Post by Vianne on Apr 8, 2013 19:01:42 GMT -5
Older now, the girl has spent too long sitting in this city. For months, she has thought long and hard about packing up her things and hoofing it back down south. The stars are so much brighter there.
For whatever the reason, however, the werwolf can't seem to shake the grip of this place. Boston, while it's not home, has been a place of refuge. No one knows her all that well, and she's basically bumming it off of Malakia, which still makes her feel guilty. Vi spends more time out and about than she does on Mal's doorstep, and that helps. The wolf can slip off into the shadows, find food, and live a relatively peaceful existence. Perhaps that is why she stays.
The anonymity is comforting, and Vianne knows only a handful of people. No strings, no attachments, and no possibilities for the wolf to hurt anyone important. While she embraces that side of herself, the woman fears humanity would not take kindly to a wolf in sheep's clothing. She keeps her distance, plays her violin, and lives.
Vianne goes through a wide variety of old bluegrass tunes today, and when she tires of those, she transitions into covers of more familiar songs. Sheet music litters the bench beside her; she had printed out copies of many songs at the library yesterday. Sometimes she consults the sheets, and others she plays by ear. To say that she's a completely flawless violinist would be a lie, and her playing isn't without mistakes, but she plays fairly well with a smile on her face. Standing, she bobs at the knees and passes her bow over those singing strings time and time again.
Three hours of mindless fiddling in the park pass without a hitch. A few people pause to listen to the violinist in the oversized brown leather jacket. Several toss money into the open case on the bench beside her. Combined with her salary from her job at the local supermarket, it's enough. Vianne is most comfortable living simply.
After playing Devil's Dream, she glances at her watch and notices it's almost one o'clock p.m. She has yet to eat lunch, so she decides to finish up with a familiar, more modern song. Grinning, she knows it's an ironic one, but the redhead has taken a liking to the beat.
The bow flies and Vi sways along, smiling and tapping a toe when the beat rises. Then the woman can really play with a good dose of energy.
For whatever the reason, however, the werwolf can't seem to shake the grip of this place. Boston, while it's not home, has been a place of refuge. No one knows her all that well, and she's basically bumming it off of Malakia, which still makes her feel guilty. Vi spends more time out and about than she does on Mal's doorstep, and that helps. The wolf can slip off into the shadows, find food, and live a relatively peaceful existence. Perhaps that is why she stays.
The anonymity is comforting, and Vianne knows only a handful of people. No strings, no attachments, and no possibilities for the wolf to hurt anyone important. While she embraces that side of herself, the woman fears humanity would not take kindly to a wolf in sheep's clothing. She keeps her distance, plays her violin, and lives.
Vianne goes through a wide variety of old bluegrass tunes today, and when she tires of those, she transitions into covers of more familiar songs. Sheet music litters the bench beside her; she had printed out copies of many songs at the library yesterday. Sometimes she consults the sheets, and others she plays by ear. To say that she's a completely flawless violinist would be a lie, and her playing isn't without mistakes, but she plays fairly well with a smile on her face. Standing, she bobs at the knees and passes her bow over those singing strings time and time again.
Three hours of mindless fiddling in the park pass without a hitch. A few people pause to listen to the violinist in the oversized brown leather jacket. Several toss money into the open case on the bench beside her. Combined with her salary from her job at the local supermarket, it's enough. Vianne is most comfortable living simply.
After playing Devil's Dream, she glances at her watch and notices it's almost one o'clock p.m. She has yet to eat lunch, so she decides to finish up with a familiar, more modern song. Grinning, she knows it's an ironic one, but the redhead has taken a liking to the beat.
The bow flies and Vi sways along, smiling and tapping a toe when the beat rises. Then the woman can really play with a good dose of energy.