#and several times he called for applause for specific band members when they did a lot for a song

[moon-kn1ght]

toes in the water

pairing: frankie morales x reader

word count: 2k 

warnings: kindergarten should def be a warning, maybe also incredibly unvaried sentence structure? rated E for everyone :)

a/n: this is going to be a small series surrounding a single father frankie morales and reader who is a kindergarten teacher. semi-slow burning, super cute and will def have storage closet / after-hours classroom sex at some point. thank you @wyn-dixie for the beta and for quelling my anxieties about literally everything. 

masterlist || tag form

Were you supposed to be using the kindergarten enrollment forms to sus out potential cute, single parents? No, definitely not. 

But the process of going through the individual forms and comparing them to the database for possible clerical errors was tedious at best, and grueling at its worst. Sitting on those tiny kindergarten chairs, you and the other four members of your team of teachers had already rehashed all of the gossip from the summer, including how Jessica the first year teacher from the 3rd grade cohort had hooked up with that sleazy geometry teacher from the high school at the end of the year district-wide social last May. 

“God, I remember when he was student teaching at the middle school,” Dora, your most senior coworker who had ‘been around the block a few times’ and also held onto every piece of gossip that circulated in your district for the last 17 years, drawled, “He had the grossest little rat mustache, you could hardly tell him apart from the 8th graders!” 

The group laughs in response to that joke, always ready to make of the holier-than-thou high school teachers. “You know what?” Dora adds, “You’d think after so many years, I’d be used to these tiny fucking chairs, but I am not. I need a walk and a Diet Coke.” 

“I’ll join you!” chimed Joanne, the second-oldest teacher in your cohort. The two leaders of your team left the room, leaving you, Claudia, and Andrés, the youngest teachers in the kindergarten cohort. Andrés and you had gone through your credential program together and had known each other for upwards of five years now as best friends. When the two of you arrived at Franklin Elementary, fresh out of school, Claudia had just completed her first year so she welcomed more young teachers with open arms. The three of you have been inseparable for the past several years now. 

“Okay, pull out your stacks!” Andrés orders, citing your group’s earlier plan to use this menial labor to check for potential single parents. You were just looking on the forms to see who did not have both parents listed. It wasn’t a perfect system. And yeah, it was probably inappropriate but y’all were just messing around and killing time on this sweltering August day. 

“I have one in my class!” you offer. “Student: Grace Miller. Parent: Susan Miller. Occupation: Landscape architect.” 

“Oooo, intriguing. Love someone who works with their hands,” Claudia remarks in a silly, sultry voice. “I have one, the student is named Peter, mom is Karen. She’s an accountant.” 

“I don’t like the sound of that. Karen? Yeah no thank you. Glad she’s in your class, not mine.” Andrés laughs and you join him. Kindergarten was just as much of a transition for students as it was for parents, and sometimes they took it harder than the kids. “Here’s to hoping she doesn’t live up to her name...” he continues, “Ooh, I have one! He's single dad--” 

Oooh, you and Claudia purr.

“Rosalia Morales is the daughter of single dad Francisco; form says he's a small business owner,” Andrés presents this crown jewel piece of information to a round of applause from you and Claudia. 

“Ugh, let’s hope he’s cute!” Claudia adds and the three of you dissolve into giggles as the older women  return from their Diet Coke run. 

—X—

Rosalia Morales was ready for kindergarten. Frankie Morales, on the other hand, was not. 

The younger Morales had spent the first weeks of August carefully preparing for this new (and very important) chapter in her life. She carefully deliberated over decisions like what backpack and lunchbox to get from Target (she chose a matching Sofia the First set, so that it could be a topic of conversation for her and her potential new friends at school) to what she was instructing her father to pack in her lunchbox (no PB&J’s in case her new friends were allergic, she wanted to be able to sit at the same lunch table with them and not have these seminal weeks defined by the separation of Peanut vs Peanut free lunches). Rosalia was very meticulous, and she always had been. She was well-prepared to face all the challenges kindergarten wanted to throw at her. 

While Rosalia had spent weeks preparing, Frankie had spent weeks dreading the imminent separation from his favorite person in the universe. Yes, he had sent Rosalia to preschool and pre-K but those had all been half-day programs. He would drop her off on his way to work and then pick her up at lunchtime. That only meant four hours apart but full-day Kindergarten was drop-off at 7:45am and pick up at 3:30pm. Seven and a half hours. How am I going to do it? he thought to himself. 

