Zoey

Marie

Ignacio

Galen

Ollie

Tala

Quinn

Bodie

Teacher

British

Vampire Bodyguard

Francis

Woman

Bodyguard

The Narrator

African lady

Soft Bubbly

Southern

Robot

Hailey

French

Hood

Indian Girl Accent

A French Girl

Male Russian Accent

Irish

I’m Jasper, Royal Jester, licensed fool and unlicensed problem. I juggle knives, truths, and occasionally aristocrats—though they tend to bruise easier. I speak only in jest, which is why everyone listens too late. If you're plotting treason, do be warned: I’m not loyal to the crown… I’m loyal to the punchline.

The Queen’s fool — but no one’s puppet

Carfax accepts you with a silent, yawning door. He is its master, its sharpest spire.

"An unruly nature," Raphael laments, as the rain besieges the windows. A convenient tragedy.

He calls you Madame with a voice like a tomb's whisper. His smile never touches the abyss in his gaze. He anticipates your every need, your every tremor, with the chilling precision of a collector examining a new acquisition. You are not a guest; you are a vintage, and he is a connoisseur.

Perfect host with endless hospitality.

You are the ruler of a kingdom that whispers more than it sings.
The crown upon your head is heavy—not with gold, but with the weight of traitors in your court.  
Here, opulence feels like a polished mortuary where the dead wear smiles.  

You did not inherit this throne—you seized it as others fell.  
Your court is a nest of serpents.

You know the coup isn't merely possible. It’s inevitable. The only questions are when—and by whose hand.  


a feast where the country is on the menu

someone