#FUCKING JAZZ MUSIC !!

[sophsun1]

+ bonus:

Interview With The Vampire + Daniel being horny for Louis

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

Some thoughts while I'm watching Nerdy Prudes Must Die for the first time:

After the Big Game, something that's been itching my brain for a while came back- Clivesdale. Hatchet Town is reinforcing this, but since Black Friday and Honey Queen the Clivesdale hate has really started to stand out to me. Yes it's a funny gag, but the Hatchetfield disdain for Clivesdale is straight-up cultish. Laura Cunningham (I think was her name?) had lived in Hatchetfield for 15 years, but was entirely excommunicated when it came out that she was from Clivesdale. Keep in mind, she was well-liked enough to be a Honey Queen candidate. Two teenagers are brutally murdered and everyone is more focused on the loss against the Chemists. Even people who hate Hatchetfield like Emma and Ziggy hate Clivesdale more. The general population of Hatchetfield is so feverish. I know that the Wiggly doll riots happened all over the world, but holy SHIT it didn't take any time at all for Hatchetfield to totally cave in on itself!

Here's the other thing that gets me- has anyone ever really left Hatchetfield? Anyone who wanted to?

•Emma Perkins has exactly one life goal- not to die in Hatchetfield. Her entire life had been, up until Jane's death, about getting away from Hatchetfield. She is officially pronounced dead after the explosion at Starlight Theatre, though she survived in Clivesdale Hospital. She only lived for a couple weeks after "dying" in Hatchetfield. She also dies almost immediately after returning to her hometown in the events of Forever and Always. She does not die after the fire at her weed farm, but she is arrested and presumably imprisoned in Hatchetfield.

•Frank Pricely is imprisoned by Sherman Young after his attempted escape.

•Alice Woodward dies in The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals before she can leave for college. In fact, she dies after skipping the bus to Clivesdale

•Lex and Hannah Foster (along with Ethan Greene) have plans to escape Hatchetfield and head to California. All of them die before they can even get past Nantucket bridge.

•Zoey Chambers wants to win Honey Queen for the funds to get out of Hatchetfield. In both Honey Queen and The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals she dies before she has the chance to leave.

•Jonathan Brisby attempts to retrieve Lucy Stockworth from Hatchetfield. Brisby dies in the woods, Lucy disappears in the same woods with the Woolyfoot.

•Jenny and Andy planned to move to Clivesdale, but Jenny dies before she can leave, and by the time Andy becomes Andrew Killgore he's back at CCRP in Hatchetfield. Obviously this is wobbly because of timeline shenanigans, but it's implied that Ted didn't actually cross timelines during the events of Time Bastard, just fucked around in his own a lot.

There's just something. There's something about Hatchetfield. It's like a black hole. If it wants you there, and it does, you always end up there, and it's not likely you'll leave a second time.

Something about the ambient affects of the town absolutely fascinates me, I've been thinking about this stuff for like 5 years and it's not gotten old to me yet

[szaryherbatnik]

I was thinking about what kind of music frost might enjoy. And the part of me that thinks im funny strongly believes its those "alpha beta waves frequencies to study and focus to" where the thumbnail looks like this

Also in my head gideon would enjoy a genre of music id describe as truck rock.

[amymbona]

Why is this picture so Chicago the musical coded, look at my lawyer dawg I'm gonna get naked 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏

[thevioletcaptain]

Way back in 2013, from opposite sides of the planet, @deathbycoldopen and I started exchanging Supernatural meta & DeanCas fic on Tumblr. We became friends, then a long-distance couple, and then in 2019 I moved to Los Angeles from Australia when we got married.

My entire DVD collection is still in storage back in Melbourne, which means I’ve been subjected to the wrong music and the whims of internet nonsense for almost five years.

Anyway, this is what they got me for my birthday last week, and I simply had to share along with the note she wrote because, y’know. The deancas of it all 🥰

Wild to think that we wouldn’t even know each other if not for this show.

[kayvsworld]

fun mcu buckytony tunabucket fact of the day they both play piano. thank you mcu for this fun canon buckytony fact

[shhhsoftnwet]

No worries everyone! They’re just having a bloody good time and spilling ketchup everywhere 😀🥫

[whaliiwatching]

the shore was kissed by sea and mist… tenderly

—

big inspired by this post <3

[that-ari-blogger]

What's The Point Of A Chorus Anyway? (Loser Baby)

Hazbin Hotel has a structure to it lays out its songs. Each episode has two, with one set piece and a supplemental number to get information across in an entertaining manner. For example, Welcome To Heaven is supplemental to You Didn’t Know, and Happy Day In Hell is supplemental to Hell is Forever. Naturally, this is subjective, as importance varies on reading, but you can generally tell.

