Re: [Outside Secondhand Books & Cafe: Misha & Sadie]
Misha, he was a performer at heart. He loved it, and it made him feel good the same way souls glowing real bright and happy did. Could be he wasn't made for managing a carnival any, but he was made for performing and that was sure as could be. It was one of the reasons he'd got glum some when it was implied he wasn't a real carny, but he was trying to put that behind him. His show was sold out real regular, and folks always left smiling. That was the kind of good feeling he felt in his gut that he was meant to bring to the world, but he didn't have a whole lot of success in this town, not 'less he was on the stage. As for her and her general unease, or the sensation of it, all he noticed was she wasn't like any of his charges. But, Misha, he was real friendly with demons and folks inhabited by old gods, and he wasn't real fussed by someone who felt different some. He only knew she wasn't of his flock, and that didn't matter any to the boy that was packing away his fiddle and holding open the door for the girl.
He wasn't real careful of his fiddle, not like she was of her instrument, but he wasn't thinking on her noticing that. Could be he should start fussing over things like that, human things, but he'd never worried 'bout anything he played, and nothing he played ever turned wrong. The pitch was always perfect, the notes were always right, and he never did question it.
Misha, he didn't have a real good sense of money. He hadn't owned any when he was small, and the past decade had flown by somewhere money didn't exist. But, Damian, he had tabs all over town, and Misha wasn't fussed 'bout paying for a coffee. Could be if Damian's daddy was still 'round, then Misha might've worried, but that man was long gone, and he reckoned coffee wasn't real dear.
"There's good busking to be had in the Capital," he said, his reply to how long she'd been 'round these parts. "We got an apartment in the Village out there, and that part of the city's filled with buskers and street artists sitting and painting. It's a real good place, but there's competition," he said. He loved that part of the Capital, what with it being filled with art and music and tiny cafes. "I been here 'bout a year and a half now. I come from out in New York 'fore here, and Kentucky 'fore that." Misha, he wasn't real circumspect 'bout facts.
Course, the question 'bout Damian owning the Carnival, it made him grin. "It's out in the woods, down Central. I'll tell you more 'bout it once we have drinks. Want to grab us a table?" He motioned, and then he took himself a step toward the register. "What'll you have?"