[ooc: I'll be sure to use appropriate icons from here out, to try to better avoid confusion. Whoops! XD]
"Erry'one's a friend to a carnie, boy-o." The roustie grinned, swirling an index finger through his impressive mustache. Delia-the-roustie watched as Duncan's posture shifted. She followed suit with impeccable accuracy. The Scotsman was trying to figure out if he'd forgotten the roustabout's face and they had, in fact, met before. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head. The old man's dark eyes twinkled. Delia almost felt badly for toying with a compatriot from the Isles. Almost.
"I reckon you're not the only one who sees things here that ... just ain't here. Special lad, ey?" She hadn't spoken with an accent in ages, and this man's tongue wasn't used to forming the appropriate sounds. It was clunky, at best. Well, enough of that, then.
Delia searched the passing crowd for an appealing face to inspire her. She spotted a young tourist she'd doubled earlier that night fishing for coins in her purse at a concession stand a few yards away. Why not, easy enough. The roustabout seemed to ripple in the air, as though he'd been a mirage all along. When the effect cleared, in his place stood a perfect double of the tourist across the way. A passing group of children clinging to the back of their mother's t-shirt saw, and shrieked in delight. Delia's new face brightened. "Amazing, isn't it? Such marvels, such fancy tricks!" she cooed at them. A little girl clapped. "Have you seen the Gingerbread house? It's at the back. Go look, before the magic moves it somewhere else!" Her voice was playful; clearly, this was all an elaborate game of stage craft.
Delia turned her new eyes to Duncan, then winked. "So. Tell me what you're looking for? I'm feeling helpful."