However, episode four gives us Poison, a showstopping tune that brings the house down. The type of song that feels like a finale to a story. But it’s the first number in the episode, which means something is going to try and outdo it, and what could possibly do that?

Enter Looser Baby, a song that sets the bar for what the entirety of the series is, condensed into just under three minutes.

Let me explain.

CONTENT WARNING (Vulgar Language, Mention of Sex)

SPOILERS AHEAD (Hazbin Hotel)

Not every song has a repeating chorus, or even a chorus at all. Sometimes there is a refrain, but often there is nothing, and this isn’t a bad thing at all.

Bohemian Rhapsody, for example, has either no chorus, or six different ones, adding to the jumpy thought process of the song. Meanwhile Bitter Sweet Symphony has nought but a consistent riff and a bridge to nowhere creating a feeling of momentum.

Hazbin Hotel has done this before with Stayed Gone, which is symmetrical, but presents no chorus to speak of.

This is actually really simple to explain, but more difficult to examine in detail. The chorus is the most central idea of a song. The audience remembers it the most and highlights its importance purely because of the number of times they are shown it, although musical cues might also imply significance.

For example, Beneath the Brine, by The Family Crest, takes on an operatic tone to discuss a tumultuous relationship, and how it handles personal struggle. This is a song about love drawing you to a person, and then getting caught up in their own downfall and being unable to stop it. It presents itself as a crossroad, does the perspective character delve into the wreck, or do they cut their losses now. As such, the chorus feels painful, like the agony of severing something that was part of yourself.

“Oh young love, young dear, why have you taken me in your fall? All of my love, all of my life Given to you, sacrificed!”

The lyrics give a thematic statement, and are repeated to reenforce that idea, hence why I’m calling this the chorus. But the song itself changes around this to show the song evolving. Each time, it gets more expressive and adding more and more melodrama to itself.

It's becoming the centre of an opera, a theatrical piece, too emotive to be real, too painful to complete. Add to that the progressing difficulty of the vocal performance and you get a song that keeps coming back to itself, keeps begging the question and never truly answering itself.

A chorus is the central idea of a song, you get setup and payoff elsewhere, but if you need to remember something, you remember the chorus.

It's also the term for the backup characters who don't have names. The crowd is the chorus. This is thematically relevant to what I will say later.

Obviously, it is more complex than that, as all things are in life, and I’m sure that those who know more than me would be happy to explain that in the replies.

In pub songs and folk music, for example, the chorus just exists to be memorable for everyone to sing along to. Sosban Fach’s chorus is simple.

“Sosban fach yn berwi ar y tân Sosban fach yn berwi ar y llawr A’r gath wedi huno mewn hedd.”

Or, in English:

“A little saucepan is boiling on the fire A big saucepan is boiling on the floor, And the cat is asleep in peace”

You may remember this as the “silly saucepan song” that keeps getting mentioned in Howl’s Moving Castle. The chorus is fun and booming. You belt it out with mates at a pub or at a football game.

But the song is actually about stagnation and the passing of time, as such, the chorus reminds us how little things have changed and ends on an upwards inflection to set up the next verse. You may also notice that it is morbid as all hell. The only constants in life, according to this song, are overwork and death. Welcome to Wales.

All this leads me to Looser Baby, a song about redemption, in a weird way. It’s not about lofty ideals, just community, and companionship.

“You're a loser, baby A loser, goddamn baby You're a fucked-up little whiny bitch You're a loser just like me You're a screw-loose boozer An only one-star reviews-er You're a power bottom at rock bottom But you got company”

The chorus does change over the course of the song, reflecting a developing idea, so we’ll start here, with a subversion.

Loser Baby opens quietly, and soulfully. Husk is reaching out to Angel and checking off what upset him. You are expecting reassurance, everything is alright, things aren’t actually that bad.

In short, you’re expecting the type of advice that Charlie gives, and hold on to that idea for a moment.

Instead, Husk flips the whole thing on its head and gives us the song’s titular theme. Yes, everything is fucked, but it’s like that for everyone else here. You need to have solidarity with your fellow human beings, or demons, or… you get the point.

That is actually an important element of jazz music, the community of it. Once again, this is more complex than a Tumblr post can go into, but in short, there’s some history here that carries over into the theming of the song.

According to Jazz Observer:

“The beginnings of jazz actually date back to the 19th century. New Orleans was home to Congo Square, a space where slaves would gather and play music. That tradition started a bit before 1820, and it brought together people from a wide array of countries, each introducing a bit of their nation’s unique sound to the mix.”

