The Balladeer grins immediately, not at all bothered. "Sure! Let me just - oh, y'know? Give me a second."
He walks to the edge of the roof - the one over the porch, not out above thin air - and crouches down to get a good grip on the edge before dropping himself over. "I saw an instrument in here!" he calls merrily from inside the house a second later. "I was going to come back and have a better look anyway."
A minute later he ascends again, hoisting himself up through a few nearby branches. He's always been pretty good at climbing; sometimes when they get the weird abandoned fairground, he just ditches everyone else and scales the Ferris wheel. You can sort of pretend there's a sun from up there! There's a guitar on his back now, strap tightened against the climb, but it's a short enough climb that it isn't much of a hindrance.
"Ooookay..." He plays a few chords, adjusts a few knobs, but it's already pretty much in tune. Fair enough; it's a dream instrument. The Balladeer nods to himself, then launches into one of his more upbeat ballads. It's a little funny performing it for an audience of one, all by himself, but he just does a few different voices where the locals would ordinarily chime in. He thinks it works!
Well, except for the usual gunshot and bells. But that's a dramatic touch that - while effective - he's fine with leaving out.
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He walks to the edge of the roof - the one over the porch, not out above thin air - and crouches down to get a good grip on the edge before dropping himself over. "I saw an instrument in here!" he calls merrily from inside the house a second later. "I was going to come back and have a better look anyway."
A minute later he ascends again, hoisting himself up through a few nearby branches. He's always been pretty good at climbing; sometimes when they get the weird abandoned fairground, he just ditches everyone else and scales the Ferris wheel. You can sort of pretend there's a sun from up there! There's a guitar on his back now, strap tightened against the climb, but it's a short enough climb that it isn't much of a hindrance.
"Ooookay..." He plays a few chords, adjusts a few knobs, but it's already pretty much in tune. Fair enough; it's a dream instrument. The Balladeer nods to himself, then launches into one of his more upbeat ballads. It's a little funny performing it for an audience of one, all by himself, but he just does a few different voices where the locals would ordinarily chime in. He thinks it works!
Well, except for the usual gunshot and bells. But that's a dramatic touch that - while effective - he's fine with leaving out.