[This is Saxsice's entire jam. Flowers are nice and all, and she enjoyed the speakeasy a few months back, but a carnival? A noisy, crowded, chaotic place full of fun, food and frivolity? Sign her up. She doesn't even bother investigating the temple, instead hitting up the fairway immediately and trying to do everything at once.
She's got half a corndog in one hand and a caramel apple in the other when she sees the "Test Your Strength" game. That's a challenge if she ever saw one, so she steps up eagerly, then frowns at her snacks for a moment. Finally she shoves them towards whoever's passing, complete stranger or not.]
Here, hold these. If I win, you owe me funnel cake. If I lose, I'll buy you somethin', deal?
ii. hall of mirrors
[This part of the circus is...a little less fun. Inside like this, in such close quarters, Saxsice can't rely on her nose to guide her out, and she keeps getting turned around and bumping into mirrors. She keeps up a long string of profanity as she does so, which probably makes her pretty easy to find. If she can just find the right way forward, and not keep hitting reflections --
-- except one of the reflections is...off. It's definitely her, but distinctly younger, by about a decade or so, barely more than a teenager. She's hunched over, arms locked over her chest, hair lank and loose around her face. The Saxsice in the reflection has none of the real one's swagger or confidence. Instead she's trembling, looking down at her feet, reaching up every so often to wipe at her eyes.
The real Saxsice freezes before the frightened, shivering reflection, an unreadable look on her face. After a long moment, she slowly reaches out a hand, resting it on the glass of the mirror, as if to comfort her younger, smaller self.]
iii. carousel
[Because the Hall of Mirrors wasn't enough of a peek into Saxsice's past, now she's hopping onto the nearest horse and clinging on with all her strength, letting the merry-go-round do what it does best. It spins her round and round and round until she can't even remember her own name.
...literally. The person who gets off the horse and wobbles away, dizzy and disoriented is...quite a bit different than the woman who'd gotten on. The girl, wide-eyed and scraggly-haired, with freckles and old healing scrapes all over her arms from running around in the woods, stares around for a long moment, trying to figure out where she is.
The crowd, the lights, the noise are all very overwhelming to the now-11-year-old, who staggers over to a crate and sits down heavily on it, still trying to look at everything at once. Her skinny chest is heaving for breath, and she looks halfway between terrified and enchanted.
After a beat, the girl mumbles to herself:] Momma's gonna kill me...
Saxsice King | OC | OTA
[This is Saxsice's entire jam. Flowers are nice and all, and she enjoyed the speakeasy a few months back, but a carnival? A noisy, crowded, chaotic place full of fun, food and frivolity? Sign her up. She doesn't even bother investigating the temple, instead hitting up the fairway immediately and trying to do everything at once.
She's got half a corndog in one hand and a caramel apple in the other when she sees the "Test Your Strength" game. That's a challenge if she ever saw one, so she steps up eagerly, then frowns at her snacks for a moment. Finally she shoves them towards whoever's passing, complete stranger or not.]
Here, hold these. If I win, you owe me funnel cake. If I lose, I'll buy you somethin', deal?
ii. hall of mirrors
[This part of the circus is...a little less fun. Inside like this, in such close quarters, Saxsice can't rely on her nose to guide her out, and she keeps getting turned around and bumping into mirrors. She keeps up a long string of profanity as she does so, which probably makes her pretty easy to find. If she can just find the right way forward, and not keep hitting reflections --
-- except one of the reflections is...off. It's definitely her, but distinctly younger, by about a decade or so, barely more than a teenager. She's hunched over, arms locked over her chest, hair lank and loose around her face. The Saxsice in the reflection has none of the real one's swagger or confidence. Instead she's trembling, looking down at her feet, reaching up every so often to wipe at her eyes.
The real Saxsice freezes before the frightened, shivering reflection, an unreadable look on her face. After a long moment, she slowly reaches out a hand, resting it on the glass of the mirror, as if to comfort her younger, smaller self.]
iii. carousel
[Because the Hall of Mirrors wasn't enough of a peek into Saxsice's past, now she's hopping onto the nearest horse and clinging on with all her strength, letting the merry-go-round do what it does best. It spins her round and round and round until she can't even remember her own name.
...literally. The person who gets off the horse and wobbles away, dizzy and disoriented is...quite a bit different than the woman who'd gotten on. The girl, wide-eyed and scraggly-haired, with freckles and old healing scrapes all over her arms from running around in the woods, stares around for a long moment, trying to figure out where she is.
The crowd, the lights, the noise are all very overwhelming to the now-11-year-old, who staggers over to a crate and sits down heavily on it, still trying to look at everything at once. Her skinny chest is heaving for breath, and she looks halfway between terrified and enchanted.
After a beat, the girl mumbles to herself:] Momma's gonna kill me...