@portraiyal / sasha & notsasha.
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“Evening, you.” It’s said to both the woman in the painting and the dog currently attempting to ignore the impostor. “I’ve had an interesting... evening.” Coerced into a movie night with Timothy and Martin, and... it’s not the first time they’ve thought about all of this. The... leaving the Circus (oh, if only they could, damn the table, damn Dekker, and damn Breekon and Hope, too), and... not for the first time, letting its victims out. It has done so, once, but it was long ago now, at least a century, and there’s more to gain from keeping them trapped.
“The kind of evening that had me thinking.” She wasn’t intending to watch the movie, an animation for children, but... well, kinship with non-human things, as much as they try not to pay that godawful itch any mind. Oh, she laughs then, sharp, deep in their own head. “Ah, well... thinking about changing things. I think you might like it.” Despite that, the smile is less than kind, or inviting.
And she... does think often of that one dancer. Particularly bold, that one. Nikola might look for them, if her nebulous plans were to ever come to fruition (and fuck it, why not?), but why shouldn’t she go forward with it? It’s still a terrifying thing, even without entrapments. “Besides, I think your dog hates me.”