#fairwood

[griseldagimpel]

Having Martin Blackwood/Simon Fairchild/the Vast thoughts. Gonna write a ficlet as soon as I get a chance.

[nandalikesstuff]

A Fairy With Broken Wings

Relationship: Matthew Fairchild/Thomas Lightwood

Additional Tags: Getting Together, Break Up Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sharing secrets, Confessions, Emotional Baggage, Crying, Angst

Summary:  The first time Thomas says "I love you" doesn't go as he expected.

A/N: I wrote this for a friend a long time ago and just realised I never posted it! Not sure how many people are still interested in this rare pair but I hope you all like it!

If you prefer, also read it on AO3!

~~**~~

The ticking of the clock on the wall was maddening in the silence. It set Thomas’ nerves on edge, making his leg bounce and sweat trickle down his temple as he waited for the boy by his side to say something. Matthew had opened his mouth and closed it again so many times, wriggling his discarded jacket in his hands, looking desperate, empty and half-mad, but he had yet to say something even if he had been the one that had asked to talk. It was slowly driving Thomas insane with him, heart aching with worry, but he was determined to give him as much time as he needed to be able to trust him with something that was clearly so important.

He really, really hoped Matthew wasn’t about to break up with him. He didn’t think he was, they had been happy ever since he had confessed to him. At the time, he had stammered, been unclear, but even then Matthew had told him his feelings were reciprocated, had kissed him, so now after all these weeks he had thought it was time for a proper confession. They had been alone in their club room, kissing and laughing in hushed voices, and he had felt so overwhelmedly happy he couldn’t help but say it with the full words: “I love you”.

He had dreamily expected surprise, tenderness, a kiss and a reply as soft as his confession. He hadn’t expected Matthew to freeze like a deer caught in headlights, looking panicked and guilty, and say he had something serious to tell him. He couldn’t be breaking up with him, could he? That would be extremely cruel and that was something that didn’t fit Matthew at all.

Matthew opened his mouth again, closed it, then finally said:

“You… can’t… You can’t love me.”

Thomas’ heart sank. So he was breaking up with him. But then Matthew shook his head and continued:

“Or, it’s better to say, you shouldn’t- shouldn’t love me. I don’t deserve it, and I have been awful, I’ve been pretending I could have this, when I don’t- I… I just felt so lonely, and I thought, as long as you didn’t say the words, it was ok, that you’d get tired of me eventually and go find someone better, I shouldn’t have let you do this in the first place, get stuck with me, let this go for so long, but I’m bad, I wanted to keep feeling good, but this, I can’t-, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

A sob racked out from Matthew’s throat and Thomas finally realized he hadn’t been looking at him all this time because he was hiding the tears pooling in his eyes. But it seemed that now that the first one had escaped, he couldn’t control it anymore, his voice disappearing in between the desperate, tearing, cries and the wheezes for breath even as he tried to keep apologizing. In shock, Thomas reached out to him only to be pushed away, Matthew shaking his head frantically, but the boy was beginning to double over, coughing and heaving from all the crying, so Thomas steeled himself and tried again, pulling Matthew against himself, holding him even as he struggled weakly against the embrace.

“Shhh, Mattie, it’s ok, it’s ok, it will be ok, we can-”

“No! It’s not ok! Nothing will ever be ok! I am a monster! I am a scum lower and more terrible than a demon, I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t even be allowed to exist anymore! I don’t deserve it, and I don’t deserve you, something so nice and good as you, I should have never- But I was feeling so alone, but I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Matthew!” Thomas was shocked, struggling to comprehend the meaning of the words and where they could have possibly come from. Ever since he had known Matthew, he had always been a beacon of light in the dreary society of the Nephilim, drawing everyone in and warming and helping them like the sun. They might all have the blood of angels, but Matthew was the closest thing to an actual angel on earth that he could imagine. None of the things he was saying made any sense to him, and he was petrified at the idea Matthew had been feeling so bad all this time and he had never noticed it.

“Matthew, I do not know what you mean, how could you possibly believe that. You are better than any one of us, if you are a monster then we are all damned.”

But Matthew was shaking his head again, another sob escaping him as he hid his face against Thomas now. He could feel the tears soaking through his shirt.

“I’m not, I’m, not. You don’t know. You don’t know what I did, I’m the worst, the worst, the worst, the worst. I’m the one that sh-should be dead, not her, not her.”