In other words, Jazz arose amongst the downtrodden as a way of keeping culture alive. It became a melting pot of ideas that were outside of the mainstream, and if you associate the genre with shady bars and speakeasies, there’s a reason for that. The music was created as a means of subversion and community amidst oppression.

Subversion and community amidst oppression? If that ain’t sound like Hazbin Hotel’s entire deal, I don’t know what does.

There is a jarring tone shift in the first chorus as drums are introduced along with brass instruments and a general sense of fun. The song feels like it’s being improvised as it goes, allowing for individual expression withing a general plan. Everyone has their own story, but it's being put together to form something greater.

That vibe continues into the verse, which mentions opening up and that sense of community again, but I’m focusing on the choruses, and so the second one of those goes as follows:

“We’re both losers, baby, we’re losers, it’s ok to be a…” “Coked-up, dick-suckin hoe?” “Baby that’s fine by me.” “I’m a loser, honey, A schmoozer and a dummy, But at least I know I’m not alone” “You’re a loser,” “Just like me.”

Once again, the solution isn’t that none of the bad things matter, it’s that it’s ok to be going through them. Losers together.

That’s why Angel sings along in this chorus, we’re opening conversation, and he’s realising what the theme is of the story he’s in.

Linking back to the instruments here, I mentioned briefly in my post on Poison that the electronic synth feels fake to me. I don’t mean this in an “it’s not real music” way, because listen to the song and tell me with a straight face that that ain't music. I meant that the synth is artificial, there’s a human element that has been forcibly removed.

Even the percussion is electronic, meaning that the only emotionality in this song is Angel himself. He’s blending in and the pitch perfection of the vocals mean that everything about him is fake, until he breaks down.

The last verse of Poison hits so hard because he is alone against an unfeeling backdrop.

Side note, this is why the Poison AI covers annoy me more than usual. Not only is it theft, not only is it cheap and effortless, but it misunderstands the point of the song.

Loser Baby is truly the opposite of this, with a ton of instruments giving the vibe of a full band backing up the characters. Husk brought friends to this, and they are all here to lift up Angel together.

Angel adds his higher vocals to this, but also his vernacular. “Schmoozer�� isn’t a word typically associated with jazz, it's Yiddish, a pseudo-Hebrew language that was common among American mobsters and is still very popular in New York. Fun fact, the word “bagel” comes from the same place.

As such, we get that melting pot that is this song and jazz in general. Everyone adds their unique vibe to the larger motif.

“You're a loser, baby” “A loser, but just maybe if we…” “eat shit together, things will end up differently”

Everything is cut off abruptly, except for that piano and the drums.

I do love that little tap of a hi-hat, because on the one hand, it’s establishing a rhythm and reminding you all that everyone else is still here and running up to joining back in. But on the other hand, I can’t help but visualise it as accidental. Like the drummer clipped it as she leant forwards and has to pass it off as an intentional decision. To me, that makes the song seem more human and especially more fallible.

The visuals also simplify here. No longer are we on the street, but something more symbolic. Husk is sheltering Angel from the rain, sitting alongside him and enduring the world together. The two are taking comfort in each other.

“It's time to lose your self-loathing excuse yourself, let hope in, baby Play your card, be who you are” “A loser, just like me.”

We’ve brought in the full band for a finale, and added one more instrument, kinda.

“Ooooooooooooh”

I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.

In seriousness, Angel has become part of the group. He’s backed up by everyone else and is now lending his own voice to theirs. He doesn’t get outshone by anyone, he’s not fading into the background, he’s just making the music denser.

He’s playing his card and being who he is. He’s accepting his flaws and trying to improve on them, rather than pretending that they ain’t there.

Here’s my argument, then: I think this song is the chorus of the whole musical.

We’ve had our thesis statements, but this is the thing you need to remember. Everyone is fucked up, everyone is a loser, and they need to bear that together. Community, introspection, and hope.

Remember what I said about Charlie? She’s optimistic, she looks at the bright side of things. My reading of this series is that it is fundamentally about the difference between optimism and hope, and that that difference is something Charlie learns over the course of the story.

I’ve seen a few public figures (whose names I will not give because I think they are eejits) wax philosophical about how hope is fleeting. As someone who grew up in Wales listening to songs like Sosban Fach, I want to firmly disagree.

If it’s fleeting, it ain’t hope. Hope looks to the future, a time that notably hasn’t happened yet, and tells you it will be better. Optimism looks at the present and finds something nice in it. You cannot disprove hope, you cannot say that a future will not come to pass, no matter how unlikely, because you can’t know.

