The Circus had been amazing and everyone agreed it was time for a bit of rest and enjoyment. The festival on Surwood was, of course, the most obvious answer. Eriyenna had spent the first few days of their arrival getting settled and catching up on her sleep.

Eventually, she couldn't contain herself any longer and simply had to get out in the crowds and entertain.

Finding a good spot out of the flow of foot traffic but where there were still plenty of people passing by, the purple-haired witch settled down with a small collection of instruments (her djimbe drum, her violin, a flute or two just in case). Her bander wolf Bright-eyes deciding to lay down close by to people watch in the cool of the coming evening.

Standing near her drum, violin in hand, Eri began a simple, lively tune, wondering if she'd manage to attract a crowd but not really concerned. She was just out to have a good time and make some passing wicks smile. It was really one of her favorite parts of the festival - anonymous, true-hearted entertainment. She didn't even leave her violin case open for donations; this was totally not one of those kinds of celebrations. Closing her eyes with a wide grin, she let herself be consumed with where her spontaneous tune carried her.

"They're gonna dull down your looks
With all the lies in their books
To make a lousy slave out of you
Because they sleep with a gun
And keep an eye on you, son
So they can watch all the things you do..."

Tito's voice like a low moan rolled over the heads of those around. At the moment his voice was unaccompanied, but behind him on the makeshift stage were three other wicks with black hands painted on their cheeks preparing instruments. Tito was dressed in a purple tank-top. Tight black sleeves covered his elbows and lower arms with fingerless gloves on his hands. His usual black pants and boots adorned his legs and feet. Gaudy silver chains hung around his throat and hung about his pants.

The drummer began tapping out a low beat as Tito continued, raising his arms and his voice:
"Because their opes* only hurt
They gonna put you to work
'Cause they got methods of wringing you clean
They gonna rip up your threads
Your aspirations to shreds
Another pawn in their murder machine."

The two wicks behind him pulled raucous chords from their guitars as the drummer pulled powerful beats from his animal-skin instrument. The audience that gathered around them cheered, most of them of the younger generation. The bright and variedcolors of their apparel striking a startling contrast to the darker-clothed Black Hands.

"They say that 'All those wicks scare the living clock outta me
They could care less as long as someone'll bleed.'
So darken your clothes or strike a violent pose"--Tito gestured to his attire. --
"Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me."

Jack his bander lay down next to Tito, his tail thrumming in time with the beats of the drum. Underneath him lay Tito's steel-gilt guitar and he rested his snout on the neck of the instrument. The purple and black haired wick was using only his voice in this performance.

"Gal-dor-i jents in their clique
The awful names that they stick
You never gonna get anywhere, kid
But if you're troubled and hurt
What you got under your shirt"
Tito raised his fist with his thumb, index, and middle finger extended; a clear representation of a pistol.
"Will make 'em pay for the things that they did..."

(( * forms of opiates ))

Calli followed the sound of the violin like a cat might follow the scent of fresh cream. She loved Eriyenna's music. It made her want to dance even more than usual. She walked up behind Eriyenna, just listening to the violin. She'd discovered she loved to hear stringed instruments more than any other.

She was distracted by the sound of a familiar voice. She walked closer to Eri and tugged on her sleeve.

"Eri, I think I know that guy!" She said enthusiastically. "I made him sing with me that time I got drunk and danced on tables!"

Oh. Maybe he wouldn't be interested in her coming up to say hello...

Slim wandered through the throng like a derelict ship, not quite landing anywhere or connecting with anyone. He was dressed, for him, quite fancifully in black trousers with silver pinstripes, a white silk shirt with frills at the sleeves and collar, a bright pink and yellow checked vest and a floppy black hat. He cradled a well-polished fiddle in one arm. Every once in a while he looked at it, wondering if he should try out a tune.

The old gentlewick had been at the festival for a day and a half and had hardly spoken to a soul. For one thing, there was the language barrier. He didn't understand many Tek words, especially when used with the fluency at the Festival. He'd tried what little he knew earlier, but a couple of younger men with strange tattoos had only laughed at him with disdain before turning their backs on him. He thought they'd called him something like "Zats!" but he wasn't sure. Whatever the word, it had clearly meant "not one of us".

Realizing that his dwindling supply of liquor would only go faster if he kept to his cart, Slim had decided to venture out again, maybe play a tune...

The strain of carefree music caught his ear and he went to seek out its source. There was a purple-haired young woman whose appearance so matched her music that Slim had to smile.

Some pretty intricate fingering for a street performance...

Another voice jolted him out of his reverie. Slim winced, catching sight of the loud hooligan.

Careful, old man, can you afford to be passing judgment on anyone else, given your own questionable status here? Besides, if that's what the crowd likes, you'd better learn it yourself if you want to survive.

Eriyenna stopped playing as the rather equally purple wick on stage across the stretch of bare ground between them began to play. She hadn't realized there was going to be some kind of organized performance. If she had, she probably would've signed on up.


The purple-haired witch giggled in her typical wind-chime manner, twirling her bow in her hand thoughtfully as she let her violin slip from her chin to get a better look at the make-shift band of sorts on stage, "Oes? Are you sure that's the kov?" Eri grinned a little, catching onto the undertones of the man's choice of lyrics. She'd been a little devious herself at the Circus in Vienda, and it had been totally worth it (though she'd never admit that out loud, of course).

"Did you want to say hello, Calli?"


The witch asked her question as she watched the crowd. She managed a grin at the older wick with a violin who wandered past. There were so many other musicians about. It was so exciting. She wished the festival lasted all year long.