“Who?”

“My sister! My- The baby Mother was, was carrying. I- I killed her. And almost my mother too. It was my fault. It was all my fault. I poisoned my own mother. Killed the baby she was carrying. Broke my mother’s and my father’s spirit. I hurt them forever. Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m a monster, a murderer, it was my fault. You have been kissing a murderer, and I have been letting you, I am the lowest of lowest on all accounts, so you can’t love me. I won’t- won’t let you.”

Matthew pulled away again and this time Thomas was too petrified to stop him. His mind was simultaneously frozen and working on overdrive, trying to comprehend the confession that had just been trusted to him. He couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it, that couldn’t have just been it, there must be another or some deeper explanation, but with the way Matthew was looking so distraught… No, he wouldn’t allow the other’s panic to infect him, he had to keep a level head to understand the situation. He took a deep breath and centered himself.

“Could you tell me what happened? From the start?”

His calm seemed to startle Matthew as well, he stopped crying so hard and started sniffing, rubbing at his eyes to send the tears away. He nodded.

“I… My parents they don’t… tell me things. I thought that… because I am not serious minded or dependable like Charles Bufford, that they wouldn’t trust me with anything serious. Everyone was unhappy and tense and I could see they were hiding something from me. I thought… Thought Mama was going to leave, that she didn’t love Papa anymore, that everyone knew it but me. I wanted to know, but I couldn’t… couldn’t bring myself to ask. And I was at the Shadow Market and… this Fairy woman was selling potions, she said, she implied, she had a potion that would make people tell you the truth and I- I bought it. I put a drop of it in my mother’s scones for breakfast because I- I wanted to know. She took a bite and that was when- when she fell. And we had to call the Silent Brothers and aunt Tessa and she almost… It was my fault. It was because of the potion, it was me who- who, poisoned her, I…”

He had begun to cry again, but Thomas waited a little more, could see he wasn’t done talking.

“I thought they didn’t trust me, but I was the one that didn’t trust them. I believed something bad about them when I knew I shouldn’t, I didn’t listen to you even with all the warnings you gave me, I wasn’t open and honest with them so of course they wouldn’t be open and honest with me. I plotted and mistrusted and didn’t have faith in the people I love. If it was you- if it was any of you, this wouldn’t happen, but I’m- I’m not good. I’m not like you. So I caused this, I broke my whole family and then I lied about it, and I tricked you into, into thinking I was someone worth of your love but I’m not. I can’t lie anymore, I can’t…”

His voice got swallowed again and Thomas watched, his heart was breaking for Matthew, that had carried this secret and this pain for years now, the guilt of something that was, but wasn’t really his to bear. It was an enormous, giant guilt, and Thomas had no idea how to even begin to unravel it, how he could help fix it or make it better, but more than anything he had ever felt before in his life, he knew he had to try. Instead of diminishing, like Matthew had probably expected it would, his love for the other only grew stronger, for he had been trusted with the darkest, most shameful parts of him, and still saw the goodness in it. Matthew was his light, and he wouldn’t let it be caged by darkness any longer.

He reached out again and held the other tight against him, firm, but gentle. The promise of a rock that could share the weight of his sin and wear on it until it was gone. The promise of support and understanding and love through the difficult times they would have ahead. If Matthew would let him, he would stay by his side until the end of the world. “You didn’t know… No, Matthew, listen to me, you didn’t know. You never meant for this to happen, you were tricked. Everyone can be insecure and make mistakes, that is normal. You made a mistake, but it wasn’t you that poisoned your mother, it was that fairy. She took advantage of you, of your insecurities, to cause pain and misfortune. It wasn’t your fault, please believe me, it wasn’t your fault.”

He could feel Matthew trembling and shaking his head against him, denying it, saying it was his fault, everything, but Thomas kept repeating it, over and over again. He would keep repeating it as many times as it took for Matthew to believe him, he would keep holding him for as long as he needed until he could stand back on his own feet, he would be by his side every step on the way to recovery, until his flame burned as bright as it did before. He promised.

And if he ever ran into that fairy during his life, he would make sure she had a painful slow death for what she had caused. That he also promised.

But that he didn’t say.

