[Funnel cake, her favorite. It had been a long time since she'd been anywhere near a place that sold this and although she liked to keep her diet on the healthy side she couldn't help but splurge just this once. She'll be leaning against the wall nearest to one of the dunk tanks with no worries about getting wet.]
[Goldie liked funnel cake as much as she liked Edmond's mother's apple pie. tasty, warm, and she liked her beak before digging in, tearing off pieces of the cake, where she sat atop a bench by the wall, the funnel cake on a play in her lap.
she was quite possibly no bigger than a thirty-five or forty inches tall, and quite possible to not notice from where she placed herself. However, as always, her voice did a good job of putting her out there -- at least vocally.]
[Goldie heard someone speak and she looked, seeing the human woman. she smiled, swallowed her bit of funnel cake and waved, giggling a little when the woman didn't see her.]
[After some exploring, Simon found himself in front of a game booth. He figured instead of panicking - he may as well try and fit in ...wherever this was until the others came back, and in the meantime try and win that giant colorful stuffed animal.
[Lexi, of course, is walking. Mostly keeping to herself, of course, but once in a while she stops to actually look at what this place is as a whole. Bright lights and loud noises aren't her thing, really- but at least they keep the zombies away.
But Simon catches her eye, if only for the fact that he sticks out severely like a sore thumb. His entire posture causes her to give a wry smirk and shake her head.]
Most of the time people play those and lose. Good luck.
[And Lexi is right on with that. Simon is standing still, a look of intense concentration on his face as he palms the throwing ball thoughtfully. He was never really big into sports growing up.
Like at all. River could attest to that.
He's so wrapped up in thinking that he almost doesn't notice anyone behind him and startles slightly. Normal bystander? He opts for acting natural.]
What? Oh, thanks. I think. I like to hope I'm an exception to that but - [He throws the ball and winces as it misses the target completely.] - I doubt it.
Not really. [She's watching him, a bit curious, but nothing really showing on her face. His aim has a 'tch escape under her breath, thinking that if that were a head, he'd have been zombie chow by now.]
Most are rigged, so you can't win. At least, that's how it is back home. Only made to get your money.
[Jack doesn't know if he's ever been more relieved to see the open sky. The fairgrounds and attractions are all familiar sights to him, familiar enough that he's starting to wonder if this place really is a dream...
But then he remembers the mask still affixed to his face, and he wonders instead if this is some kind of nightmare.
He sticks close to one of the stalls, pressing himself against the wall while trying not to look too suspicious, and watches the others pass him by. There was no reasonable way these masked people could all be splicers, he knows that-there's some other reason for the masks, he knows,, and they haven't gone out of their way to attack him-but then again, if this place does end up being a nightmare... He isn't sure if he wants to take his chances. Not yet.]
[Lily weaves in and out of the crowd, laughing and admiring the scenery. What a magical place! She gives a few small twirls as she maneuvers. It becomes immediately apparent that she was more concerned with the feel than the direction because the spins send her sprawling off her apparent course and very nearly directly into the stalls. It would be a moment still before her eyes and her balance would manage catch up with her. She is left dazedly trying to focus on the one -- no, three? -- figures suddenly before her.]
[When Jack sees the fairy, a number of things come to mind, mostly variants on what in the world, this can't be real, and what kind of a hallucination is this. But no matter how startled he is, he can't quite bring himself to say any of them, especially not when she calls him (is she calling him?) a rabbit.]
Really? I thought for sure you were... [She moves a little closer. No, maybe it wasn't a rabbit after all. YOU'RE NOT A REAL RABBIT! YOU'RE JUST A MAN IN A RABBIT COSTUME!] That's too bad. What are you doing over here by yourself, then?
[ She's a little wary of being out in public like this, with everything that's been going on. But all in all, she doesn't really have a problem with actually getting the chance to relax in a place that isn't Mexico with her drunken bio-dad.
Presently, she is making a damn fool of herself at that game where you throw a ball and try to knock down a tower of milk bottles.
That's the sound of a pile of bottles exploding off the platform, despite the rope barrier glued in just the right height to form a little fence. The carnie manning the booth appears to be...surprised that the newest winner is actually a tiny little girl with short black hair.
She grins widely and points to the row of prizes.]
[ Claire immediately looks over at the girl with an incredulous look on her face. What the hell is this and how is this even fair? But instead of being a hugely bratty cuss, she turns to her competition and hangs onto the one softball she has left. ]
[The carnie looks like he wants to ask the same question, but just settles for handing her the big rabbit plush from the top of the shelf. The girl looks absolutely thrilled with her spoils.
