InsaneJournal

So Be I Gagged or Bound, Lobotomized, Sedated
Who: L Lawliet and OPEN
What: Someone gets to be a carnie today. Being a carnie sucks.
When: Noon to evening, Day 2
Where: Fortune-Teller's Booth along the Boardwalk
Rating: PG-13, just in case someone gets shot?
Status: Incomplete



There were things in life that L had never, ever thought he'd have to do. Working as a fortuneteller was definitely one of them. Now, dressed in a loose white linen shirt, baggy brown trousers and a bright, colorful open poet's vest in burgundy reds and harvest yellows, he was standing behind a carnival counter with the overhead banner Madame Romani and Son. Around his ankle was a shackle and a chain connected to a nearby wagon, where an old Gypsy woman sat with a rifle in her lap.

"I'm not supposed to be here, you know..." L started, after glancing at the crystal ball in front of him.

"Not belong here? Pah!" Spat Madame Romani. "Third eye run een family! What, you theenk you run away?" She gave a hearty laugh, taking a pinch of chewing tobacco and stuffing it on the inside of her leathery cheek. "Gypsy family. We steeck together, through best of times, through worst of times, eh? My son may not leave hees mother after she birthed heem, blessed heem with third eye."

"No, I don't have a third eye. I'm not Romani. I'm don't even believe in psychic abilities," L maintained calmly. "I'm definitely not your son..."

Following this claim was a string of curses and angry shouting in Romani that sort of stunned L into silence. He understood the language, but rather wished he didn't, today. Because today, whether he liked it or not, he was stuck as a fortune teller with a third eye and a harridan for a mother.



[[OOC: Threadjack, people. Feel free to start your own thread and have one-on-one interactions with L, just say the time of day you're tagging in in the subject line. He'll tell your fortune, he guesses. XD COME ON YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO HAVE A CYNICAL DETECTIVE TELL YOUR FORTUNE.]]