[yescrazycatlady10]

Tales From Fairwood Episode 10: Hide And Go Sleep! (2024)

[chelseajackarmy]

Joe Allen for Swansea City AFC

[the-opposite-and-the-mirror]

Nyah Fairwood Bane - The Opposite and The Mirror

An updated version of this set.

[formeryelpers]

Fairwood Café, 35204 Newark Blvd, Newark, CA 94560

Fairwood Café is a Hong Kong café that opened in 2015. It has the look and feel of a Chinese diner. The menu includes sandwiches, porridge, sizzling plates, spaghetti, rice plates, fried rice, chow fun/mein, macaroni/ramen/udon, and hot and cold drinks.

Hot Hong Kong style milk tea (large, $3.50): big cup of hot, strong, sweet milk tea (sweetened with condensed milk). They sweetened it for you. I prefer to add my own condensed milk.

Pork & preserved egg porridge ($10.75): a smaller size, broken down and fairly thick. It was on the bland side but decent, with big chunks of preserved egg, scallions, and seasoned pork (shredded). There was no white pepper on any of the tables. The pork tasted like it was leftover.

Fairwood Café is in a strip mall with plenty of parking. It might be cash only, though I didn’t see a sign that said cash only. The décor is interesting – colorful but the colors aren’t complementary. It seemed clean. There were some handwritten specials on whiteboards but they were in Chinese only.

3 out of 5 stars

By Lolia S.

[greatworldwar2]

• No. 125 Newfoundland Squadron RAF

Motto: Nunquam domandi ("Never to be tamed")

Squadron Codes: FN (Apr 1939 – Sep 1939) VA (Jun 1941 – Nov 1945)

Number 125 (Newfoundland) Squadron was a Royal Air Force squadron active during World War II and briefly in the mid-1950s. Throughout its service the squadron primarily operated night fighters. No. 125 Squadron was initially formed at Old Sarum, Wiltshire on 1 February 1918 as a light bomber squadron of the Royal Flying Corps. It was planned for the squadron to become operational and deploy to France in September however it was instead disbanded on 1 August 1918, thus never seeing active service in the First World War.

No. 125 Squadron was reformed on June 16th, 1941 at RAF Colerne equipped with Bolton-Paul Defiant night fighters. The squadron was raised as a result of a war loan raised by the Newfoundland Commission of Government in 1940. After discovering a surplus of revenue, the commission presented the British Government with $500,000 to establish a squadron with the hope that it would be manned by Newfoundlanders. This hope was realised with at least a dozen Newfoundlanders flying with No. 125 Squadron in its early days along with a contingent of English, Scottish, Welsh, Commonwealth and Polish pilots. Volunteers from Newfoundland and Labrador died at a higher rate while serving with the Royal Air Force (RAF) than with any other branch of the British Armed Forces during the war. On 24 September 1941, the squadron moved to RAF Fairwood Common, Wales and became fully operational, with the Defiant proving to be a more than effective night fighter. By February 1942, No. 125 Squadron began to convert over to the twin-engined Bristol Beaufighter, with these becoming operational by April. Defiants and Hawker Hurricanes were also used to supplement the Beaufighters in the squadron's patrols. With an increasing number of Newfoundlanders being found in No. 125 Squadron's ranks, some aircrew began to name their aircraft in recognition of their Newfoundland heritage: St, John's, Corner Brook, Deer Lake and Buchans were some of the names they used. From October to December 1942, the squadron operated a detachment at RAF Sumburgh in the Shetland Islands.

No. 125 Squadron moved north to RAF Valley in November 1943 in order to carry out patrols over the Irish Sea. While based here the squadron operated a detachment from RAF Ballyhalbert in Northern Ireland. Despite being a 'Newfoundland' squadron, by November 1943 only 5 of the 30 aircrew were from Newfoundland as well as 45 of the roughly 200 ground crew came from the Dominion. With a conversion to de Havilland Mosquito night fighters in February 1944, No. 125 Squadron moved south to RAF Hurn, Dorset at the end of March. This was in preparation to cover the Operation Overlord landings in Normandy. In April, No. 125 Squadron had their caribou squadron badge officially approved by King George VI. The squadron also participated in intercepting Operation Steinbock raids from January to May 1944. With a bridgehead secured in France and with the commencement of V-1 flying bomb attacks on London, the squadron moved to RAF Middle Wallop in July 1944 to fly night time interceptions.

