#characterization

👁️

three things: 1) feeling super validated about putting lara on guitar, 2) she's asked specifically about a hobby outside of music but gives a music-related answer anyway, and 3) i'm probably going to ignore sophia's "yep"

#2 is so fascinating to me. there really is absolutely nothing else she wants to be doing, even for fun

literally nowhere in the book does he do this. Gosling Grace does this once when the pair are escaping Adrian's atmosphere, but its not an established Eridian-English grammatical quirk.

the absence of a question implies a statement. like if Rocky were to use it as an imperative marker i'd be less miffed by the improper writing. and it's already established that he uses reduplication (i.e. amaze amaze amaze) for emphasis.

────୨ৎ────

≫ Little Harlequin headcanons & minor scenario/mild character study at the end! Lots and lots of yearning and emotional constipation. Yay!

≫ Very short lil thing, just until I can get my much larger works finished up. Still, hope you enjoy!

≫ Possible Warnings: Very slight misanthropy (if you squint hard enough), vulnerability, general slight angst towards the end. Lemme know if I missed anything!

≫ Harlequin is not a people-watcher in any sort of appreciative “seeing the beauty in humans” way. More like watching animals interact in a zoo. It’s entertaining. And it certainly hones his ability to read others through body language and facial expressions.

≫ He effortlessly gets close enough to listen in on any conversation he wants, even though his costume makes him stick out like a sore thumb. It’s quite interesting just how little humans notice when they’re distracted by simple things like conversation or their own personal activities.

≫ He waits and watches like a viper hiding between trees. He waits not for the perfect opportunity to strike, but to embed himself in an interaction without even participating in it. He’s rather patient when he wants to be.

≫ And, unlike a certain other red clown, he’s able to control his impulses rather well. The best and most rewarding of results are for those who wait patiently, and that manifests for him in many ways. Namely, finding his own entertainment in the streets while handing out flyers.

≫ His favorite interactions to watch and eavesdrop on are couples fighting in public without trying to make a scene. Those ones are rare but delightful treats.

≫ Subtle arguments in general are some of the most entertaining interactions for him to watch in general. He absolutely loves intruding on those arguments at the absolute worst time just to harmlessly and innocently offer a flyer and watch people’s reactions.

≫ There was one time where a married couple was discussing their divorce on a public bench. The look on their faces when Harlequin stepped from behind their bench to casually offer a flyer to the circus was priceless. One of them had tears in their eyes, the other a certain face that made him have to hold in his hysterical laughter.

≫ Granted, it doesn’t always end well for him. Sometimes he’s yelled at or rudely insulted. But most of the time, it’s worth it just to see people’s faces flush in embarrassment or rush to dismiss him when they instinctively knew they were being overheard.

≫ It’s something of a sport for him to force people to put their public masks of decency back on after just briefly revealing their true colors. He never tires of that same exact look on their faces…that look of being caught. Of being seen for who and what they really are.

≫ It’s especially thrilling to listen in and hear someone use a specific phrase or use of words, and then later casually mimic and mention it in an interaction with said person. It’s absolutely delightful to see someone briefly look confused as they visibly try to rationalize in their mind how he would know such a specific coincidental piece of information.

≫ When he goes out to explore the cities the circus travels to, he often scouts out for good places to not only hand out flyers, but also to watch and listen to people’s interactions unfold. Town squares and public parks are obviously the best places.

≫ Humans certainly are odd creatures, but they can be rather strangely funny at times as well. Harlequin can’t count the amount of times he’s overheard people casually say outrageous and absurd things while thinking nobody was listening closely.

≫ It’s also insanely fun to see how long he can get away with viewing something on someone’s laptop or phone screen over their shoulder. Most of the time he sees boring things like bland messages or mundane things of that sort, but every now and then he finds a goldmine of amusement.

≫ One time, he snuck quite a long look over a woman’s shoulder at a park. She was reading a seemingly innocuous book. Harlequin was going to give up on trying to catch glimpses of the pages until he saw…an interesting paragraph, to say the least. (Was that really the kind of filth humans enjoyed reading?)

≫ He tends to place people in categories and archetypal groups he makes in his head. There are the introverts who rarely say what’s on their mind (the most irksome and boring types), the oblivious outspoken people who constantly speak their minds (the most random and unpredictable ones), the kinds of people who try their best to hide their words in public (the most entertaining ones to subtly mess with), and so on and so forth.

≫ So imagine his surprise when a certain little barista doesn’t quite fit into any of them.

≫ The Harlequin thinks nothing of it at first. But that nagging realization that Pierrot’s precious little human doesn’t quite fade into the background with all the rest of the humans eats away at him more than he’d care to admit, even to himself.

≫ What made you different? It wasn’t something very noticeable. Instead of one obvious unique trait, it was many smaller ones that all combined to make you an anomaly to him. Perhaps it was the way you didn’t try to ignore him no matter how bothered you may be. Maybe it had something to do with how you didn’t let your mind be filled with the opinions of others.

≫ It was strange. Very strange indeed.

≫ But you were still a human at the end of the day. One that was quite fun to gauge for reactions and find amusement from Pierrot, but that was about it.

≫ At first.

≫ The longer he finds himself lingering in your presence, the more he learns about you. And it isn’t the hidden and shameful secrets that he’d expect to pry from you, it’s the little things that he retains the most. Your small habits that he finds himself remembering when you’re not around. Your idle movements when you’re content or unsettled or irritated.

