Chapter Text
There were rumors.
Several of the inhabitants of the LifeSteal towns had been whispering that there were people coming... whether by force or by choice, they didn't know… but he had heard all the rumors of one in particular.
Someone who had rubbed a few too many shoulders wrong. A person who had taken too many things that weren't his. Someone who talked a little bit too smooth to a few too many people.
Either way... it was...
Curious.
And as days trickled into weeks, snowballing into a month, those rumors continued to float around the large cities of LifeSteal—like Capital City and the walls which distanced the poorer towns from the richer—but like a parasite, they lingered and slowly grew into facts.
This person was...not capable in a typical way. Low on hearts and a weakness is what many people claimed, and yet the experienced citizens of these cutthroat lands determined that this man seemed the most promising.
And soon, instead of rumors about his setbacks, there were whispers of his strengths...of an undeniable charm that ended in deaths... in traps that rivaled the likes of MrCube…
Yet, a name was never provided. The man walked like a shadow in the towns and cities, wrecking havoc with a laugh… only to disappear.
That was how ClownPierce found himself, head low and eyes barely lit as he prowled through the edges of the shadows, searching for this... stranger.
Curiosity had always been something that was his weakness—a driving hunger to KNOW that always seemed to push action into his petrified limbs when a fight wasn't possible. Perhaps... he would even get a good fight out of this...
Though, as the Netherian continued to stalk through alleys and sidestreets, he caught sight of a particularly puzzling person casually leaning up against a building.
On the other side of the main road resided a short man... shockingly short, because he was shorter than Rekrap (whom ClownPierce knew from a previous alliance). This man stood beside Rekrap himself, chatting with animated gestures and bright expressions…
... and the curious bit wasn't that Rekrap—who feared everything and everyone—was talking and LAUGHING with him…
No. It was that shock of winter white hair and brilliant, vibrant eyes of violet that glowed in the sunlight.
Now that was odd and unusual, because he definitely wasn't a hybrid of any sort. He was just... curious... and new. Very, very new.
Clown's head slowly tilted as he settled into a crouch, silently watching the exchange. He had barely exchanged words long enough with Rekrap to know much about him... but he knew enough that the other NEVER trusted... let alone so...
Openly. Quickly.
He settled to observe a little more, a stiff, clay smile stretching slowly beneath his bone mask. Perhaps... this would be the person he needed...
The man—hands casually tucked into his pockets—rolled away from the wall and began to waltz with a welcoming little sway across the street. Rekrap trailed behind, beaming and chuckling at something this curious man had said.
The pair was intriguing... familiar. They knew each other from something... before this anomalous man moved to LifeSteal. Perhaps Rekrap was the reason for this journey from one grouping of city to the next?
Whatever the case, it didn't matter at the moment.
All that mattered was that the curious man had his back turned and was heading right towards where ClownPierce lurked.
A familiar hunger for violence prickled through his veins, all of his rational plans slipping into that comfortable haze as he stalked closer. The cold shiver of a diamond blade was in his hands before he even thought to summon it, his eyes locked on his target as he waited for him to get closer.
This kill would be easy... delicious, in fact. He could bask in Rekrap's horror and the civilians calmly strutting past pop-up shops.
It'd be easy... just a few more steps... and then–
–the man hit the sidewalk... full on. His heel caught at the lip of the concrete, and with a high-pitched yelp, that white head of hair crashed to the ground in a daze.
The suddenness of the blunder shocked Clown out of the familiar, safe daze of a hunt, the sudden clarity making him only able to blink as he stared down at the stranger at his feet. What... what had just...
Had this guy... just... tripped... ?
So much for stealth...
Still on the ground, the guy blinked up at the cerulean sky above, arms stretched above his head with feet dangling off the edge of the sidewalk. It was certainly an intriguing sight, the way he didn't scramble to check that no one had seen and that no one was about to ambush him in the midst of his blunder.
He just laid there, a slow grin forming on his face… and slowly, a giggle escaped him. The childish tenor shifted into full blown laughter, and with assistance from Rek, he sat up (back still turned to the alleyway) and ran fingers through his winter hair.
"That-!" came his boisterous yet contagiously delighted tone, "-was sad."
Clown couldn't help the little hum that was brought from him, pure confusion and befuddlement echoing in the depths of his dead core in a way he hadn't experienced in a very long time. Either this being... simply didn't care he was practically laying at the feet of the deadliest being in the known realms... or he had the self awareness of a blind and deaf camel with no self preservation.
... bets were on the latter, because the guy skipped back onto his feet with a snicker.
