2986/NYU Cheers

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NYU Cheers
Date of Scene: 19 August 2020
Location: NYU Kimmel Center
Synopsis: Alex makes up a silly nickname for Dawn
Cast of Characters: Alexander Aaron, Dawn Granger




Alexander Aaron has posed:
    It was stupid.
    A stupid idea. Really.
    Not quite the same as Happy Harbor. Though that was a fun time. Those were the days. Hah.
    Nostalgic thoughts flit through the mind of Alexander Aaron as he stands in front of the gymnasium, his lip twisted with a wry smile, though if one knew him they'd realize it's more a self-deprecating one. For he's standing in front of that gym in the middle of the day as classes transition behind him.
    Students walk at pace back and forth over the quad, some taking the time to sit at the benches or have some lunch or snacks while they can until the next scheduled classes kick in. For most it's a time to sort of hang out and get the feeling for the pulse of the school there in the courtyard. And, to be fair, for Alexander it is much the same.
    Because right now he's standing in front of the bulletin board, reading some of the flyers there but also a particular one that's large and made of professionally printed poster-board proclaiming in a prominent font, 'CHEERLEADING TRYOUTS!'
    So for some reason Alexander is standing there, smirking that smirk and looking to the place beyond where they're being held. And with a small tilt of his head he rubs at his chin. "I mean, why not?"
    Which has often been the downfall of many a man.
    So it's toward the gym he walks, because indeed. Why not?

Dawn Granger has posed:
A towel around her neck, white-blonde hair sticking in tendrils to the sweat that beads her forehead, a young woman duck walks to the bleacher nearest the door. She sits legs splayed, graceless, and exhausted after three hours of a NYCB workshop.

Not knowing anyone has become the norm for her, she looks up, wiping her face as people start filtering in for the next class. They don't look precisely like dancers or not ballet dancers, with their short shorts and bared midriffs. With a shrug, she undoes the ribbons of her dirty pink toe shoes, which she places in the bag next to her. Too tired to move, she leans back against the bleacher sipping tepid water from her water bottle, wandering what the next class was going to be.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    It might become more apparent with small tell-tale hints that start to show up as they get ready for the tryouts. There's a folding table that's brought into the gym with the legs opened, clicking into place. There's a group of three young women who bring in some folding chairs and set them down as well. One of them has a portable stereo while another sets down a box that apparently holds...
    Pom-poms?
    Yup, pom-poms. Most of the people there, waiting patiently in the bleachers but not quite near where Dawn is, more up front on the lowest row, some of them settling into nice rows. All of them are dressed to move, to dance or exercise it seems. And then, of course, is the sign that's taped to the front of the table that says simply.
    'TRYOUTS TODAY! :) :) :)'
    There are mostly women in those bleachers, young and attractive, though some are more physically fit than others. It's all a fairly conventional sampling of people interested in the sport. Though there are some young men there. A handful, all of them are sort of cheerful and smiling though obviously nervous.
    Except for...
    That one guy across the way, with the blond hair who is slouched a bit in his seat. There's no tension in his body language, no pensiveness. He just seems subtly pleased, that smile on his lips a curious thing that matches well with his pale eyes. He's wearing shorts, and a t-shirt that proclaims his fealty to the ESU Bulldogs Athletic department, but beyond that there's little to remark upon.

Dawn Granger has posed:
Tryouts today. Tryouts. It takes a minute, Dawn is not totally devoid of American culture, after all she'd been visiting her grandparents every summer since she could remember. The house on the lake in the Blue Ridge mountains was beautiful but they didn't have a television until three years ago, listening to games on the radio was not enough for her grandfather any longer.

Cheerleaders. She sits up, amused and bemused, feeling like she has been dropped onto another planet. The American planet where trying out for the cheerleading team is a big deal. Sitting up she pays more attention to her surroundings, recovering fast from the class with robustness of youth and her powers which leak into her daily life a little more each time she calls on them.

Not many men trying out, some of the body types would be never be dancing classically. Her eyes rove over them, stopping from time to time, a coal black woman, powerfully built is an anomaly among the slender types. The blonde, the insouciant blonde, she dubs him doesn't have a dancer's build, per se but not all men dancers are built alike.

Ducking her head, she slides her feet out of the shoes, peeling off fluffy wool from a bloody toe, checking a band aid before a discreet shake of powder preliminary to sliding on socks then a pair of She sighs with relief. Toe shoes hurt.

Dawn Granger has posed:
Tryouts today. Tryouts. It takes a minute, Dawn is not totally devoid of American culture, after all she'd been visiting her grandparents every summer since she could remember. The house on the lake in the Blue Ridge mountains was beautiful but they didn't have a television until three years ago, listening to games on the radio was not enough for her grandfather any longer.