On October 18th, 1944, No. 125 Squadron moved to RAF Coltishall, Norfolk. From Coltishall the squadron defended against enemy intruders and Heinkel He 111s carrying flying bombs, as well as undertaking reconnaissance to locate the remainder of German shipping. In April 1945, No. 125 Squadron transferred up to RAF Church Fenton in Yorkshire. Here it saw out the war before disbanding for the second time on 20 November 1945 when its aircraft and personnel were renumbered to No. 264 Squadron. By the end of the war No. 125 Squadron had managed to score 44 victories, 5 probables and 20 damaged. No. 125 Squadron reformed in March 1955 as a night fighter unit once more. While based at Stradishall, the squadron operated alongside fellow night fighter units No. 89 Squadron and No. 152 Squadron, as well as No. 245 Squadron. The Squadron was disbanded for the final time in May 1957.

[swanqueenelmaxshadowhunters]

If Maryse has to go then I want her to die in Jocelyn's arms and a secret love confession. I won't accept less

Rest in Peace Maryse Lightwood you will be missed 🙏🙏

[xoxoladyaz]

Steddie Bigbang #177: Infernally Yours is HERE!

Finally, after months of work I am SO HAPPY to start publishing my contribution to @steddiebang, a post-Season 3 AU in which Hopper doesn't go to Russia, the Byers family stays in Hawkins, and Steve Harrington finally agrees to play DnD with Hellfire. Chapters 1 and 2 are up today, chapters 3 and 4 will go up on the 9th, and the last two chapters (and the epilogue) will be posted on the 16th.

Here's the link to the story on Ao3 and a preview below :) I can't wait to see what you all think!

Listen. Steve Harrington knew that he had some sins to pay for, okay? He was kind of a stuck-up shit for most of high school and while he didn’t go out of his way to, like, ruin anybody’s day – cough, cough, Tommy Hagan – he also didn’t really reach out to anyone who needed help either. He’d led on a lot of girls before Nance, too, and if judging by the fact that the only girls he dated these days wanted a good time and not a long time, well, he had some work to do on the whole “relationship” and “finding everlasting love” front. But he’s done the work to be better! Granted, a lot of the work consisted of him getting beaten up and/or tortured by other people while protecting a group of unthankful little shitheads, but it’s still progress. And, not to brag, but he got Robin Buckley as a best friend out of the whole thing, so really, Steve Harrington’s not doing so bad on the whole “redemption” thing, thank you.

So why, why does the universe continue to torment him?

“ – and that’s when Lorcan Fairwood used Horde Breaker to fire into the pack of gnolls, dealing five points of damage to Kazar, the gnoll pack leader, and then Eddie said - ”

“Dingus,” Robin hissed, knocking her elbow into Steve’s and dislodging him from his thoughts. “Get Dingus Junior to knock-it-off with this dork talk before I knock him into the recent returns.”

Groaning, Steve rubbed his palms against his dry eyes and braced for impact. “We got it, Henderson, Munson’s the best thing to ever happen to Dorks and Demons - ”

“ – Dungeons and Dragons, Steve, I know that you know that’s what it’s called - ”

“ – and as much as I like hanging out with you, dude, these multi-hour play-by-plays aren’t convincing me that this nerd shit is, like, fun or whatever,” he finished with a sigh. Robin shot him an exasperated but grateful look and then slid her newest stack of freshly rewound returns his way.

“Shelving time, doinkus.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolled his eyes and reached for the stack.

Dustin snorted and kicked at the front of his desk, which, the attitude on this kid, seriously. “Guess Eddie was right.” 

Steve froze. What the hell does that mean?

“What the hell does that mean?”

Dustin snorted again before spinning to face Steve, his hands falling to his hips. “Eddie said says that jocks only care about other jocks. And jock stuff.”

“Hey, okay, first of all, there’s only one of us that’s actually saved your life multiple times and it’s not Eddie Munson, so jot that down,” Steve snapped, dropping the tapes back onto the counter (and ignoring Robin’s yelp as they tumbled everywhere). “And second, just because we don’t have the same interests doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, man. That’s a shit thing to say.”

Henderson folded inward, his eyes dropping towards the ground and voice losing its normal intensity. “Sorry, Steve.”

