Laughter Is The Best Medicine {Shrine Prompt}

They always say that laughter in the best medicine. I suppose they mean harmless jokes and fun, not vindictive pranks made to humiliate the victim. Trying to explain the difference to Xavier, though...well, you'd have better luck knocking more sense into a cantaloupe.

Fortune was always happy to dish out the rewards in exchange for some pretty heavy favours. In his crazed desperation for corruption, however, any price was worth it. Him and Fortune were good friends by now and they both used one another for their own gains - it was a mutual understanding that X was more than willing to participate in.

So much had gone on throughout Ivras, it was hard to find the time for his tasks. The monsters, the celebrations, the cold cold winter. Finally, things were beginning to settle but it wouldn't stay like this for long. Farmers were busy tending to their crops and flocks and the villagers were gearing up for the Feast of Flowering. X had to strike whilst the lull was still around. Too many eyes would raise too many questions and he preferred to go unnoticed the best he could. Armed with a very simple, cheap, black cloak to hide his grotesque features and shiny red armour, he snuck into one of the many smatterings of villages all over Ivras. Names of places or people didn't matter. They were all the same little hovels to X. He had a plan and, inside his funny head, it was a good one. He was already chuckling to himself which raised a few eyebrows from passers by. With everyone out in the fields, hard at work, that left the streets fairly clear and the homes either side sitting empty. This village was the sort of place where everybody knew everybody so they left their doors unlocked and their valuables unguarded. Xavier wasn't interested in robbing them, though. He had no use for a poor man's simplicities. Instead, he snuck into one of the houses and up to the second story. He open a window that overlooked the street and noticed the opposite house had the same window facing. They were all built the same with the same layouts so it made it easy to formulate his plan. From window to window, he threaded across a long, thick pole similar to a barge pole that he had found down by the fishing docks. Perhaps it was a barge pole but X didn't really know what a barge was or why one required such a long stick. With it now suspended over the street, balancing on the rotting window ledge each side, he began to thread three, large tubs of paint. They were all different colours but Xavier had just stolen them at random from different places he had passed. Honestly, he was improvising most of this as he went along but the premise he had was still the same. If it hadn't been paint, he would have found something else.

As you can assume by now, his plan was to drop this on the head of whichever unsuspecting soul passed by first. With much work to be done, X had a long wait on his hands. It was nearing dusk by the time he heard voices in the street below. Weary workers on their way home from a hard day under the spring sun which was already proving to be warmer than usual at this time of year. They were caked in sweat and dust, their heads drooped with tiredness. All they wanted to do was clean up, eat and get some well-needed rest. The sight of them made X giggle hard. He readied himself by the pole, ducking just low enough under the window so that he wouldn't be seen. 3...2...1...he pushed the pole off the ledge with an almighty shove. It slipped off the ledge, tumbling downwards. The other end of the pole flicked upwards, smashing the neighbouring window. The paint pots fell, flipping sideways. Xavier jumped up to watch as it all unfolded. The pole hit them first, bonking one on the head. Then the paint splattered everywhere, coating them in an array of colour as well as the streets and nearby walls. Last, came a rainfall of glass from the smashed window. This caused a chaotic screech of people yelling and scrambling out of the way. Some were lucky and managed to avoid the cascade of tiny daggers, others were hit, their skin ripped to shreds by the sharp shards. Below, in the streets, he had caused madness. X collapsed on the floor, laughing so hard that his sides began to hurt.

Once his brain began to quieten, he realised he needed to escape. This would be a bad thing to be caught for and he couldn't face another trial as a public menace. There were some who would bray for his blood this time. For this simple dwelling, there was only one door but, in the kitchen, there was a window. X was skinny enough just to squeeze through it and he took off across the fields, laughing all the way. Oh what a joy that had been. Fortune will treat him well for that.