"Thank Notch no one was there to see that, 'cause can you imagine my reputation after that? The BranzyCraft that's trapping people casually falls down because he tripped."
A shudder pebbled his skin as he unknowingly walked straight towards the alley Clown was crouched in.
"Yikes~ That'd be bad. I-I mean, imagine I fall and then run into someone like ClownPierce who saw that! That would be AWFUL!"
Clown blinked, his face once more slipping into that reflection of his mask as he let his bells jingle softly.
"That would be horrible."
The guy—BranzyCraft—shrieked, "OH MY SWEET STICKY PISTONS-!" and proceed to topple right back onto the concrete.
Clown couldn't help the small, rasping chuckle that carved its way out of his throat, the sound hollow and inhuman as he tilted his head, bells ringing gently as he crouched over the newcomer.
"Hello, BranzyCraft."
Said BranzyCraft rapidly blinked wide, purple puddles up at the masked, emberglow eyes of ClownPierce.
"... h-hi? N-Nice 'ta meet'cha... uhm... I think." The redstoner propped himself onto elbows, gnawing on his lip as he glanced around for Rekrap... wwwwho had fled.
Of course.
"... fudgescicle, this isn't how I expected t-to meet you." Violet shuttered back to Clown. "I was expectin'... uh... y'know..." He gestured to his neck, mimicking a sword pressing against the soft flesh there.
Clown slowly tilted his head the other way, blinking once before pressing the cold edge of his sword to the engineer's exposed neck.
"Better?"
Branzy tensed with the feel of frigid gemstone against his throat.
"HA-! HAHA-" sputtered he, voice raising an impossible two octaves. "T-This is great! Juuuust how I envisioned it. T-Thank you, uh... M-Mr Pierce..."
A harsh swallow—followed by the rapid flicker of focus from the streets, to ClownPierce, to the blade ready to steal a life, and back—was all the further reply he could manage.
… hm.
Any other time, Clown would have driven the blade home without a thought. Any other time, the killer Jester would have let the Curse his crave for violence take its control and walk away... forever in his hazed existence between Life and Death.
But this time...
He hummed, an eyebrow raising under his mask as he stared at the strange, white-haired BranzyCraft… and for the first time, he pushed back the violence coiling in his veins.
He was... curious.
Far... far too curious.
This one... didn't run.
This one... didn't move. Didn't fight, didn't thrash, didn't beg.
He just sat there, elbows swinging off the edge of the concrete and chest heaving erratically.
... why didn't he run?–
"Uh… Mr Pierce?" Branzy's stuttering, anxious voice summoned attention once more. "I-I think this is... uhm... great and all, but... c-can I at least be threatened when I'm standing? That way you can... do... uh... w-well, I don't know what this is about, but-"
That was a terrible idea. To let him stand was to give him an opportunity to run or fight. To let him stand was to let his prey get away.
Yet, with the confusion swirling in Clown's mind, he couldn't bring himself to question it as he slowly slid his blade away, body moving in an unnaturally smooth way as he slid to his own feet and watched the other with that same, perpetual, confused curiosity.
"Phew-" Branzy puffed out, hopping onto his feet with a stretch of his spine. "Thank you..."
He glanced up and ooooh golly ClownPierce was tall. The redstoner was short, yeah, but this guy was actually tall. Like... a good head or two taller than him.
" ...thaaat's fun…"
Branzy absently dusted himself off, glancing around the sparse street with an eye of interest. "So, w-what's this about? Did you run into me by accident orrrr... ?"
Oh right... people normally communicated when they didn't kill each other. How... what was he supposed to say?
Clown shifted awkwardly a bit on his feet, his painfully clear mind struggling to pull together some sort of sentence as he stared at Branzy.
"I was trying to find you."
Branzy raised a dubious eyebrow.
"M-Me? What for?" It wasn't like he was teammate material; he was KNOWN for double-crossing whomever he wanted without a single regard for the aftermath...
… and besides, he had a team right now for some reason. He was—quite literally—the last person anyone should be looking for.
And yet Death's Jester was here anyways.
Clown took longer than he knew was socially acceptable to answer, his eyes flicking on and off behind the mask as he tried to come up with words after a whole second life of limited communication.
"I was curious. And I wanted to kill you."
"Oh!… Well, curiosity isn't ba- I'm sorry?!" His eyes snapped to ClownPierce "Y-You what?! You came looking to KILL ME?! What did I DO... okay, well, the question should be what I haven't but nonetheless-"
Branzy held up a stern finger, brow furrowing.