“And third – look, Henderson,” Steve sighed at Dustin’s drooping. (Look, he was a little shithead with the biggest ego in every room, but he was Steve’s little shithead and he hated to see him upset – even when it was his own fault.) “Maybe it isn’t like, totally boring in the moment or whatever, but getting a two-hour play by play after your game every Saturday isn’t doing a whole lot to convince me, man.”

“Well,” Dustin perked up slightly and cleared his throat, “we’re always looking for new members - ”

“Nope, no way.”

“Steve,” Henderson’s whining was out in full force now, “it would be so much fun! You wouldn’t even have to do that much work; I could help you get started and - ”

“No.”

“ – seriously, I can make you a character sheet so fast, and our party could really use another fighter anyways - ”

“No, Henderson!”

“ – besides, we haven’t gotten to hang out with you as much now that school started, and you know that Will’s having a hard time because everyone keeps calling him ‘Zombie Boy’ and he would be so excited to have you playing with us - ”

Shit, he’s pulling out the Zombie Boy card. Shit, shit, shit.

“Henderson - ”

“ – and, you know, I totally believe you and everything but Mike is pretty convinced that you’re still an asshole, especially with everything Eddie’s said, and this could be your chance to prove him wrong!” Dustin finished emphatically, his chest puffing with exertion.

Steve shot an exasperated look over the top of the Horror section towards Robin, who was pouting in mock-agreement with Dustin.

Traitor.

Sighing, Steve shoved Friday the 13th onto the shelf and dropped his gaze towards Dustin. “One game.”

Dustin let out a loud whoop, hopping in place and punching wildly at the air. “YES!”

“Just one game, Henderson, that’s it.”

“I’LL TAKE IT!” Letting out an even louder victory cry, Dustin raced for the door. “I’m going to get working on your character sheet right now – Wednesday, 3:30 in the drama room,” Dustin said, whirling around to point at Steve. “You’ll be there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there.”

“YES! Don’t worry Steve, you won’t regret this!” Dustin beamed and then he was out the door, disappearing into the October sun.

[griseldagimpel]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Simon Fairchild, Martin Blackwood/Simon Fairchild/The Vast Characters: Martin Blackwood, Simon Fairchild, The Vast (The Magnus Archives) Additional Tags: Smut, BDSM, Dom/sub, Mile High Club Summary:

Simon Fairchild can't get Martin Blackwood out of his mind, so he invites him to an outing aboard his plane.

Set near the end of the Season 4, sometime between "Big Picture" and "Rotten Core".

[tag-that-oc]

I wanna ramble about two of my characters for a moment because I feel like I don't get the chance to talk about them much. And I just love my kids so much.

So you have Tanya Fairwood, and Valerie Lovedoll; two girls that live in a fantastical world full of magic, and they both go to a magic school. Tanya ended up there while running from her past and when Valerie met her it was like love at first sight (for Valerie at least). But she and their friends would find out very quickly that Tanya is very self-sacrificing, that combined with a prophecy that dictates that she'll sacrifice herself to save the world? Not a recipe for anything good.

I feel like the story truly starts when Tanya actually DOES manage to do just that (and im not even there yet, sadge). Because what Tanya DOESN'T know is that in that future, her friends hated the fact that she's no longer around, so they delved into forbidden magics to find a way to bring her back -- and the only way they could find, was time travel. Valerie, now a grown up, decides to step up and go back in time to save her. FURTHER ON, it won't just be once or twice or thrice that she fails. But multiple times when she had to watch Tanya die for a prophecy that, as they would discover, wasn't even solved even with the sacrifice.

There's also a bit where Tanya would meet "herself" in the space in between those time loops and discover that she's trapped in a timeloop... And there's so much more to it than just that, I so love my convoluted plots *sobs*

oh that sounds really really cool i LOVE convoluted plots and time travel and all that. and not giving up on someone even after they've died is just SO good. i love everything about this

[the-opposite-and-the-mirror]

Every time I see this I think of these two Parabatai:

Nyah Fairwood Bane and Max Lightwood - The Opposite and The Mirror

Is this NOT jude and cardan

[yescrazycatlady10]

Heart To Fart! A Tales From Fairwood Short! (2024)

[kateelliottsff]

The History of the World Begins in Ice

I’m delighted to announce that, in Summer 2024, Fairwood Press will be publishing a collection of stories and essays from the Spiritwalker (Cold Magic) universe, titled

THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD BEGINS IN ICE:

Stories and Essays from the World of Cold Magic.