Cheerleaders. She sits up, amused and bemused, feeling like she has been dropped onto another planet. The American planet where trying out for the cheerleading team is a big deal. Sitting up she pays more attention to her surroundings, recovering fast from the class with robustness of youth and her powers which leak into her daily life a little more each time she calls on them.

Not many men trying out, some of the body types would be never be dancing classically. Her eyes rove over them, stopping from time to time, a coal black woman, powerfully built is an anomaly among the slender types. The blonde, the insouciant blonde, she dubs him doesn't have a dancer's build, per se but not all men dancers are built alike.

Ducking her head, she slides her feet out of the shoes, peeling off fluffy wool from a bloody toe, checking a band aid before a discreet shake of powder preliminary to sliding on socks then a pair of Converse tennis shoes - bright blue. She sighs with relief. Toe shoes hurt.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    The insouciant one isn't dressed like most of them, to be fair. There's a certain exhibitionism going on with many of the people making that attempt at the tryouts. Their clothes are revealing, if one considers workout clothes revealing, and many do. But there's a definite vibe of... cultivation to some. Even some of the men have dabs of makeup and highlights to cultivate their features.
    But that one blond, he looks like his hair hasn't even seen a comb for a few days. Maybe a week!
    Then some of the women behind the table get up and they start to talk, making hand gestures that are so very serious and their words don't carry too well to where Dawn sits. But the sentiment is clear behind it. She could almost imagine the monologue from that old tv show. What was it? Fame? Fame costs! And here's where you start paying!
    That said then the first contestant comes up, she chooses her music, and then heads on out onto the gym floor to do her routine.

Dawn Granger has posed:
Dawn stops gathering her things up to leave. The music makes her grin. Loud Flo Rida -Jump was not what she was expecting. This might be fun to watch. A reach into her bag brings an energy bar out, high calorie. She's burned enough in the last three hours to make her stomach feel like it is meeting her backbone.

Truth be told, she is no longer has the prima ballerina build, the last few years have seen her blossom into a strongly built woman, well-endowed, small waisted but lyre shaped. At five foot nine she is taller than many of the male dancers. No matter, she had given up dancing the month of the terrorist attack and she's at peace with it. Trying to be discreet, she finds herself staring at the boy, well, the man, with the odd colored eyes. He stands out among the other students.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    It's a steady cavalcade of activity that she's witness to. Each person is given roughly 2-3 minutes, and they're asked for their music choice. Sometimes they do a quick dance routine, sometimes they do some tumbling. While the judges, they'll confer. And, to be fair, they seem to be at least marginally nice and polite.
    Though there is one moment when one of the larger girls, looks like a soccer player as she's wearing that t-shirt for ESU and has that athletic look to her, where one of the judges asks her.
    "Have you ever even touched a pom-pom before?"
    "Well, no."
    "What makes you want to be a cheerleader?"
    "I thought it would be fun!" The tall soccer girl with a smile that's a little too large answers.
    "We're not about fun here, dear. I mean we have fun. But we're not about it. Riiight?"
    That gets some nods from the judges back and forth.
    "Some of our people, they go on to make a living with their cheering. We have Margaret." The vocal judge, dark of hair with a severe expression right now, she looks at the other judges who also nod some more.
    "She's with the Cowboys. Dallas. Perhaps you've heard of them?" The judge girl has a way of drawling out the last word of each sentence, making it last roughly twice as long as it should.
    "Well, I understand, but thank you for letting me try out."
    "Oh sure thing, yeeeeah."
    And with that the tall girl is sent on her way.
    "Ok now some of the boys?"
    One of the judges leans over to the raven-haired girl and whispers something which causes them all to giggle and one of them sort of pushes the other on the shoulder as she says in a whisper that's loud enough to be heard, 'Stop it, you're so bad.'
    "Ok. Alexander Aaron? Hah, must be nice having that name for role call."
    Which sees that blond youth pushing himself to his feet.

Dawn Granger has posed:
Oh, Dawn knows the look on the judges faces, she is close enough to catch the micro-eye rolls between them. Cheerleaders have nothing on ballerinas for meanness. But these women for all the drawl and fame of being with the Cowboys, she doesn't hide her smirk, strike her as small-minded.

