#i love player pianos

[dinosaurwithablog]

I haven't seen a player piano in a very long time. I used to enjoy watching the keys move as I listened to the music. This video has taught me how a player piano works!! Thank you, OP!! This is very cool!! 😁😍

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

When dave "don't read too much into it" chella was first announced I would have said there's no way the Irving playlist would ever contain anything with "heaven" or "angel" in the title. Way too on the nose, right? This is supposed to be serious. However now that he put The Secret Marriage on the Bridgens playlist all bets are off. I'm almost certain there will be one put there specifically to harm and torment us.

But what exactly will it be I wonder. Tears In Heaven? Angel Of The Morning? Will he throw us a curveball with a Stairway To Heaven?? HALO BY BEYONCE??? If Spirit In The Sky is on there I'm legally allowed to throw myself into the ocean.

[more-sonorous]

pianist davey jacobs haunting my brain. he’s got long fingers and pale skin and creeping veins and freckles and he plays so beautifully, like that man’s music is an extension of himself and it charms fucking everyoneeee that listens to it! his elegant posture and the way he works the music through his fingers? impossibly pretty.

they didn’t have a piano in the apartment so he learned through long hours sitting at the synagogue and using theirs. he knows chopin and rachmaninov but he can play a mean ragtime when the boys at the lodging house want to dance and he falls in love with tin pan alley and jazz once they come around

such an elegant fuckin instrument for an elegant boy and Jack or Kath or whomever could just sit and listen and watch for hours. how could you not fall in love with him once he’s got his sleeves rolled up and he’s smiling as he plays his favorite pieces? or when he’s tipsy and fucking up every other measure while he plays ragtime but god if it isn’t attractive how he’s keeping it together? the piano belongs to goddamn davey jacobs and even if it’s unrealistic I ain’t budging

jack paints out his emotions and katherine writes them and davey, davey goddamn jacobs plays them

[vagueeyes]

Reece Shearsmith as Jonah Quigley INSIDE NO. 9 | S9E5 "The Curse of the Ninth"

[cordyceph]

went to bed and woke up in a cold sweat realizing that claudia's play, the birdie one, is both a direct analogy for her story and also foreshadowing of her death WHILE ALSO nodding to pauls death

claudia'a single minded, desperate drive for freedom eventually lead her directly to her death. she was "nailed down" by lestat (by LOUIS, actually- lestat only kept her for him.), and tore herself free at the loss of her 'foot,' being a stand in for the personal pain she suffered for freedom

no matter what she or anyone did, she was going to die painfully, because she was so desperate to be free that everything was suffocating. lestat, louis, romania, the coven. the only thing that didnt rot in her mind was madeline, because... there simply wasnt time. madeline was fresh and new and, given time, would have probably suffered the same heel-turn claudia gave to everything.

of course thats because she shared louis' hopeful outlook. being free of her parents? would fix everything. when it didn't? maybe if she had louis, it would be worth it. but its not, lestats still here, louis is still in love with him... killing lestat, thatll fix it, and she and louis will be happy in romania, right, the homeland for vampirekind? not quite, so better try paris, the city of love. that doesnt work. the coven, though, will give her what she wants, right? she'll be happy with other vampires?

the only person who makes her happy is? a modern version of lestat? a weird white woman she met on happenstance, who has little to no care for societal norms or faux pas. a blunt, kind of funny, kind of sad woman who lost her family but has a capacity for enduring because what else is she going to do? die? no, she cant do that. she had no friends because she was weird and offputting and had dangerous rumors, no hangups on loving claudia, no hangups on dying or being a killer.

that's... just lestat. without the immortality and the specific traumas, of course, but like. claudia's most beloved person was a funhouse mirror of her most hated. which really speaks volumes for what they could have had, because it wasnt just a clash of personalities. it was lestats bpd clashing with hers and both of their attachment to louis clashing. if lestat had been better at sharing, if louis had been better at loving both of them, if claudia had been less angry at the world for nothing but existing? maybe they could have been a good family. a happy one forever, just like they all wanted, but were unable to give each other

[oh-cannibal-my-cannibal]

if nobody hears from me for a few months, assume i'm busy learning the piano sheet music for the ENTIRE epic the musical

[valewritessss]

What instrument do we think characters would play just as a hobby

[kayvsworld]

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

[brknelct4444]

[adashulaz]

I named the Pianist Herod because it means song of the hero and thought it fits(yes I googled names that had something to do with music)

Herod watched as Steb went through the crates, the fear of being caught was slowly creeping up his throat. It isn't helping that Steb was throwing different jars to the side carelessly. Herod held back a cringe when he heard one crack, they were going to be caught and then get in trouble for it. Herod froze when he heard a door open, he glanced at Steb before turning to the door and walking towards it.