That’s right! A collection of fiction and non fiction from and about my Afro-Celtic post-Roman icepunk adventure set in an alt-fantasy 19th century Earth alongside a perilous spirit world, and including Phoenician spies, well-dressed men, revolutionary-minded women, and of course lawyer dinosaurs.

The collection will be published in a trade paperback edition and an ebook edition. It will contain eleven stories and eleven essays, as well as an introduction by N.K. Jemisin.

Each story will have an illustration by a different artist. The collection will include “The Secret Journal of Beatrice Hassi Barahal” with all 28 of the original Julie Dillon illustrations, previously published only in a 300 copy chapbook edition. Here’s the narrator of the trilogy, Cat Barahal, as drawn by Julie Dillon.

Nine of the eleven stories were previously published. The other two are being written specifically for this collection.

If there is enough interest, Fairwood Press will produce a limited edition deluxe hardcover edition with two extra color plates (by Julie Dillon), a fold out triptych (by Kelsey Liggett), and a chapbook insert of the infamous smut chapter, “Chapter 31.5,” from Cold Fire. I can’t promise exact figures (and recent cost of paper increases may mean my guess is way out of date) but likely in the $40-50 range for a book of about 100,000 words.

You can express interest here (comment below or reply via email) or by writing directly to Fairwood Press. If you are interested, please (if you can) write in as soon as possible since creating a deluxe edition will take additional work, monetary investment, and time (that we would be delighted to take on).

Pre-order information will come as soon as it is available.

I first started thinking in autumn 2018 about producing this collection with a Fall 2020 publication date to coincide with the 10th anniversary of the publication of Cold Magic. Events conspired against me at the time, by which I mean I didn’t have the energy or time to move forward with it.

So I am incredibly thrilled to work with Patrick Swenson and Fairwood Press to bring this long-dreamt-of project to life and share it with all of you Spiritwalker fans.

[musicblogwales]

Track By Track: Tom Emlyn 'Rehersal For The Rain: Scardycat, Vol 2

Swansea Singer-Songwriter and Storyteller 'Tom Emlyn' has released his latest album 'Rehearsal For The Rain: Scaredycat, Vol 2 and will be released digitally, on Cassette alongside a short story called 'Phosphoresence'. The album is available now from Bandcamp.

We've been honoured for an exclusive Track by Track of the album.

Following the release of his recent single 'Double-Crossed', Welsh singer-songwriter Tom Emlyn releases his new album 'Rehearsal For The Rain: Scaredycat, Vol.2'. The self-produced record is his fourth solo effort in the space of two years, continuing an impressive streak of creativity and inspiration.

Tom Emlyn's fourth album in two years,Rehearsal For The Rain: Scaredycat Vol. 2is a self-produced, powerful, fully realised creative statement.

In summer 2022, Tom released his debut solo album ‘News From Nowhere’, a bittersweet love letter to his hometown of Swansea, described by Adam Walton (BBC Radio Wales) as a record of “undoubted brilliance, eloquence and energy”. It has been positively received, with airplay and support from Radio Wales, BBC Horizons, R.E.P.E.A.T. fanzine, God Is In The TV, and Joyzine, among others. Tom’s second album ‘I’ve Seen You In Town’ followed quickly– a more mellow, acoustic affair which was also well received. He also released the ‘Scounger EP’on Bandcamp last February.

His latest record follows hot on the heels of Return Journey Revisited: Scaredycat Vol 1, which was released in May 2023. In the same vein as the first volume, Rehearsal For The Rain gathers up lost fragments from years of songwriting and making music.

Featuring recent single 'Double-Crossed' with its tender vocals, introspective lyrics caressing a daydreaming guitar motif, and lo-fi percussion it explores the darker side of self-reflection to a stripped back Velvet Underground-inspired groove. The album is a dreamlike, lo-fi psychedelic bedroom pop journey, with elements of prog, blues, indie and alternative folk."Peripatetic musical genius" - Adam Walton

Track By Track: Tom Emlyn | Rehersal For The Rain: Scardycat Vol 2

Fire On Fairwood Common

If you travel from Swansea along Gower Road, through Uplands, Sketty and Killay, Fairwood Common is the first part of the Gower Peninsula you'll encounter - a rugged, wind-swept heath dotted with gorse and abandoned airstrips. This is the oldest song on this album. Originally I wrote it when I went away to university. It was meant to be a song about leaving home and the way that things shift and change while you're away. A coming-of-age kind of song. I came back home for a visit and the Swansea Evening Post  were reporting a huge fire on the common, although I don't think they knew whether it was an accident or intentional. Probably some bored teenagers messing around. It seemed a destructive and uncanny image that was fitting for the changes I was going through.

