𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙

The Crimson Comedians

The night clung to the city like a suffocating blanket. Under the crimson hue of the blood moon, New York's skyline looked like the ruins of a fallen kingdom.

There was a stillness that felt unnatural, almost oppressive, as though the world itself held its breath, waiting for the next bout of chaos to erupt.

On the rooftop of a crumbling skyscraper, Lunarist Addison sat perched on the ledge, her legs swinging over the abyss below. Her gaze was fixed on the moon, her eyes glinting with quiet amusement as if she were in on some grand cosmic secret.

She hummed a soft tune to herself, her voice carrying on the faint wind like a nursery rhyme twisted into something darker.

She traced a clawed finger through the air, leaving trails of glowing energy in her wake. In seconds, the energy coalesced into a shape—a balloon-like creature with round eyes and stubby legs that bounced up and down in front of her.

"Look at you, all cute and puffy," Addison said softly, watching the glowing construct wobble in the air. "You think you're safe up here, don't you? Just floating around, waiting for the next big pop."

With a flick of her wrist, the balloon burst into shimmering dust, the particles scattering on the wind. "Oops. Too bad," she murmured, a quiet note of mischief in her voice.

She was about to conjure another playful construct when a shadow shifted at the edge of her vision. Her eyes didn't leave the moon, but a faint smile touched her lips.

"You know, buddy, it's rude to sneak up on someone when they're enjoying themselves," she said, her tone light but carrying a cautious edge.

A low chuckle came from the darkness behind her, calm and deliberate. "Enjoying yourself, huh? Is that what you call it, Addison?"

The voice was familiar, laced with a dry, biting humor. Addison's eyes flicked toward the shadow but didn't fully turn. Her grin grew a bit wider. "Well, well," she said, her voice calm but with a hint of satisfaction. "Took you long enough, Gian."

From the darkness, the figure stepped into view. His posture was relaxed, his hands casually at his sides, but there was something predatory about the way he moved, like a wolf circling prey it hadn't decided to pounce on—yet.

His hood was pulled low, casting his features in shadow, but Addison didn't need to see his face to know who it was. "Why do I get the feeling you've been watching me for a while?" Addison asked, her tone dry. "Lurking in the shadows like some moody ghost. You could have said hello."

The figure chuckled again, the sound dark and dry. "I wanted to see if you were still... you. Seems like nothing's changed."

Addison stretched her arms lazily, her joints popping in unnatural ways as they extended. "Oh, bud, I'm always me." Her arm morphed into a long, clawed hand, and she let it dangle over the edge of the roof. "But you... you're a mystery wrapped in shadows, aren't you?"

Lunarist Gian stepped closer, stopping just shy of the moonlight. "A mystery? Hardly. You've always had a thing for drama, Addison. But I guess that's just who you are."

Her smile sharpened, and for the first time, she turned to face him fully. There was still a lightness in her eyes, but something darker simmered underneath. "Why don't you drop the act, then? I know you, and you know me. So, what's the deal? Why are you here?"

For a moment, Lunarist Gian said nothing, as if considering his next move. Finally, he stepped into the light, pulling back his hood to reveal his face—sharp features, red-tinted eyes, and that ever-present grin that hovered between amusement and menace.

"Gian," Addison said, her voice still tinged with amusement. "I should've known." Lunarist Gian's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a mix of dark humor and something colder. "You're slipping, Addison. You usually figure these things out faster."

Addison twirled her staff, the weapon having morphed from her severed arm without her missing a beat. She leaned on it, casual. "I knew you'd show up eventually. You always liked dramatic entrances. What kept you?"

Lunarist Gian shrugged, his voice casual but with a hint of mockery. "Had a few loose ends to tie up. You know how it is—spreading chaos, wrecking lives. The usual."

Addison's laughter rang through the air, light but with an edge. "Ah, the usual. Isn't it funny how much we've changed, and yet... we haven't changed at all?"

Lunarist Gian's gaze flicked to her staff, the lunar shards embedded in it glowing faintly under the blood moon's light. "You seem to be doing just fine for yourself. But I wonder..."

He stepped closer, voice lowering as he leaned in slightly. "Do you ever get tired of it? The chaos, the games?"

Addison's eyes glinted, her smile never faltering. "Tired?" She let out a soft chuckle. "No, buddy. Chaos is the game. And I'm the only one who knows how to play it right."

Lunarist Gian's smile flickered slightly, but the humor stayed in his eyes. "Is that so? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you've been playing solo for a little too long. The others... they don't get you, do they?"

For a split second, Addison's grin faltered, but it returned just as quickly. "They understand enough. But you... you're different." Her tone softened, almost conspiratorial. "You get it, don't you?"

Lunarist Gian's smile widened, though his eyes stayed cold. "I get it. You and me, we're built for this. The chaos, the destruction. But unlike you, Addison, I've got bigger plans."

Addison tilted her head, curiosity flaring. "Bigger plans? You've got my attention, bud. What's your angle?"

Lunarist Gian's eyes gleamed with predatory intensity, though his tone remained casual. "The others? They think small. The kids, their little missions, their petty fights. But we... we can reshape this world. Make it more than just survival."

Addison's grin grew wider, excitement dancing in her eyes. "I do like ambition. But what's your punchline, hmm? Where's this little game going?"

Lunarist Gian's voice dropped to a whisper, his eyes locking onto hers. "The punchline, Addison, is that we're the ones pulling the strings. Not them. Not even the moon. Us. And they'll never see it coming."

The two stood in silence for a long moment, the tension between them thickening, not with hostility, but with shared understanding. They were both creatures of chaos, both masters of the game. But Gian's ambitions ran deeper, darker.

Addison's grin returned, sharper and more dangerous. "I do like the sound of that."

Lunarist Gian's smile mirrored hers. "I knew you would."

Above them, the blood moon glowed brighter, casting long, jagged shadows across the rooftop. Below, the city remained oblivious to the conversation unfolding above.

And as the two lunarists stood side by side, a new kind of chaos was set into motion—one that would shake even the blood moon to its core.