#also i NEED more attention to be paid to tom being in his late forties beyond a passing reference its such a critical point of who he is

[literallyshiv]

so few of you understand tom like i do. SAD. he's a middle aged closet case from minnesota and he's a fucking cunt he's mean and selfish and he has a gaping void inside him that he thinks he can fix with enough devotion to the right ideals thanks to being half-heartedly raised in the protestant church with parents who didn't really believe what was being put out but they still went every week under the obligation of "it's just what you do", not realizing that what he's devoted himself to are what is creating that vacuum in his core in the first place but none of that takes away from how he's a truly terrible person and he doesn't feel bad about it because the way he sees the world is that putting your own priorities first is the only logical way of behaving, even at the detriment to others, because it's the only way to get anywhere. its a sign of strength and power and the only time he feels remorseful for his behavior is when he's forcefully confronted by the consequences felt by those around him, all other times he's perfectly happy to let the bodies wash away without a second thought. not to mention that he feels like a failure having only made it to executive level positions in his middle age, seeing his partner walk into successful career moves quicker than he's able to all while being ten years younger than him and he knows that jealousy is futile and the past can't be changed but he feels like he had to work so hard throughout his youth and the most significant career growth he achieved only after ingratiating himself to the roy family. and he has to debate with himself over whether or not he earned his position or if he simply owes it to shiv, but either way what does it matter if the end result is where he is, but it does matter, to him, because he has pride and dignity, but that's stupid because it's no use dwelling on the how as long as it doesn't affect the fact of where he is, except he does dwell on it, quite a bit, and maybe it festers and makes him bitter but he learned from the best of the best at stuffing feelings down and if there's anything more pathetic than being less successful than his younger wife, it's being jealous of the fact that he's less successful than her

[independentartistbuzz]

Indie 5-0: 5 Questions with Reggie Harris

A teaching artist in the Kennedy Center’s CETA program (Changing Education Through the Arts) and a fellow for the prestigious Council of Independent College lecture program, Reggie Harris also serves as Co-President and Director of Music Education for the Living Legacy Project—an advocacy group that sponsors Civil Rights pilgrimages throughout the South and online education seminars worldwide. His new album On Solid Ground is about all healing and inspiration in the face of injustice and dissension. From love songs (“Come What May”) to protest songs (“Standing in Freedom's Name”) to the album-closing tribute (“High Over the Hudson”) to his friend and mentor Pete Seeger, On Solid Ground has a little bit of something for everyone. Harris is the 2021 recipient of Folk Alliance International's Spirit of Folk Award and is a DJ on the new program Prisms: The Sound Of Color on SiriusXM’s The Village. He was recently featured on CNN’s Silence is Not An Option with Don Lemon and in The New York Times.

Listen to Reggie Harris via Spotify:

