[ falling from the sky is a large chicken. no, it's a sparrow. no, as parker straightens up from the corn field, it is clearly a blonde woman in a björk style yellow duck dress. she absently pets the duck head in commiseration, looking around, dark eyes calculative as she follows the path made by the balloons and flags. she has a bouncy little walk, tulle skirts bobbing.

when someone approaches, the persona of bree, the icelandic popstar, is who greets the welcoming committee. her accent is high and light, bubbly and outstandingly weird in an effort to make the greeter give up entirely on convincing her to join one side or another. she is absolutely astounded!!! that they don't recognize bree the icelandic pop princess, squeaking progressively louder and louder until it turns into a dramatic (and shrill!) wail. ]

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

[ still, bree is not parker, so bree signs her name for the society, receives her phone, and bobs off to the b&b. if she lifts a few more phones and ids as she goes, well. it was the duck's fault. ]

[ carnivals mean sugar, so parker is there. still dressed as icelandic pop princess bree, parker and her duck dress are on a mission to find all the chocolate. just all of it. every bit of it. ]

Excuse me, [ she squeaks in bree's accent. ] Where is chocolate fountain?

( go where your heart takes you or hit me up via plurk (baleinette) or discord (baleinette#3692) to plot! parker will not be changing out of this batshit get-up until hardison makes her, so enjoy. xoxo )