“Commander!” He greeted, he could still hear Steb tossing jars faintly. Commander Kiramman stared at him, a brow raised as her girlfriend soon walked up behind her. Herod saw a slight look of amusement on her face. “Someone said they saw two people walk in here, two regular enforcers.” The woman spoke, her tone light. Commander Kiramman seemed more inconvenienced than amused.

That's when a loud crash could be heard. Herod looked back at the source for a second before rushing towards it, Commander Kiramman and her girlfriend close behind. Steb was standing a few feet away from a fallen crate, its contents on the floor as he simply nudged the closest thing to him with his foot. “Steb what the hell happened?” Herod let out a small sigh of relief, Steb seemed irked at the spilled contents before looking at him.

《It fell, you should tell the shippers to make their crates more stable.》 Steb moved his hands quickly before returning to his search. Herod wanted to tell Steb to stop for a moment, their Commander was right there but he didn't seem to care. Herod glanced at Commander Kiramman to see her look slightly relieved. “Maybe you should just be more careful Steb.” Her voice was slightly firm but held a teasing tone, like she was talking to a friend. It confused him but he kept his confusion to himself, Steb only ever mentioned being friends with Vi, Kirammans girlfriend, not Kiramman herself.

Steb only gave a dismissive wave of his hand, tossing different things to the side carelessly. Herod only watched as Stebs ears went down a bit, his facial fins fluttering a bit. The other was getting agitated due to being unable to find what he was looking for. “How about you take a break?” Herod took a few steps closer to him. Steb only let out a noise of agitation.

Herod tensed when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, he glanced at the person to see Vi squeezing his shoulder. She was holding him in place while Steb continued with his task. Herod only shrugged her hand off, he didn't want her to touch him. It was nothing against her, he just didn't like when someone he barely knew touched him. “You should listen to your boyfriend, you'll just get more agitated if you keep going.” Vi’s voice was soft, like she was talking to someone much younger than her. Stebs ears twitched a bit as he turned to look at her, his facial fins were flared and twitched a bit.

《Go eat your girlfriend out.》 He turned away from them, simply moving between the crates and opening a new one. Herod saw how both Kiramman and Vi seemed flustered and irked. “I'm just trying to help.” Steb only let out a noise that was a mix of a groan and a hiss. A noise that Herod quickly learned meant Steb was willing to get physical if pressed any further.

Herod gently nudged her, trying to get her to stop. Steb almost ripped out someone's throat because they kept irritating him so he knows Steb will make the same attempt to Vi, friendship be damned. Vi seemed to catch on because she shook her head and went back to Kirammans side, throwing her arm around the girl. Herod watched as Steb tossed thing after thing, cringing every time he heard something crack. Steb didn't seem to care, only getting more and more agitated when he didn't find the thing he wanted. Herod couldn't help but let out a small sigh, ready to pull Steb away from the crates.

“Finally!” Stebs voice broke the silence. He turned towards them, his features seemed softer with his joy. Stebs ears were up, his facial fins fluttering as he let out a noise that was a mix of a coo and squeal. Herod smiled a bit when Steb held up a jar filled to the brim with a mix of different herbs. Herod couldn't help but smile as Steb continued making his noise of joy as he held the jar of herbs. “You found it.” Steb walked over to Herod, the jar in both hands. Herod could see the webbing on Stebs hands, it covered some of the herbs.

Steb grabbed his elbow and headed for the door, leaving Vi and Kiramman with the mess. “Shouldn't we help clean up?” Herod didn't mind getting out of cleaning but he also didn't want to get in trouble. Steb only glanced at him, his excitement still evident on his face. “No.” Steb only quickened his pace, dragging Herod along.

Herod couldn't help but smile at the action, Steb continuing his noise of joy at the jar of herbs. It made his heart swell, he adored all of Steb and hearing all of the noises he made to express how he felt. Herod felt lucky to be able to hear those noises so easily.