https://open.spotify.com/artist/0HWFtZHIDLRaW9POYMsAtp

1. At what age did you realize that music was the career you wanted to pursue? What was your ‘ah-ha’ moment? Wow. It came late. I mean, I’ve been singing since I was three or four years old, but I never really had any reason to think of music as a possible career. No one in my family or for that matter, in my social circle, did anything of the sort. People asked that question “What do you wanna be?” all the time but I saw music as just something you did in church or at school or in family sings around the piano. I always loved music and I was always good at it. I learned to harmonize really early and I sang all through high school but never gave any thought to it as a profession. I thought I’d be a teacher. But the “aha moment” came when I heard James Taylors' "Fire and Rain" on the radio one night in 12th grade. Something about his guitar and his expressive voice lit a fire that burned inside until I got a guitar in my hands in 1974. That happened when a young woman I was dating dared me to learn 3 chord on the guitar. That event unleashed something inside of me that had gone untapped in all my years of singing in choirs and groups and at school. I now had the ability to accompany myself with music that I heard from within. I bought the album Sweet Baby James and played the grooves out. That opened the door to Gordon Lightfoot, Don McClean, Cat Stevens, Kenny Rankin and the singer songwriters. I started watching shows like The Midnight Special or Don Kirschner’s Rock Concert and I started going to concerts. And around that same time, I met another young woman named Kim who played guitar and loved the same artists I did. She and I started meeting up and practicing songs, then we began writing songs and quickly became singing partners. Eventually we got married and I’d say, we pushed each other out the door and onto the stage. We were both passionate about making music and helped each other learn and grow and we were both willing to struggle to make it work. We did that for forty years and then separated and I became a solo act in 2016. I love the way it feels to spend hours making music and I really love how it makes other people feel when they hear it. It also gives me a voice to express what I see in the world. My passion for creating music and connecting the dots is stronger than ever. 2. Who are your musical inspirations? What artists inspired you to start your career and find your musical passion? My musical inspiration started early and there have been so many streams. Hearing the “old folks” in my church sing spirituals and hymns was formative and Sunday afternoon church events where 6 or 7 or more church choirs would travel around and have a gospel song fest at another church was exciting and grounding. All those amazing singers covering those great songs. I remember hearing Harry Belafonte, Mahalia Jackson, Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, Sam Cooke and others on my mother's radio in the morning as she got ready for work. Their voices just made you feel emotions like nothing else in the world. Our teachers in elementary taught us the songs of Woody Guthrie, Paul Robeson, Pete Seeger and Bob Dylan and we sang “Blowing in the Wind” (The Peter, Paul, and Mary version) and "If I Had A Hammer" for 6th grade graduation. I remember standing on the steps of my house in Philly with three of my friends, in the summer of 1964, singing “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” at the top of our lungs. We all took different roles as The Beatles. I thought I was Paul of course! That strikes me funny now… four little black boys in inner-city Philadelphia thinking they were English rockers? Why not The Temps? Or Smokey and the Miracles? There was also Aretha Franklin and The Stones in 1965 with "Satisfaction." Marvin Gaye and Stevie Wonder fascinated me and all those great Motown artist’s voices came floating down the hall to my room as my sister came of age. I paid attention to the musicians and the arrangements too. Years later, after I discovered the guitar, I met Pete Seeger, Tom Paxton and Ritchie Havens and other folk musicians and started to find a groove that combined what they were doing with other music I loved. My inspiration stream crosses genres, race, decade and style. Stevie Wonder to Pete Seeger, to Bach to Dolly Parton to Joan Armatrading to the Yellow Jackets to Beyonce. Listening across genres gives me more information to process which I can incorporate in melodies, harmonies or language for lyrics. 3. What inspired you to write & record On Solid Ground? I got home on March 8, 2020 after my tour was abruptly ended by COVID-19 shutdowns. For 3 weeks, I sat watching the news, talking with friends, feeling the world come apart as concert dates disappeared from my calendar for months and months into the future. Since concerts, lectures and school programs are the major ways that I get to sow seeds of hope in the world, I felt at a great loss. Like everyone else, I saw tensions building and protests against the various issues of hate and division exploding in the streets and felt that I needed to make sense of it all.

Music is the place I go when I need the world to make sense. So I started doing online concerts and that helped me to see how hungry people were for music and connection. My answer to the desperation and fear that I saw rising all around was to write the song "On Solid Ground." It’s written in the style and frame of the spirituals which are songs I grew up singing and that I still sing now. They are songs composed by people who endured slavery…people who were suffering through devastatingly tough times and still found ways to persevere through music and community. So my message? We can get through this time of challenge and change if we pull together and face ourselves.

Then the floodgates opened. I watched people flood into the streets to protest the George Floyd and Breonna Taylor killings and the growing acts of election suppression and wrote “Standing in Freedom’s Name” and “Let’s Meet Up Early.” I also arranged Malvina Reynolds' “It Isn’t Nice" as a tribute. Inspired by articles about workers who were being put in danger by callous factory owners and government officials, I wrote “My Working Bones.”

In the isolation of missing my girlfriend, who lives 10 hours away, I wrote “Come What May.” Then, watching street scenes on TV in 2020 that mirrored C.T. Vivian’s classic stand-off with Sheriff Jim Clark in Selma in 1965, I was inspired to write “It’s Who We Are.” It’s my challenge to the avoidance of questions of race, inequality and disenfranchisement that we as a nation are still struggling to face. But the protests showed a possible willingness to change?

I wrote the song "High Over the Hudson" about Pete Seeger in 2014 but never put it on a CD. And "Maybe It’s Love" was a fun writing exercise about the nature of romance.  Song after song was born as a timely reflection on what was on my mind every day and as I would finish one song, another would rise up.

Soon I had 9 originals and 4 songs that I was inspired to arrange as covers and I thought, ”Looks like a CD to me.” 4. What was the process like bringing the album to life, and who did you work with to create it?

