The Only Thing // Closed RP
Dean glanced around with a faint smile, listening to the chaos of the other booths being set up, people calling instructions and asking where odds and ends were. This was why he loved these kinds of things--street fairs, open-air markets, whatever. Whenever a town he was passing through had them, Dean went ahead and registered.
It wasn’t like they made him the most money, but it was fun. And everyone liked a little cheesy psychic show.
If they knew all the things he saw and didn’t comment on, when they were laughing and paying him $20 for a corny fortune, Dean wouldn’t have many customers.
He sighed, adjusting his leather gloves as he arranged his little table, tarot cards and other goofy “psychic paraphernalia” scattered over it to give the right impression. The festival was starting soon, and Dean had a prime spot near the entrance to the park--he was one of the first and last vendors people would see.