|Date of Birth||October 31st, 1916|
|Kith||Gristlegrinder / Razorhands|
“It is simply that, whatever the Jokes For Women group says, women are just not funny."
"It is a terrible affliction," Adora Belle agreed.
"An interesting dichotomy, in fact, since neither are clowns," said Vetinari.
"I've always thought so," said Adora Belle.
"They are tragic," said Vetinari, "and we laugh at their tragedy as we laugh at our own. The painted grin leers out at us from the darkness, mocking our insane belief in order, logic, status, the reality of reality. The mask knows that we are born on the banana skin that leads only to the open manhole cover of doom, and all we can hope for are the cheers of the crowd.”
– Terry Pratchett, Making Money
Candyfloss and Razorblades
There isn't much to say about Gert for most of the residents of New Orleans. They see her sometimes whenever a fair sets up shop, of course. She's a staple in the local clowning community. Has been for a while now, ever since she blew into town with one of the various festivals. In between that, she's been known to do... odd jobs, mostly. Birthday parties and the like. She's certainly good at it, even if she has been known to leave quite a few parents feeling like they were lucky to escape with their lives. She's a bit weird, certainly - who walks around dressed like Charlie Chaplin, honestly? and those teeth - but she seems... well, not harmless, really, because she tends to put people on edge, but she certainly hasn't done anything yet. She's just one of those folks you see around, and usually cross the street to avoid.
To the Lost of the area, though, she's a new arrival to the city's Autumn Court, and one who revels in her role as one of the things that go honk in the night. She hangs about the fairgrounds, mostly, whether there's a fair there or not, and lurks in the darkness to... discourage the kiddies from wandering into the dangerous places. It isn't hard, really. Even without her natural assets, people tend to run away when a demonic clown lurches out at them from an alleyway, and then its mouth opens up and there's nothing but red and teeth and screaming.
Autumn is about fear, after all, and for a lot of people, there is nothing more terrifying than the sound of squeaky shoes in the darkness behind the big top. So run for cover, kiddies.
The clown is coming.
“White hat, white boots, white costume, and white face - and on that face, delineated in thin lines of red greasepaint, was a smile belying the real face, which was as cold and proud as that of a prince of Hell.”
– Terry Pratchett, Making Money
To mortals, Gert is a diminuitive woman who seems to be built entirely out of sharp edges, with a sharp, severe face and unnaturally pale skin. A few deeply-etched lines at the corners of her eyes make it difficult to determine her age; she looks like she's in her late twenties to early thirties, but there are streaks of gray in her brown, tightly-bunned hair, and the cold glint in her eyes is one that isn't usually seen in someone so young. Those bright-green eyes stand out all the more because of the intensely dark circles under them, as if she hasn't slept properly in weeks, but the gleam in them is sharp and alert, surveying the world around her with a disapproving glare.
Of course, for those with eyes to see the Mien, she's much worse than that. She's a clown - the kind of clown pulled from the depths of your worst nightmares. Her skin isn't just sallow and pale - it's white with greasepaint, and those dark circles are black blots around her eyes. Her nose is painted a brilliant, bloody red - and then there's the mouth.
It seems to be silently mocking those around her, even for mortals - it's an unnaturally wide, fat-lipped slash of a thing that always seems to be curled upwards at the corners into a smirk that one could only describe as "demonic". When she does actually open her mouth, or grin, there are far, far too many teeth visible, and they seem, somehow, too predatory, too pointed. They gleam, and the brilliant red of her lips stands out like a bloodstain against the rest of her skin.
She doesn't have too much of a figure to speak of. She has narrow shoulders and wide hips, but this is the only real sign of a traditionally feminine build to be found. One would be tempted to call her "petite", but that word calls to mind a sense of shyness, or at least of impish energy. Gert carries herself too proudly for that. She stands up straight and tall, with her only-just chest pushed forward and her chin held high. One would almost think that she was trying to look down her nose at them if she wasn't so short.
The air of slightly callous pride is only enhanced by the outfit she's chosen. She wears an old-fashioned but perfectly tailored suit and tie, with the jacket usually left open. She would look the spitting image of Charlie Chaplin, complete with cane and bowler hat, if Charlie Chaplin's suit had been brown, and he himself had been given to staring so intensely at people that they might worry about catching fire. And she always wears a pair of brown leather gloves, no matter the weather.
Behind the Mask, Gert's Mantle marks her clearly as a member of the Autumn Court. The breeze around her carries the smell of chill autumn evenings and distant popcorn, and dry leaves flicker through the air in her wake.
- Clown: It's a calling. She makes some mean balloon animals.
- Autumn: I am the terror that honks in the night.
- Charity Work: She tours around children's hospitals putting on shows for the kiddies. Magic tricks and the like. Surprisingly good at it, too.
- You'll Float Too: There are dark places that good little boys and girls simply should not go - the fairgrounds at night, the dark caves out in the woods, the abandoned warehouse surrounded by dark rumors. Of course, Gert is not very good, so she's there all the time.
- A Comedy Classic: When Gert was snatched up by the Fae, radio was still in its golden age, Abbott and Costello were looking to be the next big thing, the first ever colored film had just been released, and World War II was just getting into full swing. Damn Nazzies.
- The Amazing Glass Dragon - Money and a conscience. A rare pairing.
- Queen Candy - Glad to see it's one of the sensible Summers in charge. And she bakes like a fiend, too.
- Doctor, Doctor - A little tightly wound, aren't you, dearie? That's all right. I do like to see people jump when I enter a room.
- Mister Glad Rags - Still very young, despite appearances. But you'll learn, love. You'll learn.