WHO: Anahita and Yuriko WHAT: One's playing music, the other's intrigued WHERE: Sitting around on the midway WHEN: Later in the evening RATING: Low, I'm sure STATUS: Incomplete
Anahita never did tire of her art. That was a fact. But, with her state diminished from her time on earth, she found that her body did tire of what needed to be done in order to do her job. Though her mind was always sharp, there was an element of fatigue involved in keeping the same steady hand and still position for so long. Having done a good amount of large complete designs as well as a few smaller sessions, she found that she needed to take a break. The carnival hadn't closed yet, and she'd likely be back at her tent before the night was out. She just...needed a little time to do something else. So, she closed her tent temporarily, leaving out the standing easels that held some samples of her designs. Customers could still peruse until she returned, of course. No reason to deny them that.
A short venture back to her trailer was in order, and she made a point to pick up one of her biwas from its resting place. It was the youngest of the ones she had, and thus the one most suited for playing. In the back of her mind she made a note to perhaps bring one or two of her oldest ones for Julian to look over. The oldest one had been hers since her creation, so it had seen as much of life as she had. And even more than that, it had a touch of energy from her former home still resting in the polished wood. A treasure, surely. Anahita idly checked the strings of the biwa in her hand as she walked, making sure they were still in tune. Not really a necessary action since her playing would make the instrument sound wonderful whether or not it was in tune, but it was habit if nothing more.
Settling down on one of the picnic tables strewn about, she settled the body of the instrument in her lap, laying it on its side so she could play. She took the plectrum out of the back pocket of her jeans, placing it to the strings and beginning to play. With the change in time, she still retained the traditional way of playing. But now-a-days, she'd gotten the sound to resemble the modern guitar far more. At least in the way of melodiousness and smooth playing. The melody was smooth and light, even a bit dreamy. A bit of a smile came to her lips, memories playing in her mind of how she'd used to play on secluded mountaintops, with the sound resonating and the beauty of nature providing a perfect backdrop. That had been perfection for her then, but her version of perfection had changed. And, for now, the carnival was as perfect as perfect could be for her.