The recording originally dates from 2016, a time when I was playing in a more prog rock style, which is explains the mellotron and the bouncy Jethro Tull-esque middle section. I added heavier, darker fuzzed and flange guitars and the chaotic Korg Monotron synth much more recently. When I originally wrote the song, there were many more lyrics painting the picture of domestic change, but it served the song to strip them away and just have the direct simplicity of 'there's a fire on fairwood common / gorse bushes burning in the dark / there's a fire on fairwood common / and I'm not home.' 

The original lyrics were just too on the nose, I think. Here's a sample; 'I've been home for a day, and things are changing / petrol shortages and mortgages / my pets are all dead, buried at midnight / childhood pets, adult silhouettes.' It works better as a more abstract, open song, allowing the sweeping warble of the synth to take the lead. This stripping-away of weaker lyrics is something I did a few times on this album.

2. Hall of Mirrors

Another song with a long history. The recording dates back to 2017, but I added some heavier guitars doubling what I played on the bass when I tried to record it originally, which gave it the grounding it was missing for a while. I envisioned the song originally as "sci-fi skiffle", whatever that is, although it's got a heavier feel to it now. I wanted to write something carnivalesque, a song that deals with the ways we can be reflected in the internet and social media, like a grotesque funhouse attraction. We're all reflected in the screens of our black mirrors, but they reflect and distort back onto us as well.

There are some interesting sounds in the recording, including saxophone on the outro and flute by Swansea musician Felix Subway. The Korg Monotron synth makes another appearance, and there are some bleeps and swooshing noises which were made by a smartphone app that created glitchy electronic sounds. The percussion was added recently. We recorded it all in our flat in Riverside, Cardiff. Instead of using a drumkit, we just added every percussion instrument we had to hand - djembe, triangle, bongo, kick drum, cajon, snare, cabasa, vibraslap, claps. It added a lot of weight to the track.

There's a mention in the lyrics of a certain Swansea music venue which was just an incidental throwaway at the time. However the venue has more recently gone down the misinformation/ antivax/ right wing rabbit hole. An interesting incidence of a lyric becoming more apposite with the passing of time, and more appropriate to the theme of the song, funnily enough.

3. Kafka  

The recording of this was all done last year, but the song has been around for much longer. A fairly standard blues affair, I've come back to the lyric many times but always given it a new arrangement, appropriate for the circular nature of the words. This final version is a satisfying garage-rock vamp; I'm really happy with the super-distorted lo-fi harmonica, recorded with a Bullet mic, and the overall gritty, angular production. It's got a poppy structure that just feels right. I layered two drum takes over each other to make it extra chaotic, and Evan played a funky bassline. I also used the Bullet harmonica mic on vocals all over the album. At the end of Kafka, you can just about hear a radio broadcast coming through my guitar pickups as the song fades out.

4. Rehearsal For The Rain

Another song which originally had more lyrics. Here's a sample; 'time is a waitress / and my table is served last / but after all it's just a reminder / the guitar is still in the garden / swollen and warped, the keys won't turn'. I think it works a lot better with a very spare and sparse approach. It's almost an instrumental now, with only four words - 'rehearsal for the rain'. I think it was called 'rehearsing for the rain' at some point, but it didn't really sing as well. I don't know what it means. Performing for nobody, or your audience only being the natural world, or something. Maybe the rain itself is just a rehearsal for some future cataclysmic flood.

I put a bit of phaser on the cymbals for a nice washy effect. The track overall has a really cinematic feel. I think it takes you on a dreamlike journey, moving through 4 different sections that feel melancholy and celebratory at the same time. The warbly Casio synth in the middle is really nice. We overlaid cymbals in the middle and used timpani sticks. The electric guitar tones were done with a tiny solid state Vox amp.

