#the piano player/music among us

[sl-vega]

meet the bands!-introducing: C✧LESTIA

☆ y/n-the guitarist and founder of the band. Ever since you picked up a used guitar at your local music shop, you haven't been able to stop playing. You're completely self-taught, but you've managed to make it this far with only YouTube tutorials and improv so you must have some talent (of course a certain purple-haired bastard would beg to differ)

✯ lumine-the vocalist and co-founder of C✧LESTIA (not to mention your childhood bestie!). Her and her brother both took singing lessons when they were younger so she was the first (and only) person you went to when you needed a vocalist. She's the big sister of the group, and when she's not rehearsing for a gig or tuning her instrument, you can find her nagging her brother.

𓄼 furina-C✧LESTIA's bassist and former president of the drama club. She's the most recent addition to the band. Furina got into music after losing her passion for acting and she's proven to be an amazing asset to the band, and an amazing friend. Due to her former acting career, she can usually pull some strings to get you guys into certain venues.

❥ kokomi -C✧LESTIA's keyboard player, and proud member of the chess club. Despite her cute and lady-like demeanor, Kokomi adores war-games and anything involving cunning strategy. She joined when you caught her playing piano in the music room alone. Kokomi is also incredibly popular among your peers, so her joining the band immediately gave you guys a surge of popularity.

❋ yoimiya-the drummer and self-proclaimed "comedic relief" of the group. She went to middle school with you and Lumine, so when C✧LESTIA hosted auditions for a drummer, she was quick to try out. Despite having no prior music experience, she's surprisingly good at playing the drums. Her family also owns a fire-work company so she's accustomed to loud bangs and booms.

✧ mona-C✧LESTIA'S amazing manager. She claims that she only sticks around 'cuz you guys feed her, but she actually enjoys the band's company. (She won't admit this but) You guys are the first group that she's truly felt at home with, so she always risks life and limb when it comes to getting you guys gigs (even though she always plays her efforts off).

additional notes: 

-FIRST PROFILES DONE

-so proud of myself

-editing the html for this took FOREVER

-but it's worth it

-not much else that i wanna say

-just proud of this :3

masterlist

<prev ll next>

.° ༘🎧⋆₊˚ෆ-MY HEART BEATS FOR YOU

Pairing: [BASSIST!] Scaramouche x [GUITARIST!] Reader

Genre: rivals/enemies to lovers, rivals to friends to lovers, fluff, crack (?), comedy, angst (?), slowburn, high school au, band au, modern au, social media au, smau

Synopsis: You're the lead guitarist for your band, C✧LESTIA and Scaramouche is the bassist of 5WIRL. The two of your bands have a friendly rivalry, but you and Scaramouche don't. On top of being academic rivals, you and him have never been on good terms. Always one-upping each other in grades and in music. Even your bandmates have grown tired of your constant bickering with each other. But when your usual practice hub gets flooded, you and the rest of C✧LESTIA are forced to find a new place to rehearse. So when 5WIRL offers to share their studio with you who are you to refuse? Of course, this forces you to spend time with your sworn rival whether you like it or not. But maybe the two of you can overcome your differences and actually be friends?

Or maybe even more?

(OPEN) TAGLIST: @featuredtofu, @levianamor, @danfelions, @thatoneswordgirl, @lolmeowing, @bananasquash, @xiaosantenna, @glxssmemories, @kaitfae, @mujiwuji , @peaceindreams, @peaceindreams, @freyao7, @rinquin, @justpeachyteastea , @ladyninggs, @b2ne, @skyoverkill1, @scaradooche, @morallyrainyday, @adres-tia, @justadvena6, @agaygothicmushroom, @huanator, @seaofdata, @kyon-cherri, @aether-darling, @ukinya, @sketcheeee, @ibawa, @shutingstar, @eutopiastar, @kunimix, @wonderful-worlds, @ectomotive, @yourfavoritefreakyhan, @b4tm4nn, @h3xi2g0n3

[silliestsims]

The ERAS Legacy Challenge

Hello! I am an avid sims player AND a swiftie! So I thought, why not make the best of both worlds! So this legacy challenge will kind of be like the 'Not So Berry Challenge' made by Lilsimsie and Alwayssimming.

A few notes before you get into the challenge

The generations gender does not matter! Play as a boy or girl, it makes no difference!

The sims(mostly debut) are not meant to be played as Taylor! (ex: for debut I named my sim Mary from "Mary's Song" and Her love interest (who I made, but you do not have to and can be with a townie) is named Drew from "Teardrops on my Guitar."

I made the albums that are not yet Taylor's Version (as of the time writing this out) be unmarried(still in relationships or not it's your decision!)

I have specific colors taken from the album colors that should be used in most of the sim's house! You do not have to have the whole house this way though!

I had my debut sim start out as a young adult, but you can start them as an adult if you'd like!

If a like has -insert pack here- beside it, that like can only be found if you have that pack! So if you don't have that pack, don't sweat it!

This is mostly base-game friendly, but if you tweak it a bit to fit some of your favorite mods and packs, feel free to!

And that is it, so let's get on with the challenge!

DEBUT

This sim was born in a small town and knew when they were young they had wanted to pursue a career in the music world! They begin their career in the music industry hoping to find a place in this world.

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Traits: Creative, Cheerful, and Music Lover

Color: Green/Blue(possibly teal as well)

Likes: (Color) Green & Blue, (Music) Blues-base game-and Ranch-Horse Ranch Pack-, Guitar, Writing, Piano-base game- and singing-City Living-

Career: Musician

Rules: Complete the Musical Genius Aspiration, Max Musician Career, Max Guitar skill, Max Piano skill, Max singing skill-City Living-, Have at least one child to become the heir, be 'good friends' with their children.

FEARLESS

Watching their parent(s) treat them with such kindness and love, this sim knew that they wanted to share these feelings with the world. They have much love to give, but their love life has been rocky. This sim is ready to settle down and give their child(or children) the best childhood.

Aspiration: Friend of The World

Traits: Outgoing, Loyal, and Ambitious

Color: Yellow

Likes: (Color) Yellow, (Music) Hip-Hop,(Activities)Writing and Baking.

Career: Chef

Rules: Complete the Friend of the World Aspiration, Max Chef Career, Max Writing skill, Max Baking skill, Have at least 2 relationships before finding the significant other, Have kids while an adult, Have at least one child to become the heir, have next heir have the max motor skill.

SPEAK NOW

This sim's parents loved them a lot, and they knew that. They were raised to believe that they would grow up and get a practical job like a writer or techie, but this sim has always looked to the stars for comfort. They simply were enchanted by the stars, would they be the foolish one to want to be among them? They love their parents, but will they still love this sim if they take on their dreams of reaching the stars?

Aspiration: Serial Romantic

Traits: Goofball, Perfectionist, Good

Color: Purple

Likes: (Color) Purple, (Music) Easy Listening-Get to Work-and Singer-Songwriter-Cats and Dogs Pack-(Activities) Fitness and Rocket Science.

Career: Space Ranger

Rules: Have max motor skill as a child, Complete the Serial Romantic Aspiration, Max Astronaut Career, Max Fitness skill, Max Rocket Science skill, Date at least 8 people before settling down, Have a child to one of your exes, Have the child born to one of their exes become the heir.

RED

Growing up and seeing this sim's mother/father date many people before finally settling down made them realize that maybe they weren't exactly sure if true love was real. The only true loves this sim had? Alcohol and working. They were young, only feeling 22! They knew all too well how much love could hurt, they'd seen one of their parents go through it plenty of times, but when they meet another sim at a bar? Maybe everything has changed for this sim and their views on love.

Aspiration: Master Mixologist

Traits: Gloomy, Self-Assured, Foodie

Color: Red

Likes: (Color) Red, (Music) Pop, (Activities) Mixology and Cooking

Career: Mixologist

Rules: Complete the Master Mixologist Aspiration, Max Mixologist Career, Max Mixology skill, Max Cooking skill, Date no one until meeting significant other, Meet significant other in a bar, Finish work tasks as quickly as possible, Have a child as an adult, Have at least one child to become the heir.

1989

Having parents who didn't have a child until much later in their lives made this sim cherish what little time people actually had in life. They decided that living a boring, unfulfilling life just wasn't their style. When they had turned into a teen, they threw parties with friends every weekend. This sim falls in love with one of their high school friends, but once they grow up they fade apart. Now that they don't talk, this sim is forced to move on, but their heart is stuck on them. They take this chance and fall in love with other sims, but when they meet back up with their high school sweetheart, are they still in love?

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Traits: Jealous, Loyal, Clumsy

Color: Blue and White

Likes: (Color) Blue and White, (Music) Pop and Electronica, (Activities) Gaming and Comedy

Career: Trendsetter

Rules: Throw parties every weekend in high school, Have a high school sweetheart, Break up with high school sweetheart, Date two other people before getting back with high school sweetheart, Get back together with high school sweetheart, Complete the Renaissance Sim Aspiration, Max Trendsetter Career, Max Gaming skill, Max Comedy skill, Have at least two children, Choose whichever child you wish to be the heir.

REPUTATION

This sim knew growing up that no one would love them like everyone seemed to love their mother/father(last generation) When they were a teen, the only person who knew them was their high school boyfriend/girlfriend- someone that their parents didn't like. They could call it what they want, This sim was in love and no one could tell them any different. Their relationship with their parents began to worsen and when they became a young adult they moved into a house far away from their parents with their high school sweetheart. Basically leaving in a getaway car made this sim realize that maybe doing something bad felt so good. Maybe they'd never see their parents again, but they could make a new family...a crime family.

Aspiration: Public Enemy

Traits: Loner, Romantic, and Genius

Color: Black, Gray, and White

Likes: (Color) Black, Gray, and White , (Music) Pop and Alternative, (Activities) Mischief and Fitness

Career: Criminal Boss

Rules: Have a high school sweetheart, Have parents dislike the significant other, Have a bad relationship with parents, Move into a house with significant other immediately after becoming a young adult, Complete the Public Enemy Aspiration, Max Criminal Career, Max Mischief skill, Max Fitness skill, Have at least one child to be the heir.

LOVER

Growing up, this sim was always told about their parents love story. High school sweethearts who ran away with each other? That was the best love story that anyone could ever ask for! This sim grew up without being around their grandparents, they never asked, so they were never told why. Being raised in a chill and laidback family made this sim think that everyone just needs to calm down! As a teen, they dated a few of their friends, trying to find a love like her parents, but ultimately all of those relationships failed. They decided to put aside their lover heart and go onto business in their young adult life, but what happens when they accidentally become woohoo partners with someone they work with?

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Traits: Childish, Art Lover, Family Oriented

Color: Pink, Yellow, and Blue

Likes: (Color) Pink, Yellow, and Blue, (Music) Pop and Romance, (Activities) Writing, Painting, and Guitar

Career: Business (management branch)

Rules: Date at least 2 friends in high school, Breakup with the high school relationships, Don't date anyone until halfway through the sims young adulthood, become woohoo partners with a coworker, Complete the Renaissance Sim Aspiration, Max Business Career, Max Writing skill, Max Painting skill, Max guitar skill, Have at least two children, Have the first child be the heir.

