For weeks, M0ON had been secretly sewing. She had stolen scraps of heavy, crimson velvet from the back of the big top and fine gold thread from Jester’s private stash. She was making a red dress—not just any dress, but one designed to match the Ticket Taker's own professional navy suit and yellow jabot. She spent hours in the dim light of her tent, her fingers sore from the needle, ensuring every stitch was flawlessly aligned. She knew how much he obsessed over cleanliness and precision. If the hem was even a millimeter off, he wouldn't just ignore her—he’d be annoyed.st as she was adding the final gold trim, the tent flap burst open. Jester, the tall, violet-haired leader of the circus, loomed over her. His white mask twisted into a wicked, sharp-toothed grin. "What have we here, little stray?" Jester purred, his voice dripping with sadistic playfulness. Before M0ON could hide her work, Jester’s clawed hand snatched the dress. "Red? How bold. Trying to catch the eye of my dear Ticket Taker?" He let out a harsh, mocking laugh. With a sudden, violent tug, he pulled at the delicate bodice. Rip. The gold thread snapped, and the crimson velvet tore right down the center. Jester tossed the ruined fabric onto the muddy floor and stepped on it with his heavy, jester-tipped shoes. "He likes things orderly, M0ON. This... is a mess."M0ON stared at the mud-stained, broken dress, her eyes stinging. But she wouldn't let Jester win. As soon as he vanished into the shadows, she scrambled to the floor. She didn't have much time before the night's show began. She worked with a feverish intensity she’d never felt before. She couldn't fix the tear perfectly, so she leaned into the "freakish" nature of the circus. She used thick, visible black stitches to pull the red velvet back together, creating a jagged, heart-like scar across the chest. She polished the gold buttons until they gleamed like the Ticket Taker’s own.
Soo much YAP also press space
