Chapter Text
In a rusty old trailer sits a wooden woman.
Before her is a mirror, and in that mirror she sees a child’s toy, a doll, looking back at her. It’s frilly blue dress is accented by trimmed white lace, and it had a bright blue bow tied up neatly in its shining blonde hair. Its skin was painted in pale brownish hues, mocking the pattern of the oak sidetable just next to the woman herself, all except its pink-painted cheeks which looked rosy and sweet.
She barely really looked at the stranger’s face that looked oh-so uncannily familiar to her, reverting her eyes to the contents on the table hastily, noting a brush packed with blonde strands and an old glass of water. She picked up the cloudy glass and takes a sip, barely pressing its chipped rim to her wooden lips.
She chokes on the foul taste torturing her tongue, the town her trailer settled in for the next couple days severely lacking great cleanliness in their local water supply. Nonetheless, she let the lukewarm liquid slide down her throat before finally setting the now half-empty glass back onto the water-ringed surface.
The woman coughed into a handkerchief pulled from her pocket, she groaned as her lungs burned from the constant inhalation of the paint coating every inch of exposed skin on her body.
She stood shakily after a moment, looking at the doll in the mirror one more time before stepping out into the smog-choked air. She missed Nebraska, its clean country air and small hick towns, even if the shows often resulted in much less money. With an ever dragging weight in her chest and a pep in her step she ventured off towards the looming canvas tent casting a shadow over the surrounding land.
Her show started soon, Hepburn Heights on at that very moment, and she needed to get to the ‘backstage’ area of their massive yellow and red tent before then to get her props together. Along the way, she passed a few of the other circus acts resting up either before or after their performances and some disgruntled city folk who eye’d her with disdain for being such a- how did they always phrase it? She’d heard a multitude of different slurs and slanderous terms used towards the group, though time and time again it was settled that ‘looney circus freaks’ was definitely one of the most common. It wasn’t completely off, despite how much the term offended several of the other acts. After all, a large majority of the acts had come from a ward of some sort at one point, even the woman herself.
She hummed a soft tune, smiling cheerfully at The Feral Few as they waved at her from a spot on the concrete where they settled and ate lunch. Her favorite of the three, or maybe just her favorite person in general, gave her a rare smile of their own and she felt her heart go aloof as she kept on to her destination.
Monty greeted her as she pulled back the canvas curtain for backstage and entered a room full of enough oddities to make any other person gasp aloud. From the two mermaids practicing their act in a large tank on wheels, to the unreasonably bright attire of the two clowns, and even Monty himself- who of which was missing both of his legs from the knee down.
Attaching the several strands of rope to the harness under her clothes and some clips attached to her arms, she was finally all set. She pulled the second set of curtains leading into the tent apart just enough to peek out and spot one of the twins spinning midair, to the immense entertainment of the large crowd.
Those also participating in the next act- including the two clowns, the mime (who acted as her puppeteer in this particular act), and the identical twin magicians stood nearby as well. The group didn’t have to wait much longer either as they heard the ring mistress's voice ring out.
One verse, two verse, three verse, and then it was their cue to go. They each patted the head of the circus’s maine coons for good luck before rushing out one by one at the announcement of their names.
Show time.