Little Songbird

"oh... do the sticks break easily?" fins has held a lot of sticks in his hands, of course, but never a drum stick specifically. he's thinking of something off the ground, or off a bush, or off a tree. they all seem so brittle around here that he isn't certain he could mind his own strength. "or... um, do the drums? sometimes i can be a little heavy-handed. i wouldn't want to break anything you have."

"Drum sticks, not without a lot of effort." At least in her experience. It would probably take him less effort, but he strikes her of somewhat of a gentle giant more than anything. "Though, maybe we'll put a pin in the snare drum. I think the other one would be harder to break, and all you have to use is your hands." She wiggles her fingers for show.

Dodge's dark eyes flick subtly, watching Bea's face as she seems to replay the concert back through her mind. It's curious how serene she looks even after the duress of a performance: when he thinks of a siren, all that flashes across Dodge's vision are images of frightening creatures lulling sailors to their deaths, mouths contorted with their beautiful and snarling lullabies. Bea just doesn't match it; in fact, she's almost pleasant. "Intimate spaces also make it easier for things to go wrong, Beatrice," Dodge can't help but interject, "but I'm happy the performance went according to plan. Do you have your next scheduled?"

The exasperated sight and head shake can be heard round the world at this point. She was sure she'd run her team off soon enough with her ridiculous requests and insistence to get up close and personal with the rest of the city despite the fame she had gathered within their community. "Well, that's why we hire security like you, Mr..." She trails off, prompting him for his name. "But, yes. I do. Not for a few weeks. Within only a handful of artists in town, I don't want them getting too sick of my voice. Plus, I'd like to get some writing done soon or I'll get sick of my own voice."

"It's -- it's okay, I understand." Petey didn't exactly know if there was such a thing as true fame in Sol City, but the musicians and actors in Sector Nine were always something to be marveled at. "I, uh -- yeah, getting stared at can be uncomfortable." They used to hate it! But they had gotten very used to it! Yes, little child, I do have a duck bill and a beaver tail! "I just, y'know, don't see the more... 'famous' Sector Nine artists that much!"

Bea's biggest issue in life was the fact that she was always ready for a fight. She wouldn't say she assumed the worst in people, but she did assume the worst in most situations. "It's part of the job now, I guess, but I haven't settled with it yet." Frankly, there was a chance she never would. "Well, you can check one off your bingo card. Happy to help. What's your name?"

"i would like that," he says, even relieved by the idea. he's never been good at anything just by starting out, and it's nice to hear that he won't be the only one stuck at the beginning. "um... yeah! that sounds nice. i would like that. what's the difference between those?"

"Well, one you play with sticks, the other you play with your hands. The one you play with your hands just a special kind of box essentially. Snare drums are more classic. Like you'd see most people play in a show and stuff. It's usually part of a bigger kit, I just don't have one." Bea's pulling some of these explanations out of thin air, but it's not like he'll be able to correct her yet.

"oh," his eyesdon't actually get wider, lidless as they are, but the sentiment persists. "oh, i wouldn't. i would never do something like that. i'm not that kind of person, i promise!" making fun of people is the last thing in the world he ever wants to do... perhaps especially if they're not good at something. he knows how that feels deeply. "maybe a big one?" he suggests, trying to be helpful.

"Don't worry, I trust you. We'll kind of get to learn together." She knew enough to struggle through some rhythms, but was unskilled in the artistry of percussion. Who knows, maybe he'll be a regular genius with it. "You're probably right, a big one is the move. But I don't think starting you out with a whole set would work, it might be overwhelming. Maybe a cajon or a snare drum or something."

fins can't help the grin that overtakes his face. some moments are too exciting for his careful self-control. "oh, i would love to! i've always wanted to be able to do something like that." play music, that is. create art. he's got so few avenues for it, but the soul of who he is yearns for the experience. he's human, too...

Bea smiles and nods. Music was a way of life in her settlement. Even if it had been years since she was there, it lived on in it's own way. Music was a right, not a privilege like it was here. There was a way for everyone to participate. At least she could bring a little of that to Sol City. "You just can't make fun of me if i'm not very good," Bea jokes. She's not sure Fins posses the capability. "We'll just have to find some kind of drum to start you out with."

"it doesn't have to be far!" he points out, trying to be helpful. "even if you just want them moved into another room. i would be happy to do it for you." but he has to stop and consider her suggestion. maybe there would be something out there he could play... not with strings, of course. drums seems like a safe bet. "maybe... i've never tried it before. do you know how to play drums?"

It's so genuine coming from him, that even Bea can't help but smile a little bit. Most people were just trying to impress her or get in her good graces. But, Fins really only ever wanted to help. "Not... super great. But, that's okay, I know enough to teach you some simple stuff if you ever wanted to learn."

"Oh -- oh! -- sorry, I didn't mean to, uh..." See, it was not uncommon for Petey to be the victim of a lingering pair of eyes ( not in the 'good' way ), but they had grown rather numb to it. However, to realize that they had been a lingering pair of eyes? (Albeit, for a much less... insulting reason.) "Sorry, I just -- I really like your work and I didn't know if I could, uh, approach you or if that would be rude or..." Well, they supposed she had approached him, right?

"Well, I only bite if you deserve it." She had learned quickly what her voice could do, and even faster how to control. The hypnotic effects were saved for desperate measures. Not for earning recognition throughout this one settlement she had landed in by chance. "Sorry to get snippy, you can never be too careful."

Dodge isn't excited to be distracted from his post, but he spares Beatrice a quick glance out of the corner of his eye at her comment. "Thanks," he says a little flatly, not sure if she's intending to compliment or insult: still, she's Beatrice Liang and he's just part of the security for her event, so he's at her mercy regardless. "If it's worth doing, it's worth doing right. Did you need something, Miss Liang?"

"Just got bored is all. There's not a lot happening back here." There never was. While she was grateful that she got to preform for a living, it was all a bit... lonely compared to what she knew before. "You know, you really don't have to call me Miss Liang. Save that for my Mom. I prefer Bea. Beatrice if you really want to be formal."

"i could carry some of them for you," he ventures, always eager to be helpful. and carrying things around is one of the few things he's good at, anyway. "i don't know how... i've never tried before. i think my hands are too big." bringing his four-fingered hands up, it's easy to see why. they're a little big even for his size... let alone anyone else's.

"That's nice of you. If I ever need to take them anywhere far, I'll let you know." She had replaced most of her instruments, though they lacked some of the deeper sentimental value. "Nah, I don't believe that for a second. I'm sure there's an instrument out there you could play. What about the drums or something?"