Work Text:
As the court jester to the King of Spades, it was Jevil's duty to perform for crowds and individuals alike and to bring out as many smiles as possible. It was a fun job, although it often entailed making a fool of himself. But such was the life of a jester, so there was no need to complain. Not that he wanted to, anyway. In his heart of hearts, Jevil knew that being a joker was his calling.
Jevil had performed for many people over the years, but very few members of the crowd would qualify as his favorite audience. Naturally, his first favorite would be his magician companion and colleague, Seam. That old cat was so much fun to match wits with, despite, or perhaps, because of their contrasting personalities. They would often exchange jokes and play tricks on each other, and it was always a pleasure to see the focused furball let loose.
His second favorite? Why, the King himself, of course! The man was Jevil's boss, after all, and the King always looked like he was in need of a laugh anyway. He greatly valued the few times he saw the otherwise imposing monarch subtly, yet gleefully chuckle with both mouths from his performances, as seeing him do so with just one was rare in itself. The King was often tight-lipped and serious, naturally so for a man in his position, so it made Jevil's heart swell with pride knowing someone so supposedly humorless could have a good laugh once in a while.
His third was the King's very young son, Prince Lancer. A surprisingly jovial and talkative tot he was. Despite his clownish and childish nature, Jevil didn't think himself the type to have a soft spot for the young ones, but he couldn't deny that making the royal tyke laugh was a gift all on its' own.
His antics kept the boy occupied and well out of the oft-busy King's hair - or... fur. Who's to say, really? - and best of all, Jevil didn't even need to do much. Just seeing his favorite jester was apparently enough to make the kid smile. Despite knowing this, Jevil would still put his best foot forward to make his day. Sure, it was his job, but that didn't mean he had to be all-business about it. A magic trick here, a song and dance there, and Lancer would be cheering in awe and excitement within moments.
While wandering the castle grounds, the young prince once caught sight of him and timidly approached from behind. The boy reached a small gloved hand up to jingle the bells dangling from the pointed tips of Jevil's hat. Surprised, the jester turned his head to look, which caused Lancer to pull his hands back and rest them stiffly and sheepishly at his sides. "I'm sorry. I just, um... I wanted to play with you some more."
Jevil blinked at that, expression blank. But he quickly shifted into his iconic playful, toothy smile, laughing as he did so. "Well, well, you could've just asked!"
At that, Lancer's face lit up with innocent delight, beaming up at Jevil as he laughed along. Under his spade shaped veil, it was easy to glean that his smile reached his eyes. Though it was unexpected, and he wasn't necessarily required to do it, he was in a good mood and felt like throwing the kid a bone. After only a moment of thinking, he soon had an idea for a quick little game they could play.
"So, would you like to play a game of..." The jester then waved his hands, and four symbols - a heart, a club, a diamond, and a spade, of course - appeared before him. He took a brief moment to think of a suitable title for his newly created game. "...Symbol Tag?"
Lancer, ever so curious, asked, "What's that?"
"It's a simple, simple little game! All you have to do is chase the symbols, and once you've 'tagged' at least eight of each, you win." In all honesty, Jevil only just now made up these rules, but they seemed simple enough to understand. And of course, Lancer seemed to enjoy the idea. "Okay! Let's play Symbol Tag!"
The jester entertained the boy by conjuring dancing, spinning, and flying symbols, with which they played together for quite a while. Jevil was, of course, courteous enough to make the game easy, and Lancer was instantly hooked on it. It may have been a few hours, or perhaps a mere few minutes, but as they say, time flies when you're having fun. Lancer loved watching the familiar card symbols dance and spin, reaching out to interact with them only to have them pull further away. The child chased the symbols back and forth as Jevil continued to improvise the game, and whenever the prince had tagged all eight of each, he'd ask to play again.
Though it was repetitive, Lancer didn't seem to tire of it too quickly, only stopping when he caught sight of his father at the end of the hall. Stopping just as he was about to - fittingly enough - tag a spade from the air, the prince swiftly moved both of his hands below him and clasped them together in an effort to look well-behaved.
"Ah, there you are! Come along now, Lancer." Hearing the familiar voice of his boss, the symbols surrounding Jevil disappeared as he turned to face the source of the sound and saw the King standing there with a strange look on his face. The prince's smile faded slightly, toddling towards him on command, likely sad that he had to give up their game. "And stop bothering the jester."
"Worry not, your majesty. He wasn't bothering me at all! We were just playing a little game." Jevil replied with a cheeky grin, though the King didn't seem to care. The monarch scooped his son up into his arms and disappeared as quickly as he came. And with that, Jevil turned back around, his expression faltering as he continued on his own way in the opposite direction. Something felt off about the King of Spades today, but Jevil knew better than to question it.
