THE MOONDREAMER.

The night sky erupted into beautiful stars that overwhelmed the canvas of navy and plum, the brilliant moon just the cherry on top.

Nights like these when the weather was clear enough that no clouds interrupted the view were Eve’s favorite. The performers would gather around a cozy campfire and sing songs of their far and wide journeys — or just get absolutely shit faced wasted, which added to the merriment around them. Life was pleasant on the road when the traveling circus had the least responsibilities of the working classes, as they ventured forth for not just coin — but freedom, family, and happiness.

“Say, whaddaya think you would be doin’ if not performin’ here? You ever thought about what your alternate self would work as if we weren’t carnies?”

The sheep hummed down at the tiefling, one leg crossed over the other as she worked on crafting a doll.

“Not sayin’ you should up and leave us, ‘cause I reckon that would be a poor choice both emotionally and financially. You’re the talk of the show and I’m kinda jealous that our fans are constantly bickerin’ for the oh so great Ice Spinner.”

She gives a playful roll of the eyes and a dismissive wave of her hand — though there was definitely a lick of genuine jealousy.

“Seriously? A pirate?”

A scoff, blowing raspberries as she absentmindedly plays with his hair,

“No way. You’re so strict with your fashion. You’re tellin’ me you’d go out on the messiest adventure with a big ol’ ship of seawater and fates knows what kinda greasy monsters lurk under the depths to squirt ink and muck and whatnot and be totally fine with comin’ out drenched in all that nasty stuff? Gross.”

With the attention on her however, her ears begin to pin back.

“Me? Uhh…iunno. I don’t like to think of bein’ away from the carnival. I ran away from wealth just to live here and I certainly can’t go back now that I’m part of the ‘low class peanut gallery’ as mama calls it…so I guess I’d just be homeless and sad.”

A beat, disassociation in her eyes.

“…BUT, that ain’t gonna ever happen, so it’s fine! The carnival is gonna live on for ages and ages and get SO many people and coin that we gotta book out a whole CASTLE every town to stop at! Exandrian famous!

And you’d never have to pay for your booze agaaaain ~ .”

Mimicking the action, Eve places her opposite hand on her opposite hip and playfully shifts her weight to the opposing side,

“All sorts of thangs! Magic is everywhere and I do my best to hone it for entertainment! Whatever my lovely starlight and moonlights prefer — their smiles are my fuel!”

The sheep dramatically twirls her hand, whisks of small, golden stars bouncing upon her digits.

“When my carnival was still up and runnin’, I was mainly the storyteller ‘cause I was a pretty big loudmouth. Oh, my audience could hear me from across the trail, I tell ya! I’m also pretty decent at exaggeration and audience engagement and — well, this ain’t an interview.”

She then closes her hand as if slamming shut a book, the stars poofing out of existence.

“What about YOU, honeybun? You say you run a carnival!

Can you do magic? Are you a sword swallower — NO, wait. Wait. Juggling? Mm, you look like you’re a clown too, so maybeeee…gags and tricks for the kiddies? Can you show me?!”

"Oh wow! A story teller for a carnival sounds amazing!" If his eyes were showing, they'd be sparkling at her display of magic.

Quinn hummed and thumbed his chin for a moment, as if mulling something over in his head.

"Oh! I can do ALL kinds of things! I'm more than meets the eye~," he grinned as his finger tips splayed across his lips.

His hand motions and sparkly glitter followed his hand movements.

"I can do many things, but my main get up is~!" He suddenly turned and started to skip along in a straight line. Suddenly he started clapping his hands in a rhythm. Large light up letters started to fall from the very sky. Falling down behind him as he left a trail of stars and glitter. M-A-G-I-C fell and he halted at the end. Sticking a hand out to lean on the top of the line of the C that was the last to fall.

"Magic! But it's quite authentic! I am the god of creation, and for a side hobby I run the Carnival of Dreams~! Making people smile is what I love to do~!"

Eve’s eyes instantly light up in childish wonder as Quinn showcases his magic, sparkles practically glimmering in pumpkin irises. She then applauds, the bells on her person jingling rapidly like Noel’s chorus,

“Oh…my…FATES, YOU ARE AMAZING!! HOW DID YOU DO THAT?! THAT’S SO COOL!!

Are you actually the God of Creation, am I literally in the presence of an avatar right now — DO YOU HAVE YOUR OWN FOLLOWING? A CULT?! Would your cult be called The Dreamers then — WAIT, THAT SOUNDS SO WHIMSICAL, I WANNA BE A DREAMER!”

She then sharply gasps, pressing her palms to her agape mouth before prancing in place, barely able to contain her excitement.

“MY PERFORMER NAME IS THE MOONDREAMER!! THIS ALL MAKES SENSE NOW, HOW COULD I BE SO DAFT!”

Eve rushes to take his hands, still bouncing giddily on jangling hooves,

“THE FATES BROUGHT ME TO YOU AND YOUR CARNIVAL! I promise I’ll be SUCH a good follower, you won’t have to worry about a thang. I swear it!”

“Yeaaaah, buuuuut…think about the PIZAZZ of performances!”

Shitty lil’ jazz hands,

“Ya colors are already pretty to look at, but if you REALLY wanna grab the folks’ attention, sprinkle just a teensy amount of glitter on the main limbs!

Wait. What do you do again at the circus—“

She deflates a tad at that, but continues to prod nonetheless,

“Well that’s boring.

Don’t you ever get bored of…iunno, being a maid? Janitor? Choremaster, whatever ya wanna deem yourself as?

I can teach you a few tricks if you want to pass the time!”

"You're a performer? No way! I am too~! Well, sorta! I run a carnival. Right now I don't have it set up though. Sorta need a big lot for it and I'm just chilling out, as the kids say these days!" Quinn placed a hand on his hip and shifted his weight to the side.

Mimicking the action, Eve places her opposite hand on her opposite hip and playfully shifts her weight to the opposing side,

“All sorts of thangs! Magic is everywhere and I do my best to hone it for entertainment! Whatever my lovely starlight and moonlights prefer — their smiles are my fuel!”

The sheep dramatically twirls her hand, whisks of small, golden stars bouncing upon her digits.

“When my carnival was still up and runnin’, I was mainly the storyteller ‘cause I was a pretty big loudmouth. Oh, my audience could hear me from across the trail, I tell ya! I’m also pretty decent at exaggeration and audience engagement and — well, this ain’t an interview.”

She then closes her hand as if slamming shut a book, the stars poofing out of existence.

“What about YOU, honeybun? You say you run a carnival!

Can you do magic? Are you a sword swallower — NO, wait. Wait. Juggling? Mm, you look like you’re a clown too, so maybeeee…gags and tricks for the kiddies? Can you show me?!”