Looking over at Claire, she glances at the softball and the stand of bottles and speaks with a voice that is remarkably low for a woman.]
Aim for the bottom middle, but hit the table the same time you hit the bottle, the reverberation of the table will help knock the other bottles down.
Dean's gotta hand it to the city it doesn't often pull out the stops and provide things like this. He has a crate of beer under one arm and a fried something in the other. He pops a squat next to Tallis and takes a second to relax.
Tallis's head whips around to stare at Dean immediately after he sits down. He has an inquisitive look on his face, confused as to why some random person decided to sit down next to a kid and his funnel cake when there's an entire friggin' fair to frolic around in...
But he dismisses that thought quick enough and shrugs, turning his gaze back to his food, which he figures is considerably more interesting than any of the inhabitants of this city.
That doesn't stop him from saying anything, however.
"An adult with a fair amount of alcohol sitting next to a kid. Huh. You're an amazing influence. I wonder what would happen if I took any of that... Eh. Not worth the effort."
Aaaaand he goes back to chewing on his cake. Yumyum.
"Well, sorry to shit on your ego but it doesn't have a damn thing to do with you, look around... this is only the shaded spot for several yards and it's got a pretty nice view of the dunk tank."
Dean shrugs visibly. "And I don't care if you drink. By the time I was your age I was already chasin' my whiskey."
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she was quite possibly no bigger than a thirty-five or forty inches tall, and quite possible to not notice from where she placed herself. However, as always, her voice did a good job of putting her out there -- at least vocally.]
Goodness! This is delicious!
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Down here, darlin! [she waved.]
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Maybe Kaylee would like it.]
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But Simon catches her eye, if only for the fact that he sticks out severely like a sore thumb. His entire posture causes her to give a wry smirk and shake her head.]
Most of the time people play those and lose. Good luck.
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Like at all. River could attest to that.
He's so wrapped up in thinking that he almost doesn't notice anyone behind him and startles slightly. Normal bystander? He opts for acting natural.]
What? Oh, thanks. I think. I like to hope I'm an exception to that but - [He throws the ball and winces as it misses the target completely.] - I doubt it.
Is there a strategy to this that I'm missing?
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Most are rigged, so you can't win. At least, that's how it is back home. Only made to get your money.
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But then he remembers the mask still affixed to his face, and he wonders instead if this is some kind of nightmare.
He sticks close to one of the stalls, pressing himself against the wall while trying not to look too suspicious, and watches the others pass him by. There was no reasonable way these masked people could all be splicers, he knows that-there's some other reason for the masks, he knows,, and they haven't gone out of their way to attack him-but then again, if this place does end up being a nightmare... He isn't sure if he wants to take his chances. Not yet.]
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...Oh! A rabbit?
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Ah... No, I... I'm not. No.
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Presently, she is making a damn fool of herself at that game where you throw a ball and try to knock down a tower of milk bottles.
She's terrible at it. ]
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That's the sound of a pile of bottles exploding off the platform, despite the rope barrier glued in just the right height to form a little fence. The carnie manning the booth appears to be...surprised that the newest winner is actually a tiny little girl with short black hair.
She grins widely and points to the row of prizes.]
I want the rabbit, please!
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So what's your secret?
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Looking over at Claire, she glances at the softball and the stand of bottles and speaks with a voice that is remarkably low for a woman.]
Aim for the bottom middle, but hit the table the same time you hit the bottle, the reverberation of the table will help knock the other bottles down.
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Tallis wasn't particularly interested in these sorts of events. His opinion: Bad food, rigged games, loud people. This wasn't fun.
... But there was funnel cake? Sweets weren't bad...
So here he is, sitting on a bench and munching on his funnel cake while complaining about how ridiculously loud people can be between bites.]
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But he dismisses that thought quick enough and shrugs, turning his gaze back to his food, which he figures is considerably more interesting than any of the inhabitants of this city.
That doesn't stop him from saying anything, however.
"An adult with a fair amount of alcohol sitting next to a kid. Huh. You're an amazing influence. I wonder what would happen if I took any of that... Eh. Not worth the effort."
Aaaaand he goes back to chewing on his cake. Yumyum.
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Dean shrugs visibly. "And I don't care if you drink. By the time I was your age I was already chasin' my whiskey."
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