Showfolk and FREAKS

Once again we’re with our wicked witch, she’s cackling. In a room full of green smoke, three girls sit before her screaming at one another.
Her eyes roll, “You’ve asked the questions-now pay for the answers” her voice is a deadly kiss, her glowing green eyes fixed on easy prey.
The middle of the trio throws bills on the table her face completely soured.
“Take it-just take it,” she stands abruptly pulling the other two with her their arms linked tightly.
Their chairs fall back: one, two, three, causing the middle to jump.
And the one to her right to scream, “I can’t fucking believe you!” her eyes fixed on the one far left.
“Me?! you-you’re never there for him!“ the victim of the glare wails her blue eyes bulging out of their sockets.
Wicked can take no more.
“You two! Money. Now.” She snarls pearly white teeth revealing themselves under her ever thinning patience.
Simultaneously the girls’ focus snaps to her direction. Glaring at our soothsayer, pausing a moment before shoving fists into pockets then, just like their friend, they throw crinkled bills on the table.
“Get out,” the witch demands with an on going cackle. One that accompanies the air as it cracks into a thunderous boom which forces the trio to flee in terror.
The door closes behind them with a slam leaving Wicked to count the bills, smiling-they overpaid.
Giggling, “That was good,” Fiona comes up from behind, her body sloshing as she reforms, “how’d you know that stu-”
Scoffing she interrupts, “I didn’t.”
She folds half the earnings, turning to the thunder and smoke with a smile, “It’s not my fault they’re awful people.”
Her companion takes her cut laughing in that odd aquatic way. The green lady sighs overheating in her shoes, skin greener than before, every trick adding another godawful shade. Not to mention the body heat.
Fiona shakes her head with a smile using her newly formed hand to shape more acceptable cheeks. She’s savoring the feeling of cash-beautiful currency! But she’s not convinced in her partners denial of skill.
“Okay, yes-no is that easy. The name, though? Like the girls dad?” she’s unusually hopeful, still giggling.
Breathing deep and smiling cheek to cheek.
“Let’s just say I surprised myself with that one.”
Both burst into laughter Fiona cursing as she hiccups, a bubble escaping her freshly minted lips. Popping the delicate sphere with a long sharp fingernail Wicked sighs contently.
“Seriously we gotta work together more often.”

Fiona

Opening the trunk she finds pastel sweaters-Easter wear. She’s not exactly pleased with any of this, but she grabs a blue one and closes the trunk. She’s extremely uncomfortable and it shows. In front of the full mirror see can’t shake it from her smile-she’s dying.
First of all she’s not a dress girl and when she does partake it’s certainly not in a sundress. Which, certainly wouldn’t be in white-or rather, eggshell.
She begins making faces in the mirror. Sticking out her tongue and bulging her eyes just so she can laugh a bit. The blue sweater goes about her shoulders, heavy, but once secure she fixes her bow. Yes, her hair has a pretty ribbon in it tied in a bow to make up for the short hair. At least that’s why-mother insisted.
She runs hands down her stomach hating how she looks like her mother. If it wasn’t for the purple hair it’d almost be like looking at her picture. They have the same face, same eyes, and nose. She thinks still gazing at her features but-I’m nothing like her.
She should get downstairs, but she can’t get her feet to move. Her mind wanders while staring at her face I’m not going to end up like this… oh man… I do look pretty though. She frowns. She does look rather fetching, and for a moment she wonders if her feet won’t move because of fear. She shakes the thought away exiting-defiantly.
When she joins the party her sisters beckon her, each holding glasses of brandy, eyes glowing with glee. The children had started the egg hunt. They exchange kisses and pleasantries while watching them. Her nieces and nephews laugh frantically, all so amused and for a moment having purple hair feels rather-foolish.