burning brighter.

"Exactly." The whole thing leaned a little too far into predestination for her liking. Once lifted, Sherri immediately reached out for his hand, placing her opposite hand next to his, palm up, for comparison. "See anything? Cause all I'm seeing are lines." She drawled, before adjusting her hand slightly so one line on her hand seemingly matched up next to one on his. The temptation to gasp for dramatic effect was too great to ignore. "Shit. I think this means we're going to kill each other one day." She was absolutely saying the first thing that came to mind, but that felt just as probable as anything a professional at this might say to her, so she was rolling with it.

The mention of fleas caused her to whip her head towards her roommate. "Do not even speak that into existence." She couldn't even imagine, and refused to even attempt, banishing the thought of contracting such pests immediately. "I'd rather take the smog." Was she exaggerating? Perhaps, but she figured Gabi should be used to it by now. Sherri shifted her weight again, this time for movement, swaying slightly in her own net. "Laughing at the misery of others is a sign of depravity, you know. Wet-wipe offer notwithstanding." She tsked, ignoring the improbability of her own original suggestion. "Who the hell am I hammocking with?"

The thought of getting out to dance to the likes of a group called Soccer Mommy, if Sherri remembered the setlist correctly, had little appeal to her. But, she worried little about that outcome, eyeing the way her roommate was tangled with amusement. "Sure, let's dance! How about this: I'll follow your lead." She nodded her head slightly outwards, towards the general commotion. "After you."

"You sound like a therapist." Or what she thought one would sound like; she's never been. Nonetheless, she mulled over her words, staring around as the parachute surrounding them maintained it's shape. "I get the distinct impression that this," she waved a hand around the rainbow space, "would probably be 1000% more fun under the influence." She paused. "Though, probably not as memorable."

"That's true, but I could also not win a record, which would make this not at all relaxing or exciting, and squarely dumb." Sherri wasn't even really sure if she wanted a record. She just wanted to win, which was hard to do when she couldn't even tell where to aim. Eyes scanning across the various colored balloons for any sign or tell and coming up naught, Sherri let out a frustrated sigh. "Got any idea which one of these to hit?"

"It's not typically my thing." In fact, if the line for the giant parachutes wasn't so long, she probably wouldn't have ever came over to the palm readers. But it was, so she wandered, and here she was. "Hold up, you aunt listened? As in, actually left her fiancé on nothing more than the warnings of a someone reading the lines on her palm? That's like, totally fucked."

The snort that left her at the comparison was immediate, and she leaned into the dramatics as she stared at the other with wide eyes. "A facial? Oh no. Do you need some water? I think you've had too much to drink. Or it might be heat exhaustion; should we get you over to a rest zone?"

An intriguing scam, Sherri thought, but decidedly kept her mouth shut. If it wasn't offered freely here, she doubted she'd ever pay for the services elsewhere. "As much as I believe in fortune cookies." She grinned, glancing down at the other's palms. "I could probably give you as accurate of a reading as anyone in that tent."

"Really? Because I'm leaning totally dumb." Even as she said it, she understood his point exactly. Sherri typically considered face paint to be utterly childish. And yet, more and more people around her seemed to be sporting different colorful designs around the festival. It was childish, but also charming, and alluring enough to draw her to the booth. Still, she couldn't allow for anything more drastic then a simple dotting of colorful paint freckles for herself, just in case she hated it. "Do you want honesty or flattery?"

imaan did not go to music festivals often, and they certainly weren't a raver, but making rave sprouts, something they enjoyed doing for ren faires in the past was right up their alley. they're adorning theirs with a glitterly flower when the girl next to them blurts out...well, "I think to each their own, maybe. I think it falls somewhere in the middle for me but I'm also biding my time until my favorite artists come on, so," a shrug, "are you being forced to do this or is this more of a free will thing with nothing else to do, thing?"

"The latter." Sherri mused, eyeing the basic green leaf stem she'd chosen for her own sprout. She admittedly didn't know many of the lower artists on the rosters, and while she was game to become a fan from observing their shows, she also wanted to make sure she got her money's worth by checking out the amenities. The curiosity of this tent caught her interest more than anything else. "I think I'm a bit lost on what the hell this is even supposed to mean." She admitted, sliding the clip of her sprout into her hair before fully turning over to the other. "Like, tell me I don't look like an extra from the Lorax right now."

"I was sort of pushed into this line and dragged here by my friend, I think after this palm reading I'm going home." Lakey sighed. "Will probably just ask a basic question about my love life and get a general vague answer and I'll just move on."

"Go home?!" Her frugality temporarily trumped her skepticism at the comment. Did she think palm reading was dumb? Yes, of course. Did she think leaving a music festival before the headliners even probably arrived was dumber? Absolutely. "You do know it's only like, 2, right?"

Sherri couldn't help but smirk at the other's description. "That's a positive spin on it." She tended to sway negative - it was one of her known flaws. "With that kind of attitude, I predict your palm is probably going to say you have a long life ahead of you and that you'll find the love of your life, when you're least expecting it, sometime in the next... 5 to 10 years."

Kalia was waiting in line to get her palm read when the voice of the other made her turn around. "Can't be too dumb if you're in line for it. Right?" The blonde attempted to make sense of it. "I think it'll be very telling. Then again, not everyone believes in palmistry." She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Touché." Sherri admitted, though she was tempted to argue she was only in line because it was the shortest one she saw near the Aura stage. Still, she could only blink at the term palmistry used so unironically. "What exactly do you think it'll reveal?"