FOLKLORE

Having outgoing parents that seemed to always have something else going on seemed fun...in theory. In reality, however, this sim grew up closed off and playing make believe by themselves. They had read books on the last great American dynasties to distract themselves and found peace in day dreaming and making up stories. When this sim was a teen, they worked hard in school so they could keep their parents eyes off of them and keep the attention on their sibling(s). This sim became a young adult and moved into a small house and began writing the stories they had once dreamt up- mostly romance. They began selling these books and met "the one" at a library/museum, finding the love that they had only written about.

Aspiration: Bestselling Author

Traits: Loner, Bookworm, and Loyal

Color: Gray and White

Likes: (Color) Gray and White, (Music) Blues, (Activities) Writing and Guitar

Career: Author

Rules: Stay to self while a child and teenager, Be an A student in high school, Meet significant other in a library/museum as a young adult, Complete the Bestselling Author Aspiration, Max Author Career, Max Writing skill, Max Guitar skill, Have any amount of children, Choose whichever child you wish to be the heir.

EVERMORE

Growing up in a small, cozy house that was filled with love made this sim enjoy life, but still find the faults within it charming. This sim was born into a house of creativity and enjoyed the nature aspect and loved beautiful scenery. As a child they had a best friend that went into high school with them, but they had gotten into a fight and had become enemies with them. They had a high school relationship that went into young adulthood and was engaged, but the significant other cheated on this sim- ending the relationship. This sim had moved on relatively quick, why tolerate cheating then cry over it? They had spent their nights at clubs and flirted with many people and found one really attractive sim- "that's my man." this sim was dead set on this. They finally found the love they had been searching for. Long story short...they survived.

Aspiration: Painter

Traits: Creative, Perfectionist, and Art Lover

Color: Orange and Brown

Likes: (Color) Orange and Brown, (Music) Alternative and Classical, (Activities) Panting and Piano

Career: Painter

Rules: Throw parties every weekend in high school, Have a high school sweetheart, Break up with high school sweetheart, Date two other people before getting back with high school sweetheart, Get back together with high school sweetheart, Complete the Renaissance Sim Aspiration, Max Trendsetter Career, Max Gaming skill, Max Comedy skill, Have at least two children, Choose whichever child you wish to be the heir.

MIDNIGHTS

This sim's family had many lives lived, they could go back to their great great great great great great great grandma and never truly understand their whole family. That didn't stop this sim from being interested in everything and anything that they could get their hands on. This led them to be kleptomaniac, karma surely wouldn't track them down. When they had been a teen, this sim enjoyed working out as a way to stay active and busy their mind away from the urge to steal. In their eyes, they were an anti-hero who was trying so hard to push back what they hated about themself. This sim became a young adult and still was curious about everything they could know, so they became a secret agent. This sim met their significant other, but they were worried because this sim was good while they were a klepto. Their significant other didn't mind, though, and let this sim be bejewled.

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Traits: Ambitious, Kleptomaniac, and Neat

Color: Blue, White, Navy Blue, Purple

Likes: (Color) Blue, Purple, and White, (Music) World Music, (Activities) Guitar, Piano, and Fitness

Career: Secret Agent

Rules: Begin working out as a teen, Marry a sim that is good, Complete the Renaissance Sim Aspiration, Max Secret Agent Career, Max Guitar skill, Max Piano skill, Max Fitness skill, Have any or none children. thank you for completing the challenge :)

You're on your own kid, you always have been.

[homestuckreplay]

Harlequin Anger vs Jester Ennui - Color as John Egbert’s Emotions

Week 2 Retrospective

John Egbert is the silliest little guy, but we’re starting to see hints of what he’s feeling beneath the surface. Looking at the themes of the comic so far, my current theory is that the colorful elements in the comic are the things that make John feel strong emotions - both good and bad - while the monochrome elements represent what makes John feel bored and frustrated.

Analysis below the cut - about 2,200 words.

‘A familiar note is produced. It's the one Desolation plays to keep its instrument in tune.’ (p.82)

Desolation has two, related meanings - one is loneliness, grief, and lack of companionship, while the other is ruin, emptiness and destruction. The first meaning is John’s current mental state, while the second is the suburb he lives in. The majority of what’s surrounding John is entirely monochrome, and so is John himself. We also learn from the narration on p.82 that ‘something feels missing from [John’s] life’ and that he has a sense ‘not of mirth, but of lack’. I think he spends a lot of time going through the motions - poking at things in his room without settling to anything, wandering up and down the stairs when his dad is occupied - but his life is the same day in and day out, and he struggles to inject any excitement into his life, or even any anger at the situation he’s trapped in. 

I think it’s extremely notable that almost everything relating to John’s family is monochrome. In addition to the house as a whole, the portraits of his dad and nanna are monochrome, as are the gifts and cakes from his dad, the car outside, and most importantly the piano. I don’t think John hates his father, but I think he struggles to connect with him or feel close to him. Ignoring page 72’s peanut ambiguity, the worst we hear about Dad is that he will ‘monopolize hours of [John’s] time’ (p.30) and ‘can be a real cornball’ (p.49), which is a big contrast to him calling Betty Crocker his ‘arch nemesis’ (p.48). 

Therefore, John’s dad is an inconvenience, not a threat. John might know intellectually that his dad loves him - ‘the old man really came through this time’ (p.19), as well as the kind fatherly notes left on John’s birthday presents (p.12, p.55) - but I think he can’t make the leap to actually caring about his dad in return or enjoying his company.

John is a gifted piano player, and gives us a ‘haunting piano refrain’ (p.77). Him being a musician ties back into the act title - ‘the note desolation plays’ uses the language of music, something so often filled with emotion, to describe a lack of it. Given that, of course the piano is monochrome. Perhaps John even sees the piano as the source of his problems, or at least representative of them. 

I noted at the time that it was strange John hadn’t listed piano among his interests when it’s clearly something he’s spent a lot of time on, and now I think it’s something that was taught to him as a kid by either his dad or nanna. He’s good at it, but he’s so disconnected from family life that it no longer brings him any joy, it’s just a hangover from his childhood. ‘Haunting’ makes me think it was his nanna who taught him - now every time John plays, he’s haunted by her memory (or even her literal ghost). Possibly her death is what made John disconnect from the hobby, especially with ‘desolation’ relating to grief.

On page 4, we get our first glimpse of the outside. The blue sky shot through with the brown tree is the largest splash of color in John’s room. The promise of the outside world is extremely colorful, and we know John wants to go there - the window reflected in John’s glasses on page 28 as he grins excitedly is a clear visual indication of that. Yet when we finally see it, the outside isn’t all color - the grass, sky, trees and flowers all are, but the man made aspects such as the driveway, tire swing, and other houses in the neighborhood are gray and dull.

Page 82 gives us the dramatic moment of John removing his clever disguise and gazing up at the sky. It’s the first time we see the sun and the uninterrupted expanse, and it’s framed like it’s significant for John, too. I don’t think it’s literally his first time stepping outside (you can’t tell me his dad didn’t push him on that tire swing as a kid) but I think it’s the moment he realizes that leaving his literal house doesn’t mean he’s not stuck - the neighborhood is just more of the same, and whatever restrictions John’s working within mean he can’t go any further than this. A front yard is legally part of a house, and the reality of the outside doesn’t excite him as much as the idea of it.

And then there’s the clowns. The one aspect of his dad that really gets John going; the harlequin portraits in the hallway and living room that Dad brought back from clown con are bright, obnoxious, and impossible to ignore. Interestingly, the ones in the study are black and white - perhaps John is okay with the clown pictures in the study, because that’s explicitly his dad’s space, but he doesn’t like the ones in the main area, because they make him feel like the house is fully his dad’s, not a shared space they could decorate together. 

This is pure speculation, but I don’t think John has ever moved house. I get the impression that he grew up in this house, which is his dad’s now and was perhaps originally his nanna’s, and has never known a world outside of this specific neighborhood. Because John’s been there since he was born, it’s never crossed his dad’s mind that John might want to, say, put his Little Monsters poster in the living room - hence why that gift was left in John’s bedroom, while the harlequin doll is allowed to be downstairs. 

Speaking of John’s room, it’s definitely not an oasis of color within the house. In our first shot of the room, we see six splashes of color, including the outside and John’s shirt - comparable to the living room (six including John’s shirt and hat) and study (five including the outside and John’s hat). A full three of the colorful elements in John’s room are related to Sburb, which in both the visuals and text is the thing John’s by far the most excited about right now, but I’ll circle back around to this. 

John’s magic chest, magician’s hat, blood capsules, and copies of Colonel Sassacre’s and Wise Guy are all colorful too, but other prank elements - fake arms, beaglepuss, handcuffs, sword, smoke pellets) are all monochrome. This one’s tough, but my best guess is that John feels conflicted about his interest in pranks because it’s so similar to his dad’s interest, and perhaps even that the monochrome items are things John’s dad bought for him for past birthdays and holidays, while the colorful ones are things John got for himself. 

John’s shirt is also worth mentioning here. John’s ambivalence with the house extends to himself, and kids often don’t have a lot of control over their appearance. He probably doesn’t choose his own clothes or glasses or haircut, and he definitely can’t go out and get a tattoo of Slimer or anything like that, so it’s very telling that wearing a shirt with a favorite movie on it is the one way John can actually connect to himself. 

That said, all the movie posters in his room are monochrome, which I’ll again circle back to. One exception is the close up of the Problem Sleuth poster (p.11), which is mostly monochrome, but has four kernels of colorful candy corn. I love this detail so much. It’s a fun reference to Hussie’s previous work and suggests that the candy corn gags in Problem Sleuth are John’s favorite part, which feels right for him. I wonder if John will use candy corn for a prank at some point in reference to this game he likes. I also noticed that the menu bar at the top of the web page also contains four kernels of candy corn - is this just because Problem Sleuth is Hussie’s most notable work, or could it be a clue for Homestuck too?

The most colorful and complex elements of the comic so far are the screens. We see John’s computer, which as a physical object is monochrome but which lights up to a brightly colored world of chums, flashing programs, desktop icons and stunning feats of graphic design, including things John loves (Slimer) and things that make him boil with rage (coding). We also get to see a very green tinted TV commercial in the living room, and a full color clip of Con Air linked from page 20. 

All this makes me wonder if John’s list of interests is chronological. First on his list (p.4) is ‘really terrible movies’, and many of his favorite titles are from the 1980s and 90s, meaning he probably grew up with them. I think he still loves watching and discussing them, but - given that movies are a fairly passive medium - just the reminder of them on his wall isn’t enough to take him out of his own head anymore. He then got into programming, the paranormal, magic, and video games in sequence, meaning that the final two are his most active interests right now, and the ones to which the most time and color are devoted. In this way, the casual end to the list ‘You also like to play GAMES sometimes’ reads like intentionally downplaying something that’s actually really important, the sarcasm of ‘sometimes’ revealed later when we learn that John has ‘put countless manhours into this assortment of quality titles’ (p.31).

