Cryptic comments and misunderstandings hurrah

[helpthehurt]

"The uniforms...sing. Supplication and sundering, stout and steady...many hearts come through these halls but they all turn the same way in the end. The learning is less important than the feeling."

...Is the kind of thing Cole mutters as he wanders the halls, following people around with a look on his face like he's about to spill a really personal secret about whoever he's looking at. Someone should probably collect him.

((OOC: Cole has a form of limited mind-reading which basically amounts to him saying extremely vague things about someone's personal pain because he wants to help heal it. Let me know if you ain't cool with that!))

Comments

[helpthehurt]

"Poetry...helps. It takes words that can only be beautiful together and frames them, like colors on a painting."

[roses_are_blue]

Oh. Hello. Garry took a look at this interesting fellow and found himself...nodding his head in agreement. He could get behind this man, this man spoke good words already. It was impressive

"I see," he said, warmly. "That's actually a very pretty way to put that too. There is an art to it, just like painting."

He also liked that hat. He really liked that hat.

[helpthehurt]

Cole smiles -well, the corners of his mouth tick up for one moment- and pats his hat, before continuing.

"Art is...harder. It brings joy because it's supposed to...you have to pretend if it doesn't."

[roses_are_blue]

It may be odd to get into a conversation like this with strangers, but Garry neither noticed nor cared. Cole was promising himself to me more fascinating the more he spoke. To think this all started with Cole sputtering what could be perceived as random and out of place.

But Garry thought it was unique and it wanted him to know more.

"No but I think," Garry started, being the art teacher now he had to be as realistic and true to the values of art, in his eyes anyway. "Art is subjective. There will be someone who never likes your art or your art makes someone upset. But none of that should stop artists from expressing themselves. Whether through paint or words."

[helpthehurt]

"It festers, frustrates...builds up and hardens hearts if it can't get out. Art is is better out than in, even if it dissipates in the air. You understand a lot about it. It helped when you needed it. She was impressed."

Cole feels like this is helping him understand his artist friends. Cole wants to return the favor.

oh no i love them

[roses_are_blue]

This conversation went from strange in a cool way to strange in a confusing way. It got Garry to halt in his tracks. He never met this man before today, or even seen in a distance. So who could he be talking about, and about what? This gent with a cool hat had to be mistaken in some way.

"I'm sorry?" Garry asked. "Who was impressed? What about my understanding in art?"

Another surrogate parent for Cole!

[helpthehurt]

"Red, blue and yellow...three roses in a vase but only two can fit. Don't pull any more petals off, I'm begging you! It might wilt on it's own, how can I know it won't?"

Cole concentrates very hard on Gary and then steps back with a nod. "She was glad you returned her handkerchief. It meant you remembered."

[roses_are_blue]

Thankfully, Garry wasn't carrying anything, lest it would've fallen on the floor.

No one knew about that. He had told no one, as no one needed to know of all that had happened. So how did this man know all of that and even put it into bizarre poetic context? Garry couldn't even be upset, he was too shocked and floored to be.

However, while Cole added a positive note at the end, Garry couldn't help but shiver at the memories of ripped petals.

"I..." Garry stuttered with a wide eyed expression, "...You, how did you?"

[helpthehurt]

"It sings...Pain but...tied with happiness. Woven together, like a sheet. I could not unravel it without destroying the whole thing, but it is there. I see it, clearly."

Cole seems to think he's explained it as clearly as possible. Gary's reaction wasn't anger, so he's clearly doing very well.

[the_blue_rose]

Garry still wasn't angry, no sir. But more and more, well, confused.

"Stop, stop, stop..." Garry somewhat softly muttered. "Hold on, slow down. Stop."

He knew he said that about four times right now, perhaps it was a sign of some panic. Probably.

"Listen to me for a moment, how do you know of this?"