2019-11-16 - To Sing or Dance

As the early evening progresses and the Autumn night starts to fall a mix of people hang around the boardwalk in their jackets and sweaters, enjoying the faded light of the slowly creaking wheel near the end of the pier. Addy /certainly/ isn't dressed for it, with a ratty vest holding what looks to be a half-dozen ripped shirts and tank tops in place just underneath. It doesn't seem to bother them, though, if they notice it at all, their gaze wandering slowly over the bay as they lean back into their heavy travel backpack, situated right at the edge of the pier. The sound of some quiet melody escapes from the ukulele they play, slow and relaxing.

Cole strolls along the boardwalk, his last class having let out for the night, but still feeling restless, and not feeling like going home. He wears a pair of comfortable jeans and a dark blue sweater over a white long-sleeved t-shirt, hands in his pockets as he wanders along past the booths and the lights. With the Masquerade over, even those tourists that had come into town unseasonably late have drifted off, leaving mostly locals to haunt the boardwalk. It's the sound of the music that draws him, as he gets closer, eventually coming to rest against the railing not too far away, just listening, but not interrupting.

Addy is more than happy to oblige, whether or not they know it. In fact, they seem completely lost in their own world at the moment, their tangled hair blown abruptly out of their face by the Autumn winds. If they play any song in particular it isn't followed exactly, the quiet strumming missing some aspect of its low end. That too doesn't seem to bother them as their half-covered legs swing in the air over the edge of the wood beneath them. Then, after a pause, they glance down to a small cup at their side and begin quietly singing--almost inaudibly at first.

Cole continues to listen for a time, his head tilted just a little bit as he looks out over the water which is mostly just reflections in the otherwise dark surface. There's something quiet, calming, about the sound of the music and the way that it meanders around the songs, familiar and unfamiliar all that once. He notices the cup, and glances toward it to see if it is for tips, not wanting to put a tip in someone's coffee by accident. And if it is, he approaches and drops a few bills from his wallet into it with a quiet, "It's nice to hear music out here."

Cole's approach likely reveals two things, the first, most obvious, is that there isn't anything coherent about the way Addy sings--the noises a mixture of quiet hums and complete gibberish. It's not particularly good, either, but that doesn't seem to bother them in the slightest. The second being that the cup beside them isn't empty, nor is it filled with coffee. It's filled about three-fourths of the way with tightly packed dirt, the cup's lid tucked underneath the thing where it sits. A grin finds its way onto Addy's face when Cole speaks, a friendly thing that lingers for a moment before they turn their attention to the man, their words soft, "It's nice to play music out here. Especially with such good company." With that, they glance down to the cup, seemingly to indicate /it/.

When Cole sees that there is dirt in the cup, and not coffee or tips, he doesn't reach for his wallet like he'd planned to, instead seeming taken aback a little bit at finding the cup to be filled with .. dirt. He looks at it a little more closely, as though perhaps expecting to see a plant growing from it or something. When Addy calls the dirt company he asks, "Are you singing to a plant? Are you growing something in there?" It seems the most logical explanation to him, and he's admittedly curious.

That question seems to leave Addy positively delighted, that friendly grin turning into a bright beaming thing as they momentarily press the bottom of their ukulele against their thigh, "I am. It's--not the season, but hopefully it'll end up this beautiful yellow little one. Almost like a sunflower." They pause, gaze lingering on the cup for a moment before they slowly draw their fingers over the strings in front of them. It's likely a little more clear what has the sound off from this distance, the C string is missing entirely. "I'm Addy," they finally add as a way of introduction to the standing man.

Cole smiles when it is confirmed that the little cup of dirt indeed contains the beginnings of a plant. "Sounds pretty," he says when the plant it might become is described, looking at the cup as though envisioning it for a moment or two before his attention shifts back to Addy, themself. "Cole," he says by way of introduction, standing back far enough so that they can converse without Addy having to crane their neck too much to see him. "I should get some plants for my office. I don't know why I never thought of it before."

"You really should," Addy offers back quickly as they reach over to return their ukulele to its nearby case, "They make great company. They're very good listeners and they never judge you for being silly or too loud or too quiet. And they appreciate it when you sing, it makes great practice." The ratty case closes with a snap before Addy drags it back away from the edge, their fingertips lingering momentarily as they draw them slowly over the front. "What's your office for?" They eventually ask before turning their attention back up to Cole, a patience overtaking them as they draw their hands back into their lap.

Cole smiles a little bit crookedly and says, "I'd probably just talk to them. I'm pretty sure that no one wants to hear me sing. I'm a dancer, not a vocalist." Then he explains, "I took over the dance studio downtown -- Dance Evolution. I teach ballet." He nods toward the instrument and says, "My art's more in motion than in music, though I love to listen to others make music."

"You might be surprised," Addy starts quietly as they reach out to pick up the cup and affix the flat-topped lid back onto it, "Having them around enough might just inspire you." They pause, smiling fondly down at the dirt inside for a moment before sliding it into a external pocket of their travel backpack, making sure it's fixed firmly before their attention turns back to Cole, "They like dancing, too. Especially if you have a partner. I think they like watching us have fun. You should see how they grow when the wind picks up and they can join in." Their left hand shifts across their body as they run it up and over their tattoo'd arm, eyes tracing down after it for a moment before they ask, not looking up, "Do you like ballet?"