Unlike the movie posters, most of the games on John’s CD rack are in color, and unlike movies, games can offer an interactive, immersive experience. Games are enticing to John right now because they’re the best escape from a monotonous, suburban life that John has access to. He’s played his current collection time and time again (to the point that Bard Quest and Problem Sleuth have lost their color), and that’s why he’s so desperate for Sburb to arrive, and why the colorful reminders of Sburb are all over his room.

I think there’s a very real question of whether Sburb will live up to John’s expectations. At only one letter away from Suburb, it’s a clear reminder that video games don’t actually take John away from the life he’s stuck in, they’re a cosmetic alteration at best - and if the themes of the game are too close to John’s real life problems, he won’t find that escapism. So while I’d love to see a version of this comic where John finally starts playing Sburb and the whole screen immediately explodes into color, I’m not sure it’ll be that easy.

Finally, there’s the meta elements of the story. The captchalogue card overlay and strife specibus are pink and green respectively, and other elements that pop up (indication of whether or not we’ve got John’s name right, the cake turning blue when selected, the blinking green telling us we can put the poster on the wall, etc) are colorful too. The hammer that John allocates to his strife specibus is monochrome, however, which fits really well with John allocating it on TG’s instructions and not knowing that the allocation is permanent. If he’d known, he would have chosen something he felt more strongly about.

Interestingly, the narrative text is black. I still don’t think we’re directly getting John’s perspective, I think that’s been filtered through a specific narrator who has a voice very different to John’s (based on John’s Pesterchum messages), but I don’t think John has any awareness of this. In contrast, he’s all too aware of his captchalogue deck and the artificial, needlessly complex limitations it imposes, and he visually reacts to us getting his name right or wrong. 

If John were to somehow become aware of the narrative text, and have strong feelings about the way he’s being portrayed (or the fact that he’s being written about at all), perhaps it would change color? After all, when John talks to his friends, each of them has a defined color, perhaps relating to the different relationships he has with each friend, and different emotions arising from that. John doesn’t seem to always like his friends - he gets frustrated at the notifications, and spends his whole conversation with TT already trying to leave - but he still replies and actively engages with them, a massive contrast to how he is with his dad. 

‘His riddle is Absence itself.’ (p.82)

To conclude, I do find it interesting that the brightest colors in the comic are the things that are most natural (grass, flowers) and the things that are most artificial (screens, the abstract concept of the inventory) while everything in the middle is black and white. This fits with the idea of color being about both extremes at once, and the idea that John wants a chance to explore both the real and virtual worlds. 

The meta function of color is to make certain visual elements stand out to the audience and tell us they’re worth paying attention to. From a purely functional perspective, it makes sense that the things most important to John would also be highlighted to us. But given the theme of lack and emptiness, the absence of color is just as important. And as the comic is already playing so much with the meta, I think that’s the most helpful starting point for analysis. 

[hanaleeappreciationweek]

We have crossed the midway mark for our week! There are only two days left, and we're immensely excited with all the wonderful work our Hana fans have put up so far and can't wait to see what's next!

Day 4 is packed with not one, not two, but three themes!

First up is Competitive Hana! One of the most delightful aspects of her growth is the joy she shows in expressing competitiveness and being a tough player. People both in canon and the fandom may fool themselves into viewing her as passive, but seeing her play or pit herself against an opponent tells us a whole different story altogether!!

We also have Music, a favourite among our community of Hana lovers who fondly remember her passion for music (especially the piano).

There's also Culinary Love! Whether it is her happy dance when she dips fries into milkshake, or how she revels in the symbolism of French pastries, or the way she gleefully shows the MC her favourite hot chocolate recipe, food has always had an important and delightful part of Hana's life. We'd love to see how you explore her relationship with food!!

Any content is welcome!! Fanfic, fanart, edits, moodboards, interactive, media, headcanons, screenshots, playlists, meta...even screenshots of your favourite scenes would be great!! Our only requirement is that the content is centered on Hana, and that the depiction of her is positive. You can also send in WIPs in case you don't complete a work!

You can also send in a work on the days following a particular theme - this is no pressure for it to be put up exactly that day! We will also have an extra week for anyone who still needs time 💕 May 4th will be our final official date for entries (to incorporate into our video!) but HLAW will still be open for entries for the rest of the year until the next event!

You can find all the themes for this year here!

Be sure to do the following when you make your posts:

1. Use the tags #hanaleeappreciationweek and #HLAW in the tags (along with the day you made the post for - #HLAW Day 1, #HLAW Day 2 etc)

2. Tag @hanaleeappreciationweek and hosts @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes in your posts so we don't miss out on your work!

FAN CONTENT BLOGS are instrumental in keeping the fandom alive - with events and fun activities that encourage us all to contribute and create. They have also been amazing in their support towards our character events. Do check them out to see all the new incredible events and prompts coming up!

@choicesficwriterscreations - Primarily fanfic and fanart (no AI allowed). Check out their rules and roster of events!

@choicesmonthlychallenge & @choicesaprilchallenge24 - Any and all content welcome (No AI content)! They have a collection of prompts you can use for the month of April!

@choicespride - Any and all content is welcome, as long as it is centered around queer characters and/or themes.

@choicesflashfics - Primarily fanfic under a 2500 word count. Every week they use new dialogue prompts. The prompts for the coming week will be out soon but the last week's are here.

@choicesholidays - Any and all content welcome, as long as it is centered around one of the holidays listed! Currently, they are hosting Spring Fling!

@choicesprompts - Mostly fanfic preferred! You can check out their current Round Robin event here!

Happy Hana Lee Appreciation Week, everyone!!

[quixoticall]

This Could Get Ugly 2. The Beginning

Summary: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.

pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w., r.b x n.w.

SERIES MASTERLIST🎤

Previous Chapter🎺

WC: 2.4K

Warnings: Sexism, Murray Bauman

***

NANCY: Nancy Wheeler, former keyboardist for The Downsides.

  I had been playing piano since I was eight, it was just one of those things my parents signed me up for to make me more well-rounded for college applications but I ended up loving it more than they had hoped.

I auditioned for the band on a whim, I was going to Indiana State at the time, getting my teaching degree but I loved playing the piano more than I would ever love being a teacher. To be honest, when I auditioned, I didn’t think they were going to take me, not even after I saw they had another girl in the band. Don’t get me wrong, I knew I had the talent for it, I just didn’t necessarily give off Rock and Roll vibes, but they accepted me anyway.

  I had a feeling Steve liked me from the moment we met, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him then. He’s Steve Harrington for God’s sake. Girls had posters of him up on their walls for the better part of the 80s. I just—I didn’t want people to think I got the spot because I was involved with the lead singer. I wanted people to know that I earned my place through talent. Steve was really disappointed when I turned him down, but he was always really respectful about it.

  That didn’t mean he stopped being interested or that I didn’t feel his eyes on me during every rehearsal in the summer of ‘81.  

1981

Of course, you knew that when you had been signed to Starcourt Records it wasn’t completely because of your talent.

You had started to wonder, however, if Starcourt had given you a shot because they didn't want to risk litigation or maybe because those record execs had seen your name floating around in a magazine or, more importantly, your picture.

The more you thought about it, the more insecure about your place you had felt, like an imposter among others who had earned their spots. But, after one week of rubbing shoulders with the musicians over at Starcourt, you realized that to be able to make it, you were going to have to ooze confidence, even if that confidence was fake.

***

NANCY: We started playing gigs together around the Midwest. In the beginning, we mostly played covers but eventually, we started writing our own music. I’m not a great songwriter and, to be frank, neither is Steve, so a lot of the stuff we were coming up with was pretty simple but it worked for us. We went from playing weddings to actually getting gigs that paid money. I mean it was barely enough to cover gas to get there but it was something. I guess, for the sake of transparency, there is one more thing I have to talk about while we’re talking about this time in the band’s life.

Steve and I spent a lot of time writing music together. It was great, being able to get close. I thought we were becoming friends. He was still a bit hung up, though and one night, when we were up late writing at his tiny apartment, he kissed me. And I kissed him back.

The next day, I told him that that couldn’t happen again. I gave him my reasons and he respected that but still, I could tell he was crushed. I think that between the kiss and us having this talk, he had begun to hope that something would happen between us.

I think that’s what made me and Jonathan hurt him so much more. 

1982

You didn’t necessarily like Murray when you first began to work with him but you did trust him. In the professional capacity at least. He never tried anything with you, which you appreciated although that bar was abysmally low.

You hadn’t known what to expect on your first day in the studio but you had a feeling that as far as the music was considered, you were in decent hands.

Boy, were you fucking wrong.

The moment you had stepped into the studio, Murray had handed you a stack of music, all unfamiliar and definitely nothing you had written.

“What’s this?” You had asked, eyes crinkling in confusion.

“A few contenders for an EP. The team over at marketing came up with some branding concepts and this is what we landed on.”

He then pulled out a thick folder overflowing with pictures of what you assumed the studio had wanted to mold you into. It was all bubblegum and teased hair and not at all what you had envisioned.

“Wait, Murray, I don’t understand.  I have a brand, one that I've spent a lot of time curating along. This isn't me and this is definitely not my music.  You said I could sing the music that I’ve written.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Murray hummed, condescendingly, “I never said that.”

“Well, if I can’t sing my music then I just won’t sing at all.” You were the full image of a petulant child, arms crossed and lips dangerously close to a pout.

Murray feigned concern for a moment before hunching down so that he was at eye level with you.

“You signed a contract,” he spoke slowly, “Starcourt owns you, and if you don’t like it, then talk to a judge.”

He turned away from you, leaning against the mixing console. He speaks again after what seems like an eternity.

“Listen, sweetheart, I’m not saying it’s ethical or right, but if you want to make it in music, you got to play the game. You can’t come in here, swinging your metaphorical dick around, calling the shots when you haven’t proven you can rake in the dough.

“Sure, you’ve got talent, but who doesn’t? Right now, there’s a line of girls around the block who can sing and write and are probably better at following directions, waiting to take your spot.

"Plus, I read the songs you sent over, you have some good lines but there's not a single song worth attaching Starcourt's name to. Take this as an opportunity to learn, to be better, to actually work for something for the first time in your life. You have nothing right now, so nothing is below you, not even this pop dribble they're giving you to sing.

"I’m not saying it’s always gonna be this way, but you have to prove to them that you can play before they take you seriously, and then if you got what it takes, you can start writing your own music. Hell, if you make them enough money, they’ll let you play the fucking didgeridoo and go out in a nun’s habit… well, maybe not the habit, but the point stands. So, can we stop acting like the spoiled princess we are for just one afternoon and get to rehearsing?”

You snatched the book of songs from his outstretched hand and with a smile on your face, tore it down the middle before stomping off.

It had taken five days of Murray, along with various other executives at Starcourt, pounding on your door at the Chateau Mormont—the hotel that was your permanent residence since you had turned 18— before you had even considered setting foot in Starcourt again.

