warmeryouth | And I'll Walk Slow. {Open}

In the wake of the destruction of the beach, Bailey's tended to stick to the boardwalk. There's a light breeze running through the air as he meanders between shops, taking in the atmosphere and enjoying the relative calm before school starting next week. Jesus, he can't believe he's going to be a teacher. But genuine delight floats throughout him like sea foam, alongside the nervousness; this is one of his many dreams, and he's achieving it.

He has his iPod in as he walks, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, and he's singing out loud to himself, along to one of his favorite songs. Perhaps, as the blush in his face might suggest, he is thinking of a certain Irish woman with a gift for clay as he walks; the spring in his step also suggests so, as he moves in time with the melody of the song. Sure, people give him funny looks as he passes by, but he doesn't let that bother him.

As he sings, he does indulge in one aspect of his powers a bit: he exudes cheer and good-will through his voice, and so, while those who encounter him initially stare at him as though he'd grown an extra head, after a few moments, they, too, find themselves smiling and feeling as though at least some of the burdens on their hearts have been lifted.

OOC: Find Bailey on the boardwalk, singing to himself and bringing general good cheer to those who pass him by. Feel free to have your character affected or not as you see fit; a great time to meet him, he's in a great mood!

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Brigid turned the levers to shut down the kiln when the last cone fell and put both hands at the base of her spine, arching a little in counter pressure. She checked the time on her phone and nodded. Time enough to go out and get a breath of the sea air while she waits for the oven to cool enough for her to check the freshly fired pieces.

Hair in a pony tail high on her head with tendrils escaping everywhere, cutoffs and tank top splattered with clay and feet bare, Brigid walked out onto the boardwalk and stopped against the railing to look out at the horizon.

Bailey is so wrapped up in his music, particularly, the song he's currently singing, that he almost walks into Brigid as she comes to stand out on the boardwalk. The color of his cheeks brightens when he recognizes her, especially when he considers how cute she looks covered in clay and with her hair up in a ponytail like that.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," he apologizes as he takes out his earphones. "I didn't see you there."

Brigid laughed and steadied herself by placing her hands on his biceps. "Ye were in yer own world there, and enjoyin it quite a bit from what I was hearin," she smiled up into his eyes, "and the day I mind a handsome man bumpin into me, is the day m'life stops bein worth livin."

He ducks his head into a smile at the hand on his arm, pleased by her touch. It was always such a thrill, running into Brigid, especially on such a warm, lovely day; the sunlight seems to highlight the brightness of her eyes as she laughs. "Yes, yes I was," he admits. "Coming from such a pretty girl, you're going to give me an ego."

"Who's givin who an ego," Brigid responded with another bright smile, not in any hurry to remove her hands or move away. "Ye know, this is the first time I've heard ye sing, and ye do have a beautiful voice. Powerful too as I started smilin the second I heard it, and not just because I've a fondness for the group."

Truth told, she had a fondness for the man in front of her. One that was making her smile at odd times during the day as she worked.

"Thank you," he tells her, especially pleased that she likes his voice. He realizes that, though he's only really just met her, he values her opinions immensely, especially about something as personal as his voice. He relishes her hand on his arm, the warmth of it seeping through so as to make him feel as liberated as though he were digging his toes into the sand. "I'm glad you like it."

He pauses, considering.

"Would you like to maybe deliberately run into each other one of these days?"

Working with her hands as she did, Brigid was a tactile person. She touched and she hugged - something that often got her into a little bit of trouble when she invaded personal space of someone who didn't want that invasion. Thankfully, Bailey didn't seem to mind the step into his space, or the hands on his arms, and she was glad for it. Tactile was one thing, but she loved the feel of his arms under her hands.

His question pulled her back from introspection into the moment and her eyebrow rose as her eyes met his. "Are ye askin me out on a date, Bailey?"

"I, er, yes," he says, flustered at the question and the answer both because yeah, he did want to ask her out but he didn't realize how much so until after he'd asked the question. He smiles at her, unable to help himself. "That is, if you want to?"

"I would like nothing more than t'step out with ye, Bailey," Brigid answered easily, her heart fluttering delightfully in her chest as well as an answering one in her stomach. She hadn't felt this way about a man in quite some time - nervous and excited at the same time. Attraction, sure, for a few here in Siren Cove, but not this. She found she liked it almost as much, perhaps more.

"Did ye think I wouldn't?"

"Well, I didn't want to assume," he says with another sheepish grin. Now that she's accepted, he has to actually think of a potential date spot. But he ignores that for the moment, in favor of his heart and stomach doing some complicated dance together at the thought of going out with Brigid. "But I'm glad you did."

"I'll admit there's somethin more than a bit appealin about a man who doesn't take his own appeal for granted," Brigid commented. "Should be warnin ye though, that I've not been on a date in quite some time. I fear I may be a bit out of practice so I'm hopin ye'll bear with me if I stumble."

"I know the feeling, I assure you," he tells her with a sheepish grin, recalling his last date back over a year ago, now. "So we can both bumble and fumble along together. It'll be a learning process, yeah?"

"Sounds an absolutely lovely evenin t'me," Brigid nodded. "A bit refreshing, I think, not t'be th'only one on unsure footing."

There was excitement in her belly of the sort she hadn't felt in a very long time, not even when she'd boarded the plane to fly from Dublin to America.

"I hope it will be," he tells her, his stomach now more in knots than it had been for the first day of his job.

"Reckon I should be gettin back t'my wheel before m'boss starts chuckin paintbrushes at me for laggin about," Brigid smirked, knowing Kennedy would do nothing of the sort, "and I should let ye be gettin back t'yer walk and serenadin those lucky enough t'be walkin with ye."

And I'll Walk Slow. {Open}

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