With a wistful sigh, she looked back to her younger friend, "I'll go with you if you'd like. I'm always up for meetin' more musical types. That kov's guitar looks like a piece of work." She looked at her small collection of instruments, pretty sure they'd be safe if she wandered off and left Bright-eyes to keep watch.

Tito smiled, drinking in the audience as they watched him. After the band repeated the chorus two more times, the song ended.

"Thank you! Thank you! We'll be here for the next three days, then who knows where else?" Tito yelled as those gathered cheered; winking at a few witches in the process who immediately blushed and giggled.

The agile wick let his feet fall out from under him as he sat down next to his bander friend. As he scratched Jack's ears, Tito pulled his guitar out from under the animal. With his free hand, he propped it up on his knee and began tuning it.

((Sorry, forgot about this, got so busy...))



Calli nodded, running a hand through her hair. It was so odd, seeing a crowd of screaming girls in front of him. It boggled her mind.

"I'm not sure he'll remember me but it'd be rude not too, I think..." She wasn't sure.

She walked forward, wary of the giggling gaggles of girls, and waved at Tito.

"Hesta! We sang a duet once." She said, smiling.

Eriyenna followed behind Calli, though she was not as wary as the younger witch. Resting her hands on the girl's shoulders, she smiled at the other musician before looking away to distractedly study all the instruments on stage.

Tito was polishing a few strips of metal as Calli and Eri approached, though he didn't notice the pair until Calli called out a greeting. He paused in his polishing and looked up, grinning as he recognized the face that went with the voice. "Calli!"

Grinning just a tad, the lean wick placed his guitar down and leaped off the short stage. "Hesta! And who is your friend?" Jack's ears twitched and he slunk off the stage after Tito. Reaching the girl, the bander stretched out to sniffer her and wagged his tail a few times.

Oh yay! He remembered her!

"This is Eriyenna!" She said brightly. "She's in the circus with me, she's a great musician!"

Calli leant down to pat the bander, quite enjoying playing with his long and furry ears.

"Hesta. Eriyenna Quartermoon, but you can just call me Eri." She giggled; it was like wind chimes in the summer. The purple-haired witch grinned at Tito and stuck out her hand, "Calli tells me you're quite the inspirational musician ... getting ladies to dance on tables'n'all."

Tito laughed, "I can't take all the credit, alcohol has more t'do with that than me, I assure you." The wick winked at Eri, he already liked her. "Ah, the circus, I'm sorry I missed it! I was already on my way here when it opened... Did it have a good turn-out?"

Jack laid down, realizing that this conversation would not be a short one; though, he did lean into Calli's hand as she scratched his ears.

Calli nodded, hair flopping about.

"There were sooo many people there! Tekaa and gollies and humans... It was great." Calli still remembered it fondly. "We had so many acts too, all went down without a hitch."

It started out in a simple, tentative strain. Lone notes strung together with just enough continuity of phrase to seem a progression. A song discovering itself. A questing melody. Uncertain, but determined to define itself further.

Then falling back into a more traditional fingering, the chords suggesting an older style: one rarely heard in Anaxas these days. Slim played his own musical equivalent of a soliloquy. Someone grown old and then uprooted. Once the theme of tradition was established there was a transition into chaos. An out-of-sequence scale played over what should have been a comforting echo of what came before. The two themes in conflict, chaos winning the battle.

Why? Why was I allowed to live if only to have trial after trial? Everything taken. Thrown into this whirl of color and conflict where tempers are high even in the midst of celebration? Ridiculed by those with whom I should be seeking refuge.

A return to the opening strain, this time accompanied by an out of tune but almost identical melody in a higher octave.

Pfah! Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You can do that alone. Nobody here cares about your troubles: they've enough of their own.

The discordant theme faded, leaving the clear melodic line, more vibrant, more legato and expanding into something else.

Slim looked around him, really looked. Many of the faces were familiar from the road. Others who were coming here because there was nowhere else to go. Not everyone was fighting. Not everyone had turned at his non-tek accent. One old woman had shared wine and stories of her departed husband. An explorer who had died aboard a ship.

Traveling, the repetition of wagon spokes clacking as the caravan's wheels turned. The rhythm was plain to anyone who'd heard it before – which would be everyone here. The flapping of cloth in the wind. Slim even added some percussion by brushing his fingers against the wood in time.

There were some children about. Many ages. Some playing with hingles.

A silly little hingle theme intruded. It multiplied and evolved into a chase.

Over there was a bander playfully chasing a little boy.

And of course the young people enjoying the pleasant air of the season. Flirtation, new romances, new life to come.

Still playful, but a little more mature. A teasing sort of play. The flick of a lover's hair as she considered the kov who courted. The touch of hand on waist or a protective arm flung across a shoulder.

Slim continued... translating the relations and activities of the crowd into little pieces of composition on the spot. Temporarily at least, he belonged to his music and not to his troubles.

((Feel free to react or not... just here in the background ))

Eriyenna chuckled, bringing a hand to her face and feigning shock, "No ...! It wasn't just talent, then? For shame." She shook her head, dark eyes still laughing at the thought, "Many a good musician's career has been paved with a benny bit of alcohol. 'Specially when there's some table dancin' to be had."


"The whole thing was benny indeed." The purple-haired witch grinned.


"Oes. That it did, Calli. Despite all the mung things about Vienda, we still managed to have a good time." She spoke hesitantly, "Did you, were you, involved in all the mess there? Is that why you left for the festival early?"