Name: Saya 'Strings' White Age: 22 Gender: Female Orientation: Pansexual Occupation: Bartender, illegal violinist --- Saya White wasn't a flashy person, not usually. She didn't like to stand out on a day-to-day basis, but she did what she had to do when it was needed. Generally, she preferred to blend in with the crowd, to stick to the shadows. There was probably some sort of irony, then, at the fact that she spent so much time putting herself in the spotlight. But, it didn't really matter. It was a means to an end - the means to changing things, the means to bringing music back into the world. And music was what was really important. It gave meaning and colour to this grayscale world. It gave Saya life. And she figured that was good enough reason as any to put herself in the spotlight, like she was about to do. She walked down Dowler Street, hands shoved in her pockets, looking as nondescript as possible. She had her hood pulled up and her head down, and wove in and out of the crowd seamlessly. If there was one thing she was undeniably good at, it was not being seen. Quietly, she slipped down a shadowed alleyway. No one took any notice of one less person on the main road. Her foot splashed in a puddle as she made her way down the alley. She passed a few people lying together, huddling for warmth, but no one bothered to so much as look at her. As she approached the end of the alley, she pulled a black gas mask from her pocket and strapped it to her face. The alley came out at a small courtyard, unremarkable and hidden, yet strangely popular. People, mostly poor students, milled about, drinking cheap coffee and enjoying the sunlight. Saya stifled a sigh. Did any of them care about music? Did they even know about it? In any event, they would soon. She hesitated a moment, keeping herself hidden in the mouth of the alley, watching. There were no police in the area. That was good. That meant their information was correct. Her eyes flicked to the cameras in the area. She really hoped they were off, as planned. Taking a deep breath, Saya pulled her hood off and strode into the courtyard, now letting herself be noticed. She walked to the dead fountain in the center of the courtyard, and stood on the ledge, pulling her violin from the bag on her back. A few heads turned, eyes widening at the sight of a musical instrument. Then, Saya began to play. The tension in her shoulders relaxed as she lost herself in her music, her bow gliding skillfully over the strings.