Recording this CD was both supremely challenging, deeply therapeutic and also the most relaxed I’ve ever been in the studio. The project gave me an outlet for stress. We had to be very careful about COVID-19 protocols and close proximity at all times. Travel was weird and in a few impossible moments, we worked remotely. I was also wondering if I’d ever get to go out and perform the songs once they were done or if anyone would ever buy physical music again since that has been decreasing for years. But as I called on musicians who were not only good friends but who I knew would respond to my vision, the way to proceed got clearer.  My core co-contributors, Greg Greenway and Dave Schonauer, have been critical collaborators on my last three CDs. Greg and I have known each other for over 30 years and were born three days apart. So we have a language that just flows. We met and did pre-production in August and then hit the studio in September. Dave, the engineer at Morningstar Studios, is just brilliant. He makes things possible that most people don’t think of. Pat Wictor is my improvisational exploration brother as is Tom Prasado-Rao. Pat got up from a bout with COVID-19 and a recovery from tearing a tendon in his arm and played his newly retrained fingers off. Tom came out of a major bout with cancer and simmered with vocal ideas. They were all amazing at helping me chase my vision and “letting me be me" while adding brilliance and calling me on things didn’t quite measure up. We work at a level of trust that transcends words. I met bassist Chico Huff and drummer Matt Scarano when I recorded the CD Ready to Go in 2017-18 and they both play my music like they were there when I wrote it! Eric Byrd is a friend who is an amazing musical force and funny as hell. And Colleen Kattau, Mark Murphy and Ken Ulansey are longtime friends who just find the right temperature and vibe all the time. Everyone did what I love: They came in the door with passion and flexibility, brought their “A” games and didn’t leave until we got it right. And now Kari Estrin, Sarah Bennett and my friend Joann Murdock are helping me get it out to the world. 5. What do you have in store for the rest of 2021? I’m looking forward to continuing to unveil these songs, first during online concerts and then, as things begin to open up, with the start of whatever the new in-person performing landscape will become. I’ll continue to provide education videos for schools and doing lectures and residency work with colleges and universities on my own and through the Council of independent Colleges. The pandemic also gave me the time to work on a memoir which I’m trying to finish with a friend who is co-writing. And I’ll continue my work in civil, voting and human rights with the Living Legacy Project organization as we work to extend awareness and social activism. In my spare time, I hope to go to a few baseball games, see fully vaccinated friends for visits and hugs, watch a few movies and hopefully see my 76ers win the NBA championship. And I think I also need to get some rest.

[parabellum-rpg-archive]

Congratulations, Meghan! You’ve been accepted to play Camila Perez. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: THIS WAS SO WELL WRITTEN. The fact that you added so much depth to Camila, beyond being seen as just ditzy. I feel like Camila is the lightness that we’ll all need to see on the dash. I’m here for it. 100%. - Admin V

CHARACTER DESIRED

Camila Perez.

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS

No need to rewrite the biography - but who are they to you? What are their goals, ambitions, or flaws? Here’s your opportunity to show us who this character is to you.

I love Camila. She’s deliciously bright, and worldly, and pleasure-seeking and wild and warm all at once. A lot of her interests read as shallow. I think it’s easy to dismiss her in that way— people mistake sociability and a bubbly nature for other things, and Camila doesn’t really help that perception with her love of material items. But she has a deep care and respect for her family, and a charm about her that draws people in. She’s fun! She has a gift of making others feel wanted, and when someone is with Camila, they get the full force of that magnetism. She’s the person that compliments other drunk girls in the bathroom, pulls even the most reluctant stranger along on one of her wild, debaucherous adventures.

As often as she is called a ditz, or stupid, there’s a vividness to her that can’t be ignored. Bright-eyed and curious, Camila is undeniably alive.

Maybe that curiosity drives her to a fault.

After all— curiosity is what entangled her in the city’s underbelly in the first place. Camila likes to weave her way in and out of these circles with a careless excitement. She indulges in the expensive booze, lounges with corrupt politicians and criminals without pausing to consider how they came into this position in the first place, and what exactly funded their wealth of resources. It’s not something she thinks about. Not the blood money, not what these men do when they’re not spending their cash on beautiful women. To some extent, its her naivete— the other part is willful ignorance. It’s easier for Camila that way. Calling her parents is easier, collecting her check and spending it on exorbitant handbags is easier too.

For now, the lifestyle has been without consequences. I think it would be interesting to see her interact with some of the grittier realities of crime, and maybe some of the darker characters who aren’t quite as charmed with Camila’s personality. (Not that she wouldn’t try her best to win them over). It’s a comfortable, if not chaotic bubble she’s been living in. And as willing as she was to dive into this world, to fully entrench herself with crime lords, she’s been dealt a pretty easy hand. I think it would be interesting to see if Camila balks at some of the more serious aspects, or goes into it willingly, determined to preserve her lifestyle.