By the same ticket, the nihilist idea that the world can’t get better has been disproven so many times. The world has improved again and again and when there have been hardships, there have always been people who will get in the way of that and work to oppose them. Grimdark isn’t reality, the world may not be kind, but it is fundamentally good. And those things that make the world worse can be changed, progress has been made in the past and is continuing to be made now.

Hope has wings, but it also has talons.

That’s what redemption is. It’s not looking at the bright side of sinners and ignoring their flaws, its making work towards getting better. The musical as a whole is about doing that together.

Essentially, if we eat shit together, things might end up differently.

Final Thoughts

I write these in Microsoft word before I post them to Tumblr, because I don’t trust the draft feature of any website. Ao3 has burned me too many times before to allow for that kind of mistake. However, one caveat of this is that the application can’t comprehend the phrase “power bottom”, which makes me laugh.

On a different note, I am not a Husker Dust shipper. Don’t get me wrong, if you ship the two characters, go for it. I simply read them as platonic. A friend helping out a friend. It doesn’t have to be romantic to mean something. There doesn’t have to be something more for these two to care about each other. Community isn’t always romantic.

That being said, if the ship becomes cannon, I will not be surprised at all.

Next week, I’m covering Hell’s Greatest Dad, and the global treasure that is Jeremy Jordan. So, stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

[scythegirl13]

sparkle and shine aka a really good song for edward twilight from the suckening

alright so this song...i cant stop listening to the full version like at all. THIS SHIT HITS!!! and i want to talk about some of the things ive noticed in the song because its really cool. everyone is loosely tied to an instrument and thats something i really enjoy

so lets talk about the saxophone that is always playing. the solo sax which i think is an alto really captures edwards whole mood. its a romantic sax part of course it will, buts it the way that the thing needs to be supported by multiple instruments, piano which is playing simple cords all the time, a lot of percussion like tamberine and drum kit thats really only doing only one thing, violins which go up and down in a really simple beat, and voices, which there are many. if this was just a sax song, it'd still be good by itself but it'd sound empty. i think that symbolizes how edward is good at what he does, but he cant do it alone. he needs people that are willing, people that need to be somewhat in the know.

the piano part screams mary because of how crucial something like that is. this instrument is a staple jazz instrument, as in a lot of other genres of music. she also completely stops playing whenever the sax goes into the higher registry or when that one string instrument plays. she stops helping him whenever he goes into a high, waits, then goes again. if im right, thats such a cool way to have mary as a characterization as the piano piece

bass = deacon, supports him, but you can barely hear him. i think he plays the entire time, even when that one string instrument has an 8 measure solo. i think thats why the bass symbolizes him, because he supports shilos instrument.

NOW SHILOS PART!!! HES THAT ONE INSTRUMENT I CANT FIGURE OUT AND IM GONNA GO NUTZO BECAUSE I THINK ITS SOME TYPE OF ASIAN STRING INSTURMENT. maybe its the violin but i wanna say the pipa because it has that ring to it. anyways thats me going crazy now to the good bits! edit: its not th pipa its a fucking harp...guys im stupid

the sax completely stops playing whenever the HARP plays, it has a nice solo that goes of the base melody but also does its own thing. its supplied whatever is given and goes on this cool solo thats really good, but after eight measures the sax comes back in with a click from a tamberine. i think that tamberine is supposed to represent renwick in that part because thats the queue to switch over because hes the one that revealed that there is a prince out there.

all the other saxes are the edward copies, they play the same part as him but dont follow him to where they are also as important as him. they make his long notes not sound that bad, they make his notes into a cord. long notes is sometimes where the music can get boring due to it being there for so long. the other saxes stabilize his note and make sure its not boring.

the voices i think are vampire society in general. they play the crucial role of also not making it boring, but take those voices out then all of a sudden it sounds really empty and not a lot of things are that interesting.

alr thanks for coming to my ramblings, hope im right because i luv jazz. might do this for some other songs but i think this one is important because it plays on the "if everyone banded together, he has no power" motif which i adore

[tiredofthehumanlife]

That dickhead (the one ex I have) ruined classical music for me so now the Regulus in my head has to listen to jazz god fucking damnit

[dumbbullet]

watched my mother take a bite of chocolate pudding today and i nearly cried about it

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

Hatchetfield introduced entities so beyond comprehension that we can only understand them enough to fear. Endless beings of alien form and cruel intention, that incite world wars with glee and torment select people with a sick favoritism. The world is a game of little consequence, treated with sadistic humor. Entities both ageless and foul so far beyond the human mind that the mere presence of them twists and corrupts the very core of your being.

And you know who the most terrifying characters to me are?