All it took was a gift basket full of Champagne and half a dozen threatening letters from their legal team.

***

NANCY: Jonathan came on as our second guitarist. I remember when he came to the audition he was this quiet, super shy kid who barely managed to make eye contact, but once he had a guitar in his hands, he had this way of coming alive. He wasn’t a showman like Steve, but he was electric when he played.

We—I never meant for things to turn out the way they did but with Jonathan, it wasn’t much of a choice. I know this sounds so cliche, but we were drawn to each other. I remember, during rehearsals, even before we really knew each other, he and I would lock eyes from across the room and I would know exactly what he was thinking.

Soon, we were sneaking around together. We were getting more and more serious, it was only a matter of time, honestly, before the others found out. Jonathan wanted to come clean early on, he could tell it was causing me so much stress, but I didn’t want to tell anyone else. Part of it, was Steve, of course, but also, what Jonathan and I had felt precious and personal and ours. I wanted to stay in this bubble we had built for ourselves.

Of course, it was Steve and Robin who eventually caught us, making out in Jonathan’s car after rehearsals one day.

To say that Steve took it hard is probably an understatement. He skipped rehearsal for five straight days and when he showed up he had this new song he had written, this ballad called, “Regret You”.

“If I never had you, then why can’t I forget you / I hate myself because I could never regret you.”

Yeah, that was an awkward one to rehearse but, to his credit, it was a great song. It was the song that got us noticed.

1982

You had spent months recording your first EP, a five-song collection the studio had decided to name “The Setlist”. It was meant to be a play on your groupie status, or at least that’s what some intern over in the marketing department had claimed, a little too proud of himself for your liking.

While you couldn't ignore the sense of accomplishment that bubbled below the surface, you mostly felt empty. 

The whole thing made you think of your father, whom you hadn't spoken to in years but had a very staunch view on artistic integrity. He despised artists who 'carelessly churned out poor imitations of real art for money'.  "To make art is as close as one can get to being god," he had explained to you once, with self-important tears in his eyes, "why would anyone sell that off? Art should mean something to the artist. Otherwise, they are a peddler of fake divinity." 

Your father had never had to worry about money a day in his life. 

That empty feeling was only exacerbated when, the Friday after you had officially finished recording, Murray had invited you to lunch with a particular proposition in mind.

“No, Murray, not gonna happen. Over my dead body and all that,” you spat from across the table.

“Listen, I don’t want to pull the contract card on you, but I will,” he warned with no real heat as he swirled his gin martini in one hand.

“Nice try,” you mirrored his pose, martini and all, “but the contract doesn't cover this, only original work. Not duets. You know that, I know that, so why don’t you try again and give me one good reason why I would even consider a duet with The Letterman’s.”

Murray gave you a look you had come to familiarize yourself with—one that was equal measures of pride and annoyance. It was the look he gave you whenever you bested him.

“How about the fact that they’re one of the hottest acts right now and being on a track with them would guarantee you a spot on the charts which is a great place to be at any point in time, but especially when you’re about to release an EP?”

Your face dropped in the way it only did when you knew Murray was right about something you didn’t want him to be right about. A look he had been starting to familiarize himself with.

"Fine, I’ll do it, but I want to spend as little time as possible with Jason. He’s a pompous ass.” “No disagreements there, sweetheart.”

The day you were scheduled to record with Jason and the rest of his band, he was an hour late. You hadn’t doubted for a moment he had done this on purpose.

When he finally had shown, he pretended not to know you, a game you had quickly caught on to, and made sure to respond with, “It’s so nice to meet you, Jackson” after he made a show of introducing himself to you which made the rest of his band and Murray guffaw.

Jason narrowed his eyes at you, his voice struggling to stay level, and said, “Watch it. We’re the ones doing you a favor here, remember?”

“I did you one first,” you responded, your eyes meeting his gaze, “remember?”

It had taken 20 minutes for his bandmates to calm him down, but eventually, the two of you got into the booth.

Your only priority had been to do your best job in as few takes as possible because you did not know how much longer you could tolerate being in Jason’s presence.

In the end, after a two-hour session, Murray had sent you both home, either happy with the finished product or at his wit’s end with the tension. Either way, three weeks later you had a duet with The Letterman’s called “It Was You” and just as Murray had predicted, it was quick to climb the charts.

You were getting noticed.

***

NANCY: Not long after Steve wrote “Regret You” we got noticed by a scout from Starcourt Records. I think at first we thought it was some sort of scheme, but it was legit. They had us record a few demos and in something like six months, they moved us to a house in Culver City.

The whole thing had felt like some sort of fever dream. I had to quit school and tell my parents. They didn’t even know I was in a band. Or seeing anybody. Needless to say, they didn’t take any of it well. When we got to LA, we did more test recordings and they even had us playing some shows at a few clubs on the strip.

Like I said: total fever dream.

But, when you’re under the thumb of a label like that, there are certain stipulations. One of the first things they told us was that they wanted to make our sound more modern and pop. We kinda

had an alternative, experimental sound back then. They said synth was going to be the new thing so they wanted Robin to learn how to play the synthesizer which meant that on certain songs, Jonathan would have to take over for bass. Also, they wanted Steve to be more of a frontman and less of a guitar player. Steve could always work a crowd, and they wanted to use that, especially with this new sound they had envisioned for us. All of this meant we needed another guitar player and, believe it or not, the label already knew who that was going to be. Eddie Munson.

NEXT CHAPTER 🎸

Taglist: @rexorangecouny

[naomi121406]

🌕 Lunar Melody 🌕

🌕 A pop-culture spell to strengthen your psychic abilities (such as clairaudience, claircognizance, etc), inspired by Fatal Frame IV 🌕

A Lunar Melody is someone's unique tone, tied to their identity and gifts, their very soul. This Lunar Melody can change pitch according to the person's emotional state and general health. We all hear it unconsciously, and not being able to hear your own Lunar Melody (according to the games) can cause a foggy mind, partial or complete memory loss, dizziness, headaches, emotional distress, among other things. It is also said that people with stronger lunar melodies have a stronger connection to the spiritual realms, the Afterlife, and are often mediums. According to lore, Lunar Eclipses are times when the veil between worlds are thinner and in the games, the Lunar Melodies of people are more receptive, for good or for bad, during this time. So let's try to use that in our favor! Doing this following exercise at a time when the veil is thinner will help you identify what gifts you have but maybe didn't know about, and strengthen the psychic abilities that you already know of. Kind of like stretching a muscle that's been atrophied, with the Moon's help.

⚠️ An older version of this spell was posted by me a long time ago and now seems to be lost. I'm posting this new (and somewhat improved) version as someone asked for it, and it may be of use to others aswell.

🌕 You'll need:

A lunar eclipse, ha. If it wasn't obvious by the title and inspiration, you'll be performing this ritual under a lunar eclipse. Partial or total, your choice, but I think it's safer to do it for the first time under a partial eclipse.

A consecrated mask. Preferably of some organic material (thick paper or wood). Paint it entirely with black ink/paint, that has been previously mixed with a drop of your blood. If you don't feel comfortable working with blood, saliva can work as a substitute (as a personal concern of yours, a tie to you) or even better, tears, as they relate to your sight. After you've painted it, let it dry outside under a Full Moon, asking for the Moon's blessing.

Five white candles.

A bowl of water (preferably a dark bowl, or some scrying bowl)

Music player and a song of choice.

A notebook and pen to take notes.

🌕 Steps:

🌕 First you'll have to define your workspace. I recommend that you create a circular sacred space with a radius of at least 60-70 cm around you. You can use a rope to mark the circle or not, that's up to you. Then set up your five candles on this circle, forming a five-pointed star. Open sacred space as you normally would (if you call on the elements, deities, etc, this would be the time to do that)

🌕 Set before you, inside the circle, the scrying bowl. Best if you can see the Moon's reflection on the water (doing this outside is best but not necessary). Call on the Moon God/Goddess of your choice, and ask them to bless the water and guide your sight.

🌕 Using your music player, play the song you've chosen to meditate with. You can use the Moonsong from the games (said to calm people's soul) or some other that resonates with you (see what I did there?). When you do, first say "Spirits of Song, of chimes, drums, flute, piano and string, lend me your guidance tonight".

🌕 Then, the meditation. Or the frenzy. Put on the mask. You can choose to stay still or dance. If you stay seated, gaze into the water, and try to make out shapes, pay attention to any sounds, emotions, smell, word or image that comes to your mind. Write them down when you're done. If you dance, offer your dance to the Moon and let it guide your steps. Placing the bowl on the center of the circle, dance around it and pay attention to the sensations of it, without judgement. What do you see in your mind's eye? pay attention to what you hear, smell, feel. Don't overthink it in the moment, just let it move through you and only care to remember it for later, so you can write it all down, and you can analize it all you want after it's over.

🌕 After you've written down your notes, you can close your sacred space as you normally would, give thanks to the Spirits you've called to aid you, and even leave a small offering out for the Moon afterwards if you wish.

🌕With Love, Nao🌕

[ghanjrho]

Alright, because this wouldn't leave my head here we go:

Young Justice as a band, Core 6 edition.

Red Tornado is their manager, obviously.

Initially, it was a trio act of Kon, Bart, and Tim. This lasted for their debut single Id, Ego, and Superego, as well as the EP Young, Just Us. Greta was a session player who got tapped in to help back a track for the full album, and recommended her previous collaborators Cissie and Cassie to the group. Some internal shakeups followed, but by the release of the full Young, Just Us album the band had settled down.

Kon: Drums, and the occasional backing vocal.

Bart: Man, what doesn't Bart play. He started on keyboard, then promptly went full crazy. In the EP alone, he has listed credits for piccolo, sousaphone, and harpsichord, among others.

Tim: originally lead guitar/vocals, later rhythm guitar and male vocals. Because he cannot be normal, his guitar isn't either. Usually an 8-string, but he he's broken out a Chapman Stick on more than one occasion.

Cassie: Lead guitar and lead female vocals. Also helps with songwriting.

Greta: bass guitar. Likes music, likes playing with friends, jsut as happy to fade into the background.

Cissie: keyboard, backing female vocals. Bonnie wanted her to be a solo artist, but "white girl singing with a piano" isn't exactly an unpopular niche. Bonnie's new long-term plan is for Cissie to be the breakout sensation and leave Young Justice behind. So far, Cissie isn't on board.

Tim and Cassie have a somewhat complex co-front dynamic. Tim is the primary songwriter, is go-to for guitar solos, and is the primary male vocalist. Cassie plays lead guitar and sings lead on most songs. Cissie has a song or two on each album that she takes the lead for, and that's all she really wants right now.

[astrialuvs]

"Harmonious Encounter"

➻ SYNOPSIS : You and Semi discovered the unexpected harmony that could be created when two different worlds intersected in that quiet moment, amidst the lingering echoes of the guitar's newfound tune.

