This whole place was wrong. She'd never really been one for amusement parks or carnivals or circuses (you spend one weekend in Derry, Maine, reading the history of the place and seeing pictures of a creepy clown that was part of a traveling show ages ago...). But this place...this...whatever it was.

It didn't sit well under Charlie's skin. Not for shit.

She's climbed up to another window, using her telekinesis to keep her from falling. Upper body strength, she has not, but that's to be expected. She is an orphan runaway, after all. And sometimes, she couldn't steal more than a half-rotted sandwich every so often.

But she's up there, sticking and peering in and completely unphased when Bran lands nearby. She's used to it.

Frowning on her own, she tries to get a closer look. But the window is kind of gross, and if she lets go of the window sill to scrub at it, she'll fall.

"I don't like this place. When can we leave?" Fuck the mission. She never signed on for this.