5. Chemical Road

This tune is from the same 2017 sessions as Hall of Mirrors. I originally wrote this when I was sitting on a bus going through Morriston in Swansea. I saw a street sign that said 'Chemical Road' and it made me contemplate how strange and toxic-sounding a name that was for a place for human beings to live. I started thinking about post-industrialism and decay, and it turned into this kind of dreamlike, fragmentary kitchen-sink drama about two romantically-entangled characters separated by the mundanity of their surroundings. I like the image of 'an orange river flowed', which is really something from my childhood memories.

All the chords in the verse are 9th chords, which gives it a lovely open jazzy feel. At one point there was a sax solo in the middle, which has been deleted.

While I was recording the song in the YMCA in Swansea, some children were playing outside. We stuck a microphone next to the window and recorded the sound of their laughter. At some point, though, the file was lost.

There's no proper drumkit on the song, only toms.

6. Llangennith (intermission)

An ambient instrumental based around guitar harmonics with different delays applied. I did think it was quite long, but cutting it down would take away from the meditative repetition of it all. There's some interesting sounds including some keyboard chords placed in a random order. My ex-girlfriend built me a diddly-bow, which is like a primitive one-string slide guitar. It created some interesting textural effects with a bit of processing, sounding almost like a windchime at some points. Llangennith is a beach in North Gower where I used to work in a beach cafe for several summers - the same subject as my short story Phosphorescence which I'm releasing along with the album. I thought it would be nice to have an intermission on the record, a bit like the intermission in Monty Python and the Holy Grail or 2001: A Space Odyssey. Another cinematic touch. A chance for listeners to go and grab a coffee or beer in-between the more fleshed-out tracks. It's fitting that the track is named after a period that was an intermission in my life, in a way.

7. I Don't Want To Be A Rockstar

This lyric was based on my memory of my school leaving assembly. The teachers made a cheesy leaving video in which they all mimed to the song 'Rockstar' by Nickleback. It's an exploration of that - rejecting the general prescribed idea of success and more specifically of musical ambition. This song was originally called Rockstar as well, but I thought it was a bit bland. The new title 'I Don't Want To Be A Rockstar' might sound a bit negative, but if you listen to the lyrics, the other half of the title is 'I Just Want To Play My Guitar', so really it's a rejection of the rockstar image and mythos in favour of just being a musician and a craftsman, playing music rather than pursuing a self-destructive myth. Although I probably still do want to be a rockstar, admittedly. It's a self-deprecating and ironic title. 

Recorded in lockdown, we added drums more recently. My drummer Jack said the song sounds like a band being forced to play a song. We ended up deleting all the drums except the ridiculous Nirvana-esque heavy middle section, which comes out of nowhere. I think he played it like that originally as a joke, but it made the song much better.

8. It Came Back To Me

Inspired by the Kinks, this was another lockdown project. Musically a bit complex - every section is in a different key, following on from the section before, which took a while to figure out structurally. It's an abstract Southwalian drama, inspired by looking out across derelict rooftops and tenement buildings, imagining the dreams and interior lives of the people that live in them. Lyrically, it deals with maintaining the fragility of your innocence in a decaying world.

9. Double-Crossed

Written in lockdown, this was a Velvet Underground-esque groove. The lyrics were sparked by realising I'd never walked down a cul-de-sac near where I grew up, even though it was just over the road. It made me wonder about the people that lived there, and their internal lives. So close, yet so far away. This, combined with some of my thoughts about the isolation of lockdown, became a brooding, thoughtful, poetic tune. It's a song about betraying yourself - there's a double meaning there. Betraying yourself in the sense of stabbing yourself in the back, but also giving too much of yourself away or exposing yourself. The song is a confessional, epic ballad with some glam rock undertones.

10. Somewhere There's A Dry Shore

This was meant to be a proper song with lyrics, but the only words I ever wrote were 'walking down the M4 / when the sky begins to pour'. I couldn't get any further than that for some reason, so rather than force it, I decided it worked best as an instrumental. It was inspired by the chords of 'Hesitation Blues' by Dave Van Ronk. Originally recorded by Dave Milsom for Death Monkey records, it's a fitting end to the album. Like the closing credits of a film.

Buy 'Rehearsal For The Rain: Scaredycat, Vol 2 Here

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