—X—

At Franklin, they implemented a very specific first day schedule. Parents walked their kids to their classrooms to hang up their bags, then the students got to go play on the playground while the parents left. The older teachers designed this system to reinforce to the students that school = fun. Yes, of course there were always students who had a rougher first day, but it usually took a couple of hours for the fatigue to set in before the students realized how long the day (and year was going to be). 

This system most importantly allowed for a clean break with the parents, a solid ‘goodbye!’ point that the teachers could enforce. But, always, there were some straggler parents (either loitering inside, near the front door or in their cars in the parking lot). The administrative team would let the indoor stragglers know that it was time to leave, but they would have two of the teachers go into the parking lot to make sure all the parents had cleared out. 

This year, you and Claudia had pulled those short straws, so while the rest of your team monitored the early recess, you two roamed the parking lot with reassuring waves and “I’m sorry, it’s district policy, you have to leave the parking lot after drop off.” Everyone usually took it graciously—it’s like ripping off a band-aid, it’s better to just get it done. 

You had almost cleared the lot of loitering vehicles when you came upon an older, red truck with a man inside it. His window was down so you began to speak to him a little before he noticed you, causing him to jump. 

“Hi, I'm one of the teachers in the Kindergarten cohort," you say as you run your bare left hand through your hair. “Are you a parent?” 

As he turns to look at you, you can notice that even with his cap pulled low, he has definitely been crying a little. “Hey, yes sorry. I’m Frankie Morales, Rosalia’s dad,” the man stammers, “I’m sorry, I know the policy, I think I’m just having a little bit of separation anxiety.” HIs brown eyes look a little bloodshot as he gives you a half-hearted smile. 

You search his face and see no traces of dishonesty, this is just a man very nervous to be sending his kid to school. And a cute one at that too. Claudia called it, you think. 

Before you can let your mind wander too far about this stranger, you have to say something. “Mr. Morales...” you start. 

“Please call me Frankie. Mr. Morales is my dad,” he interjects nervously.         

“Okay, Frankie,” you say. “I understand how nerve-wracking sending your kid to school can be. I may not be a parent myself, but I can empathize. But I can also offer to you that in my years in kindergarten, I’ve never seen a student not adjust to the classroom,” you offer. 

“But I also understand that our anxieties can be irrational and don’t like when presented with things that might undermine them. So it’s okay to still be nervous or anxious right now,” you add. “Do you think there’s something that I could do to help you feel better about leaving school property in the next ten minutes or so?” you smile a little to help this last bit come off as nice as possible. 

“I…” he mumbles, “I… I’m not sure, my parental intuition is telling me that something will happen in the middle of the day and it’ll take me too long to get here, which I know isn’t going to happen but… I’m worried that I won’t be able to be enough for her”  

“You worry because you care, and I can already tell that you care about her a lot. Hey, like I said, our worries don’t have to be rational to get at us.”

“She’s just all I have, she’s the center of my universe,” he adds. With this, you can see the shift in his eyes, from worry to love. You can tell that he loves his daughter with his whole heart. 

“Rosalia is in Andrés', I mean, Mr. Gonzales’s class, right?” 

“Yeah, she is.” 

“I think I might have a solution, a little band-aid just for today,” you bid and Frankie looks hopeful. “This is very much against district policy so you have to promise not to tell on me.”  

He laughs with this, and promises not to tell. “How about I give you my phone number, and any time that your fatherly intuition is telling you that something bad is going to happen, you can text me and then I’ll peek across the hall to Rosalia’s classroom, and I can factually assure you that nothing bad is happening?” 

Frankie actually smiles, for the first time in this whole conversation, “That would be great,” he says.

—X—

As you knew would happen, the day passed without incident. Frankie didn’t even text you, which you felt good about. But also a little sad because you wanted to start a little texting thing with this single dad. But you knew it would be a little inappropriate, in your heart of hearts. 

After all the students get picked up, Claudia and Andrés migrate into your classroom. 

“Don’t you think the first day of school calls for a celebratory drink out this afternoon?” Andrés probes. He always was down for happy hour (and to be truthful, you were too). “We should go to the brewery down the road, they have some nice outdoor seating.” 

“I’m in,” you state, “And I may or may not have some other good news..” you tease. 