"Maybe," Cole says, apparently not about to dismiss it entirely out of hand, but there's a definite degree of skepticism over him developing any musical stylings. "I live with a whole band and they haven't even managed to get me out to karaoke yet," he chuckles. The idea of the plants liking dancing seems to amuse him just a little bit, though he shakes his head and says, "Most of the time I practice on my own, when I'm not teaching. Though I do have students that I do some partners work with." He glances over at the ink, noticing it when Addy's hand travels along their arm. The question causes him to smile, and he says, "I love ballet. I was a professional ballet dancer.. for a little while. I like teaching it to others."

Addy seems satisfied with those answers, willing to let the matter of the plant preferences go as they smile at Cole's latter response. Their arms are almost entirely covered in a variety of different pieces--all of different styles, qualities, and sizes, though curated in some chaotic way. Ranging from stick-n-pokes to /extremely/ professional large works, the only theme they seem to hold consistently is something natural with no other requirement whatsoever. "I'm glad," they eventually say, taking a moment to flip their right arm over again before locating a series of faded black circles crudely poked into the bottom of their arm, "I'd like to stop by sometime. I don't have any money, though. Would you be willing to trade? I can clean or help around the studio or--or find you some plants, if you'd like."

Cole doesn't look at the ink for too long, mostly noticing, but not staring. His own skin is completely covered from neck to ankles and wrists, so if he has any ink of his own, it's not visible to the casual observer. He slips his hands into his pockets and leans one side against the railing. "You're welcome to stop by any time. And you don't need any money to come by. But if you'd like lessons, then sure, I'd be willing to make a trade of some kind -- either help, or both, or help with plants."

"Perfect," Addy says, simply, in return, smiling again as they look back up to Cole to show it proudly. It fades back into a kind of neutral comfortable thing as they glance back down to that tattoo, "I haven't danced much. I made a friend in Oklahoma who loved to dance, though. She and I spent a lot of time dancing with the trees." A smile momentarily flashes back onto their face, this time a wistful thing, before they reach down and press their hand against the boardwalk and pull their legs up underneath them, criss-cross, "Do you have many students? People here seem a bit sad, even the ones that glow. I think they could probably use more dancing."

"Anyone can learn to dance, and if ballet isn't your thing, we do have other instructors who teach other types of dance, too. So, you should come by and see sometime," Cole says with a little smile. "Sounds like a fun friend. I've met a few people in town who dance. Some of them come by for lessons, and some of them just come by to rent space in the studio to practice. There are lots of kids in the children's classes, fewer adults -- but still, some." He smiles a little bit, perhaps sadly, when Addy mentions that people around here seem to be sad, even when they glow. "Sometimes, glowing isn't exactly easy. Sometimes it can be hard. But dancing definitely helps."

"No it isn't," Addy offers back, nodding slowly as they pull their lips momentarily to the side. But it doesn't linger. Instead they turn their attention back up to Cole's eyes fully and offer him an excited smile, "I hope the kids keep doing it. I know that parents sometimes make them, but if they enjoy it I think it can be really important. I think I'll like ballet. It seems--quiet. Comforting. I don't really like loud." They pause, taking in another cold Autumn breath before asking, "Are you from here? Do you know where I can find a garden? The more flowers the better."

"You can usually tell which ones genuinely enjoy it, and which ones are there because their parents are forcing them, and those who are there because they think they should do it to make their parents happy," Cole says as he considers some of his students in his head. "I try to make it at least fun and interesting for those who feel they /have/ to be there, and challenging for those who have a true love of dance. It takes a little class juggling and creativity, but I try to give them all something." He shakes his head just a little bit when asked if he's from around here. "No, I moved here a little while ago from Boston. I know that there's some wooded areas, but I'm not sure about a garden."

There's a quiet appreciation that holds on Addy's face when Cole describes the classes, their head eventually dipping down into a firm nod, "That's good. I hope they appreciate that. I know I would have. You sound like a good teacher, I bet Boston misses you." They pause for a moment before moving to rise, right hand grasping at the edge of the boardwalk while the other idly pulls a half-torn red shirt that only covers their chest down, "Gotta keep looking, then. Not much time left for them, either, before it's too cold. Thank you very much, though."

"I'm trying to be," Cole says and then smiles faintly about Boston missing him. "Yeah, I know it does." Though there's something definitely sad in that statement, as though he means less "it" and probably some people in particular. He straightens up from the rail, himself, when Addy gets up and says, "If I find out where there are any, I'll take down the information and keep it at the dance studio for when you stop by. It was nice meeting you, Addy."

"Very nice meeting you too, Cole," Addy offers back with another smile. They pause a moment to carefully affix their travel backpack to their back before picking up their ukulele case and starting off with a little finger-wagging wave, "I'll find you soon. Be safe, I hope you're happy." And with that, they start back up the boardwalk, quietly returning to town.