|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Aug 09, 2012 4:42 pm
Starting over was hard at the best of times, but starting over with nothing was another story.
Ophelia wandered to the park, violin case in hand. She felt bad that Jett had been forced to take her in, and wanted to start paying him back as soon as possible. Which was hard to do when you did not have a penny to your name. She was always so used to being in control, and being in this situation did not please her one bit. At least her music gave her comfort, if nothing else, she was still in control of that.... and luckily enough it was a talent she could use to help her financial situation.
She might not make much from playing in the park, but it was a start. She could not bare sitting around and doing nothing, being left to her thoughts was a nightmare that she tried to avoid at all costs.
The brunette set her case down on the ground, picking out a spot by the lake. It was well sheltered and with any luck her pale skin would not burn in the sun. It was a lovely morning, even by her standards. She was borrowing some of Jett's mothers clothes. They consisted of a pale pink shirt and a grey pencil skirt. Maybe a bit formal, but she could not be picky. She looked older than she was, she always did, but even more so now she was wearing a grown woman's attire.
In all honestly she was just glad the woman believed the lies her son had fed her. She had been so kind, but that just made her feel even more of a burden. They had given her so much, she was not used to such kindness from strangers.
She put the instrument to her chin and began to play, the familiar feeling comforting her. For the first time in a while she felt like herself, and she became lost in the melody. All the stress she was under melted away, and for a little while she escaped to a happier place.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Aug 12, 2012 7:33 pm
The park was, by far, Fritz's favorite place to draw in.
This was partially because it had the best light (the cafe was too dark, and the streets were too blocked by the large buildings and skyscrapers that made up most of Destiny City), but also because it was a rather lovely place to simply come and people watch.
And now that it was summer, he didn't have to worry about the cold winter snow - just the heat that sifted across the park like a wave, soaking into everyone and everything. Fortunately, however, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, and Fritz made himself comfortable, standing off in the shade in a pair of khakis, a green teeshirt, and boat shoes, his hair pulled back away from his face with a series of clips and a small ponytail. As usual, his fingers and arms were stained with paint within a few moments of his beginning - Fritz did not exactly make the highest effort in keeping himself cautious while painting - and cheerfully made the best of the bright sunlight, the brush making wide strokes across the canvas.
After about an hour he heard something different, however - the soft strains of a violin. He blinked, pushing up his glasses with the back of his hand and glanced around the park, searching for the sound.
It did not take long - she was only a few feet away, just behind him, a young woman who looked perhaps his own age, with dark hair. The tune was a quiet one, gentle and soothing, and Fritz laid his paintbrush down, folding his arms across his chest (and probably smearing paint across his shirt in the process) to listen.
When she had finished, he smiled and said, "That was lovely."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 14, 2012 1:02 am
Ophelia finally came to the end of her piece. She was no longer in need of sheet music, she songs she played she had played enough times to remember them off by heart. They were also so unusual that it was very rare a person knew what she was playing, so if he did make the rare mistake it was even rarer for somebody to notice.
She opened her honey coloured eyes and looked over at the source of the voice that had paid her the compliment. "Thank you, it was called Syringe by Miss Autumn." She did not play her own songs, not publicly at least, and liked to give the artist credit where it was due. Her eyes drifted over to her case, whilst she was entranced it seemed like one or two people had been generous enough to donate to her cause. It was a start, but she saw herself being here for at least another couple of hours.
She brought the instrument down from her chin and looked over at the boy once more. "You have a little paint, well... everywhere." She stated, not really knowing any other way to put it. Not being very good with small talk her attention turned to the cause of his messy exterior. Ophelia appreciated art in any form, be it writing, paining or music. She was also painfully shy, as her quite voice suggested, but she saw no harm in conversing with a fellow busker.
"What are you working on?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