She forgets her critique when Alexander Aaron is called up. Quite a name but it doesn't fit his face, his face deserves another name, she decides. A thoughtful frown purses her lips as tries out fanciful names.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Hortense? Bertrand? Hunter? No none of those fit him. Yet he's still standing there. Alexander Aaron.
    He'd come down from the bleachers and stopped in front of the cheerleaders. And, to be fair, some of them smiled at him. But the judges sort of shared a few looks back and forth and quirked eyebrows at each other. One shrugged, another shook her head. That left the raven-haired judge to sigh and look back toward the blond Olympian as he stood there looking, ok kind of cute, but not really what they're looking for. And so, she tells him as much.
    "Hey Alex, how are you doing?"
    "Good."
    "So, you know we're looking for a few male cheerleaders too, it helps us with pyramids and for launches. Very important, though we usually look for..."
    One of the other judges finds her voice, a blond girl though with her roots showing a little. "Taller."
    They all nod, "Yeah, a bit taller. We usually like guys like pretty well past six foot, right?"
    The judges all look at each other.
    Which has Alexander sort of tilting his head a little. And, to be fair, he is shorter than a few of the other more burly of individuals. But it's clear some of the other male members are looking a little uncomfortable as they're not quite as tall as Alex either.
    "I was just hoping to try out a bit, if that's cool."
    He says that easily, voice calm and level.
    "Yeah, no." Says the raven-haired girl, "I mean. Have you ever been a cheerleader before."
    "Well, no. I did try out once."
    Sensing blood in the water the judge leans forwards, resting perfectly manicured nails on the table, "Oh you didn't make it? I'm so sorry sweetie."
    "Oh, no. I did. I just sorta. Decided not to do it?"
    Which causes them to stop. To look at each other, then to flip the clipboard a few times to look at his application. "Oh, Happy Harbor High School? They're not really 'known' you see."
    To which he answers, "I suppose."
    "But that also raises a concern, riiiight?"
    "It does?"
    "Yes, if you turned them down and were given the ok to join, that must've been embarrassing for them."
    The other two judges nod, "Yeah, really embarrassing."
    "So we're going to have to give you a big no, Alex."
    To which the youth looks at them, then up towards the bleachers with the people watching, then back to the judges and he blinks and shrugs.
    "Okay." And with that Alexander's career ends as he starts to walk back to the bleachers to grab his backpack.

Dawn Granger has posed:
The interview, if you could dignify it with that word, confirms Dawn's opinion of the judges. Small minded. Standing up behind the judges, she says loudly, loud enough to carry over the temporary rise in voices around the gym as they wait for the next contestant. Her voice rings sharply in the room, her accent too crisp to be American.

"You never even saw what he could do. That's not judging," she takes a step down from the bleacher on to the floor. "That's some weird version of how you think the world should be. No matter how many cheers you do, you'll never be any smarter."

Shouldering her bag, she gives Alexander a commiserating look and starts for the door, blocked by onlookers.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "It's a matter of mass, miss smart-ass!" Says the raven-haired girl as she turns in her seat, eyeballing Dawn sidelong. "If he was bigger and stronger, maybe then. But it's science. I know these things."
    Then she straightens up and points at Dawn, "And you just lost your tryout chance. Get out of here."
    Which, as that most dire pronouncement is passed, the other judges nod solemnly at this response. Because clearly Dawn was wanting to be a cheerleader too. Because who wouldn't want to be?
    "Next! Blaire Evans?"
    And with that the next guy sort of shoots a glance over at Alexander and then Dawn, but he hops down to the floor of the gym and starts over to take up his place.
    As for that blond kid he's walking backwards toward the door and sort of half-smiling in Dawn's direction. Then he calls out something entirely non-sequitur that might make sense only to him as he yells, "Yeah! And what about Scarecrow's brain!"
    Which has people looking puzzled as he slips on outside.

Dawn Granger has posed:
"Smart ass, is it? You never even gave him a try. He looks strong to me." She slips her bag to the floor and points at the boy walking backwards. They've mistaken her black leotards for try out clothing, even the blue Converse shoes fit the bill, which she never finished tying.

"Catch me, Alexander Aaron. Then lift!"

If he doesn't get it quickly enough Dawn may be nursing more than broken pride. Rising on point, she can do it barefooted, but she has no desire to hang around these bitches long enough to take off her shoes, she moves into a classical pose. Called the l'attitude, arms over head gracefully aligned with her back and arched torso, making a line with her supporting leg, behind her she lifts and bends her leg. She switches legs which propels her forward, then switches again, the movement propelling her into his arms. Hopefully for him to lift her by the torso into the air so that she appears to fly.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    It's a gamble that's for sure, because hey at a glance he looks like any teenager you'd imagine sitting in the basement playing video games while occasionally puffing a breath to those bangs that hang in his eyes to clear them out of his vision. Maybe munching on some cheetos. So perhaps in mid-leap Dawn might well have second, and perhaps third thoughts.
    But she makes it look easy, elegant even with her cons on and her casual /leap/. She spends a moment in the air, then starts to drop down...
    And she'll feel his hands upon her waist, catching her in mid flight, and then with a half-grin even as she's hefted in his arms she's /tossed/ up into the air where if she's quick enough on the uptake he'll catch her with his hands under her feet. A rather nontraditional catch and launch that if all goes well leaves her standing on his raised hands ready to ask everybody if they're, 'Ready? OK!'