➻ PAIRING : semi eita x musician!reader

➻ GENRE : highschool setting, can be seen as platonic or mutual pining relationship

➻ CONTENT WARNING : female implied reader, possible grammatical errors ahead

➻ WORD COUNT : 591 words

a/n: eyyyo!~

On a warm morning, the sunlight filters through the curtains into the classroom as the president distributes the notebooks back into their respective owners. Among the exchanges of notebook, your notebook and Semi's notebook were accidentally swapped. The notes of an academic subject now rested in the hands of a musician, and a musician's world found its way into the possession of a volleyball player.

Semi was the first to notice the mismatched notebooks. Rather than waiting until the end of the day, he decided to use their volleyball break to return the notebook to you. He excused himself from the court and made his way to the music clubroom, nodding to his teammates.

As he walked in, he noticed you sitting on a stool, cradling a guitar in your lap. A dissonance of out-a-tune sounds emitted from the strings, indicating that your a beginner, and attempts to master the instrument. Your fingers fumbled over the frets, leaving smears of red where the strings had bitten into your skin.

Semi announced his presence by gently knocking on the doorframe. You abruptly jumping into your seat, with ears flushed with surprise and embarrassment at being caught in such a vulnerable position.

"Um, hi," you stammered, hastily setting the guitar aside and wiping your fingers onto your skirt.

Semi gave you a reassuring smile as he reached out the notebook. "I think our notebooks got swapped during class."

Your eyes peered down on the object in front of you, your eyes widening in realization. You accepted your notebook with a grateful smile, your fingers brushing against his in the exchange.

"Thank you so much," you said softly as you went to your bag to give his notebook back.

Semi's gaze wandered to the guitar lying on the guitar stand. "Do you play?" 

You peered over your shoulder at the question, your expression shifted from gratitude to a sheepish admission. "Well, I'm trying to learn. But I'm not very good at it yet."

Semi picked up the guitar, his fingers deftly tuning the strings. "Mind if I give you a few tips?"

You blinked in surprise. "You know how to play the guitar?"

He chuckled. "A bit. My sister taught me."

Semi sat down on one of the available seats beside yours and helped you position your fingers on the frets correctly. He showed how to pluck the strings, his fingers moving with grace and fluidity. You looked at his hands with a mixture of fascination and embarrassment, your fingers attempting to mimic the movements.

The notes from the guitar transformed from a discordant jumble to a tentative melody under his direction. Your fingers grew more secure, and the strings no longer left marks on your fingertips. Your fingers felt at ease than before and grew comfortable on the instrument.

"You're a natural at this," Semi remarked with a smile.

Your ears flushed with a mix of pleasure and surprise. "Thanks to your help."

An unspoken connection formed between the two of you as your fingers brushed against each other while adjusting the strings. Their brief meeting turned into an unexpected bond, fostered by your mutual love of music.

You admitted before Semi leaves, "I actually play the piano."

Semi smiled. "Maybe one day, we can jam together. Guitar and piano."

The thought made your heart skip a beat. "I'd like that."

A smile crept onto your lips as memories of melodies enveloped you, weaving their emotive melody through the fabric of your soul, accompanied by a comforting twinge of feeling in your stomach.

[jamesjbkim]

While it's difficult to definitively state which piece Mozart liked most among his own works, as he didn't explicitly declare a favorite, some insights can be gleaned from historical accounts and musical analysis:

1. The **Requiem** is often considered one of Mozart's most cherished compositions. Despite being unfinished at the time of his death, it showcases his emotional intensity and musical genius, even amid personal turmoil[1].

2. The **Piano Fantasy in C minor** is noted for its dramatic depth, particularly in its use of minor keys. Mozart's works in minor keys are often seen as his most philosophical and emotionally profound compositions[1].

3. The **Piano Concerto No. 24 in C minor, K491** is highlighted for its dark grandeur and clever use of wind instruments, demonstrating Mozart's mastery of orchestration[1].

4. Mozart's **String Quintets** were also highly regarded, with some musicians describing them as a perfect blend of humanity and divinity in music[1].

While these pieces are often cited as among Mozart's finest works, it's important to note that his preferences may have varied throughout his life. Mozart's genius is evident across his vast repertoire, making it challenging to pinpoint a single "favorite" piece.

Sources

[1] Favourite Mozart piece? Ten top performers choose | Classical Music https://www.classical-music.com/features/works/favourite-mozart-piece

[2] Mozart's Eight Happiest Pieces of Music - Interlude.hk https://interlude.hk/mozarts-eight-happiest-pieces-of-music/

[3] The 9 Mozart Pieces Every Piano Player Needs to Know - Flowkey https://www.flowkey.com/en/mozart-piano-pieces

[4] What (in your opinion) is Mozart's absolute best piece in terms of him being a composing genius? https://www.reddit.com/r/musictheory/comments/1aj1uck/what_in_your_opinion_is_mozarts_absolute_best/

[5] What do you think is the greatest ever piece by Mozart? - Reddit https://www.reddit.com/r/classicalmusic/comments/11zui25/what_do_you_think_is_the_greatest_ever_piece_by/

[6] The 15 greatest pieces of classical music by Mozart https://www.classicfm.com/composers/mozart/best-pieces-classical-music/

[7] Metronaut | 10 of Mozart’s Essential Pieces (part 1) https://metronautapp.com/metronaut-blog/10/mozart-essential-pieces

[8] The 10 most life-changing pieces of music by Mozart https://www.classicfm.com/composers/mozart/most-life-changing-pieces-music/

[lollipencil]

Still Changes

Originally, this was going to be derived from Prompt #5. But then I read @jokingmaiden's post about Dr Harrow as a factive, and my mind added him to the whole scenario. And from there, the story mixed with the help of some of Rebecca Sugar's music, and evolved into something sweeter, I think.

Enjoy and be gentle ---

Dr Harrow sat with his back to the door and thought.

"I do not understand," he said aloud, "so much really. There is a world outside of this one. I've never seen it, but I know it. And in this world, is another. With my face and voice, and part of my name. I did not exist before him. Not until he-" A shaking breath briefly detrailed his monologue: "I have a duty of care, to Marc, to Steven, and to Jake. I know that they don't see what I do as caring. I-I made some missteps during our initial sessions, and..."

He sighed. "I bare the face of their killer, of the only person who tormented them as much as She did." Reaching down from where he sat on his desk, Dr Harrow removed one of his shoes. "The man knew he had grievous sins, knew enough to try to punish himself for them," he noted, staring into the pool of blood and glass, "And yet, he never gave a name to them. Never thought of why the sins were there in the first place."

"But now I have to wonder," he set the bloody shoe on the deck, "What's the difference between me and him?" A mirror sat in a drawer and was removed: "I can't be him, as I live in here, and for a moment we lived at the same time. But we both could see the problems, couldn't we? The unspoken, throbbing pain that breathes and bleeds in the same action. They all hate to think about it, and we both force them to. I am not him, but what right do I have to call myself different?"

And, in that moment, Dr Harrow felt tired. He felt every inch the age his form reflected. The sound of shuffling reached him, but he had no desire to do a session. He closed his eyes. Until his other shoe was removed. "I think you have every right," Marc said firmly, eyes on Dr Harrow's feet as he opened a first aid box, "I won't deny the...similarities, but he only claimed to want to help. To want something good for everyone else."

Marc's hand gripped Dr Harrow's ankle. It felt like a restraint, strapped in to avoid drifting away to somehwere unknown. "But you," he continued, "You've been actually trying to help us." Each word sounded astonished, said inbetween shards of glass being freed from Dr Harrow's flesh: "Because, to you, we can get better. And you believe that we should."

Silence filled the room once his feet were clean of glass and blood. Bandages slowly wrapped around his feet with caring hands. "So, Doc, can I help you for once?" he looked up. "There is something," Dr Harrow stated after a moment, "It's been bothering me since I arrived. I've not been able to do anything about it, but maybe you can."

Marc followed his gaze to a record player sitting on a table on the back wall. It definetly was not there before. A record sat ready to play. When the needle was set, a soft yet unfamilar piano came through and a door appeared right next to it. Marc stepped through right as the lyrics kicked in.

"Let's go in the garden, you'll find something waiting. Right there where you left it, lying upside down."

A garden was on the otherside. Thin white trunked trees stretched as far as he could see. Orange leaves blanketed the floor and acted as the sky. Marc walked forward.

"When you finally find it, you'll see how it's faded. The underside is lighter when you turn it around."

A clearing suddenly appeared. One tree had a thicker trunk than the others, and among the strong lower branches, was a treehouse.

"Everything stays, right where you left it. Everything stays, but it still changes. Ever so slightly, daily and nightly. In little ways, when everything stays."

The action of climbing that rope ladder felt so familar to Marc, yet he could not place it. Even more familar was the inside. A simple box, but coated in memories. Walls covered in children's drawings, the only thing other then the occupied sleeping bag in the treehouse. Jake stirred and blinked at him. "Hah. Didn't think I'd see you here again." "Again?"

Jake sighed wearily, but sat up as Marc pulled himself inside. "When the body was younger, I found you and Steven. Quite easily in fact," Jake laughed with no joy, "But, no matter the hints I gave, you both never found me. So, one day, I took the initiative. "The body was close to sleep, and I managed to get you both here. And introduced myself. We came up here and spent the night together, drawing and hanging out. I'd never been so happy."

"When I next woke up, it was like it never happened," Jake's eyes glistened with tears, "I made a replica of one of my drawings, one you saw me make. You just turned it over and ignored it. And I knew, that you weren't suppose to know me. No one was."

Jake lost his fight with his tears. And Marc's heart bled.

He crawled inside, right up to Jake's shaking frame, and tucked him into a encompassing hug. Marc's collar was almost immediately wet, but he didn't care one bit. Just held him tight.

When Jake's sobs slowed into shuddering breaths, Marc slowly guided them down to the floor. "Why don't you get some sleep?" Marc rubbed the back of Jake's head. "No," Jake shook his head, even as it was still buried in Marc's neck, "You'll forget me again." "No I won't," Marc placed a kiss on Jake's temple, "If Steven can now know about me and everything else, then I can remember you."

As Jake's breathing evened, music faintly could be heard. No lyrics could be heard, not until the end: " Today, right here, right now, I already feel found..."

[justforbooks]

The dapper and sagacious Ahmad Jamal may have looked more like a UN delegate than a jazz musician, but he was recognised as a truly great jazz artist by some of the music’s most notable pioneers. Jamal, who has died aged 92, was hailed in the 1940s and 50s by Art Tatum and Miles Davis, and more recently by McCoy Tyner and Keith Jarrett. In the 90s, when a jazz piano-trio renaissance was being led by gifted newcomers such as Brad Mehldau, Jason Moran, Geri Allen and Esbjörn Svensson, Jamal did not retire to the sidelines but played better than ever. The former Wynton Marsalis pianist and composer Eric Reed has said that Jamal is to the piano trio “what Thomas Edison was to electricity”.