Not that she’s probably considered that much: I think Camila is largely short-sighted. She likes gratification. it’s difficult for her to see personal value in things she deems unnecessary, or unpleasant. It’s not that she’s incapable of hard work— it’s just that Camila’s effort correlates directly with her interest. She has no trouble putting in extra hours to afford a new Birkin, but studying for a test seems like a near-impossible task. (It practically was).

Given the right reward, I think Camila is willing to do a lot.

Despite this, though, I think she has a hard time describing her ambitions as concrete and quantifiable goals. Since high-school, all she’s ever wanted was freedom— and now she has it. There’s no CEO position Camila’s vying for, no  grab for power. No long-term plans. But what she wants, she wants so badly— even if she’s just chasing something as vague as a feeling or sensation. Camila lives voraciously. She enjoys herself—and life— fully, no-half measures. She craves stimulation, and that’s what makes her so well-suited to her job. Smoke, sweat, tumbling ice, a new client every night, stories that end in broken heels and laughter. It’s overwhelming to some, but Camila simply wants more.

More dresses. More friends to giggle with. More stupid stories, more men tripping over their feet to give her their attention.

For now, Camila is very intent on living life the way she wants, even if others might dismiss it as shallow, or silly. It’s still hers. For all her faults, she is uniquely herself—no matter what trouble that could bring her.

Camila is chasing after things so fast, so carelessly, she’s almost euphorically dizzy.

WRITING SAMPLE

Provide as many IN CHARACTER samples as you like. At the very least, we expect three paragraphs written in third person. Aside from that, there are no rules. Please include anything you deem necessary.

The club is loud. Camila’s nails— obnoxiously fuchsia— click idly against the side of her shot glass. It needs filling.

“Hereee, babydoll.” The client to her left extends the almost-empty bottle, filling her own glass chivalrously.

The dimples in Camila’s cheek deepen; she titters and grins appreciatively.

“Ooh, thank you. My hero.”

He’s forty-six. Married, probably, salt-and-pepper hair with three mansions and a wallet that’s seeing a lot of action tonight. He shoves a wad of tips towards one of the servers bearing more champagne: the man stammers his thanks. She likes the generous ones.

“Didn’t think I was gonna let you go thirsty tonight, huh?”

The two of them have been anything but.

“So. Did you know—” She pauses, rakes her fingers through her hair enticingly. “—I once drank two forties before my SATs. Top to bottom, n’ everything.”

Tom—a perfectly boring name for a money launderer — likes wild stories. She can tell, in the way he keeps boasting about his own, trying to coax something out of her. Maybe it’s the mid-life crisis thing. Trying to re-live the good old days, the wild times, before this man’s life became board meetings and portfolio evaluations.

He smiles, skeptical but indulging.

“No way. Bullshit.”

“Yes way!”

“You did not drink before your SATs.”

Camila sighs. Fixes him with a drunk, demure pout.

“I can’t believe you don’t believe me.”

“—There’s no way you drank that much before the most important test of your life.”

The gloss to her hair shimmers gently as she fans it about her shoulders, raises an eyebrow to be purposefully coy.

“Who said it was that important?”

Tom’s laughter is more of a bark.

“Yeah, fine. I do actually believe you now.”

A gentle tongue click, and Camila ropes an arm around his, practically seated in his lap as she cranes her face towards his.

“Silly you for believing. It was rum, actually. And my high school exit exam— not the SATs, or whatever.”

“It’s okay though—” Her cheeks are warm, but she reaches for the champagne again anyway. It’s too early to stop. “—I still like you.”

He rolls his eyes with a good-natured snort, pleased to be the object of her gentle teasing.

It’s what he paid for.

“That was— very convincing. You’re like the Michael Jordan of lying.”

Camila slurps at her champagne delicately, eyes wide and sincere.

“I dunno who that is.”

Tom laughs hard, and flags down another server for more glasses.

(Okay. So she knew that one.)

It’s late. The night rolls on. Millionaires and billionaires slink in and out of their booths, in various states of inebriation, and Camila’s just passed drunk, moving well into inebriated. All of her limbs feel tingly. If she doesn’t focus hard enough, the room spins.

Her new friend seems to be in a similar state. Hiccups punctuate almost half of his words.

“That was pretty good— you’re good at lying! You ought to be a politician, hon.”

He’s teasing her. Even Camila knows that’s the stupidest thing she’s ever heard.

“Blegh.”

“No, I mean it. Like a senator, or something.” His tone’s taken on that indulgent tone again— halfway to patronizing.“It’d be fun.”