[moonfang256]

Dreams about Deltarune (Part 8)

The following dream seems to be a continuation of the previous one that I showed in the previous post:

I’ve called this dream:

“Confrontation”

This dream started with me and Kris in their room inside Castle Town, but we weren't actually there, we were inside their mind. They were pretty upset that I had intruded into their nightmare, when they were at their most vulnerable moment.

That's what they told me, but I didn't respond.

Apparently they trapped me in their mind and left me in this deplorable state. The least I did was to move the chains a bit and continue crying silently about the situation. I felt like a wolf caught in a trap, accepting its fate at the hands of the hunter, waiting for the final blow, but they did nothing.

Seeing me like that seemed to have affected them greatly, because they immediately calmed down, changed their expression to a sad-hurtful one, and said nothing more. It seemed like they didn't like what they were doing very much, and perhaps what hurt them most was the fact I didn't even try to escape, fight or do anything with them, despite being completely under their control. It was like watching a reflection of themselves in me, which is ironic considering that in real life I’m someone like Kris.

This is going to be a bit long, but let me give you the context (venting coming):

--------

Throughout my life, I’ve gone through many bad and strong experiences. Somewhat similar to those the Deltarune’s characters had and are going through now:

And despite everything, I identify and empathize more with Kris for the things I’ll tell below:

--------

It’s for things like these that I can’t hate or blame Kris for what they do, because as far as I’m concerned, I adore this apple-pie gremlin. I want to comfort and be there for them when they need it. I know they might also have megalomaniacal tendencies, but I’ve the tools to handle it and pacify the heck out of them if necessary (I already did it with Flowey in Undertale, they'll be next).

--------

Now, you might be wondering: How did it all end?

The answer is in the next and last dream that I’ll show, since it seems that Kris repented, spared me, cut the chains and asked me to show them more calmly what I want from them.

(I guess it's not easy to face someone who could be your freaky mirror self, but different).

[more-sonorous]

rag, boy, rag (can you teach me how to play?)- davey angst

(been thinking about David playing piano at a jatherine wedding pretty much nonstop recently so have a sliver of the long dissertation I wrote about it)

…..

The first time David Jacobs ever wanted to flat-out refuse to play the piano came when he was twenty years old on a lunch break between lectures, sitting on a bench in New York City with Jack Kelly by his side and a pretzel in his hand.

“Hey, listen, Dave– I’m real glad you could find some time to meet me.” Jack said almost seriously, absentmindedly brushing a few strands of his dark hair away from his perfect eyebrows.

“Of course. Though– I don’t see why this couldn’t have waited until Friday, you know it’s Kathy and I’s book club night.” He glanced up at his friend rather admonishingly as he tore a piece of his pretzel off, trying not to focus on how beautiful Jack’s honey-brown eyes looked in the sun.

David had planned to stop doting on this boy quite some time ago, but he’d done a rotten job of kicking his affections down. It seemed that at twenty he was more in love with Jack than he was at seventeen, which was simply no good because he was in love with Jack’s fianceé, too. There was no woman more beautiful than Katherine Pulitzer, and David stood by that belief. He also believed that there was no man more lovely than Jack Kelly, and so he found himself hopelessly head over heels despite his own reservations.

Jack’s easy smile turned almost nervous. “Well, it’s about the wedding, so I sorta wanted it to be just us.”

“Oh.” David felt his own smile slip and falter. He’d been dreading this moment and their intense eye contact instantly became too much. Jack was going to want to talk about his wedding eventually. He and Kath had been planning for weeks and according to Racetrack, they were both knee-deep in it and very excited. It was honestly a miracle neither of them had brought it up yet. Squirming in his skin, David firmly directed his sights on his own scuffed shoes. “Alright, what about the wedding?”

“Well– I want ya’ to be my best man.” Jack said, very simply, and when David didn’t smile or react at all, really, he cleared his throat. “Y’know, since you’re my best friend and all. You’re my best man day-to-day, so why shouldn’t ya’ be in my wedding?”

He swallowed the hard lump in his throat as his traitorous brain slammed him with images of Jack and Kath, happily dolled up in white and black, enjoying the best day of their lives as David wallowed in misery by Jack’s side. Just the thought made him feel a little bit nauseous, and that nausea only grew as he imagined himself having to stand up and give a speech about how happy he was for them. Of course, David was happy for them. He loved them, and they were happy, so how could he not be happy?

