The sound of fireworks and visitors awoke Arturo from his sleep. A groan escaped from his mouth, making everything less dark for a second. He opened his eyes and rubbed at them, getting the bits out. He laid there for a moment simply looking up at nothing. He sighed and rolled out of his cot lazily, thumping against the floor and laying there for a while making sure the wood was still rotting away at its normal pace. It was hard but giving, old. He'd have to get new floorboards for his carriage.<br/><br/>Arturo pushed himself up from the floor and reached for small fiddle that had been placed on his desk, just within reach. His hand grasped the instrument while he bent down to the floor once more and retrieved a precisely placed bow. Without hesitation, he started to slide the bow against the fiddle, producing a sharp but sweet sound. He held the note for a while, letting it tell him where everything was before he put the fiddle and bow back in their previous positions and retrieved his clothes.<br/><br/>He slid into a pair of gray trousers with a matching gray coat over a white shirt. He walked quickly, though carefully, through his room and laid his hands on a long strip of cloth hanging from his door. He frowned as his hands felt the texture, it was not the right color. He wanted white. He moved his hand to the right and felt a more silky cloth before a small smile crawled to his face. He quickly picked the cloth up and started to wrap it around his head.<br/><br/>Arturo walked out of the carriage and was paid no mind by the Townies being entertained by the more flamboyant acts. The cracking of fireworks had stopped so it was a good assumption that he was at breakfast. And if he was at breakfast, perhaps the others were. Either way it was of no matter, his stomach was almost yelling at him to get his ass moving towards the food cart. He hefted a violin up to his neck and started to play a melody that while intricate always came back to the note he had played on his fiddle earlier. With his violin as a guide, Arturo walked through the crowd as they parted before him, like servants to their king. Some of them followed him, simply listening to the music pouring from his instrument.<br/><br/>As he made his way toward the food cart, he could feel Enzo approaching rather fast. Probably leaving after being jabbed at again. Arturo slowed down his pace while his hand stopped for pause before running the bow back and forth into a new tune, slightly more cheerful and very much soothing. He couldn't see Enzo's face but he could tell the many was wounded in pride, again. His song carried pleadings of calmness, not commands but simple requests. Arturo didn't like commanding anybody unless the situation was dire enough to warrant it.<br/><br/>His song returned to its original form as Arturo came closer and closer to the food carriage. He walked up to the open front being manned by Pearl. "<span style="color: DarkSlateBlue">A piece of bread and a coffee, black, if you please.</span>" His nose crinkled up as he smelt the smoke from all the cigarettes. "<span style="color: DarkSlateBlue">And perhaps a pastry, something that smells nice.</span>", he added in quietly so the others would not hear. He didn't want to make his distaste for those sticks known, they may make him smoke one God forbid.<br/><br/>When his received his food he was forced into a rather comedic balancing act between holding his coffee, bread, and pastry in one hand while holding his violin and bow in the other. He produced a low humming sound as he walked, trying to hear his way to a chair. When he found one he desperately sat down, sighed with relief, then propped his instrument against the chair and went to work on his meal. He killed off the bread first before munching contently on his pastry, a smile coming on his face as a couple of crumbs stuck to his chin and lips.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>