I thought that you'd want what I want, Sorry, my dear
But where are the clowns? There ought to be clowns...
Jester
Finally!
Finally, he had it under control, he was prepared this year, there would be no psychotic fall out. At least, he didn't imagine there would be, he had prepared his psyche weeks in advance meaning that he could do his duties as the Ace of Mauraders, for Hostia's first Christmas event under the rulership of Errings Rising. That and he wanted to test himself, getting out and about during a festival no doubt, if he could overcome this, then he would surely be at a greater advantage going forward.
Perhaps it helped that there was still a solemness in the air, and whilst Hostia had truly adapted to the change that had occurred since the overtaking of their new queen. There were still some who weren't used to the change, and so were still resistant to it. But alas, that was to be expected, this did slaughter hundreds of their people after all. True acceptance would come with time and a period of peace for its people. And whilst this wasn't as fun for the clown, who preferred chaos, it suited his plans. His plans to continue to bring his queenie into power, just where would they conquer next though? He couldn't wait to find out.
Until such a plan come to fruition, preparation would take time and with it, boredom. Which was why he was hopping through the time, patrolling as it were, having forced Oakey along for the hell of it. Jester knew full well just how much Oakey abhorred his company, and it thrilled him greatly. If he was going to do such a dull task, he at least needed some entertainment. And what better than to terrorize the curious blonde man who so broodily worked for the guild. Jester was also curious about him, about his purpose specifically, why was Oakey in Errings Rising? What was his plan, oh how he wanted to know.
Eyes widening at the sight of a stall, Jester skipped over, grabbing fabrics without invitation. He quickly began to work, his hands moving at an unnatural speed as he sowed something together. When it came to any form of craftsmanship, including that of knitting, Jester's skills were nothing short masterful, and it a matter of moment he would spin toward his companion. A bright green and red jumper in hand, a skeletal Santa imprint on it's front, with lights embedded into the fabric. "Yoo hoo, Oakey, you're looking a bit chilly good sir..." He snickered, before racing toward the man maniacally, cackling as he attempted to wrestle the jumper onto him.