[Outside Secondhand Books & Cafe: Misha & Sadie]
She appreciated, more and more, this little interaction. Misha, for his part, seemed to do a fair bit of the talking and kept it focused on things she could manage without worry. Was he doing it on purpose? T'was a thing she couldn't help but to wonder and, even if he was, she didn't take much mind to that. It beat all when it came to how many people would respond to her and the lines he was putting in the picture of the town were things she knew to be vital. Well, they'd be vital if she was going to stay anyway, but it was might hard to argue about staying in a place where people threw twenties in your case.
Sadie wasn't greedy or delusional, she figured it even might have been a fluke. If this place was even capable of that kind of a fluke however? Well, to the busker that seemed a sound argument as any to let her feet plant her longer than they otherwise might've.
It was why she seemed to be paying particular interest to what he had to say. Eyes would sit forward, not holding onto the liquid in her cup no matter how much the scent tempted her to do just that. He was talking and Sadie wanted to present all signs that she was, in fact, paying attention to what he said.
"S'a nice picture you put together there." She sounded just a wee bit skeptical, because that kind of caution was better suited to longevity than not, but it didn't seem to last past the first sip of her drink. It wouldn't have taken a keen or clever eye to spot the gears turning over in her head, that she was trying to paint her own picture in her head as to what he was talking about and what some (admittedly grandiose) picture of herself in it might look like.
"You mean it doesn't move around?" A head tilt sent the curious question across the table not unlike she was playing a game of table tennis with him. It was another show of her hand perhaps, one where she didn't ask about the money or what her take might be as a more seasoned artist might. Negotiations weren't part of her thinking at all really, though she quickly assumed that didn't come as a shock to anyone. It wasn't like you could, in good conscience, haggle for what people thought your music was worth. Besides which, she was more interested in a carnival that seemed to stay in one place than anything.
"So if..." She didn't finish the sentence at first, instead distracted by the implications and ramifications of what she'd been about to ask. It was too bold, too brazen, and built on a hope she was too curious about. She seemed to pause, studying her drink like it was an 8-Ball that might give her some clue to the future. "Say if I wanted to come by and bring my violin, just to see, that'd be a thing I could do maybe?" Another slight pause was taken while she seemed to think.
"I could set up outside a bit even, if'n you'd rather not have me in'a gates, get a little sign as it were, not that I'm gathering people be needin' direction if you stay around." Excitement was pulling back the curtain again, dragging the girl underneath it all back out into the light.
"And what kinda games is there?" Even though she never, ever, won, Sadie would be the first to admit she did love a good Carnival game.