Aside from these oddities, it was a day like any other, but one Jevil found hard to forget.
In the darkest depths of the castle's dungeon, there was a single cell that housed a former joker with a pair of wild eyes opened to the truths of the universe. Life was ultimately just a game, and once this discovery was made, all the rules were broken. If it meant breaking the chains of a cyclic and orderly existence, Jevil would - and definitely could - do anything. He could live forever, he could never die. If the boundaries were broken, and if they were to see what he sees, so too could the other Darkners.
But they wouldn't listen. No one did.
The Darkners became afraid. They only feared what they didn't understand, and ignored his efforts to teach them. They believed they were already free, but true freedom lied just beyond their vision. It was as if it was something only Jevil could see, but he couldn't imagine something so obvious being so easily overlooked by everyone around him. Not even Seam believed him when he tried to spread the word. They just needed a push in the right direction, he thought, so he did what anyone would do to prove such a severe point as this.
He discovered, however, that if they didn't already have some belief in what he was saying, his point would forever remain unproven. This lack of belief cost lives, and such 'undue chaos' was the reason he was locked up by Seam in the first place. Despite his best efforts, it seemed that not everyone saw things they way he did.
But there was no resentment to be had for his old friend, and he would not mourn for what was lost between them. After all, Jevil had the old furball to thank for giving him a way out of the jail they were in, a place all his own, with the one condition being that he could never go back. Maybe someday, Seam would join him out here. It was only a matter of time, though time itself was an illusion.
In his heart of hearts, Jevil knew that being free was his true calling. Although this freedom was lonely and his minuscule living space was by no means a luxury suite, he'd rather remain out here forever if it meant never again stepping foot into the real prison, the one just behind the bars.
Though it wouldn't hurt to get at least one visitor once in a while.
While wandering the castle grounds, the King's young son found an area he had never been to before. He thought he knew the dungeon well, but today he had uncovered something new, or perhaps it was something hidden and forgotten. A long staircase led down to a lone cell at the center of the room, and as Lancer treaded carefully on the way down, he called out, "Uh... hello? Is anyone even down here?"
The boy caught sight of the prisoner within. Behind the bars stood a colorful man in jester clothing, and though he was familiar, Lancer couldn't quite recall who he was. Yet, he felt like he knew he had seen him somewhere before. The man, focused on something that only he could see, lifted his head once his pointed ears picked up the sound of footsteps. They shared a gaze and a brief silence, before the prisoner seemed to recognize Lancer and exposed a deranged row of sharp, jagged teeth in a smile. "Oh, it's you! It's you! My, my, how you have grown! Little prince, I thought you had forgotten all~ about your old pal, Jevil. No one comes to visit me, so it's hard not to feel forgotten."
"Um, what?" Lancer began, audibly confused. "Have we met before?"
"Yes, yes! Indeed, we have met. Perhaps you were far too young to remember me." The prisoner replied with a strange tone. "But I used to make you and your father laugh, laugh until your sides hurt, and tears brimmed from your eyes. You always used to love my tricks and my games! You were always so happy to see me!"
"We were all friends, friends! Perhaps we still are." He then grabbed the pointed ends of his hat and rang the bells on the ends, chuckling as he did so. "Does this ring any bells for you?"
A memory briefly flashed in his mind, and the boy distantly recalled the games they used to play together. "Oh! I remember you now!"
Lancer's smile grew upon finally being able to recognize the jester again. Then, noticing the predicament his old friend was in, he tilted his head inquisitively, his tongue dangling slightly from his mouth. "But... why are you locked up down here?"
"Oh, me? I'm not the one locked up. No, no. In fact, I'm the only free one." With hollow eyes, Jevil gripped the metal bars of his cell and stared straight through Lancer, pressing his head to the bars as he spoke with a somewhat light, giddy tone and letting out a soft, depressing cackle, as if mocking Lancer for being on the other side. "You are the real prisoner here!"
The response gave the prince visible pause as his smile dropped into a look of unnerved confusion. Lancer clearly didn't quite understand what any of that meant, and the way he was being looked at made him hesitant to ask. He swore he remembered the jester being a different person than this. "I don't get it."
"Of course not! No one ever does!" Jevil exclaimed, gripping the bars as he did so in a moment of madness to an outsider looking in. The sudden tone shift startled Lancer and caused him to back away, and upon noticing this, the jester stopped for a second. He took a deep breath and pulled back a little further behind the bars, his grip on them loosening. As if in a moment of clarity, he seemed to become apologetic for scaring him. "...Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
"It just gets so lonely, lonely, and so maddeningly quiet down here." Jevil lowered his head, resting against the bars again, seemingly with sorrow this time around. Lancer soon realized that he must've been here for a very long time, and he couldn't help but feel bad that Jevil was now stuck in the dungeon. For a potentially very good reason, of course, but he didn't quite know what it was. Such long-term loneliness would drive anyone mad.