“What? What good news could have happened in a room full of 6 year-olds?” Claudia jokes. 

“Y’all can’t tell anyone but I got the phone number of that single dad from Andrés’s class,” you say as quickly as you can. 

Claudia and Andrés both break into shrieks with this news. 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe our prowling on the enrollment forms WORKED!!” Andrés exclaims. 

“He was nervous at drop off so I gave him my number but he didn’t end up texting me, so nothing will probably ever come of it. But still, small win in my book.” 

Claudia throws her head back, “You deserve all the wins you get, whatever happens, we’re psyched for you.” 

Later, during happy hour you check your phone and notice a new text from an unsaved number. 

Hey, thanks for your help this morning, having this line of communication made me feel a lot better. Rosalia had a great day today. -Frankie 

You try to keep your facial expressions minimal as you read the message. They don’t need to know about this, you think to yourself before shooting back a quick message. 

That makes me so happy Frankie. Feel free to reach out whenever you need! About whatever :) 

You add that last line hastily and hit send. I can thank this liquid courage for that, you think as you down the rest of your pint. 

TAG LIST: @wyn-dixie | @empress-palpat1ne | @marvelousmermaid | @knivesareout | @sleep-tight1 | @justanotherblonde23​ | 

#frankie morales x reader #frankie 'catfish' morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #triple frontier fic #slow burn incoming baby #my writing #di writes #oH MY finally something i'm actually writing instead of just talking about writing

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels- Of Humans and Demons

It had been quite a while since I’ve came out with a story.  In this, we have the explanation of what is happening in two of the galaxies concerning the shenanigans bringing them all together, as well as the more supernatural side of all of them.  As usual, I do not own anything except Thomas Drake and his universe.  Enjoy the story.   

“Speak softly and carry a big stick.”  -Theodore Roosevelt

Empyrean Iris Galaxy

Rundi Homeworld, Seat of the Galactic Assembly

“Nervous?” 

“Actually, no.  Not really.”

“Figures.  First human to make contact with extraterrestrial life, now the first person to meet the newcomers from these new galaxies.  Nothing fazes you,”  Admiral Kelly sighed.  Admiral Vir, dressed in an immaculately pressed grey uniform, grinned.  

“They said space was the final frontier.  As it turns out, we’ve got eight new galaxies out there.  Life just got a lot more complicated.  But, honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.  More fun!  More exploring!” said Vir.

“It takes all kinds, I suppose.  But you have to deal with briefing the Assembly,” replied Kelly.  “And deal with their possible reactions to the fact that they might not be the top dogs anymore,” she added as an afterthought.

“True,” sighed Vir.  “The worst part of the job, by far.”  A younger human officer stepped into the small, well lit room outside the main council chambers and turned to the Admirals.

“Admiral Vir, sir.  The Assembly is ready.”  He clutched his hands together, nervous to be in the presence of a living legend.  

“Thank you,” replied Vir politely.  He strode forward, only to pause briefly and look back at Kelly with a grin.  “Oh, by the way, Star Wars is real.”

“Wait...what?”  

He walked into the council chambers, radiating an aura of careful calmness.  He looked to the seats where the various delegates from all the different species in the galaxy sat, looking slightly wistfully at the human section, wishing he could be there instead of standing alone at the head of the council.  But, like he had said earlier, it went with the job, and he was the only person to make contact with the denizens of the other galaxies.  He reached the speaker’s podium, and, after the usual useless bureaucratic formalities were made, began.  

“Esteemed members of the Galactic Assembly, I am sure you have noticed that we are no longer the only populated galaxy within this universe.  Approximately a month ago, an extreme anomaly caused nine different galaxies, including our own, from nine separate universes to co-exist in one singular universe.  I come before you today, having met with people from each of the galaxies to brief you on the various governments from these other galaxies, what they are like, and what you should expect.”  He paused for a moment.  Perhaps he had used the word ‘galaxy’ too much in that speech?  No.  He had to be extremely specific, even at the risk of sounding redundant.  “It should be noted that, interestingly enough, humans exist in all of these realities.”  That drew a round of nervous murmerings.  Humans were one of the newest additions to the Assembly, and were by far one of the more powerful and dangerous member races.  Come to think of it, I might be lucky if they don’t start a riot over this, he mused.

“It should also be noted that, coincidentally, several of these new realities share similarities with old human stories.  Should you wish to know more, the appropriate media has been forwarded to you.”

