[M]New faces, odd places

Jensen O'Callaghan · 01-04-2011, 05:21 PM

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WARNING This thread contains: strong language, drug usage, strong violence, or strong sexual content starting with the #th post. Reader discretion is advised.

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So this is Canada. Winters here were nothing like they were back home. Cold and buried in snow to the point where you almost couldn't tell ice and snow apart. This would take more than a bit of time to get used to, that was certain. He was trying to remember why he had chose to come here exactly. A new start, new faces.... he hadn't taken into account the whole 'Canadian Winter' thing.... obviously. Though since Shaw had accepted him into Cercatori D'Arte things had seemed to become less harsh, Thornbury was decently protected from harsh winds and overwhelming piles of snow. He was thankful for that. A warm place to sleep and less trekking for unknown destinations. How could he refuse? The auburn brute seemed to have lucked out. Hell, this place even had other musicians, let alone other craftsmen and artists. Canada might not be so bad after all.

Jensen had managed to park himself right outside a vacant home, the ivy still crawled around the door and seemed to envelope the rest. Snow had piled atop the roof and it didn't seem that anyone would mind him being here , for only a bit anyway. If Shawchert had told the truth, people would not mind his playing. Surely, if they did, this was not the place for him after all. Jensen raised the instrument to his shoulder, bringing the bow and strings together before he began to use the friction to create notes, and in the end music. The tune had a monotone emotion to it, not quite happy but not sad either. Mutual, yet lovely.

It was afternoon, the man had seen some bodies shuffling among the small town of sorts but he had yet to actually meet any member that was not Shawchert. It didn't seem to bother him all to much, he had been alone for his travels from Europe to Canada, spending a few more minutes alone was anything but fretful when it came to his eyes. The burnt orange eyes were half shut, not looking at anything in particular. Even if this place did not quite live up to his expectations, the scenery was nice, the houses built strong. That would be enough to last him a while. If for some reason he chose to leave in the future, that was a choice everyone had. He wasn't stuck here. He hadn't even stayed at his birth home with family and friends, good luck keeping him here. Though for now he was content playing his Violin, it was the only thing familiar.

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