≫ But even as he slowly learns more, he keeps finding himself surprised.

≫ Once, he invited you to watch other humans alongside him. A test of perception, he said. He watched as you looked from person to person, guessing what they were feeling and saying based off their body language and expressions alone. The two of you went back and forth, exchanging thoughts on what sorts of things other people could be talking about or thinking.

≫ But eventually, Harlequin’s eyes landed on you beside him and stayed there.

≫ What a strange little creature, he thought. So unaware of the monster right next to you. Unaware of how he sought to coil around you and never let go. Or worse, you were aware of the danger and simply didn’t care. That was intriguing. Did you think Pierrot would be able to protect you? Did you think you could defang and declaw a beast like him? Did you think that by being disgustingly sweet, he’d spit you out?

≫ He’d let out a hum out loud as he looked at you, which made you turn towards him. Your eyes showed naivety, but not stupidity. Skepticism, but not arrogance. You briefly glanced up and down as if to question what he was looking at. But then your eyes twinkled in a way that said you had an idea.

≫ “Give me anyone to look at. I’ll try to guess what they’re thinking.”

≫ Harlequin got an idea as well. He grinned wider upon placing a black and green patterned hand on his own chest.

≫ “You’ve insisted on being near me, dear one. On learning to observe. So observe me. Observe me down to my very core.”

≫ A fruitless and impossible challenge, Harlequin knew that. You likely knew that as well. But you still turned fully towards him and narrowed your eyes at his own, evidently willing to try the daunting task anyway with a level of seriousness and determination that would only make your undoubtedly false words feel all the more pleasurable to disprove and tease.

≫ Harlequin awaited your response as you stood there, eyes wandering from the bottoms of his boots to the very top of his curly black hair. Oh, he couldn’t wait for this.

≫ But you stayed quiet like that for longer than he expected. What was it that you saw? Better yet, what was it that you failed to see? There was a strange look in your eyes. One that said you knew something, or got rather close to knowing something. But that was simply impossible.

≫ He tried to probe, to get a glimpse of the gears turning in that head of yours.

≫ “Oh? What’s the matter? Not as observant as you thought?” He chuckled a dry sound that had a practiced amount of amusement in it. “Worry not. After all…you wouldn’t want to see something you can’t unlearn, would you?”

≫ Another moment passed, and then you seemingly let go of whatever it was you were trying to observe in him. You sighed and rolled your eyes in a joking manner, playfully complaining that the green clown had given you a difficult (if not nigh impossible) challenge on purpose.

≫ Just like that, the two of you moved on from that. Or at least, you appeared to. And the Harlequin obviously moved on from it like he always moved on from things. He didn’t linger on it. Outwardly.

≫ Harlequin found himself in an unexpected situation after that. No human had ever even come remotely close to perceiving him as anything but what he presented himself as. Why did you have that indescribable look? It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t quite knowing awareness either.

≫ This was a rare occurrence. Very rare.

≫ Such interesting developments like that kept occurring. He’d poke and prod at your psyche, worm and wriggle his way into your thoughts only to realize that you were doing the same to him without even trying. What was even worse was that you said nothing about it unless he did—which is to say, never.

≫ Your arms were held open for him, not inviting but simply waiting. It was unsettling. Unfamiliar. For all of the sharp edges he knows he has, for all the thorns and barbs and poisoned claws, you acted as though you were ready to bleed and be corrupted anyway.

≫ What a foolish thing you are. A butterfly flown into a spider’s web. A deer fallen in a pit of snakes. Just another human who would only end up a shambling husk wearing pink for knowing too much…or worse.

≫ Foolish, he thinks, while watching you from afar while you speak to that red lovesick fool.

≫ Foolish, he thinks, while waiting for you outside your work to walk you home.

≫ Foolish, he thinks, while wondering what it would be like for you to be his.

≫ Foolish, he thinks, while wondering what it would be like to be yours.

≫ There would only be one way this ends. And no matter what happened in the meantime, he wouldn’t be caught dead in any sort of state of vulnerability. He will be the one who waits and watches.

≫ That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

≫ He maintains his sharp grin for no one but himself. The whole world is but a stage, and a stage is a place where every last movement is scrutinized. If not by others, then by one’s self. That’s why maintaining a mask is so important. And that’s why it was important to recognize one’s own archetype quickly.

≫ Harlequin is the seductive villain. That is the role the world had cast for him, one that he gladly accepted and made his own. Yet you looked into his eyes as if you saw more than that. How disgusting. How pitiful. How naive.

≫ There is only one way this can end, he reminds himself.

≫ But when he gazes at other insignificant humans with their false faces and predictable archetypes, when he compares how simple they are to how you’re different, that resolve isn’t weakened, but questioned. He hates that. Hates what you make him do, what you make him think when you’re not around.

≫ But not once does he think to hate you.

————

≫ Even when I try to write some humorous/lighthearted stuff, it ends up turning into at least slight angst anyway. >_>

≫ Uhhh oops?

≫ Anyway this was really a sort of exercise to attempt to characterize Harlequin not exactly in a sympathetic light, but I guess in a more grounded way if that makes sense? It’s really a light (and I do mean light) study/personal interpretation of the mask he puts on for others (and even himself).

≫ So yeah, just a little thing I thought up to post until I can get one of my larger works out (it’s over 10k words and not even close to being done T-T)!

≫ This post was made without the use of AI. Please do not feed any text from this work into any character-based AI or other LLM.