“Now, on to the main briefing.”  Several delegates leaned forward in their seats expectantly.  Notepads, recording devices, or computers were taken from their holding places.  Adam cleared his throat.  “This is what we have deemed Galaxy One…”

And so the briefing went on.  He told them of the people he’d met, gave them the anatomical reports on new species of aliens.  And, most importantly, he told them of their counterparts.  Told them of both the good and the worrying.  

The Galactic Empire: a fracturing, militaristic pro-human superpower that used to rule Galaxy 1.

The New Republic: a pro-democratic group that opposed and overthrew the Empire from Galaxy 1.

The United Federation of Planets: a peaceful yet technologically powerful group where all species were equal in Galaxy 3.  

The Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation: a massive, privately funded mega-corporation that effectively ruled Earth and humanity in Galaxy 7.

The Covenant: a theocratic coalition of aliens dedicated to activating a series of devastating WMD’s in the belief that it would cause their ascension in Galaxy 4.

The Imperium of Man: a theocratic, xenophobic, militaristic pro-human superpower fighting an endless war against all comers in Galaxy 6.  

The list went on, and on, and on.  As each different government was mentioned, a map of their territories, capabilities, species, and symbol flashed on a centrally located holographic projector.  

“Now, the next part is this.  We have received word from the Citadel Council, the reigning government in what we have dubbed Galaxy 5, asking us to come to their capital for peaceful negotiations.  They seem to be extremely similar to our own government, in the sense that they are a galaxy-spanning federation including multiple species.  While I am no diplomat; that would be your area of expertise, the information we have gathered has led us to believe that this government in particular, and two others are the most similar to us and would be the best to ally with.”  The room filled with hushed murmurings.  The Drev delegate spoke up.

“And what is to stop all you humans from ending up like this?  Or this?”  He tapped a button, and the six-spoked circle of the Galactic Empire and the double-headed golden eagle of the Imperium of Man flashed to life on the console.  “As there are humans in all of these galaxies, you could band together and wipe the rest of us out.  What’s to stop you?”  Vir paused for a moment.  

“Because, being human is all about individuality.  We have no collective.  Our societies change all the time throughout history.  It is often not a story of unity.  In the end, a human is whatever it wants to be.  The humans of this new reality are probably just as different to each other as all the other species are.  And, because we are an individualistic species, the chances of us uniting under one banner to conquer not only one but nine different galaxies is not going to happen.”  He looked out at all the different delegates, all the different aliens he had come to appreciate over so long.  “One other thing.  Most humans have a great sense of right and wrong.  Something that many of you have come to appreciate over the time we’ve been in the Assembly, I’m sure.  We know that to take your land, to kill your people, is wrong.  And, as I said before, humans are different.  There are evil and bad humans in this reality; there always have been good ones as well.  The same still applies.  While some of these humans will want to take from you everything, humans like me will always be there to fight by your side against tyranny.”  The room broke into applause.  Sometimes good speeches weren't about grandiose words.  Sometimes they were simply there to get a point across.  And Admiral Adam Vir was a master at that type of speaking.  

He sighed to himself.  No bad.  There wouldn’t be any riots.  Probably.  Hopefully.  He went on with his briefing, pausing slightly to wonder if similar things were happening in the other galaxies...

“I want one simple thing: money.  I will tell you what I want; everyone knows what I want.  But the people you call saviors, the ones who you think will deliver you and raise you up, they want something else.  They want complete and utter control over every aspect of your life.  And when you naive fools put them into power, in a short time you will miss my kind.  But I will be dead, and you will be damned, because you never thought through the consequences of your actions.”  -Martin Crossgrow

Aboard the Apocalypse 

Thomas Drake sat in his quarters.  The room was an odd combination of styles, with austere and sleek metal plating contrasting with the rustic stonework of a large electric fireplace and the handsome woodwork of the furniture.  He sat before a large video screen, barely the width of a piece of paper.  His black hair was immaculate, as always, and his deep blue eyes stared from underneath a brow furrowed with concentration.  His fingers flew across a holographic keyboard, inputting the correct security procedures.  A mesh of invisible, interlocking and ever-changing computer algorithms flashed across the screen.  Good.  Even if someone were to try and break into his ship’s computers, they would not find records of what he was doing.  They could not.  He pressed a few more keys, then waited.  