"I haven't done anything to you specifically yet."
That "yet" wasn't lost on Clown as he remained standing stiffly, far too immobile to be considered natural but unsure how to mimic it after so long. He would have to try and think on what the "yet" meant later."Because your back was exposed, and I needed the Heart."
Branzy shook his head, vagabond in confusion. "Needed the Heart"? Wasn't he on twenty?!
... a-and hey, just because he was being a dumb-dumb and walking backwards didn't mean he needed to get stabbed in the back. That was his thing.
"... o-okay," started up the engineer, "so... let me get this straight. You came to find me... and then decided you wanted to kill me?"
Clown didn't even miss a beat, his still, motionless form doing nothing to soften the blow as he flat stared at Branzy.
"Yes."
"............... lovely." Branzy rocked on his heels, humming with pursed lips. "... t-that all, er... 'cause I'm gonna go. Places to be and all that…"
The killer clown tilted his head, slowly shaking it as he positioned himself smoothly to block the exit.
"I haven't really killed you yet."
BranzyCraft tensed.
"W-Well, I figured... I assumed you weren't gonna do that still-" He grimaced with an over-exaggerated crinkle of his nose. "How about—insteeead—you don't kill me. Huuuuh~?"
Displaying his palms outwards, Branzy grinned like this was actually the best idea he'd ever come up with.
"'Ya don't kill me... and I leave... aaaaand we never have this interaction again! Sound good?"
Clown just stared at him, eerily silent as he tried to make sense of the words. That... was incredibly one sided. He wouldn't even get a Heart from it.
The Jester didn't even try for words this time, instead summoning his Scythe with a flick of his wrist.
"OKAY WAIT-" Branzy's laughter rose in pitch, hands now frantically waving back and forth. "B-Before you do ANYTHING rash ... uhm... D-Do you have any redstone projects you need done?"
... the following silence was encouraging, so he continued. Anything to get him outta this mess."I'm, like, really good with redstone... s-so if you don't kill me, I'll... uh... I'll do it for free! No payment required otherthanbeinganalliance b-but yeah! What about that?"
Now this actually made Death's Jester hesitate for the second time in his existence, his motion halting unnaturally like a stalled puppet as he mulled over the offer.
He... he actually had been trying to put several things together with... very little success (None. No success. Not even once). He tilted his head a bit more, trying to ignore the creeping chill along his fingers as he hummed.
"I've been trying to build a rigged Casino... but the redstone hasn't really been working."
Craft's head perked up.
"Oh?"
..a casino, huh? Rigged, no less... That could be useful. He could snatch some resources off of ClownPierce if he worked on the internals... gather some extra tools and maybe a few Hearts from wandering patrons...
...yeah... YEAH!... this was a good idea! Working with the most dangerous assassin in LifeSteal? Toootally not an issue...
"I can do that!" Branzy exclaimed. "I've got some, uh... experience..."
Liaaaaarrrr, but the confidence was what he needed, so he swayed forward a few steps with a brilliant smile plastered to his face. "Whatcha thinkin' specifically, Mr Pierce?"
The question sparked a small flicker of... something… deep within his core... the feeling barely there as he let out a small hum. A smile flickered under bone.
"A Heart Roulette, some pitfall traps... diamond gambling... drink bar. The perfect one stop getaway to gamble away your life."
...
... that... that was easy. EASY money. Branzy would need to perfect a roulette design, but a few sleepless nights could get him there without much of an issue.
This was too easy. It was HIS deal... and he'd been draining resources from ClownPierce whilst boosting his facaded reputation. HA... ! This might be the easiest scam he'd ever do!
... a-all he had to do was stay on Clown's good side and NOT get caught, and he was home free, protection in tow with stolen goodies locked in an Ender Chest! At that point, he could break ties with Vitalasy and Subz without issue! This. Was. PERFECT!
"Oh, psshaw!" Branzy sniffed, dismissing the requests with a flick of his wrist. "Nooo problem for little 'ol me! I can get that done without issue! All I gotta ask for in return is pretty simple!"
He held out his tattooed hand, beaming like he wasn't about to scam the living daylight outta Clown. "I want protection. Simple, easy, and hopefully not a huge ask from 'ya, right?"
… Protection.
The long forgotten memory of screams and dying fire haunted the back of his thoughts, his mind instantly recoiling from them with a panicked flinch as he stiffly stuck his hand out.
This... th-this wasnt like... then. He didn't care about this... BranzyCraft. He never would.
He would tell him whatever he needed to hear in order to get that help.
"Deal."