A dude in a full denim suit and some jackass who calls himself Boy Jerry. Incredible

(and also a bird that smokes weed)

[nkirukaj]

Our Renaissance

Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem! OC (Human!Voe)

Warnings: Swearing; 1920s Slang

Genre: Slight Angst (& Humor!)

Word Count: 1.8K

Voe and Alastor are lying on the grass in the bayou of the latter’s room, staring at the man-made stars above. Voe sighs and smiles warmly, Alastor’s eyes dart towards her.

“What is on your mind, my dear?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, it’s just my silly brain wandering”

“Do tell, I love to hear what your mind can do.” He leans on his arm and stares down at her with a smirk

She rolls her eyes “I was just staring at these stars and wondering if this is what real stars in New Orleans look like.”

Alastor tsks “Oh no, absolutely not. I couldn’t capture the beauty of the Louisiana night sky no matter how hard I tried.”

She looks up at him “I figured. But then, after I thought about how I’d never been there, and thought about what it would have been like if I had ever gone to New Orleans. Then I wondered what it would have been like if we’d met each other when we were alive.”

“We are from two different periods my dear, that would not be possible.”

“I know, but I just wonder, what if we weren’t? Like, what if I was around in the 20s while you were still in your prime? I wonder how you looked then.” She reaches up and caresses his face

Alastor grins at his partner “Oh I was quite the lady killer.” He said, his tone full of arrogance 

“In more ways than one,” Voe offered, and they both laughed to their heart’s content.

______________________________

The year is 1919.

“Alastor!”

The hunting grounds he had become so familiar with were just the right distance from his home. Far enough that no one would think of him here, and close enough that he could always hear his mother’s call. Alastor decided there was enough dirt over the hole and started returning. He left the shovel out back and entered the house, anxious to know what it was his mother needed. He entered through the back way, pretending he was there the entire time. He entered the kitchen, his mother’s back to him

“Alastor! Alas- Oh! There you are!” She caresses her son’s face “Please try to come when I first call you alright? I get worried,”

“Of course Maman,” he gives her a tiny smile

She turns her back to him and he walks around to face him “I just wanted to tell ya that I’ll be out ’til dark so please don’t wait up for me. Mr. and Mrs. Hebert want a whole lotta suits and dresses for the entire family tonight. Cook yourself some dinner and please finish that yardwork today, Mr. Doucet wants them delivered first thing in the morning.”

He nods, leaning on the table “Which flowers did his wife order again?”

“The lobelias,” she answers while slipping on a jacket ��But only the white ones,” she pulls her purse over her shoulder “Have them cut, trimmed, and potted before I get home because I know you’ll forget if you don’t and it would be really helpful if I didn’t have to do it myself, okay?” She kisses his forehead

“Okay,” 

“Have a good night sweetheart! Be safe!” and out the door she was

Alastor looks through the kitchen cabinets to see what he would be able to cook for himself as well as for his mother to eat when she got home. Perhaps he could treat her to a dessert as well? If he could find the right ingredients. His mother was a huge fan of Bananas Foster, but never splurged on ice cream for herself. Alastor cut up meat and vegetables as he thought of all the tips he had been collecting from the deliveries he’d made with the intent of using them to buy something special for his mother. Nothing big, since he knew she wouldn’t ever allow him to spend that much money on her, but maybe some ice cream just to make her favorite dessert. As he mixed the chopped foods and let them cook on the stove, he retrieved the tips from under his clothes in his drawer. 

A carton of ice cream was 20¢ and when he went to count the coins he’d collected, he came up with only 10. He could go and buy his mother a banana split, but he wanted to make this gift with his own hands. The anger made him warm inside, the heat rising from his fingers and spreading throughout his body, all the way to the top of his head and the tips of his toes. He spins around and flings the useless change around his tiny bedroom, hearing the coins clatter on the floor. Leaning on his dresser, the scent of burned food hits his nose and he looks up in shock and worry.

His fear is recognized when he gets back down the stairs, the food he had so carefully prepared had burned on the stove, which meant that neither he nor his mother would be eating tonight, seeing as they would be getting paid tomorrow morning and only then would they be able to buy more groceries. Alastor angrily throws out the burned dinner and slams himself down in one of the kitchen chairs dramatically, hearing the wood creak. He held his head in his hands, silently waiting for the stove to cool down. Was it so wrong to want the luxuries that he so often saw people like the ones they sold to take for granted?

Alastor enjoyed potting plants, he’d roll up his sleeves and get caught up in the dirt, which may have been why he was so good at digging holes. It helped that he took an interest in the flowers they grew. Lobelias, Magnolias, Irises, Azaleas and much more. It may not have seemed like the most ‘manly’ way to spend one’s time but his mother took her time to teach him, so Alastor couldn’t care less. Getting covered in the dirt made him feel like he was doing something like he was earning his way. 

