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Perched rigidly on the head of a fallen bronze hero, Moby the Jester leans back and forth with an imaginary wind blowing through the chapel in his head. According to his thoughts, magic captures the tangible moment. His tunic flutters and his bells are brought to a mischievous jingle.
His posture momentarily becomes alert as his comically induced trance is broken by the scraping of the chapel door against the stone floor.

Moby, maligned at the ignorance of Aurora, wills the arm of the statue bent and slides down it as if it were oiled, somersaulting in the air and striking the head with his rod on the way down.
Thrashing around to muster threats from his bells, he slinks toward Aurora, ready to kick the staff from under her with a pointed toe.

Moby fixed himself and became as frigidly still as the stone floor. His bells continued to jingle merrily, under the benefit of nothing.
He stood for a moment in surreal statue stagnancy, his bells all the while jingling in rhythm to his eyes as they shifted from corner to corner in exaggeration.
"Why yes, madam," he said, "I do enjoy a large audience, and you're certainly a full house."
Moby relaxed and flopped his arms about disjointedly into the pockets of his tunic. After a moment, he pulled a pack of cards from one and began to play it as if it were a flute. At every note, a card flew from it and orbited him haphazardly until the pack was spent. He then cupped his hands in front of him and twirled about as the cards were drawn into them.
He fanned them.
"Would you like to see a card trick?"

Moby the Jester grinned with mercury fangs. He slowly, seemingly out of habit, parted his teeth and ran his tongue across the top row, then withdrew his tongue into the recesses of his maw to say,
"Pick a card, my dear Aurora!"
For a brief instance, his eyes darted diagonally and met with the copper cataracts of one of the statues.

"Place your card back into the deck, my dear. The finale is soon to come!"
The Jester fanned the cards once again, tilting them toward Aurora so she could slide the card back into the deck.
Upon doing this, he quickly squared the deck and threw it high into the air. The cards, by a snap of his fingers, exploded in a fifty two firework display and each fluttered down to the ground to form a perfect circle around him. With another snap of his fingers, he waggled his tongue at Aurora and giggled as the ace of hearts broke from the circle and hovered in front of her face.
"The most sensitive heart always leaves the circle broken, my dear."
After a silence of understanding, he added,
"It isn't so impressive when magic is familiar, is it?"
He cackled at his own bitter insight and doubled over as the corner of the card flicked Aurora's scrunched nose, causing a slight cut from which blood trickled.

"Ah, my dear, the finale has hardly arrived! I lament and regret that you must leave, for the show has jus- tomes, you say?"
Moby looked around, surveying the chapel hall with an expression of sincere helpfulness painted upon his face. He stuck out his tongue and bit it in concentration. Finally, he said,
"Oh, it appears I'm standing on top of several tomes. haha. The most elusive things are always right under one's own nose!"
Surely enough, Moby stood elevated on top of several ancient, flesh bound volumes. He took a short hop and the entire stack phased through the stone floor as his feet impacted the uppermost volume with a tinkle of breaking glass issuing from his bells.
"THE FINALE! LET THE THING BE DESTROYED!"
A careful card tower stillness was erected in the room as all four bronze statues became castles of bleeding heart aces.
The Jester disappeared.

It was fun to observe the ignorant masses in their foolish lives but none were more entertaining to watch than those who tried to enjoy their pitiful existence. One such man expertly clad in the attire of a clown, or was it a jester? Either way this man was desperately trying to enjoy life to its fullest by entertaining a strange woman. It almost caused a chuckle to escape the vocals of a creature attached to a stone wall. His presence was that of a stone and such his skin matched the color perfectly. Crawling along the mass of architecture the man slowly made a path towards the large double doors. He wanted to join in on the festivities.

He snuck past another man, one that appeared to have his foot half way through deaths door. Dropping down a couple feet without a single sound he landed in the doorway. Standing erect his body shifted in a matter of seconds to take on the appearance of a normal human male. He let his existence be known as such a male and no longer stone before entering into the chapel. Such fond memories this place once held, and such memories will forever stay within the males head.

“Um. Excuse me. Are you by any chance a priest of this place?” The male asked as he walked up from behind the man clad in black, portraying a person who knew not of the shot fired moments before since he supposedly(But obviously not really) arrived after such acts were committed.