“Yeah? Why?” Camila’s eyes glimmer mischievously. “Would you be my mistress, if I was?”

The man gives her smug, sloppy grin.

“Sweetheart, I’d be your anything.”

Now Camila laughs, silly and delighted, when the buzz of her phone scatters her thoughts.

Her eyes catch a glimpse of the screen. Camila’s stomach begins to sink.

Oh, no. Oh, shit! Mild panic pools in her stomach, and she flashes Tom an apologetic smile before excusing herself to the bathroom, dropping the phone on the marble counter and staring at it with the uncontrolled intensity of a drunk.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Her parents were calling at the worst possible time.

There’s no way she can talk to them like this. Camila is far too drunk to hide her condition— she can feel the way her brain is sloshing around in her head, sloppy and useless. Her tongue is loose. She probably sounds a wreck, too.

The call goes to voicemail, and Camila tries to bury the deep knot of guilt in her stomach, fingers moving hesitantly along the keyboard.

“Working! Call u later. XO.”

She scans it twice for mistakes before sending.

There. Camila had told them, in another one of her lies, that she’d began working at a different restaurant, something more upscale— she’d explained the hours were longer, but the pay was better. That covered the late nights. It also explained the delicate drop-necklace she’d been able to afford recently, the pricey gifts she had brought them. Camila supposes she should feel guilty for yet another lie she’s spun. Instead, it’s much closer to relief. Like she’s given herself enough breathing room.

As senselessly gone as she was, Camila doesn’t want to shatter the illusion— the one of the little girl in her best and neatest dress, dutifully sent to and from Mass each Sunday. It was a long time ago. Even if that girl doesn’t exist any more— maybe never really existed— she’s not going to hurt her parents in that way.

It’s too glum a thought.

She can feel the frown formulating between her brows, a tiny stitch of worry which just won’t do. She’s here to have fun. She’s getting paid to have fun! A breath, a tiny wriggle in which she adjusts the tight hug of her dress, and she’s ready to head back out.

Camila stalks out across the floor, pleased at the way Tom’s eyes track her from his booth.

“Guess who got more fuckin’ boooooze!”

He waves a bottle of Macallan at her like a victory flag, glorious and expensive, and Camila is more than happy to slink back over into his lap.

—

The girls are jumbled mess on the floor, spread out and lounging like felines, preoccupied with the task of christening Camila’s new apartment. New apartment meant a night out to celebrate. A night out to celebrate meant the elaborate, often ritualistic task of getting ready.

Camila sits right at the center, taking stock of the chaos.

She can’t count the glistening bottles of nail polish scattered about, clacking merrily together as Maria selects the color. Palettes litter floor. Eyelash curlers. Phones, with their busy music apps and text messages, which Emma continues to glance at periodically.

But only between bitching about her latest client.

“He kept fucking going on about Nascar! Like, shares this, shares that, all that bullshit.”

Maria glances up from her nails, squinting warily in Emma’s direction.

“NASDAQ, is like, the stock market. Nascar is car racing.” A concerned beat. “You know that, right?”

Emma brushes it aside airily.

“Yeah. I just hate when they don’t shut up about business.”

There’s a pause while Camila corrects a smudge on Maria’s cuticle.

“I dunno, I think it’s kinda funny. They say a bunch of boring stuff to me and I just repeat back to the next client, and then they think it’s impressive.”

She straightens up self-importantly, deepens her voice.

“We need to talk about portfolio diversity for our clients— you and I both know we got killed last quarter. I’m not losing to those mothafuckers again.”

She giggles.

“See?”

There’s a loud sigh directly across from her.

“None of that made any sense.”

Camila chooses to ignore that! She gives the teal bottle of polish a vigorous shake, tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth with the effort.

“So do you want a daisy on the pinkie, or a heart?”

Before she can answer, Camila starts flicking the brush carefully about the nail, turning her finger this way and that to achieve the perfect stroke.

“I’ve been practicing my petal shapes.”

“If it looks like shit I’m taking it to a salon.”

“Bitch, I am the salon.”  

Maria still looks mutinous, but curiosity seems to have won her over. She finishes the other nail with an excited hum and a tiny clap, smiling over at her friend expectantly.  

An eyebrow raise.

“…It does look good.”

Victory. Camila smacks a loud kiss to her cheek.

“See! You doubted my skills.”

“I doubted your sobriety.”

She shrieks with laughter and snatches the other girls phone, promising retribution in the form of tinder.

“Just for that, I’m gonna match with you every guy named Chad.”