More Music in the Park

[hazlogs]

Mikhail takes some note of the musician, studying him with a hard eye before
seeming to dismiss him, finding one of the benchs to settle into, apprently
waiting for something or someone.
Mikhail walks in from the east slowly, eyes narrowing slightly as he looks
over the park.

Currently on this gusty and cold spring evening in the general St. Claire
area, it is 43 degrees Fahrenheit (6.1 degrees Celsius). The wind is coming
from the south-southeast at 12.7 mph. The ground is wet and sleet falls from
the sky. Skies are overcast with a definite chance of precipitation.

The slow, weeping notes of a violin drift through the cold evening air,
mournful in a minor key. Erik faces the river as he plays, the violin case
open at his feet, but he pays no attention to his small audience or the
small coins and bills gathered in the case. Swaying slightly with the rhythm
of the piece, he plays with expressive, flawless skill.
Mikhail takes some note of the musician, studying him with a hard eye before
seeming to dismiss him, finding one of the benchs to settle into, apprently
waiting for something or someone.
Erik continues to play. The piece is none that anyone would recognize, though
it sounds vaguely familiar.
Mikhail waits quietly, his gaze and unsettling mix of patience and subdued
fury.
The sorrowful violin notes finally trail off, and for a moment there's
silence, apart from a smattering of clapping. Erik flinches, ducking his
head and bending down swiftly to put the violin away, back in the case. The
presence of cash in the case gives him pause for a moment. As the tiny
audience wanders away, the masked figure scoops the coins and dollar bills
(only a few of those) into his coat pockets and lays the beloved instrument
in the padded case.
John makes his way through the tall grass of the south.
Mikhail is sitting quietly on one of the park benches, watching the park with
a quiet if apprasing glance, apparently waiting for ... something.
John walks in from the south, apparently drawn by the sweet music coming from
Erik's violin. He pauses, nodding to Mikhail, stopping near the fountain to
continue to listen.
Erik snaps the case shut and rises, slinging the strap across his body. The
tall figure glances around, then lowers his head and makes his way toward a
bench. Not Mikhail's; he hasn't noticed the irritated man.
John notices his dinner partner from last evening and heads over to the same
bench. Approaching quietly, he speaks to Erik, "May I join you?"
Erik turns his head slightly toward John. "Ah... aye." The accent's a little
thicker tonight, for whatever reason. Erik folds his too-tall body into the
bench, pulling the case into his lap.
John sits in the location formerly occupied by the case, keeping a slight
distance between himself and Erik. "How are you today?"
Erik hugs the case to his chest like a child clutching a teddy bear or a
security blanket. "I'm well. Er, you?"
John smiles. "I'm doing quite well. How long have you been playing the violin?
I'm afraid the few attempts I've made have resulted in rather horrifying
sounds coming from the instrument. It was a pleasure to listen to it played
well."
Erik ducks his head slightly, as if embarrassed by the compliment. "Since I
was a child," he murmurs.
John nods solemnly. "You had an excellent teacher. Where are you from
originally?"
Erik swallows audibly. "I... I canna say."
John looks mildly suprised, then shrugs indifferently. "It's your business, I
suppose. What do you do for a living? You play very well, but i can't
imagine playing on the street provides much of an income."
Erik shrugs uncomfortably. "It's... what I do."
John says "So how did you get acquainted with Elan?"
Erik murmurs, "He helps out at... at the Project, where I live."
John nods. "I've been giving consideration to volunteering there myself. Do
you know who i should talk to?"
Erik thinks a moment. "Buick."
John looks thoughtful for a moment. "I don't think I've met him. What's he
like?"
Erik mumbles a half-baked description. "He has an office," the tall man adds.
John chuckles softly, "OK, I guess I'll be able to find him then."
Erik nods once.
John glances at his watch. "Well, I should be going. Nice to see you again."
He Probably see you down at the project soon."
Erik nods again. "Ah... probably."
John get up from the bench. He turns and waves, then heads off to the south.
John picks his way south, into the overgrown meadow.