phoenixfalling | (no subject)

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All too often Kim got lost in his own thoughts. Since his own thoughts were almost always of music, he found himself lost in the random soundtrack of his own life at times. Headphones in as he walked downtown it started with just a nod of his head and graduated to the tapping of his hands on his jeans to the beat of the music. A short time later and the rest of his body followed suit and he was half-dancing, half-walking along the street.

If he had been aware of it Kim would have been mortified. In his everyday life he did his best to not draw attention to himself. If he could be invisible, that would be awesome. Unfortunately that wasn't the sort of thing he was capable of.

He didn't even notice what was going on until he was rounding a corner on the street and almost ran into someone also turning the corner. Kim quickly skipped and spun out of the way to avoid the collision, feeling his stomach sink when he realized what he was doing.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," he said, pulling off his headphones and holding out a hand to steady the person he had almost run into. "I- I'm so sorry, I, uh, I wasn't looking where I was going."

[Be the person he almost bumped into or just witness him dance-walking down the street.]

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Adrian laughed when the guy took hold of his arm. "It's no big, really. Considering I've been caught twice walking naked into my own shop, bumping into someone dance-walking down the street is relatively minor in comparison. Must be some song."

The guy was right, dance-walking was relatively minor in comparison but Kim wasn't sure if that was exactly comforting if "getting caught naked in your shop" was where the bar was set. Still, he was glad that he didn't actually knock into the guy or anything.

"Yeah, it's, uh, it's really good. And you must have some shop?"

"Music isn't music if it doesn't make you feel like moving," Adrian nodded, then pointed down the end of the street. "Yeah, I run Siren Cove Ink just down the block. Only ink, though. I don't have anyone else, so I can put ink in your skin, but if you're looking for metal and holes, I can give you the name of a good shop in Portland."

"Oh, uh, I don't want any body modifications or anything. I do like tattoos though," he said. The ones on his arms and shoulder were all he had but he thought about getting more, maybe ones that weren't hiding the spells he had.

"I usually get mine in New York. I didn't even know there was a shop here..."

"You're welcome to come by, check out my portfolio," Adrian offered, "at the least might save you a road trip. I've been here for about three years now and do a pretty steady business."

He looked at the guy, trying to place the face. "Are you new here?"

"Cool, I will, and I can show you the stuff I've had done," he said. Right now he had on a shirt that covered everything up and he wasn't going to just start disrobing to show his tattoos.

"I grew up here, actually. But I've been traveling for the past couple of years, I just got back a few weeks ago."

"I look forward to it," Adrian smiled, "I love looking at the work others have done, and only partially so I can feel all superior about how I could have done it better," he added with a teasing grin.

"There seem to be a few people coming back home after being away," he commented. "Just visiting or to stay?"

"Well, maybe you can come up with something better for it? I have, well, I have a skin condition," he said, glancing down a bit, like he was embarrassed to talk about it. He wasn't exactly, it was just hard to talk about being a siren to people that weren't aware of it.

"It makes the ink fade really fast. And I plan on staying for a bit so it would be good if I had someone that could touch up a design regularly?"

Adrian was a little concerned about the skin condition and made a mental note to ask more about it before he loaded up his needle to make sure the inks he used wouldn't exacerbate it. "I'd be happy to help out with reinking any time. Shop's open Monday through Saturday, so stop in when you get a chance and we'll talk."

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Wren isn't paying attention; he's in his own head, which is pretty normal for him. Carrying groceries in one arm, thinking up the second layer to a song, contemplating the town and the stories he knows and the strange things he's seen since he's been here, noticing architecture: his mind is always moving.

So it shouldn't be a surprise, but of course it is, when he turns the corner and nearly slams into a young man thoroughly getting into his music. He instinctively shifts his weight backwards, years of performance and some inherited Sauvageon grace a virtue, but he doesn't really have to: the young man darts away in an almost choreographed gesture.

"No harm," Wren says calmly. "I've been known to get involved in what I'm listening to. Nice moves, there." He can't help but smirk a little.

"Oh, thanks," Kim said, feeling a bit sheepish. The guy's appearance is almost as much as a surprise as the fact that he wasn't upset at all at Kim almost running into him. There weren't a lot of people in Siren Cove that looked like this guy did. Kim saw way more of them in New York but they weren't generally this polite.

"I, uh, I've got some experience dancing. And not watching where I'm going, unfortunately. You sure you're alright?"

"I've been through much worse," Wren says. "Though if you'd knocked down the groceries, it might have been a different story," he adds with a small smile. Wren really only has two modes of reaction: relatively relaxed and interested, or cold and calculating. Someone not watching where they're going isn't worth the second of those.

He tilts his head, relatively sure there's something familiar about the young man's face. He makes a concerted effort not to consume a whole lot of the most recent pop media -- it's far too easy to get that stuff stuck in your head when you're composing -- but between that and the dancing, it strikes a chord. "Professional experience?"

