The night of the full moon is unusually warm after the recent winter weather, and those who follow the sound of music floating through the woods, the path lined by fairy lights, will find that it only grows warmer the further they go. By the time they reach the Carnival, there's no snow on the ground at all - only lush, newly-grown grass and
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After all, they're such delightful little performers. Be careful not to catch their eye, however.
You might become part of the performance.
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So it's with his usual cheeky grin that James wanders over to check out the somewhat sketchy midget musical revue. Arching an eyebrow at the stage, he checks out the audience - mostly unfamiliar and looking like they've entirely smoked an entire field of Gillyweed with the vapidness, except for the little bloke at the front.
"Wotcher there," he says as he walks up to watch with. Eyes on the stage, he cocks his head and purses his lips. "Anything about this ring as fantastically creepy to you, or is that just me?"
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"I do not know if creepy is the right word. They have real talent, I think. My choirmaster would have been glad to hear them. But... it does feel like something is different. Like something is not quite right."
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....That's not sarcasm. They really are pretty harmless.
...This time.
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She paces down the midway slowly, wings out and tense against her back, one hand in her jacket pocket where she can keep a grip on her knife. Like that's going to help much if she runs into hostile fae, but there's really no such thing as being safe in the shadow world anyway, only degrees of imaginary security. The knife is vaguely reassuring, and that's the best she's going to get now.
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Though the wings were new.
Now, Danny had never been the most observant kid out there, but he was fairly certain that he would have remembered if that girl had had wings when they'd first arrived.
"Nice accessories. Lose a fight with a feather bed?"
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"I'd be careful who you say that sort of thing to around here. Keep it up and you're going to insult a fairy - the worst I'll do is punch you, but they've got a lot less restraint and a lot more creativity than me."
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Just remember you're playing for luck and if you play to lose, things can get very ugly, very fast.
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He hopes, anyway.
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And yet she still brushes past Neal when she sees him, a cloaked woman with a distinctive, alluring perfume that beckons him to draw closer and follow her to a back room. Caffrey, Caffrey, Caffrey- what a puzzle, what an absolute delight. Not even her desires to stay undercover can stand up to someone actually seeking her out.
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"...Kitsune, I presume."
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Just stay away from the house specials. No matter what the smiling barmaid tells you, you don't want the White Lotus or a shot of Eros or any of the other token drinks. They'll only bring you trouble.
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He shudders, hunching over the bar and the glass just a bit. Much as he might fake it, he doesn't do drunkenness. That kind of lack of control isn't appealing and never has been. But sometimes, he really wishes he could let his guard down far enough to get well and truly smashed.
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Right now ... he's drinking because he's tempted to go and find Kitsune, and he knows that's a bad idea. Tipping the status quo in any direction is never a good idea, and for right now, he's at a pretty safe place. Finding Kitsune was only going to make things worse for him, and for right now, he is leaving things as they are.
He glances down at the bar, and seeing Neal there can't help but raise an eyebrow. "Aren't you and the g-man usually joined at the hip?" Well ... maybe not joined at the hip, but close enough that Peter gets major worry lines over Neal's well-being.
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She climbed up on the merry-go-round, sitting on a bench and gazing at the intricate details on the carousel animals. She leaned against the side of the bench, lost in thought.
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"I've never seen anything like them."
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