Dressing up, eh?

Dylan was unsure how he felt about it, at first...but he didn't want to seem like THAT GUY. So, moving forward out of his seat, he began picking various items...

After all, he had done some modeling taken pictures before, all in different styles of clothing. It wasn't that big of a deal to him...As long as he didn't have to wear tights again. THAT incident would never be repeated.

Taking the pieces back to his seat, Dylan removed his robe. After draping it over his chair, he started pulling random things on. It had been his experience that these Fortune Tellers hardly ever matched. So, the blonde felt confident in the fact that he might not match himself.

A pair of brown billowy pants, white tunic, and black pinstriped vest later...and Dylan felt he was hobo-ish enough. All that was missing was a moth-eaten fedora and some black eyeliner...and THEN he'd be totally set. Pulling his father's dog-tags out from under his shirt to let them hang, he smirked.

Oh, if his mother could see him now. The good, gentle woman would've had a heart-attack.

Chucking at the thought, Dylan pocketed his wand. It was a bit comical since he did not appear the least bit imposing in his runaway-thief-that-joined-the-carnival get-up. Shrugging, he proceeded to follow the others outside to the grounds.