Dawn Granger has posed:
Three quick steps might change her life forever. But since the explosion that propelled her life into an unimaginable direction, she takes leaps, measuring the risk with a mathematical precision that takes minutes to describe, but are made within a second's thought.

He surprises her. Thirteen years of ballet gave her the lift to allow him to catch her; she knows the moment his strong hands enclose her waist that he has the strength to catch her. Everything slows for her as she rises higher than expected, straight up, higher and higher until she perches on his hands. Superb control and balance keep her there. They look like they have practiced the move for weeks together. A flex in her knees telegraphs that she is waiting for the launch. "Okay!"

Launched by the strength of his arms, she does a forward flip, breaking her landing with a spring which flows into a bow. No need to tell them what her expression clearly says. "I wasn't trying out, ladies. Good luck with your judging, you wouldn't know an athlete if they punched you in the face." With a swoop, she grabs her bag and turns to leave.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Yeah, what she said," Alexander offers in perfect counterpoint, at least to his thinking. But with that he's moving to the doorway out of the gym and jogs a few steps to catch up with her, his hands sliding into the pockets of his shorts and his stride easing up as he gets near.
    Leaving the annoyed cheer corps behind, the blond youth tilts his head to the side and says, "You know I wasn't really. Like. Miffed." Since apparently it's important for her to know.
    They reach the door, he shoulders it open, then once again the middle of the day greets them, though less students now since the transition between class hours is over for the most part. But there are still a few people in that quad socializing and gadding about.

Dawn Granger has posed:
Dawn is launched into the day, half expecting to turn around and not see him. Those bitches had made her so angry though she's not sure why she took so much umbrage for this stranger with the odd eyes. His voice stops her mid-stride, she pivots and takes a step back.

"Really? Ah. Okay." Her eyes narrow as she scrutinizes him a moment then shrugs. "That was a very good catch. But...yeah. I knew you could do it."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Yeah," Alexander says as his lip twists up a little, those pale bluish-green eyes slipping back towards the gym, then he looks back to her and gives a small shrug even as he adjusts the hang of his backpack. "It was sort of a whim, to be fair. I sorta wanted to do it, but do I have like the time to do something like that if they wanted me to?"
    He bites his lower lip thoughtfully, then shrugs as he looks back toward her. "I mean, it'd cut into my netflix and youtube browsing time, right?" His lip twists.
    "So umm, you know my name. No point in me introducing myself." Which is true, she does. Since she used it. Alexander Aaron, all loud in that gym.

Dawn Granger has posed:
"Cut into your Netflix and browsing time? Okay." She duck lips a smile, head tilted to one side signaling good humored disbelief.

"Oh, right. Dawn. Dawn Granger." Pointing to his shirt, "You've got to be a student here. I mean, the shirt and all."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Yup," He says with that way of his, sort of looking at her and a lil through her but smiling a bit all the while. "Not only are you a great cheer-leader, you are the Adrian Monk of Empire State."
    That said he gives a single nod and then starts to walk along, but not really aiming to /go/ anywhere per se, since his day is basically over. He stops a few steps ahead, turning around to walk a bit backwards, perhaps pondering where she might be headed off to with the way he glances one way... then another.
    "Dondon Granger. That's a kind of interesting name." The way he keeps that straight face it might not be clear if he's joking or not, though with the way he was in the gymnasium she might have the impression he's not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. Then again he doesn't seem to be going to too much effort to dissuade her.

Dawn Granger has posed:
"Dondon?" It takes three seconds, she leans into him, rising up on her toes and then drops back, laughing hard. "Yeah, I mean, no. It's Dindon. Yeah." She flashes him a grin, not explaining her joke on him. "My friends call me Dove. Not nearly as movie star as Alexander Aaron. Well, Mr. Alexander Aaron. I'm off to get something to eat before I drop. You have a nice day." She looks down, one shoulder lifting, some of her ebullient confidence leaking away, "You really did do a good catch."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    As she leaves he lifts a hand to give a wave as he offers his reply, "Yeah, I am pretty great." That said he smirks a little, steps back a pace, two, then turns back around and starts to stroll off into the rest of the world, trusting to fate to let it bring what will.