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The Park, Most of Sunday

Had the carnival changed? Retreated? No, but perhaps it had filled up even worse over the past twenty-four hours or so.

The look on that mustached man's face certainly exuded a certain amount of triumph as the lights went on again early on Sunday morning. He stabbed the ground with his cane and watched; if experience counted for anything, then there would be yet more pouring into his carnival today.

The feeding was good, here.

That scent of cotton candy rolled over the island once more, and the carnival's music touched what it could not.

It's a new day, Fandom. Come, enjoy it.

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It didn't need to make sense. Just so long as it beat out the alternative. That stabby one that involved the business end of a cotton candy stick.

"Dress-friends," Elsa replied, smiling warmly. "I've never had one of those before. I think that's an excellent idea. We shall be the very best of dress-friends, you and I."

Eleanor wriggled with glee. "Let's go find angels!" she said, reaching out to grasp one of Elsa's gloves and tug on it excitedly. "I can smell the rosepetals!!!"

More stuff you totally did not want to know about, just FYI, Elsa.

Elsa was getting the feeling that there were a lot of things she didn't want to know about at play, here.

"That sounds like an excellent plan," she replied, giving Eleanor another smile while her heart quietly bled in her chest. For all the eerie undertones, this girl really was still a child. And she hadn't had her hand tugged on like that, with just that sort of excitement, since the last time she'd been dragged out of bed to make a snowman. "Would you like me to carry you?"

"Daddy always carries me," Eleanor said, offering her lifted arms impulsively. She hesitated, a moment later. Something told her -- she didn't want to be hugged? Some part of this dark carnival's self-preservation, perhaps, but it was easily overridden by an excitable girl who liked to make friends.

Besides, if her new dress-friend tried to eat her, she'd scream loudly for Daddy and he'd get her. It was all okay!

Edited 2014-08-11 02:28 (UTC)

Well, Elsa wasn't going to let Eleanor hesitate too much. As loathe as she was to touch anyone, and as much as her heart was breaking here, she was still leaning forward to scoop the little girl up into a hug, pulling herself to her feet with Eleanor in her arms.

Take that. An off-the-ground dangly squeezy hug from an ice princess who had hugged people maybe twice since she was about eight.

She was making this one count.

"H-hey, no!" The girl wriggled, struggling a bit helplessly in Elsa's embrace. She had invited the hug, but now it seemed to be doing something to her. She didn't like that! Maybe she should kick the nice lady! Hey!

"Sssh," Elsa murmured, swaying a little where she stood, even while a bruise was imminent against her hip. "Sssh, it's okay. I won't hurt you. I'll let you down in just a moment, I promise. This is part of what dress-friends do, too."

And Eleanor would likely understand just how much that meant to Elsa in a moment or two more.

"No! No! Put me d--"

It was there, mid-word, that something changed. Something indefinable. Mist swirled -- who could say where it came from? The girl's shape was changing, the body expanding, growing heavier.

Feet touched the ground just as the much taller figure slumped over. Elsa was no longer supporting her weight, but she was still holding her up. In many senses of the word.

After a few moments of silence, a timid voice emerged.

"... Elsa?"

Edited 2014-08-11 03:01 (UTC)

"Eleanor," Elsa murmured, not loosening her grip on the other girl so much as an inch. "You're back. I'd worried."

She gave her a little squeeze, in fact, either to reassure herself that Eleanor was back to normal, or to reassure Eleanor that she was here and she wasn't going anywhere.

Maybe both.

"It's over," she murmured. "You're safe now."

Eleanor was going to hate herself for this later. She knew Elsa was averse to being touched, and knew what this must cost her.

She was trying to formulate a reply about how she was well, and very grateful to be back to herself, and to disentangle herself from her friend's embrace.

What she did, instead, was burst into tears.

Somewhere around their ankles, a little puffball dog was looking increasingly uncomfortable with pretty much everything that was happening in his entire fucking life right now.

Barry was going to have to suck it up. Elsa was going to continue clinging to Eleanor for all she was worth, rubbing little circles on her back with one hand, the way she remembered her father doing when she was small and scared, back when her fear came from elsewhere, instead of herself.

"It's okay," she murmured some more. "It's okay, I'm right here, you're safe..."

She wasn't going anywhere until Eleanor actually actively tried to pull away. The thought didn't even cross her mind.

It took at least a minute or two for Eleanor to regain her composure enough to form an actual reply. There was a ridiculous amount of snot that was being deposited on Elsa's shoulder, at this moment, and Eleanor couldn't even find it in herself to care.

"Sorry," she managed, shakily. "I'm so -- sorry. I just -- w-was any of that real?"

She felt like she'd just waken up from a particularly vivid nightmare.

"Don't be sorry," Elsa murmured. "You don't have to apologize to me for anything."

See the way she still was still holding on? Elsa wouldn't learn how to let go for another few years. You were stuck with her like this, Eleanor.

"I don't know how much was real and how much wasn't," she offered, softly. "But I do know that what happened to you wasn't your fault. And that you had no control over the things they made you do, here. Nobody did."

That seemed like a good place to start.

"I saw things," Eleanor said, softly. Still not letting go, either. Couldn't make her hands obey her head. "I saw ... the most dreadful things, and I ran. And then I was her again."

Mad, deranged, starved for ADAM. It was a wonder she hadn't been stabbing people with hypodermics.

As the memories rushed back, one leapt out at her. "Celia," she managed, straightening with a purpose. She could let go for this. It was important. "She's -- here, she's not herself. Someone should get her. And -- you? Were you ... ?"

Elsa eased back slightly, though she was reaching for Eleanor's hands, holding them in her own even though the hug had been broken.

"I'm fine," she promised. "Nothing got me, I'm fine. I'm sure somebody's gone looking for Celia as well... there were a lot of people here, looking for their friends and loved ones."

She worried her lip with her teeth for a moment, and then offered Eleanor a tentative smile.

"If you know where she was, we can go looking to be sure," she offered, gently. "We can keep one another grounded, so that neither of us can slip and fall."

Edited 2014-08-11 03:37 (UTC)

Eleanor let Elsa take her hands, gratefully. "That's why you're here," she said, softly. "You came looking for me."

Well, presumably her and others, but it helped to think of it in those terms, right now.

"We ... we can check for her on our way out," Eleanor said, feeling a touch disloyal. She wanted to be sure her friends were safe, more than anything, but if there was any chance someone else might save Celia, she had to confess that she'd prefer it. It ... might be difficult, to see her again, all things considered.

"Unless you're -- in a hurry?" She offered her friend a sheepish sort of smile before asking. "I don't -- suppose it would be all right if I hugged you again?"

Elsa was very wary of personal space, and Eleanor was doing her damnedest to respect that.

The residents of Fandom wouldn't rest until each and every person here was safe and restored to their proper self. Elsa had faith in that. She'd seen to Karina herself, and now Eleanor. She worried for Celia and for Kathy, of course, but she was confident that they would find rescue, as well. And if they didn't...

Well, this hug wouldn't last forever, either.

"Of course it would," she replied, nodding a little and letting go of Eleanor's hands in order to open her arms again. "Hug me for as long as you need to. I'm right here."

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The Park, Most of Sunday

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