Yet, he still felt - and looked - apprehensive, and his tense, concerned frown only grew wider. Jevil tried to think of a way to alleviate the tension, even a little. His face soon lit up, remembering the old games he used to play with the boy when he was much younger. With a markedly less-disturbing smile, Jevil reached a hand through the bars of his cell, conjuring a set of small symbols in his palm. "Hey, hey... would you like to play a game? Just like old times?"
An uncomfortable silence filled the room as the frightened prince stared down at Jevil's hand, visibly reluctant.
"Don't be afraid, little prince. I'm your friend, remember? I would never hurt you." Jevil encouraged, his voice uncharacteristically softer than it was mere moments ago. "You remember our old games of tag, yes? Catch the symbols, and if you get eight of each, you win. Don't you miss that? Wouldn't you like to play that game again?"
"Um... sure." Lancer smiled back, though he looked nervous, and was still quite uneasy. Despite how his friend had changed, Lancer couldn't deny that he missed playing games with the jester. The prince had an odd, sinking feeling about him, so he wasn't too willing to attempt releasing him, but he was still his friend, right? He hoped that playing the game would make Jevil feel a little less lonely.
"It's the same game as before, you see, but much, much simpler." Jevil rotated the symbols in his hands as he spoke, while generating more of them around the rather tiny room outside of his cell. "We're going to have to make do with this small space."
Like the game they played many years before, dancing, spinning, and flying symbols began appearing in the room surrounding Lancer. As if acting on memory alone, the prince began grabbing at the air, chasing hearts and diamonds alike as Jevil improvised the game around the small area. Just like Jevil said, it was like old times, and Lancer found himself easing into his fond memories of the game, playing it again and again. The two of them wore wide, friendly, genuine smiles as they played, knowing that the prince had a friend again and the jester found his old favorite audience. Jevil continued at Lancer's behest until, eventually, the boy became tired and out of breath from chasing and catching the symbols.
Jevil didn't really want it to end, though. Even if it was simple and repetitive like before, it was the most fun he had in a long time. Despite that, he ended the game for Lancer's comfort. The symbols disappeared, fading into nothing as if they were never there.
"That was a lot of fun, fun! It's been so long since I've had such fun!" Jevil exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. Although he could've made the game even more entertaining if he wanted to, his current idea of entertainment tended to scare most people these days, and would no doubt scare Lancer away for good. Right now, anything was better than the monotony of the freedom he had, even if it was as simple as a game of tag. "Didn't you have fun too, little prince?"
"Y-Yeah!" The prince huffed a response, laughing a little as he did so. He then sat on the ground, taking a minute to relax. "I didn't think running around a small room like this would tire me out so fast, though."
"Then rest, rest for however long you need," Jevil replied, grinning still, "and if you ever wish to play again, you know where to find me."
The two of them sat in silence for a short time, but this time it was a comforting silence, and it would've stayed that way if a sudden pillar of light hadn't beamed from behind Lancer. As they say, all things must come to an end, and thus stood a tall, sharply dressed, and very frustrated man, his clothing as blue as his skin and his lengthy hair a pure white. Jevil vaguely recognized him, but thought little of it as he watched the scene unfold.
The man pulled Lancer by the arm up to his feet and began to speak with a horrendously butchered vocabulary and a strange intonation. "Ah! There art thou! Of course thou wouldst be here, just as I had feared!"
"Thou are not ever to cometh down here, understand?!" The man scolded, yanking Lancer away from the cell with shaking hands, and shielding the child with his long arms. He glared at Jevil with wide eyes and a stiff scowl, though it was clear to see the chilling fear he had, within the anger he displayed, from where the jester was standing. "Does thou haveth any idea how dangerous this prisoner is?! Thou're lucky thou're still in one piece!"
"Cometh along now, Lancer." Still holding the prince's arm, the blue man yanked Lancer up the stairs and into the elevator. With the utmost venom in his voice, the man said something that, strangely, cut the jester deep, "Thou shouldst not play with evil demons."
Watching them disappear as the doors of the elevator closed, the quiet, lonely monotony resumed. Jevil lowered his head and closed his eyes, yet did not step away from the bars, as if he was waiting for Lancer to return. He knew better, of course, he always did. He knew the prince would never come back. A painful nostalgia gripped his heart, and for only a moment, Jevil regretted acquiring his ever so isolated freedom.
But once time itself disappeared again, he had shaken it off.