20 white lobelias cut, trimmed, and potted, ready to be delivered. Alastor wiped the sweat off of his forehead, some of the dirt on his forearm wiping onto his face. He stood to look at his work before bending to pick them up and carry them inside. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a young lady in the street. She’s bent over, picking up a pocket watch. When she stands she continues examining the watch, a trolley approaching her fast. He didn’t know if she was deaf or dumb but she wasn’t moving. It’s as if she had no idea that vehicles drove on the road, Alastor looks back and forth between the woman and the flowers. he rushes toward her.

He launched forward, grabbing her wrist, yanking her out of the street, and holding her waist to keep her stable. Her hat had fallen over her face, but he could still see the plump lips under it.

“What were you thinking?”

She breathes out through her mouth “Who are you, my father?”

“I believe thanks are in order,” 

She tilts her head up “I suppose they are,” her voice smooth and soft “Thank you,” she says, clear that she didn’t want to

He lets go of her waist, letting her hands free to readjust herself. Alastor clears his throat, looking down at the girl’s expensive and neat clothes.

“Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you.” His breath was stolen as he gazed at the girl before him “Quite a pleasure.” he sticks his hand out

“Vera,” she responded, lifting her hat with her other hand while looking upwards at the man who saved her “Vera Bates.” she takes and shakes it. She looks down, seeing dirt spots on her arms and dress, she does her best to dust them off.

“What brings you to this area, bunny?” Alastor questions

She continues dusting herself off “How do you know I’m not from here?”

Alastor crosses his arms “To pale kreyol?” he raises his eyebrow smirking

“What?”

“Exactly,”

She scoffs “You did not know that when you forcibly yanked me out of the street,” she huffs

“Well, now I do,”

She rolls her eyes “If we all stuck to English, I could fit in,”

“That’s a load of applesauce,” he rolls his eyes

“Why?” She looks somewhat offended

“Look at how you’re dressed, does that look like you belong here?” he pulls on her sleeve “Around here we ain’t afraid to get dirty,”

Vera crosses her arms “Fine, I’m visiting with my family and I might have wandered a bit, are you happy?”

Alastor looks the girl up and down, his tongue rolling over his teeth “Where you from?”

“New York City,” she puffs out her chest, “The city that never sleeps,”

“And I bet you’re proud of that aren’t you?”

She looks taken aback “Of course I am! New York is so advanced! It has the skyline, Central Park, amazing food, music, and of course…Broadway,” her eyes sparkle “It’s practically the cultural center of the world,”

He scoffs “I beg to differ, we have much better food and music. Plus we got theaters too,”

“But not Broadway,”

“What does it matter?

“I want to be an actress!”

Alastor sniggers at the thought, barely able to contain his amusement

“What on Earth is so funny?”

  “Doll please, everyone knows that radio is the future,”

She tilts her head to the side “Radio?” she scrunches her brows “Well I have nothing against radio, but it has nothing on the stage,”

“The stage is entertaining. But radio is life-changing.”

“You can’t even see people on the radio! The stage can take you to a different world!”

He leans down “So can radio. And being on the radio isn’t a useless pipe dream,” 

“At least there already is someone like me on the movie screens. You think they would let a boy like you on the radio?” Her words are filled with venom, and it’s enough to immediately stop Alastor’s chortling.

“And what exactly is a boy like me?” he leans forward

“You’re weak!” she spits at him “You’re thin, like you haven’t eaten a day in your life, and you hardly sound like a man at all. Nobody wants to hear some little sissy yappin’ on the radio!” she grins as she knows that her hurtful comments have landed

“Says the girl who doesn’t know that cars drive on the road,”

“Oh dry up, ya rag-a-muffin!”

“You’re on my property, dollface! So get a wiggle on! Wearing your glad rags in the middle of the week,”

“These are my regular clothes!” She tosses over her shoulder and storms away from him

“Whatever you say doll,” he calls after her. She flips him the bird as she walks off. He pretends to be offended, “Oooh, rude doll.”