He was a fascinating philosopher of contemporary music and a lifelong critic of the entertainment business, which he accused of fleecing African-American artists. Although he recognised the structural and technical distinctions of jazz and European classical music, he was adamant that there was no superiority of one over the other in what he called “the emotional dimensions”. “You have to know what the hell you’re doing,” he told me in 1996, “whether you’re playing the body of work from Europe or the body of work from Louis Armstrong.”

Jamal was born Frederick Jones in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and regarded the eclectic musical culture of his birthplace as crucial to his development. His father was an open-hearth worker in the steel mills, but his uncle Lawrence played the piano and at only three years old Jamal was copying his playing by ear. He took lessons from seven, and would recall “studying Mozart along with Art Tatum”, unaware of white society’s widespread prejudice that European music was supposed to be superior to that of African-Americans. Significant influences in his early years were the music teacher Mary Cardwell Dawson (founder of the National Negro Opera Company), and his aunt Louise, who showered him with sheet music for the popular songs of the day. Pianists Tatum, Nat King Cole and Erroll Garner were among the young “Fritz” Jones’s principal jazz influences, and he also studied piano with James Miller at Westinghouse high school.

At 17 he toured with the former Westinghouse student George Hudson’s Count Basie-influenced orchestra, worked in a song-and-dance team, and wrote one of his most enduring themes, Ahmad’s Blues, at 18. Two years later he adopted Islam, and the name Ahmad Jamal. He also joined a group called the Four Strings, which became the Three Strings with the departure of its violinist, and caught the ear of the talent-spotting producer John Hammond, who signed the trio to Columbia’s Okeh label.

The public liked Jamal’s distinctive treatments of popular songs, and so did Davis. Developing his new quintet in 1955, Davis sent his rhythm section to study Jamal’s then drummer-less group. Davis liked Jamal’s pacing and use of space (the prevailing bebop jazz style was usually hyperactive), and he noticed that Jamal’s guitarist, Ray Crawford, often tapped the body of his instrument on the fourth beat. Davis told his drummer, Philly Joe Jones, to copy the effect with a fourth-beat rimshot, which became a characteristic sound of that ultra-hip Davis ensemble. Davis began to feature Jamal’s originals and arrangements in his own output, including New Rhumba (on his 1957 Miles Ahead collaboration with Gil Evans), and Billy Boy (on 1958’s classic Milestones session).

The gifted young Chicago bassist Israel Crosby joined the trio in 1955, and the following year the percussionist Vernel Fournier – who fulfilled Jamal’s requirements for a subtle hand-drummer as well as orthodox sticks-player – replaced Crawford. The group became the house band at the Pershing Hotel in Chicago, and one night in January 1958 they recorded more than 40 tracks there. One was Poinciana, which had been a hit tune from the 1952 movie Dreamboat. Jamal modernised its Latin groove, maintained a catchy hook throughout the improvisation, and found himself with a pop hit that stayed in the charts for two years.

Eight songs from that night, including Poinciana, made up the million-selling album At the Pershing: But Not for Me. Jamal’s newfound wealth led him to branch out into club ownership by opening the Alhambra in Chicago, though the venture barely lasted a year. Crosby and Fournier left for the pianist George Shearing’s group in 1962, and Jamal recorded the Latin-influenced Macanudo album the next year, with a new trio and a full orchestra. He also explored his cultural and ancestral roots in Africa, then recorded Heat Wave in 1966 – with a new group (Jamil Nasser on bass and Frank Gant on drums) and a more contemporary feel, reflected in the funkier approach to his old piano hero Garner’s Misty.

Jamal’s knack of keeping audiences mesmerised with unexpected modulations, time changes and catchy riffs, while never losing the undercurrent of the tune, was still unmistakably intact. His trademark device of insinuating a song – through toying with its bassline or its characteristic groove, but endlessly delaying the appearance of the tune – was adopted by many later jazz pianists, including such contemporary masters as Mehldau.

In 1970 Jamal recorded Johnny Mandel’s M*A*S*H theme for the movie’s soundtrack, and with the albums Jamaica (in 1974, which included Marvin Gaye’s Trouble Man as well as M*A*S*H) and Intervals (1979, which included a Steely Dan cover), showed he was not averse to toying with pop forms and even electric pianos. But he soon returned to the jazz of his roots. In 1982 he made the live album American Classical Music (it was the term he always preferred to the word “jazz”), sustained a steady output through the decade, and with Chicago Revisited (1992) sounded as assured and inventive as ever.

Now in his 60s, Jamal began to develop a higher profile in Europe. Sessions for the Dreyfus label in France led to The Essence (issued in three parts in the 90s), and found him in full flight with the saxophonists George Coleman and Stanley Turrentine and the trumpeter Donald Byrd. In 1995 his version of Music, Music, Music and the original take of Poinciana were featured in the Clint Eastwood film The Bridges of Madison County. He made what he regarded as one of his best recordings with Live in Paris 1996 (featuring Coleman again), and returned to the city to celebrate his 70th birthday in 2000 with Coleman; he was in inspired form on what would be released as the album A l’Olympia (2001).

With the exciting James Cammack on bass and Idris Muhammad on drums, Jamal’s composing blossomed. Striking originals dominated his 2003 album In Search of Momentum, and he even made a faintly stagey but soulful foray into singing, amid a raft of virtuoso keyboard displays, on After Fajr (2005).

Jamal’s alertness to an irresistible riff, like his keyboard contemporary Herbie Hancock’s, made him a favourite with hip-hop artists, and De La Soul’s Stakes Is High and Nas’s The World Is Yours were among many unmistakable testaments to that. Mosaic Records’ nine-CD set of his game-changing work in the late 1950s and early 60s was released in 2011, his group made a spectacular live appearance in London in 2014, and his last album releases came in 2022 with Emerald City Nights: Live at the Penthouse, parts one and two, featuring live recordings made in Seattle during the 60s. A third in the series is due for release this year.

Jamal was married and divorced three times – to Virginia Wilkins, Sharifah Frazier and Laura Hess-Hay. He is survived by a daughter, Sumayah, from his second marriage, and two grandchildren.

🔔 Ahmad Jamal (Frederick Russell Jones), musician, born 2 July 1930; died 16 April 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[missionimpossibleburger]

When Art Becomes Industry - The Menu Review

For my elementary school yearbook, I was given a slip of paper that had me answer the following prompt: "What do you think you'll be when you grow up?" These would later be printed just below my name and portrait that would proudly beam on the glossy pages of the 5th grade section of the yearbook, among the other classmates off to do wonderful and ambitious things as preteens in middle school. In short, this was like a high school yearbook quote, but a little more hopeful and earnest.

I answered Probably a comic book writer or a piano player. While the use of "Probably" helped me ease into the idea of letting go of my short-lived comic book writing ambitions, it still amazes me today that, at 10 years old, I knew in my heart that the piano would be a part of my life.

My earliest memories come from the time when I was a toddler who could barely walk, stumbling down the soft carpeted hallway of my childhood home in South San Francisco as I approached the mysterious and booming mid-range tones from the piano in the living room. I'd see my dad's legs, rhythmically pressing on the ornate pedals with the balls of his feet at irregular intervals, like he was operating a weave as he conjured up a net of harmonies beneath his palms. While I might not have fully comprehended it at the time, there was a understanding in our family that the piano is a gene in our household, and I inherited it from my dad, whether I liked it or not.

Fortunately, I did like it. My dad took me to my first piano lesson when I was five years old, in the back of a Chinese-owned musical instrument shop on Clement Street. I never saw that teacher again (maybe the first lesson was complimentary, and my dad just didn't like her enough), but I got to keep the book. At home, with the help of 12 colorful cartoon characters printed in my book, I taught myself all 12 notes in the scale (more if you want to count the treble and bass clefs), simply because I was hungry to learn more notes and more songs. I took great pride when my dad clapped for me finishing Mary Had A Little Lamb, and shame when he reprimanded me for improvising wrong notes. I loved learning new songs, and held myself over with nursery rhymes and folk songs until it was time to take formal classical lessons from a teacher who met my dad's approval. At nine years old, I finally was reaching the next step.

My piano teacher introduced me to the world of music education and the rigors of music training. She was compassionate and warm, but demanded dedication. Through her, I internalized the technicalities of finger placements, metronome speeds, hand compartmentalization. I expanded my repertoire to included Russian contemporary composers whose surnames sounded like Harry Potter spells, but whom sometimes wrote the easiest pieces for my nimble fingers. I reckoned with the performance anxiety that dreaded my psyche before every monthly recital, which eventually bled over to my Certificate of Merit performance auditions. While I changed schools and subjects during the day, music became the constant test that loomed over me.

By the time I became an adolescent, I had nothing to show for it. In high school, it dawned on me that, not only was the piano barely used in any high school ensemble, but everyone knew how to play it better than I did. Everyone knew an ensemble-friendly instrument, whether it was a string instrument for the orchestra, a woodwind for the symphonic band, or a brass for both. All I had was piano, an instrument that's barely heard unless there's a solo, a concerto, or a jazz rhythm section involved. If I wanted to be heard, I had to be perfect. All 4 years of high school, I didn't pass a single audition for piano - not for the school jazz ensemble, not for any of the school musical pit orchestras. I dreaded each audition anyway, and probably flubbed them out of nervousness. I only got into orchestra after I begged the music director and offered to be a TA and a percussionist for the orchestra class, and the one time I did play in the musical pit orchestra was for percussion.

The stress and pressure I felt in the rigors of the music world left me jaded; they were a sobering reminder that I would never be cut for a career in music, or at least as a piano player, as my 10-year-old self prophetically proclaimed. My worth was at the whim of directors listening for every perfect note. The world was telling me that I wasted my time with the piano, a constant reminder of my own inadequacy. I became angry. I lost sight of why I was even spending time and money on these piano lessons, when I had schoolwork and college applications to worry about.

It's this jaded feeling that I think The Menu fully understands. Ralph Fiennes' Julian Slowik is a world-renowned chef who uses his reputation and art to seek retribution for the ills of the arts-turned-service industries. His dishes are the visceral expressions of his stoic hatred and rage for the pretentious, capitalist, and opportunistic subculture that has plagued his beloved art. Having been deeply engrossed in the higher world of fine dining, he manipulates and upends the culture to his own vengeful benefit, usurping expectation and surprising his guests (and by extension, us) by forcing them to confront their dismissive participation and moral crimes against art and humanity. In public reference does he create his own personal chaos, a heaven out of a living hell for those he finds undeserving.

There's a point in the film in which we see Slowik's origins. In one photo shown, he's younger, relaxed, and smiling, holding up a greasy burger patty on a flat and wide spatula, like the kind you'd see in cartoons. It's in stark contrast to the Slowik we got used to seeing, a stoic and terse statue of a man with thunderous claps and a commanding presence, arms crossed. And it's this point in the film where we see it's emotional core, an outlet for our own passionate angst and frustrations. We see a man who was once happy, doing what he loved, now grown into a bitter, spiteful shell.

