The sound of seconds ticking away seem to have merged with her subconscious these days. The night sky is onyx as the moon glows in all its glory as it hangs fully exposed outside the window. The potions mistress nearly slumps in her chair as her mind refuses to offer any respite. Her long raven hued locks slapdash their way down her back. The midnight shade of her heavy robe matches her current mood.
The potions lab that has offered her answers so many times before extends nothing to her on this dark day. In fact her earlier efforts to save he oldest, and dearest friend were thwarted in this very room as her solo attempts proved utterly futile. She is so deep within the recesses of her spinning mind that she fails to reconcile footsteps approaching in her direction. A hand on her shoulder startles her into reality. A character who wears literal clown pajamas has materialized before her. He places a ceramic mug on her desk.
"I thought I might find you holed up in here after the way the day played out. I know sleep proved to be too fickle a friend for me, and you are far closer to our fearless leader than I am. I brought you a cup of tea for lack of a better thing to do."
She offers a heavy sigh. Mr. Daisy prepares for a tongue lashing. "I appreciate your kindness."
"I feel the need to continually apologize with great zeal, and commitment until you forgive me for being such a buffoon and turning you into an unwilling dance partner."
"You've since been forgiven. Your earlier efforts to aide a friend in need did not go unnoticed either."
"I know that you equate me to little more a nuisance that you must deal with because you are a professional. As someone who had a quite misspent youth, and early adulthood with a great deal of opportunities that I allowed to slip through my fingers I've gained some insight. We are all merely mortal. The events of today enforced that to me once again. Despite your lack of interest I find myself happiest just when I am in your mere presence. I won't take up any more of your time," he turns to leave.
Hecate exhales, fairly certain that she will regret her next choice, "I miss dancing. I took dance lessons until I was ten. I dreamt of becoming a prima ballerina."
He offers her a genuine smile, "You would have been an excellent one. You are an excellent witch."
"Mister Daisy, it seems I am in pursuit of the joy that is missing from my life."
"You are Joy."
"The irony does not escape me. My identity crisis has me dithering between zealously upholding professional boundaries, and traditions I have relied on as pillars, or following my heart's desires."
He leans against her desk, "Is your life's work enough to sustain you?"
"Unequivocally, no."
"Then the answer is quite simple, isn't it? Stop stewing in a sea of wretchedness, and row somewhere else."
"Movement does not ensure result."
"Doubt will kill more dreams that failure ever does," he quotes.
"I came across your CV earlier today."
He guffaws, "It reads like a poorly written novel. It is like a rudderless ship with a poorly qualified captain. I am unconventional, but I learned something valuable in each role."
"You were literally a clown."
"I excelled in the role, as it came quite naturally. It paid handsomely, too."
"Why did you come to Cackles? What were you hoping to gain from this role?"
"I too was in search of Joy. I thought I caught a glimpse of her at a witching conference that I attended last summer. She led me around the dance floor, and my heart has yet to recover."
"It seems foolish to put your career on the line to chase after someone you may never catch."
"It would be foolish not to try. Physics law of attraction tells me that much. If I fail at least I get to enrich the lives of young witches along the way. Their zest for learning fuels me. I should leave you to your own devices. I do not want to contribute to your insomnia."
"May I ask you something, before you go?"
He nods, "Anything," as he peers into her whiskey hued eyes.
"How can you move toward something so resolutely when the likelihood of failure far exceeds the odds of success?"
"A single glimmer of hope is where you find magic."
"I could use your assistance with a project I have been contemplating. The odds of success are abysmal, as time is a potent antidote. The endeavor requires throwing logic, and reason totally out the window. It seems like the pursuit of a rabbit down a hole. The leap of faith requires support that I lack. It is only for someone willing to go cliff diving."
He glances over her shoulder at the page her fingers linger on. She turns, and finds herself dangerously close to the man in clown pajamas. As she breathes she inhales the scent of his recently shampooed hair.
"My CV proves that my commitment to seeing a project through to the end far exceeds my ability to walk away when things get difficult. I do not do anything by halves. I would be obliged to assist you in your endeavors on one condition."
"Name it."
"Don't hold anything back. I assure you I can match you step for step. Your lead."