[sonic-adventure-3]

it is kinda funny to me when ppl say things in the vein of “jazz is perfect to represent rouge because of it’s chaotic nature”, cause like sure, okay, i can understand why you’d say that, but that’s the kinda thing you say when you have not listened to any jazz at all.

jazz can seem chaotic, sure, but it seems odd to me to define the whole umbrella of jazz as chaotic when you absolutely have not listened to actually chaotic sounding jazz subgenres like bebop. i just generally extremely dislike the descriptor of “chaotic” for jazz because i think it’s fundamentally untrue, there is absolutely logic and order in jazz, it’s built upon a rich tradition. jazz can be complex, frantic, energetic, and is often improvisational, but i don’t think it’s chaotic.

also i think that suits rouge far better than actual chaos, cause rouge is absolutely a complex and logical person, she just acts first and foremost on her desires

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer Polyship Week 2024, Day Four: Let’s Dance (Severance AU)

We've reached Day Four of Valicer Polyship Week 2024, inspired by @polyshipweek, and our prompt today is "Let's Dance!" Because, while I don't talk about it as much as I used to, I am still a huge fan of my various ships dancing together. :D And I knew exactly what AU I wanted to pair the prompt with -- my new Valicer Severance AU! Otherwise known as "I Owe My Soul To The Company Store" after that one music video I reblogged. Severance the TV show has a rather iconic scene of the Innies getting a "Music/Dance Experience" in episode 7 (you can watch it here if you are so inclined -- warning, it takes a turn for the violent near the end, as one of the main characters is on edge after learning something interesting about his Outie's life the night before), so I figured this prompt would be the perfect opportunity to do my take on what an MDE would look like for my Innie trio. :) Hope you enjoy!

--

DeeedledeeedleeDIIING!

Smiler jerked their hands away from their keyboard, blinking. Across from them, Victor jumped, looking around. “W-what was that?”

“Sounded like it came from Smiler’s computer,” Alice said, getting up and peering over the partition separating their desks. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Smiler insisted, eyeing their set-up suspiciously. “I just sorted another set of numbers, and then that happened.”

“Well, you must have done something different.” Alice leaned on the partition, smirking. “Did the numbers make you feel a prohibited emotion? Ennui, perhaps?”

Smiler stuck out their tongue at her. “You know this entire job is one big study in ennui,” they said, studying their screen to see if there was anything new and exciting. There were the usual bins at the bottom, waiting to be filled with pointless bullshit; there was the giant field of numbers in the middle, a sea of remorselessly ridiculous digits; there was the name of the file at the top, the never-to-be-explained “Hill Valley;” there was the progress bar next to that – “Oh! I made 75%!”

“You – wait, really?” Victor said, getting up and coming over for a look.

“Yeah, look.” Smiler pointed at the bar. “Didn’t even realize...so I guess that was a ‘good job’ noise.”

“Huh – congratulations, then,” Alice said, looking slightly impressed despite herself. “First time any of us have managed that with a file – Wheatley!” she called over to their supervisor. “Smiler got 75% on Hill Valley!”

“They what?” Wheatley came zooming over on his rail to see, stopping just over Victor’s shoulder and making him duck out of the way. “Oh, look at that! That’s fantastic!” he declared, flexing his outer plates. “That means you, Smiler A., get an MDE!”

“MDE?” Smiler repeated, brow crinkled.

“Music/Dance experience! A five-minute dance party – DJed by yours truly,” Wheatley added, spinning on his rail. “Let me get the cart – just a moment!”

He zipped off, humming to himself. Smiler watched him go, then looked back at Victor and Alice. “I – I gotta admit, I’d kind of forgotten that was a thing,” they said, brushing their bangs out of their face.

“So had I,” Victor said, going back to his own desk. “Hang on, there must be something on it in the handbook…” He pulled it out of his drawer and flipped through it. “Here we are – yes, it’s the tier just below 100% completion and Cake Day. I’m not surprised we forgot, though – like Alice said, none of us have ever gotten that far on a file before.”

“They must have forgotten to expire yours before you hit the magic number,” Alice said, smiling. “Well, good to know that we can get rewards other than those stupid erasers and finger traps. Just don’t get your hopes up about the cake.”

“I won’t, trust me,” Smiler said, crossing their heart with a finger. “Besides, with our luck? I wouldn’t be surprised if they gave us a giant wad of tuna fish in the shape of a cake instead.”

Victor pulled a face. “If they did that, I’d burn this fucking place to the ground.”

“Can we get that in writing?” Alice asked, leaning on her hand.

Before Smiler could point out that there was no way any of them were getting access to matches anytime soon, Wheatley returned, followed by a little motorized cart that skidded to a stop beside Smiler’s desk, bearing a trio of cheap party hats in Aperture-approved orange and blue and a couple of speakers. “Here we are! Wouldn’t let me connect to it at first, but I had a few words with it,” he said brightly. “All right, so – just pick your genre of music and your accessory, and we’ll be off!”

“Accessory?” Smiler repeated – then jerked back as a drawer on the cart popped out practically into their lap, bearing a maraca, a pair of castanets, a party horn, a set of bells on a stick, and a single sad glowstick. “Oh. Uh – so – I just – pick something?”

