...I 

You're walking to work at your new café and you look around the area of the new town you've just moved to and your eyes snap across Pierrot, he's been pushed to the ground and his circus leaflets are scattered around him and he's got a slight cut on his face and there's a man who is yelling, cursing and accusing. He said he was himself. And you've heard about the missing people who are going out here to live, and you're not sure if that's true, but you don't care much, and now and now are you going to help them?

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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