"I, uh, I would have bough you new groceries," Kim said. It would have been entirely his fault so of course not he would have replaced them but he was still glad that he didn't have to. He did make a mental note to be more careful in the future, someone else might not have been so understanding.

"Yeah, a little bit of musical theatre stuff and then hip-hop for fun just so I don't look completely stupid if I ever have to go to a club," he said. It was more than that, he loved pretty much all types of performance on the stage, but most people in Siren Cove looked at you weird if you told them you were a huge musical theatre fan.

Wren is more laidback than he looks, but he suspects strongly that that's a level of niceness that will get the young man taken advantage of one of these days. "Well, I'm extra glad they seem to be in one piece, then." He shoulders the bag.

He laughs. "Nice. I haven't managed to catch a play in -- a long time, but my mother's a dancer, I grew up loving anything with costumes and a stage. Though I think I probably still look stupid in a club, my strengths are personally on the musical side of things."

"Yeah?" Kim asked, brightening a bit. While he could dance and was okay at it music was really his passion. Singing, playing, composing, mixing, any and all of it was what he really loved. Siren Cove didn't exactly have a really hot music scene though, which was unfortunate.

"What kinds are you into?"

Wren nods, relaxing immediately into talking about what he loves. "I love music, I taught myself guitar when I was little and haven't been able to stop since. I don't think I have one kind I like to listen to -- classical, orchestral, electronic, punk, noise, anything I can get my hands on - anything as long as it really reaches down inside you, you know? There's good and bad in every genre. The kind I make is mostly pretty synth-heavy, though. I like playing with found noise or seeing what instruments can do that you might not expect."

"Do you ever play here?" he asked. Kim loved listening and watching others play almost as much as he loved doing it himself. With all the different types of musics this guy liked Kim was willing to bet that he played some pretty interesting types of music.

"I know there are some open mic nights and stuff. We have some pretty talented musicians here."

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The kid takes the corner too quickly, knocking into her hand which- she swears- slow motion flies upward. Bracing for impact she let out a gasp as her iced coffee tipped and spilled all over her white shirt. Standing there dripping in coffee, Keira blinked as she flicked off coffee drops from her hand.

"No shit sherlock," Keira muttered, pushing the books she was carrying into his chest. "Fuck, I liked this shirt. This shirt made my boobs look awesome, also Kaitlin had yet to steal it. Winner all round."

"Oh no! Oh no! I'm so sorry!" Kim said, eyes going wide in horror as he clutched the books to his chest as he saw what he had done. He thought he had dodged in time but he had only managed to spill the coffee all over her, making a huge mess.

"I'll- I'll pay to have it dry cleaned, I promise! And we can go right now and- and I'll buy you a new one to wear today! I'm so sorry!"

He clutched at her books, looking like he was going to go into a minor meltdown over the damned coffee. Raising an eyebrow at him, she began to undo her buttons before pulling the thing off. Looking down at the ruin that was the shirt, she swore as she realised it'd soaked right through to her vest.

"Ahuh, too damn right you will. Come on... vaguely familiar person, you forgot to add and I'll buy you a replacement coffee too." Keira muttered, pulling at his sleeve to indicate he'd better start walking with her and fast. "Just be glad I'm not the kind of- "Keira muffled a letter that started a word as she adjusted her top. "-itch who takes things personally."

"What- what do you want first? Coffee or a shirt?" he asked, not sure if she was going to say 'bitch' or 'witch'. Either way he was pretty glad that she had been nice about it all. Or at least as nice as he could expect someone to be. The fact that she thought he was "vaguely familiar" was not good, but that was easy enough to pass off. All Asian's looked the same, didn't they?

"And I'm really, really sorry. I- I just got really distracted by the music."

"Shirt, definitely shirt. Because as much as I love standing around in a vest, it's getting nippy." Keira replied, meaning it in more ways than just the one. If she had to stand out here any longer then she was probably going to poke someone's eyes out. "Ahuh, I can tell. Was it anything at least good that you just had to streetdance to?"

"Do you want my shirt?" he said. Kim would definitely feel stupid walking around shirtless and his tattoos would attract attention but it was his fault this girl was without a shirt and in the cold. He might not be allowed to go into a store with her if that happened but he could just give her some money to buy a new shirt.

"And, uh, yeah it was good. I think it was good."

"Yes, because that would not draw anyone's attention at all. Keep your shirt, I can deal with it." Keira replied dryly, snagging his arm and tugging him towards the nearest shop that didn't sell tourist shirts. He'd ruined a nice shirt, he was not replacing it with a t-shirt that read 'I went to Siren Cove and all I got was this lousy t-shirt' or one of the weird rude mermaids being fucked in their 'coves' ones. "You going to tell me what it was or was it truly embarrassing?"

Kim was silently relieved that she didn't want his shirt. While he'd been perfectly willing to give it to her that didn't mean he'd exactly wanted to. Maybe he should buy her two shirts or something to show how grateful he was, or would that be too much?

"It was the Temptations. Um, Ain't Too Proud to Beg," he explained. "It's an older song. 1966."