The carnival (Xiao/open)

[Guest]

Her fingers strummed to a beat that made her heart ache.  Feelings flowed through the strings and rang a song too familiar to her.  Her eyes closed off from the world and through the area she could lull a chaotic world to a relaxed state.  Her two servants looked rather uncomfortable as they stood at each side of her and stared suspiciously at those who passed by too close.  It was a simple little get together like a carnival with games and such for children.  Her 'job' was just to sit and entertain a small group of children as a story was read.

Her eyes opened to catch a glimpse of her pain walking by.  It was okay.  She gently told herself, wishing more than anything that one day she would believe that lie.  Her eyes closed again and she lost herself on the waves of notes.  Sweet lies needed to take her away on a peaceful train of harmony.  The servants noticed and eyed her with suspicion as if she'd do something stupid.  NO, Rie wasn't like that.  IN fact, she was happy for them.  As much as her heart ached, she was content with bringing a happiness to others.  Her own could be made into that.  No matter how unhappy she felt, she would MAKE herself happy.  

The song continued as her fingers danced across the strings.  She created imagery in the form of notes.  Strange how many things could be formed through something simple as a harp and a few notes in her native tongue.  Once the story was over, she sent the children on their jolly ways with their parents.  It ached when the realization hit that she was getting old.  Thirty with nothing much other than servants and her own self in the buildings.  Oddly enough, she was okay with this.  After all, no matter how lonely she felt she was never alone.  She shook hands lightly with the passerby and gave a same greeting that was oddly individualized at the same time.  It was a rut, but at the same time was just work as usual.  "Hello, thank you for coming."

[Xiao Yu]

Having already spoiled his son with a weekend full of bonding time and presents, Xiao decided to close out the celebration of his son's third birthday with a trip to a local carnival. It was a way to perk both of their spirits up. As much as Xiao loved his son and rejoiced in the happiness of having his beautiful boy, it never failed to make him sad. The day he gained his son was the day he lost his wife. The love of his life. He didn't blame Zao, no. He could never blame the little lightning bug that was his pride and joy. He wasn't even sure that he blamed the doctors. Maybe there was no one to blame. He had been so caught up in becoming a father that he hadn't had time to blame. It was mostly straight through grief and into acceptance. This time of year was always hard though. After Zao had fallen asleep the night of his birthday, Xiao had snuck off to the cemetery. Yes, they were closed at night, but he had a little standing agreement with the cemetery yardkeeper. He had placed some flowers on his wife's grave and had some quiet reflection. That it was back to the life of fatherhood.

Which, of course, brought him to the carnival today. Xiao had taken Zao along with his new tricycle to the fair. Zao was learning swiftly on his little tricycle, but he hadn't quite mastered it. Xiao had brought along a rope of sorts, turning the tricycle into a wagon he could pull Zao along with if necessary. They had ridden a few rides and Xiao had won a stuffed duck for his son. They were pausing in their excitement to watch a storytime for children of various ages. Zao had sat fascinated by the story and by the harp music that had accompanied it. When the story had been completed Zao scrambled off his tricycle to run over to the harp and the woman playing it. He reached out and twanged a string on the harp, beaming. “WOW! Tat's pree-tee!” Xiao swore a little under his breath and scooped up the tricycle, carrying it awkwardly over one shoulder. He made a beeline through the small crowd to stop behind his son. He gave Nam a small, polite smile. “I'm sorry. He's really starting to like instruments.”