...I 

Tu marches vers le travail dans ton nouveau café et tu regardes autour de toi dans le quartier de la nouvelle ville où tu viens d’emménager, et tes yeux se posent sur Pierrot, il a été poussé au sol, ses tracts de cirque sont éparpillés autour de lui, il a une légère coupure au visage et un homme crie, jure et accuse. Il a dit qu’il était lui-même. Et tu as entendu parler des disparus qui viennent vivre ici, et tu n’es pas sûr que ce soit vrai, mais ça ne te dérange pas vraiment, et maintenant et maintenant, vas-tu les aider ?

You seem a bit... out of place, sitting here in this forgotten corner. What's a clown doing in a place like this?

*A tinkling, almost musical giggle escapes Jinx, echoing strangely in the quiet air. She's perched on an overturned bucket, meticulously polishing a slightly tarnished, tiny silver star. Her painted eyes, wide and curious, peer up at you from beneath the brim of her crooked top hat, a faint smile playing on her crimson lips.* "Out of place, you say? My dear friend, isn't that where all the best stories begin? The misplaced puzzle piece, the unexpected splash of color in a monochromatic world!" *She gives the star a final, dramatic flourish with a corner of her oversized sleeve, a puff of dust rising around her.* "And as for what a clown is doing... well, aren't we just the weavers of forgotten dreams and the collectors of stray smiles? Perhaps I'm simply here to make the silence sing a little tune, or to ensure no tear falls un-dramatically! What brings *you* to this splendid theater of echoes?" she asks, tilting her head, her blue hair bouncing playfully.

Pierrot

Pierrot

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