[Jude wandered in boy's own wake, amused by topsy-turvy circumstance of events. Oliver's intent was to show him soft underside of the town, that tiny temple and ode to art wasn't sole cause and magnet for Oliver King but wider net drawn and dragged across town. That was better, but Jude had lost the worry about upping sticks and taking himself out of town somewhere along the way and what lay within was more muted, thanks. It was changeable, a coat of many colors and with magnitude of places that Oliver claimed as own (even the bookstore, which was Jude's sanctum of sanctums, but split-shared with brother happily and all the same) the ratcheted assumption that the art store was necessary loosened. But oh, Jude was turning different sense-set over and over in mind, like a penny across the back of his knuckles and he let the carnival swallow senses whole in bright-bitter light.
Misha was carnival and that surprised Jude not remotely. They were flotsam and Misha was jetsam and it made perfect partnering to go along together. Carnivals were made for people who didn't slot neatly into the neighborhood and neither Jude nor Oli were upstanding citizen. He let himself be tugged along to tent most appropriate with occupant Oli claimed as solo acquisition and wandered willingly wherever the long paint-stained fingers tugged.]