The key to peace is dangling by a string. (Open)

[Christian Lucas]

The mall wasn't terribly large. Definitely not after his travels, given the population of this town. He had asked around, and quickly been told that the only music store of note was here. It didn't take long to find it either. As he walked in, he couldn't help but feel a gentle smile creep across his face. He'd always had a soft spot for anything involving art or the arts as a whole.

He saw no one in the store at this particular moment, so he walked to the counter and rang the bell, waiting a moment. When there was no shout from the back or anything, he went over to peruse the instruments. He gently ran a hand across a baby grand piano, pausing a moment as if considering something.

Shaking his head slightly he moved on further into the store, seeing instruments on the walls as well. He frowned slightly at the drum sets he saw set up. He'd never been any good at drums. A drummer many times was demanded to keep three, four, sometimes even more simultaneous beats going. He couldn't keep quite that number going as casually as some others he'd met. So he had both a bit of a soft spot for anyone talented at drums, and a slight disgust at the instrument themselves.

Finally he reached what he wanted. Violins. He very gently raised lifted one, finding a bow nearby that had been rosined already. Taking a deep breath he held the violin out over his shoulder, and began to run the bow across the strings. As the first few notes came out, he winced and frowned. It was out of tune. Not terribly bad, considering it was probably played with by any number of people each day, and he doubted the employees had time to tune every instrument every day.

Closing his eyes he began to tune the violin by ear. It took a fairly short time before he was playing it. First just some very quick warm ups, and then moving into playing a piece from "Fiddler on the Roof." He still had his eyes closed as he continued playing the piece, oblivious to the outside world for the moment.

[Vincent Meian]

The mall was rarely somewhere that Vincent wanted to be. Most often, he went because he was a bit of an addict when it came to sweets (though not as much as Sean) and there was an ice cream parlor and doughnut shop near each other whenever he felt the desire for a sugary bite. Sometimes, he went to pick up supplies for his office or students, and occasionally he went on an excursion to see if he could find some clothes (shirts were far easier than pants, but that wasn't saying much).

This time, the trainer was here for one reason only; his violin needed repair.

Actually, that was less dire than it may sound. Two of the strings on his violin had snapped when he'd been tuning it the other day, and he'd also discovered that one of his pegs was loose. If that weren't enough, he was almost out of rosin. Basically, the only repair work that needed to be done he could do at home, but the Japanese man wanted to test out the strings before committing to them if he could. He also wanted to browse the sheet music if he could - he'd just about mastered all of his music, including the pieces he'd been given for Christmas by his wife.

So... less one reason and more six that were all under one idea.

As the tall man entered the shop Nik had mentioned to him, the sound of a violin being tuned reached his trained ear. Almost immediately, Vincent turned to face the wavering notes and walked forward. He paused, however, and waited a moment as the man he saw began warming up on the strings - this was a buyer, not an employee. It would not be wise to disturb them.

Looking around the store for a moment, the Japanese man noticed the display of strings and rifled through them momentarily before finding the two that he wanted - silver wound gut strings, A and E. They were slightly more expensive than they would be if he ordered them online or direct from a manufacturer, but the trainer was wary of the internet for most things and preferred to have the strings in-hand within moments. Almost immediately after he found them, a familiar tune reached his ears and he looked to the younger man with the display item to listen for a moment longer.

Fiddler on the Roof. He recognized this piece easily, as it was one of the few contemporary musicals that employed the violin in a lead role. Ironically, the "fiddler" played as a violinist, but each of the parts could be played in a fiddler's form as well - it was just trickier. Vincent stood and listened for a moment, enjoying the sound - the man was good. Not grand orchestra quality, but good. He could just be enjoying himself, though, and it was more for that that the tall man liked his playing. It didn't matter if one was professional or not; music came from the heart and soul. Technique was a means to an end.

As the last notes fell, the trainer looked to the other man with a nod. "You play well."

[Christian Lucas]

Chris was slightly startled by the man. He smiled and said "Thank you. Do you play?" as he tried to calm his heart now. He had been thinking back to his time as Perchik, one of the characters from Fiddler, and so his mind was still a few miles away. He put the violin back carefully and turned back to the new man. "You look familiar... Have I seen you before?" has his next question. Being new to town, and to the school, meant that he had met quite a few new faces, but couldn't remember all of them.

[OOC: Got classes, sorry for short response.]

[Vincent Meian]

"You are welcome, and yes, I do," the taller man answered, holding up the case in his hand. From the scarred digits hung a very battered and old case, one that had seen decades of weather, transport, and moves. The black finish on the case had been reapplied numerous times, but patches were still worn in the hard leather, especially around the corners and one clasp (which had obviously been replaced years ago). By the size, it was meant for a violin, though he did have a similar case at home for his viola as well. "I came here to replace the strings that broke over the holidays. I am fortunate they survived until now."

"I am a teacher at the Hammel Institute," Vincent stated, nodding his head in assent. "I also live nearby and frequent the town regularly. And you?" He didn't recognize the younger man, though the Japanese man hardly faulted himself for it - most people tended to travel under his radar (so to speak), and he was as new here as many others. He'd only just moved to Pilot Ridge at the start of the school year.

"How long have you played the violin?" Other musicians were always of interest to Vincent, especially considering the prevalence of unusual instrument types and styles in the Western world. After working with some Americans while he was in the military, he'd learned how to actually play the fiddle style on his violin. Currently, it was his favorite way to play.

[Christian Lucas]

"Ah, a teacher. I recently began working there myself." He knew a few faces, but everything was still new to him. He made a mental note to remember this man. He seemed friendly, and Chris did have troubles at times making friends.

In response to the other man's question, he gave a slight shrug. "I was put in lessons when I was about eight. So a while I suppose." He had always loved classical music, and its ties to the arts, but so the violin was a natural choice. That and piano, and later in life he'd even learned how to play guitar so he could do the role of Roger in "RENT" once.

"I don't suppose you know where any of the employees are? It makes it difficult to purchase anything without one," he said with a slight chuckle.

[Vincent Meian]

Vincent nodded, making his own mental note to commit the other man to memory. "I see," he answered genially. "Do you work with the students as well?"

Given that the younger man seemed in his mid to late twenties (though with European people, he found it often hard to tell), the taller man calculated that he'd been playing for almost twenty years. Frankly, it made him feel a little old, but then again a lot of things did that. Actually, if he judged the man's age correctly, the Japanese trainer had probably been playing longer than Christian had been alive. He said nothing about that, though, and merely commented, "That is quite impressive. Few continue for that long."

Glancing about, the older man shook his head. He did not see anyone else around at the moment. "Perhaps they will appear if we move to the counter." The trainer had his items in hand; he was ready to restring the moment his transaction had been completed, even if he would likely not play until he returned home.