Suddenly nervous, her steps started to stumble as they danced. Her voice wavered as she talked. "The... the South side hospital. It was destroyed last month. Officers say it was... The Jester..." Once again she bit her lip as she searched the eyes of her partner through the holes of the mask, seeking to gauge his reaction to her reply as well as her next question, "You did hear about that, did you not?"
 
Spinning her close, one arm wrapped around her, holding her back to chest with him, the other hand tapping that molded frown slowly. "South side hospital you say..." The voice held quite the amused undercurrent as he slowly spun the two of them to observe everything else. Nodding his head slowly he laughed, racously echoing through the mask. Yes, he had heard of it. In fact, he had blown it up! And what a sight that had been. He shook his head quickly, the free hand first pushing back his mask letting the unwanted thing fall to the floor and then quikly snapping into his coat, pulling out a large pistol. Loosing two rounds into the air, the partons were stopped in their tracks.

Mask peeled away, a green haired man stood clutching the daughter of one of the richest businesses in his arm. Black circles were smeared over his eyes and a grin that was not all his lips showed behind blood red makeup. The tips of his lips were extended slightly due to the scarring that had happened, but his smile was quite real under the white face. The Jester. One of the most feared villains of the city and he was standing there quite nonchalantly staring right at Daddy. "Evening. How are we all doing this evening?"
 
Even before his mask revealed the true man underneath, she knew. Something in those eyes again, right in the moment she asked, right before he spun her around. She knew. The sound of his voice as he held her close only made her believe it more. And the pistol in his hand was all the final conformation she needed to know that she was suddenly in very, VERY big trouble!

The Jester himself, with a tight grip upon her, flaunting his bait before her father and the rest of her guests. She watched as her father's face paled as he removed his mask. Daddy wanted to be face to face with the mad man as he negotiated with him. "What do you want Jester?" her father asked calmly. "What is it you want to let my daughter and all the rest of our guests go?"

Through it all, Victoria was still as a statue and silent as a church mouse. She had heard this Jester was an unstable fellow and she dared not do anything to turn his switch to total lunatic. She wished her father would do the same and just let the mad man do all the talking.
 
His head cocked to the side. Let her go? Now why would he let his dance partner go? With how ridiculous it sounded to him, he tossed back his head and let out a long winded chuckle. He held the richest woman in the city in his arms and Daddy had the gall to merely ask, and not even in a worried voice, what he wanted? Well, if he couldn't muster up the decency to show concern, then maybe he should just relieve the old buzzard of the money siphon.

So, with a chuckle and wave of the gun, the barrel finally came to rest right on Victoria's temple. Pulling back the hammer, he watched Daddy with vested interest. "What I want. That is quite the hard question... So while I think of an answer, what you say you blue bloods empty your pockets and accounts into those bags?" Even with the question inflection, there was no room for saying no. The performers were busy walking through the crowds, manhandling anyone who didn't move quite fast enough. Soon three held large bags of loot the others training guns on the patrons. Jester though, still clinging to Victoria, seemed to busy in a staring match to notice they were almost ready.
 
All the party goers started to shed jewels and empty pockets. All but Victoria's father. He was engaged still in the stare down with Jester. Neither man realized that Victoria was a part of the stare down as well so she watched her father's face intently. Watched so see if her father could show any kind of feeling or expression for her. It hurt her that as the gun became point to her head, there was no worry in his face. Only a rage. One she assumed was directed more towards Jester mankind a fool of him then taking his daughter hostage. Sighing, Victoria shook her head and looked away. It hurt to much to look. At least she still had some feelings for her father. He had none for her.

Meanwhile, her father was glaring at Jester. A bag was passed to him and without ever dropping his eyes from Jester's, he removed his watch, took his wallet from his pocket, and put his wedding ring in the bag. "Well Jester, what now? We've all given you everything we have on us. What more could you want?"
 
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