Sadie Lynn (sirenonstrings) wrote in repose, @ 2018-02-20 13:44:00 |
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Sadie Marella had never been much of a complainer. It was a trait broken from her, though not all that impolitely, when she was younger. She just quickly figured out it didn't do her much good. Neither her Pa nor her Ma'ma never had much time to hear it, 'specially not after the other younhsters had come along. So it was that she just mostly had done given it up. It was a trait that had served her pretty well, thumbing her way away from the only home she'd ever known and ending up who knew where and it helped her learn to just keep a smile on her face no matter what the world threw at her. T'was somethin' her Gran'ma'ma would have been proud of, she reckoned, but that didn't change the fact there were some days she thought about it. Today, was one of those days. It hadn't been a day at all out of the ordinary really, what with Sadie taking time to practice some different pieces of music. She'd kept to her trailer (which was weird to say in and of itself) for that bit, not wanting to torture anyone too much while she polished up her Ravel and other such things she thought might be better suited to Dietre's musical tastes. Maybe it was a silly thing to be so excited about, but Sadie just took it as an opportunity to get better with her instrument. Besides, if she was living and working at a Carnival now (at least when she wasn't slipping away to go see Nish because she missed her new big Sister) then it made sense. She was a professional now and that meant a different way of living altogether — or so she'd once been told. This had to do with why Sadie finally just huffed at herself and why she considered complaining. Between the last few weeks, a lot had changed. It started weirdness Misha had warned her about had kept her in the Carnival for its duration. Then there was the seemingly sudden changing of the head of the Carnival, which had made Sadie feel uneasy and suddenly unsteady because what if the interim manager didn't like her? Add to that the passing of Valentine's Day which had been skipped this year, despite the fact Sadie normally celebrated it for herself and found it to be a very lucrative day for busking, and she was just...maybe she was a little stir crazy? Was that it? Had she been on the move for that long now, where she couldn't bring herself to sit still in one place without it feeling weird? Certainly it didn't feel unreasonable, though it would be something about herself she found annoying, if'n it were true. Then again, Repose had offered her more opportunities to change around her life than Sadie knew what to do with so, maybe it wasn't something to get huffy about so much? Instead she'd just sit on the floor with her breakfast and that iPod, listening to music while she munched and tried to just think about what her life was now. By her accounts she had a job, a place to live and other places she was regularly invited to stay. She wasn't regularly going hungry or and it could have been argued she was even making friends, right down to borrowed nail polish that she still very much needed to find the proper way to thank Misha for letting her use. Though it was probably stretch to anyone but Sadie, she even felt like she'd found a small form of family in that, where one could talk about trading cookies again (which she very much wanted to do) or curl up next to an elder sibling after a bad dream. Even the latter, with it's impossible to fully discern ramifications when it came to Nish now knowing what Sadie could do, still managed to land itself in the plus column. In fact, every last one of the changes in her life since coming to Repose landed there — right down to that aforementioned iPod she'd been able to charge regularly for the first time in months. So what was the problem? Nish, she could argue with herself, was a point of worry but even that felt like she was fishing. If the woman had wanted to cause problems for Sadie, she'd have done it by now. If anything, it seemed like she wanted to help. While that was it's own set of complications and confusions, no amount of internal debate would draw Sadie to the conclusion that it was right. She'd seen, too many times, what people did when they were aware of what she could do and helping had never been on that list. Finally, Sadie had given up on it. She'd dressed herself, thrown away the trash from her breakfast bar, and set about checking over her violin. Normally, this was the part of the morning where she'd pick out some songs for herself and just stroll the grounds of her new job, playing through them, testing crowds, and putting together some kind of plan for what she might play when it came time to be up on a stage. This morning however, Sadie had a very different set of plans for herself. She was going to take things back to something she knew: She was going to lace up her sneakers and hit the town busking again. She hadn't really done much of it, not since getting her job, and she thought maybe it would help her clear her head. So it was that Sadie was out the door and on her way. She wasn't even sure what she might play along the stops, or where those stops might even be, but that was a comfort in and of itself. So much of her life had been lived just this way that taking her hands off the proverbial wheel was actually something that brought her peace and calm. She knew she could get through the day. She knew she didn't have to worry, that she could just pick up her violin and move along at any time. If she'd spent even five minutes of thought on that last point, about how she very much didn't want to just pack up and move along, things probably would have made a lot more sense to her this morning. These were the baby steps in building a life though, a thing Sadie had very limited means of understanding for herself as life, so far, had either been on the road or all about others. When it came time to choosing for herself, or when she found a place she wanted to stay? The anxieties and worries that came with that, the things which manifested themselves as itchy feet and complaints about sitting still, were probably pretty normal. To Sadie Marella however, they were nuisances. They were problems and plights that distracted her and made her unhappy, and there was only one cure for them: She needed to go play. Bus stations and airports, really any place where people were traveling to and from, were always hit or miss points. Sometimes you'd catch someone on the landing side of things, or who had a long connecting flight between where they'd sit outside, smoke cigarettes, and watch you play. Those people usually paid pretty well she found, but they were in the minority. Most people were rushing to catch planes or, in this case buses. Most people probably didn't even stop to listen, and that was just fine by Sadie. She'd just use it as a chance to play and practice, trying to pick up some of the more slow and melodic pieces to bring people a sense of peace and calm as they bustled and hustled. If she made any money, fine. If she got someone to stop and listen, all the better. If she made someone smile, even a little bit, well that was her real aim here this morning. Nothing lifted Sadie's spirits quite like making people smile with her music. It was right up there with fresh baked cookies. Which made her take down a mental note to remember to get the things to make them for Beau as she left the bus station and headed more toward the town proper. It was closing in on lunch, both for Sadie and the rest of the world, and she decided that heading back toward the bookstore and cafe where she'd first met anyone here was her best option. The food there was good, the drinks were excellent at cutting through a February chill, and the crowds were likely to be good too. She even debated going to the Capital, but had decided against it. She'd just wander from place to place in town, playing wherever she felt like stopping and whatever song called most to her in her heart. That was what today was about. It wasn't about trying to busk for skill, but for fun, for smiles, and to just feel like herself — or at least the self she wanted to be. Maybe this was why some catchy, pop, songs, started showing up. There was a wealth of modern music on that iPod Sadie had learned how to play and public crowds were places where covers and melodies like that shined. They were the hooks that could draw people in, things that balanced well with the rubber bands and washers on her shoes. They were the kind of songs that drew in coins and encouraged people to stay and listen, the type that got people clapping along and feeling the sound move them. They were the songs that provided most of Sadie's favorite moments in her life. Perhaps most importantly of all however was the reserve for which she gave the pieces she'd be playing today. From the somber Eastern World compositions, to the Western Pop inherited from strangers in coffee shops, everything she played today would come from a list of things she normally kept just for herself. They were the song tied to memories, pleasant and happy no matter what had come of them, and they were things that drew that itch out of her feet and her chest and let her feel at home on the streets. They were the things that made Sadie feel bright and shiny, like she was basking in the sun on a cloudless summer day, and the things that made it impossible to feel anything save that all was right with the world. |