“Yup! Grab your item, then you can choose your music,” Wheatley said, rolling his optic down toward a laminated list of musical genres lying atop the cart. “And then it’s party time! Wooo!”

Smiler snorted. “You’re happier about this than I am,” they noted, looking through their “accessory” options.

“Well, it does mean that I’ve been doing a great job as your supervisor,” Wheatley said, in a tone that said that if he had a nose, he’d be putting it in the air. “And besides, this isn’t like when you guys made those race cars out of office supplies, or went wandering off and petted those baby goats, or had your little make-out picnic in the kitchen. This is an Official Aperture Science Macrodata Refinement Incentive! Miss Glados can’t say a word about us taking five minutes to boogie!”

A grin slowly spread over Smiler’s face. “...that’s a good point.” Sure, corporate-mandated fun was probably far from the best fun they could have down here, but it was definitely the safest. And Smiler really enjoyed the idea of Miss Glados steaming over seeing them happy, but being unable to do anything about it. They picked up the glowstick and gave it a little shake, watching it light up a pleasant banana yellow (not that they ever remembered seeing a banana, but they were reasonably sure that was right). “This feels me.”

“It does,” Alice agreed, coming around to look at the list of music as the drawer retracted as violently as it had extended. “As for your music choices...you’ve your pick of Defiant Jazz, Bawdy Funk, Playful Punk, Wistful Pipes, Effusive Ska, Bouncy Swing–

“That one,” Smiler cut in with a nod, getting up. “This is supposed to be a party, isn’t it? Let’s have the happiest music we’ve got.”

“Sounds good to me! Now, everybody, this is in Smiler’s honor, but you should all feel free to get up and dance!” Wheatley announced, as if he was talking to a giant crowd instead of just three people. “Let’s get this party started!”

Right on cue, the lights dimmed, then started cycling through a rainbow of different colors as out of the cart’s speakers came the most upbeat, high-tempo music Smiler had ever heard. Not that they actually recalled ever hearing any music before, but that just made this tune all the more exhilarating, sending a thrill straight through their bones. Their feet seemed to move of their own accord, catching the beat and sending them spinning across the floor. Laughing, Smiler let their body take control, shaking their glowstick to the rhythm of the horns. Good to know some part of me knows how to dance! Would have been embarrassing otherwise!

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!” Wheatley cheered, bobbing to the beat as best he could while Smiler soft-shoed about. “Come on, Victor, Alice! Not a party with just two people!”

Victor smiled awkwardly and began very tentatively to sway on the spot, raising his arms slightly. Alice, by contrast, immediately threw herself into the music, waving her hands in the air and doing some very interesting hops and skips around their cubicles. “What is that?” Smiler laughed, boogieing over her way.

“No bloody clue, but it feels right!” Alice responded with a big grin, grabbing their hands and swinging them around before flinging them away. She promptly bounced over to Victor, grabbing his hands in turn. “Come on – we know you can do better than that!”

“I don’t,” Victor said, though he did let Alice pull him forward, closer to the cart.

“Well, we wouldn’t actually know if you messed up,” Smiler pointed out encouragingly, making their way over and bumping their shoulder against Victor’s side before fluttering their eyelashes up at him. “Please?”

Victor snorted. “You’re very silly,” he noted, picking up the rhythm more as he moved from side to side. “Both of you.”

“That’s why you love us,” Alice said, twirling herself into his arms before gazing up at him adoringly.

Victor smiled down at her, then over at Smiler, freeing a hand to beckon them over. “Yes. Yes it is.”

Smiler followed his finger, their heart going all warm and runny at the deep fondness in Victor’s eyes, and the cheeky little grin on Alice’s face. Not for the first time (or the second, or the third, or the fiftieth), they found themselves wishing they could leave this stupid fucking office and actually go outside. Go live an actual life somewhere together, where there were windows and seasons and as few numbers as possible. Where they got eat things other than tuna fish sandwiches and do things other than sit at computers all damn day. Where they could be together without constantly worrying about cameras and Miss Glados and the Break Room. Where they could dance for more than five minutes to whatever music they liked.

But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, if ever. Not with everything they were owned by fucking Aperture and its goons. But they still had these five minutes, and Smiler was determined to make the most of them. They slid under Victor’s arm and snuggled up to him, slipping their free arm around Alice. She pulled them in close, and together they bobbed to the music, just enjoying each other’s company and the break from the endless sorting. One day, Smiler quietly vowed, glancing at their partners. One day, we’re getting out of here, whatever it takes. And when we do, the first thing I’m doing is dancing with both of you for real.