He was happy, but he was jealous and lonely and miserable too. There was no earthly way he’d give a speech that did Jack and Katherine justice. In fact, he’d been considering not attending the wedding at all. Finding an excuse. He didn’t need to be in the picture— he was horrible at masking his emotions. He’d just be a sad, morose lump, sucking all of the fun out of the night. They didn’t deserve that. But Jack was looking at him so hopefully and he knew that skipping his best friend’s biggest day was an offense he couldn’t commit.

David dug the toe of his boot into the brick beneath them. “I… I can’t make a speech, Jack.”

“That’s fine!” Jack reassured nearly instantly, grabbing Davey’s pant leg with fervor and leaning in like this was the most important thing he’d ever done. “Seriously, Dave, fine by me. No speech!”

How could he tell Jack no more firmly? He was starting to spiral into panic. “I can’t– I can’t stand up there in front of everyone at the wedding, either. I’m not– I’ll panic, and that’ll ruin your big day.” Now Jack looked positively distraught. This was falling apart fast. David gritted his teeth tightly and awkwardly, painfully took Jack’s hand in his own. “Jackie, I’m still going to be there–”

“But I want ya’ in the wedding, Davey. Not just at it–”

“I– um– I was thinking–” He was blabbering before he could think, some subconscious part of him trying to soothe Jack’s miserable expression. “Well, I was thinking before you asked me about this, that maybe I could just play piano for you? So… so you don’t hafta hire some other musician. And if it’s me, you can tell me all the pieces you want to hear sooner than you could tell a stranger…”

Jack seemed to pause, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hair. “You mean that?”

“Sure.” He steeled in a deep breath and tried to ignore the stinging in his eyes. He did not want to be a part of this wedding at all– he’d been planning to watch the ceremony and escape after a few minutes of the celebration afterwards– but he did owe it to them. They’d been nothing but good to him for years. “Besides, um… I think Crutchie’d murder you if you didn’t give him the best man spot. Or Racer. He’d kill you faster.”

“Pfft, Crutchie and Racer can kiss my happy ass.” Jack rolled his eyes as if to affirm his point, giving David’s hand a heart-wrenching squeeze. Something akin to hope was brightening his face, dimpling his cheeks, and David sort of wanted to disappear. “But… if– if you’re sure ya’ don’t mind playin’ for free, that’d work. Shit, it would really work. And Kath loves your music, Dave. Honestly, she’d be honored to have ya’ play– we’d both be.”

Then Jack squeezed his hands again, and David felt even closer to throwing up than he did before as he managed a stilted, awkward little smile. “You… you don’t have to make a big deal out of it. I’ll take any excuse I can get to play ragtime.”

“Wait, I thought ya’ meant just the ceremony.” Jack’s brow furrowed. “I want’cha to enjoy the party after.”

“There’s nothing I enjoy more than playing the piano. Especially not parties. I hate parties, you know.” He insisted, carefully, firmly. This was a truth– a universal David Jacobs truth– and playing the piano would be the only way he’d be able to distract himself from the misery of their perfection. “Besides, I know Katherine likes Brahms waltzes, and I’d– well, um, I’d be honored to play during your first dance. So… you’ve got me for the ceremony and the reception.”

“Gee, Dave.” Jack’s smile softened into something heart-wrenchingly personal and David looked away, at the pedestrians on the street and the shouting vendor they’d purchased their lunch from. “That means a lot to me.”

“Yeah, well…” He swallowed again. Harder. “Yeah.”

[cosmicyellow]

Possibly unpopular opinion: pianists are the elite musicians. I know people love a guitarist or a drummer and that's fine and valid. But there is something about pianists that is so powerful to me. Any genre of music and pianists are just pure powerhouses. Classical? Jazz? Pop? Rap? All boosted with a pianist. They're truly incredible but I don't have the vocabulary to express my feelings NEARLY enough!!!!!!!!!

[modernmanblues]

Ray Davies in The Long Distance Piano Player (1970), written by Alan Sharp, dir. Philip Saville

[les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques]

I think it’s time to re-watch one of my favorite films of the last ten years: Pawel Pawlikowski’s Cold War (2018). It is free to stream on Amazon Prime, fwiw, but the Criterion edition is STUNNING.

[breadhalfburnt]

I LOVE MUSIC SO MUCH

I NEED TO BE ABLE TO RECREATE THE ENTIRE SONG WITH MY MOUTH.

ALL OF IT.