With nothing else to audition for (save for the slightly less rigorous annual piano tests I habitually studied and trained for), my time with the piano became much for personal. Around my early adolescence, my love and ear for music bloomed with The Beatles, and the piano became the perfect outlet for that rediscovered joy and love of music. Like how I was when I was five, I began dedicating myself to learning more and more songs I loved, Beatles and beyond. I sought new territory and creativity in jazz piano and improvisation, a new language that was previously shunned from me.

When I see Ralph Fienne's Slowik as he is, I am reminded of all of those failed auditions, those nights slumped on the piano bench, those feelings of worthlessness, and if I sat through more of those and eventually found the success I was looking for, I'd come out a shell like him. But, when I see Slowik cooking a burger, I am thrust with nostalgia for the days when I learned Beatles songs on the piano, noodled jazz piano solos over wavy chords, and weaving harmonies out of thin air.

So yeah, I got pretty emotional watching this.

[dustedmagazine]

Horacio Fumero — Solo Bass Songs (Underpool)

Horacio Fumero was born and began his studies in music in Argentina and has been a fixture on the Spanish music scene for decades, having come to Europe with Gato Barbieri in the mid-1970s and achieved recognition in particular as a member of Tete Montoliu’s trio. Solo Bass Songs seems to be his first recording as a leader and soloist. The material consists largely or entirely of traditional and popular Argentine songs.

Fumero’s playing is wonderfully warm and full and, on this recording, entirely pizzicato. Some of the tunes, such as the opener “Golondrinas,” move along at a brisk clip while others, such as “Seu Lorenço No Vinho,” are more contemplative, but all of the tracks display inventiveness and flawless technique, developing the fairly straightforward melodies into thrilling excursions up and down the fingerboard. The source material remains evident in these interpretations, providing the basis for variation and improvisation.

The first solo upright bass album seems to have been Barre Phillips’s Journal Violone, released in 1968. Conceptually, such recordings are inherently challenging as what is usually considered a rhythm instrument, with the lowest range among commonly played stringed instruments, takes center stage. Phillips made use of effects such as tapping and arco playing to expand the sound of his pioneering recording, and other solo bass recordings often follow suit. Fumero adds variety to this recording through the judicious choice of material and by including two duets, “Tordo” with Rita Payés on trombone and “Chajá” with his daughter Luciá Fumero (with whom he has recorded as The Fumeros) on piano, as well as some inspired tapping on “Chacarera” and recitation of the lyrics on Atahualpa Yupanqui’s “Los Ejes De Mi Carreta.”

Solo Bass Songs is a delight from beginning to end, and not just for bass players. The listening experience benefits from the high quality of the recording, which captures the richness of the low end, the buzz of the thick strings, and the interplay with the accompanists on the tracks where they appear. Once more, the Underpool label has documented the dynamism of the jazz and experimental music scene in and around Barcelona.

Jim Marks

[lifeofkaze]

A Search for Balance

CHAPTER 28: THE VERNAL BALL

Find the masterlist with all chapters of this story here, the previous chapter here, and the next one here.

Tagging: @flareshogwarts

A/N: David Willows (in mention) belongs to @that-scouse-wizard

Hosting the Vernal Ball was the prerogative of the Quidditch League's reigning champion, so for the fifth time in a row, players and other important members of the business had found their way to Montrose.

As she walked up the driveway to the estate where the ball was being held, Lizzie took in her surroundings with wonder. The Magpies had outdone themselves this year; the path was flanked by blooming cherry trees, magical lights twinkling from between their branches, and the scent of lilac carried on the breeze coming from the nearby sea.

Dipping her head into her neck, Lizzie marvelled at the delicate beauty of the pink petals above her until a quiet scoff from Matthew made her smile disappear.

"Had you kept your dress, you could have fit right among them."

Lizzie waited until the couple overtaking them was out of earshot before she answered, "Too bad that I prefer the cherries."

Matthew glanced at her red dress, standing out from the soft pastel shades of the other guests. "Your taste has been somewhat questionable lately."

"Funny, I'm inclined to agree."

They completed the rest of their way in silence. Some journalists had gathered on the stairs leading up to the main entrance, but Lizzie paid them no mind and kept on walking. Having no choice but to follow her, Matthew flashed the cameras a smile, and stepped behind Lizzie into the bustling entry hall of the manor.

"Have you lost your mind?" he hissed as soon as they were inside. "You can't just ignore them like that."

"Looks like I can."

"Whatever has gotten into you today?"

"Some sense, methinks," Lizzie replied, waving at David Willows as he walked past with his fiancée. "These vultures don't deserve another second of my attention after everything they wrote. Now, how about you go and get us some champagne?"

The grim satisfaction Lizzie had felt after the little show she had put on for Matthew began to wane as the evening drew on. She knew most of the guests at least by sight, but despite all the familiar faces, Lizzie soon realised that she had no one to actually talk to. As she scanned the crowd for any sign of her teammates, she found herself looking in vain for one face, in particular; when it dawned on her that Orion might have chosen to stay away, a strange mix of disappointment and relief befell her.

Close by the open bar, Lizzie had seen her friend Andre Ewgu talking to a young wizard with a muscular frame and dark hair, but they were too enthralled in their conversation for her to go and join them. She briefly considered finding David Willows for a chat, but on second thought, introducing Matthew to her old friend wasn’t something Lizzie was actually too keen on.

Despite her act of defiance from earlier, Matthew had put on his best public face. He was all charms and smiles, chatting with the men and complimenting the women on their dresses. All the while, his hand kept pressing into the small of Lizzie's back, a constant reminder that he was always by her side. Eventually, her salvation came in the form of Erika Rath, who stood close to the grand piano with a group of people Lizzie didn't recognise.

"Jameson!" Erika called over the music, beckoning Lizzie over with a nod of her head. Once she and Matthew had made their way over, she gave Lizzie's dress a look. "Missed the dress code?"

"There was a last minute incident with her original dress," Matthew began, but Lizzie cut him off with a shrug.

"Thought it doesn't hurt to stand out every once in a while."

Erika, dressed in a pale blue jumpsuit and heels that made her stand taller than most men in the room, raised her eyebrows, but Lizzie thought that the corners of her mouth were twitching.

"True, seeing how your Wanderers have been doing lately."

Lizzie sighed deeply. "Whom are you telling?"

"She's right," said a big man with dark skin and a deep, rumbling voice. He must have noticed Lizzie's quizzical look because he extended one of his massive hands to her. "Gideon Gibson. I'm a scout for Puddlemere."

"Nice to meet you, Mr Gibson. I heard you made some good catches lately?"

Gibson smiled widely, presenting two rows of pearly white teeth. "Call me Gideon, please. And we have, you'll see for yourself soon enough. If your performance keeps on dropping like it has, we’ll have a shot at overtaking you."

Lizzie laughed along with him but didn't actually think it that funny. "We'll see about that, Gideon."

"I suspect we will. There's a lot to see in the future, actually. Your contract, for example. Word on the stands has been you're hard to get, but that you're still not signed by anyone? Surprising, really."

Lizzie frowned at his words, but before she could ask what he meant, Matthew said, "This is neither the time nor place to talk about contracts, especially not with the likes of you."

Gideon's and several other pairs of eyebrows shot up. "The likes of us?"

"Matthew…" Lizzie begged him, but he continued as if she hadn't spoken at all.

"People who have no say in the business. Should a club be interested in offering Lizzie a contract, we will talk to the executives and nobody else."

"Matthew, please."

"Is that so, McRae?" Erika said coolly. "Being the top-notch agent you are, you should know a scout's opinion holds its weight."

Matthew's look was icy. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job."

"Apparently you do, or Jameson would long have a new offer on the table."

"Matthew, please don't," Lizzie said imploringly as Matthew's eyes narrowed, but instead of directing his anger at Erika, he suddenly turned on her.

"You stay out of this," he snapped at Lizzie. "You don't even know what we're talking about."

"If the players talk, the agents shut up," Erika interrupted him curtly. "Old Quidditch rule. Not that I'd expect you to know. You're not one of us, after all."

Lizzie held her breath, her eyes flicking between Matthew's badly subdued rage and Erika's stoic calm.

"I don't have to listen to this," Matthew said brusquely. "Come on, Lizzie. We're leaving."

Lizzie automatically turned to do as she was told, but then she paused. Sensing her hesitation, Matthew put his hand between Lizzie's shoulder blades and pushed her along, but Erika called them back. Her voice was still calm, but now laced with an icy anger.

"If Jameson doesn't want to leave, she’s going to stay."

Feeling Erika's presence in her back, Lizzie held Matthew's infuriated gaze until he turned away with a derisive huff.

"Fine. Finish up your business and be quick about it. I expect you to come home right after."

"It might take a while."

Matthew bent towards her and lowered his voice to almost a growl. "Don't push me, Lizzie."

"Do you need me to show you the door?" Erika wanted to know.

With a last cold look at Lizzie, Erika and the rest of them, Matthew stood up straight, turned and pushed through the crowd towards the Apparition spots. When he was out of sight, Lizzie exhaled slowly. She turned to Erika with a grateful, if somewhat bashful, smile.

"Thank you, and sorry for Matthew. He's had a rough week. He's normally not like this."

"You don't need to make excuses for him. Everyone knows he's a pompous idiot."

The words in his defence were already on the tip of her tongue, but Lizzie swallowed them. Instead, she helped herself to another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. As their conversation resumed, the other scouts broke away one after the other, until eventually, Erika and Lizzie were the only ones left.

"It's been a while since we talked one-on-one," Erika noted.

"It's been a strange few weeks," Lizzie sighed, feeling the truth of her words to her core. "I don't know where my head is, with the team and the contract and all."

"And the wedding."

Lizzie felt a plummeting sensation in her stomach. "Of course."

They didn't speak as Erika looked around the room.

"How is she doing?" she suddenly asked, more quietly than before. Lizzie didn't need to be a Seer to know whom she was talking about. She shook her head.

"I don't know. Skye and I haven't spoken since I moved out."

"You did?"

"Yes, after the fight we had in Wimbourne. I suppose you know about that."

Erika raised her eyebrows. "Everybody knows."

"I wish it hadn't gone that way," Lizzie said sadly. "We both said some pretty nasty things."

"That's what she does, though. Dealing insults like Bludgers when she doesn't get her way. It's always been like that."

Humming in agreement, Lizzie looked to where Skye stood with her older brothers. She wore a sharply tailored suit over what looked like not much else, her dark hair with the blue ends twisted into a messy knot low in her neck. Ethan Parkin was nowhere to be seen, and it was almost shocking how relaxed all three of the Parkin children seemed.

"It's not good, your fight with her affecting your game so much," said Erika, who had followed Lizzie's gaze. Lizzie was surprised at the notion.

"It doesn't."

"Doesn't it?" Erika snorted. "I've known you for some years now, Jameson. You always let your emotions rule your performance, for better or for worse. You’re better than this."

"Why are you telling me this? You're working for the Magpies, I play for Wigtown. I'm competition."

"First and foremost, you're a good player. We used to be in different houses but trained together, anyway. I hate to see a talent like yours wasted."

Lizzie frowned. "Are we still talking about my performance?"

