Memories

A Toy Faire wasn't really in Prysm's usual wheelhouse. Toys were stupid, both in practice and as a whole concept. Like, you picked up a toy... what did you do with it? None of them were little kids. You couldn't play pretend. You just ended up looking at it or going through the motions. It was all some trap to get Buns lost in nostalgia so they would be more willing to spend Carats. To recover some lost childhood innocence they were too desperate to go without.

Yeah, toys were super stupid.

He hadn't actually be out for this. The toy faire just happened to be in his way to the grocery store. The bag was clutched to their chest and rattling around with goods. They glared at anyone on the crowded street who got in their way as they trudged back towards their small home.

Other Buns smiling, laughing, picking up dolls or games or, occasionally, the more adult offering. It just had Prysm rolling his eyes at the pathetic displays of the others around him.

A quick stop by a booth to allow an obnoxiously large group to pass....

"Would you like to test one out?"

Prysm snapped his head around, snarling his lips up and a nasty retort about to be spat back into the other's face.

It was just a kindly older woman, hunched and wrinkled as she sat in her chair. Her booth was smaller than the others, more tucked away. Less flashy. What she had on the table was... violins. All different shapes and sizes, different colors. They weren't new, per se, but the sheen on the bodies and the fresh strings pulled tight showed they were well taken care of.

Prysm's face softened from a snarling animal to more annoyance, whatever vitriol he was ready to spit dying in his throat.

They hurt to look at.

One caught his eyes more than the others. It wasn't as flashy, tucked away in the corner, and was more worn than the rest. While the others were part of a collection this one was well loved. It was also familiar, nagging at him enough to cause a flash of cold to shiver up his spine.

The same as the one he...

"Fine."

Barked out, Prysm dropped his bag on the table with a THUNK and picked up the violin.

It fit under his chin just how he remembered. The draw of the bow over the strings was a little out of sync; a quick hiss and tuning saw it sing sweetly. His fingers danced over it slowly, muscle memory taking over in hitches and jumps to find the right notes. A scale that got higher and higher.

Prysm started to play a song. It was sad and sweet and longing. Closing his eyes, he could almost feel it again.

The hot spotlights beaming down on him. The stage under his feet. The hush and awe of the crowd as all eyes were locked onto him. A thrill, of knowing all he had worked hard for was....

Ruined.

The bow hits a discordant note in the middle of the song, his eyes flying open. A small group had gathered around him, looking confused at the sudden stop. His heart leaped into his throat, beating rabbit fast, as he placed the violin down like it had burned him.

The old woman knits her brows as he grabs for his groceries again. Prysm holds them to his chest like a lifeline and shoves his way through the crowd. His head lost in another time he couldn't get back, either.