"Maybe." Erika fixed her with a serious look. "Have you never considered transferring?"

"Not in the past, no."

"And now?"  

"I'm tired of all the fighting," Lizzie admitted tentatively. "It's exhausting and distracting, and no matter what we do, when it counts, we always fail." She shrugged helplessly. "Sometimes I wonder if Wigtown is still the right place for me."

"Good players stick with the fold. Great ones seize their chance when they see it. You have what it takes to be great, but if you stay on the safe side in Wigtown, your chance will pass you by."

It took Lizzie a moment to come up with a reply, but before she could, Erika tensed, emptied her champagne and braced her shoulders.

"Nice chat, Jameson. Think about what I said. Now excuse me, there's someone else I need to have a word with."

And with that, she was gone, pushing through the crowd toward where Gwenog Jones - captain of the Holyhead Harpies - had taken the place by Skye's side. Suddenly alone, Lizzie was unsure of what to do with herself. Her head was spinning with Erika's words, and she felt the strong urge to find someone who didn't want to talk about Quidditch.

Her eyes fell on Andre, who now stood alone and with an empty glass in hand. Taking two fresh drinks from a tray being offered to her, Lizzie made her way over to him. When Andre saw her, his face lit up, and he greeted her with a kiss on both cheeks.

"Would you look at this beauty? What a showstopper, if I may say so. Oh, and you're kind of pretty, too, Lizzie," he said, holding Lizzie at arm's length. He made a circle with his index finger, on which a big ring was glittering. "Come on, don't be shy."

Smiling to herself, Lizzie spun around herself, giving him a proper look at his creation. She had to take care not to stumble as she came to a halt; the champagne was stronger than she had thought. Lizzie giggled; it was a light and giggly sound, one she hadn't made in a while.

"Thank you so much for this gorgeous dress. I'm sorry I let it sit in my wardrobe for so long."

"A veritable crime," Andre tutted, his eyes scanning the crowd. "You know what else is a crime? How long my date is taking with the drinks."

"That's why I brought these."

"You're an angel," Andre sighed as Lizzie handed him one of the champagne flutes. "An impeccably dressed angel."

"You're the first to say anything along those lines tonight."

"Oh?" Andre wiggled his eyebrows as he drank. "I sense drama. Give it to me."

"Not tonight," Lizzie shook her head. "I just want to enjoy myself for a change. Looks like you are, anyway. You and the Puddlemere Keeper? How can your Pride heart take this?"

"Camp Pride until my dying day," Andre said, putting a hand over his heart. "But in this case, Portree might need to look the other way. I mean, have you seen his cheekbones? His eyes?"

"I'm usually too busy trying to get past his defence."

Andre flashed her a mischievous smile. "So am I."

When she spotted Andre's date making his way back towards them, Lizzie turned to go.

"Good luck with scoring, then. Let me know how it went."

"Oh, don't worry. I will," Andre laughed as he closed his arms around Lizzie. "It's been nice seeing my creation out and about instead of rotting among distasteful Quidditch shirts. Talking of which," he added more quietly, "I think there's someone else who might like to see it."

He discreetly nodded at the tall glass doors leading from the ballroom into the garden. Lizzie followed his eyes, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Orion's familiar figure breaking from the crowd and vanishing outside. She turned back to Andre with a doubtful look.

"I don't know about this, Andre."

"But I do. Just look at yourself, honey. I promise, if you're going to waste this dress, I'll be very cross with you."

With a grateful but somewhat shaky smile, Lizzie went with the nudge Andre gave her and slowly made her way towards where Orion had left the ball. When she reached the terrace doors, she hesitated, the tingling in her stomach so strong she had to press her hand against it. She stood there for another moment, the heat of the room in her back and the cool evening air on her face. 

Then she shook her head, pulled herself together, and stepped out into the night.

[natromanxoff]

(x)

JOHN DEACON of Queen, and musician/engineer Henry Crallan are partners in a new recording studio venture — Milo Music, a 24-track recording facility in North London, which is part of a complex that also houses video and design studios plus other related businesses.

Here, Deacon and Crallan, a former keyboards player with the Kevin Ayres band, talk about the project which is now up and running and open for business.

MW: Is this your first venture into the commercial studio world?

JD: Yes, for me it is. As a group we've been involved with Mountain Studios in Switzerland for quite a few years now, but unlike a lot of bigger UK bands where the individual members have their own studios at home and that sort of thing, none of us has ever really got into that before, got involved with a 24-track professional studio, though I used to have a 16-track at home. Henry and I first discussed this project about two years ago.

How did the partnership come about?

HC: We've known each other for about eight years. I used to work with Edwin Shirley, the trucking company, and worked on a number of Queen tours which used to have a reputation among all the crews as being a bit special, which, retrospectively, I think they were. For three years I managed the staging department at Edwin Shirley and did further Queen tours including Mexico and South America. To build a studio was an age-old dream that I had. I think I first discussed it with John on a flight to Japan, and it's grown from there.

How does Mountain Studios fit into the scheme of things?

JD: Montreux is something we got involved with some years ago, at a time when UK taxes were quite crippling. It was a group investment we made. Jim Beach (Queen's management) basically runs that studio, and the four of us don't really have a lot to do with it, though we have recorded there, and Roger did a lot of his solo projects there.

In a way, we began to find it was becoming very difficult to do group investments — all four of us have got such different ideas about what we want to do. We've really started venturing out, doing more things individually, whereas in the old days we all used to work solidly on Queen 52 weeks a year. We have actually slowed down the work rate now so it gives us all time to work on other projects.

I have always enjoyed studios and that side of the business - I did electronics at college and have always wanted to learn. That's why I got a 16-track at home — but it was only a back-bedroom sort of affair. It was a development from this that Henry and I started this project really. Henry had said he wanted to build a studio, and I said I had the equipment which would be better suited to a proper studio than to a bedroom...

[Photo caption: JOHN DEACON and Henry Crallan take stock of the newly-completed studio area at Milo. The studio measures 24’ x 14’ and is fully isolated with hard and dead ends. There is also a 7’ x 7’ isolation booth. The resident piano is a Steck Baby Grand. A number of instruments are available for hire at discount subject to availability, including Linn Drum, Fender Rhodes, Wurlitzer, Korg CX-3. Yamaha DX-7 keyboards, Fender and Gibson guitars.]

[Photo caption: FEATURES OF Milo's control room (14’ x 15’) include 24-track Studer A80 Mk IV. Studer 810 1/4" and Sony F1 digital, an Amek Angela 28:24 console in-line with extended patch-bay. Monitoring is Sean Davies 3-way LS 841, power amplifiers by BGW, Turner and Quad. Mini monitors are Auratones and Visonik Davids. There is the usual range of microphones, compressors and limiters, reverberation & delay effects and processors.]

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Larry Desgaines sat on a piece of cardboard atop a damp rock near the mouth of a large sewer drain in Queens on a recent Friday evening. “It’s a privilege to be here,” he said, without irony.

It was just before sunset, and he was among a concert audience of about 50 people who were also perched on rocks, facing the waters of New York City Combined Sewer Outfall #BB 029, where the buried Sunswick Creek flows into the East River.

In the water, which, improbably, did not stink of sewage, two men in a canoe sat very still. The boat’s bow pointed toward land. As the sun dipped behind Roosevelt Island, another man sitting by the entrance of the tunnel banged on a metal pipe with a stick. The resulting sound was that of a ringing bell.

The canoe’s frontman, wearing a Tyrolean hat, yodeled: “Willkommen!” He drew out the final syllable, and his voice amplified and echoed in the tunnel. As the song ended, the canoe disappeared into the sewer, leaving only echoes behind.

This was the final evening of Drain Bramage, an unlikely concert organized by the musician and composer Stefan Zeniuk, along with experience designers N.D. Austin and Danielle Isadora Butler.

Mr. Austin and Ms. Butler are co-founders of the Tideland Institute, which encourages New Yorkers to treat their home as a maritime city, reimagining how various waterways might be used.

“The water in New York has just kind of become a backdrop to the city,” Ms. Butler said. “When actually, it is the why, and the how, of how the city was made — and how the city still functions.”

Mr. Austin has been involved in various watery, ephemeral experiences around the city over the years: a speakeasy in a shipping container, an extremely socially distanced desk floating on a raft in the East River, a bar inside a water tower.

Like his previous events, the sewer concert had a secretive, treasure-hunt aspect to it.

At 7:30 p.m., attendees gathered at the far end of a big box store, by a sign that read “Attention Shoppers.”

Instructions arrived via text message:

Follow the fenceline along the water. The sidewalk turns away from the river when it reaches a thick row of shrubbery hedge trees at the far end of the parking lot. Discreetly keep following the fence, *behind* the trees. There’s a small hole thru the fence. Be respectful of the fishermen.

One by one, people trickled down to the rocky shores of the East River and the banks of the underground creek turned sewer overflow. The concert was timed to correspond with low tide, allowing for watercraft to float into and out of the tunnel.

After the yodel echoes faded, there was a pause. Then came the silvery sound of a trumpet and the low moan of a tuba. Slowly, a wide barge emerged from the sewer, holding four horn players — Mr. Zeniuk was on saxophone — who performed as Mr. Austin and an associate kept the boat steady.

The horn piece, titled “Low Tide,” was composed especially for the night by Mr. Zeniuk. Foghorn-esque notes swirled and reverberated wildly, drowning out the noise from the adjacent parking lot.

For the musicians, much of the event’s allure was in the incredible, immersive, ricocheting acoustics produced by the sewer tunnel.

“It’s nature and magic, it’s chemistry,” said instrumentalist and singer Yuli Be’eri. “It’s alchemy. It’s all of it combined together.”

Ms. Be’eri followed the horn piece by emerging from the drain on a barge, playing a piano (from which the legs had been removed) while singing a song that was “partly made up, partly Hebrew poetry, partly random sounds.”

That evening, the skies were clear, but the concert was performed for four nights — including one during which New York City was in the grips of wildfire smoke drifting down from Canada.

“Wednesday, we weren’t even really sure if we were going to have a show, because that was the day that the entire sky was blood red,” Mr. Zeniuk said. Battling elements in order to sit next to a sewer made for a “communal sort of sort of situation,” he said. “It was really beautiful.”

The little cove by the water was quite peaceful. Birds tittered. Passing ferries created occasional waves, gently crashing against the rocks. Trees rustled in the breeze, and when people walked, there was the warm sound of dry leaves crunching and tiny twigs snapping.

Twilight set in, the dark crept around, and the show ended with another yodel. “Auf Wiedersehen,” sang the Tyrolean hatted man, Sylvester Schneider, from his perch in the canoe.

Ms. Butler thanked everyone for supporting New York’s “alternative underground culture.”

“It’s still alive!” she said.

As if on cue, a couple of bats, squealing and flapping, appeared near the drain opening and flew into the sky.

“Nowadays with social media, everything looks cooler than it is,” Ms. Be’eri said afterward. “Here, it was the opposite.”

She added: “Doing that was cooler than any picture of it you can ever see.”