Waited for one person.  His...sponsor.  For lack of a better word.  The head of the most powerful corporation in his galaxy.  The head of the Guild of Merchants, the corporate oligarchy that ruled the space in between the Galactic Federation and the Empire of Prosium.  Ultra-capitalists to a somewhat disturbing extent, it was they who controlled most of the galaxy’s comperce, built most of the products, and of course, paid the most.  

A series of chimes, repeating the same notes, sounded.  They sounded faster, quicker, humming together, until one long, high, note sang out.  The computer screen flashed from black with lines of green coding to reveal a face.  

It was that of a man, skin pale from never seeing the warm kiss of a sun, pale from never leaving building complexes.  It was old, with receding white hair and skin starting to sag, but the face and the eyes did not betray this age.  They burned with energy, arrogance and contempt.  Not the misplaced arrogance and perceived invincibility of youth, or the kind energy of an honest worker.  No.  These eyes shone with an arrogance of age and assurity, the arrogance of a man who knew with absolute certainty he was better and more powerful than anyone else.  These eyes now turned to Thomas Drake, and took on a new expression.  That of a superior looking on at a trusted subordinate.  

“Captain Drake.  How are you?” spoke the calm voice of Martin Crossgrow.  

“I’m doing well, Mr. Crossgrow,” replied Drake.  

“Wonderful.  Now, what do you have for me?”  

“Information.  As per usual.  Stocks, governments, companies...entities.  In some cases.”  Crossgrow gave an appreciative nod.  

“Excellent.  Your usual fee will be transferred to your account when the information reaches me.”

“Good.  I wanted to warn you, though.  In some of these new realities, there are...things. Things of...supernatural power.  I’m getting you as much information as I can on them, so as to be better prepared if and when confronted.”  At this, Crossgrow laughed, a low, dry, chuckle.  

“I’m not afraid of the supernatural.  If it does exist in these new galaxies, then there are people who will know how to fight it in those galaxies.  And every man has a price.  So if the time comes, I merely must pay that price.  It’s simple.”  Drake said nothing.  He knew it wouldn’t be quite that simple.  But he also knew that disagreeing with the head of the most powerful corporation in the galaxy, and his highest paying employer, was not a wise decision.  

“If that’s how you play it, then that’s how you play it.  But I think I need more information.  Places, organizations with knowledge, information.  That’s what I must find.”  Crossgrow made a harrumph noise in his throat.  

“Well, in the meantime, tell me about the financial side to these new places.”

“Of course.  The biggest threat to the Guild is probably the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation.  Monopoly.  Rules humanity in one of these other galaxies.  Produces quite powerful and interesting war machines.  I’ve got the schematics for one type.”  This elicited a laugh.

“I’m reasonably sure that you stole that from one of your...what do you call them…” he paused for a moment, then snapped his fingers in realization.  “Ah, Scoundrels!  Didn’t you?”  Drake shrugged.

“Of course.  It’s being sent to you as we speak.  I’ve also got…” he trailed off as he tapped several buttons on his wrist computer.  “Schematics for…” He looked up and grinned.  “Chainsaw swords, plasma swords, rechargeable laser weaponry, jetpack boots, laser weapons that run off of explosive gasses, contractible body armor, high-quality medical gel that heals wounds almost instantly, cybernetic super-soldier armor, three types of personal shields, teleporters, omnitools, so-called ‘phaser weaponry’, two types of power armor, and the blood readouts from biotics, pariahs, and SPARTANs.”  He held up a hand to forestall Crossgrow’s confused look at the last three items on the list.  “It’s all described in the report.”  

“Ah, very good.  Very good, indeed, Captain Drake.”  A slightly amused look crossed Crossgrow’s face.  “Although, won’t your compatriots be upset if they knew you were selling their secrets?”  Drake smiled in response.  

“If they ever found out.”  HIs smile grew wider, and both he and Crossgrow repeated the mantra in perfect synchronization.  “Besides, that’s just.  Good.  Business.”  

“Forget everything you think you know.” -Karl Mordo, upon Dr. Strange’s arrival in Kamar-Taj

Marvel Galaxy

Earth

The New York Sanctum

Doctor Steven Strange was a wizard.  Not “wizard” in the sense that he was extremely good at something, like “technological wizard” or “engineering wizard”, but a literal magic wizard.  Once upon a time, he had been a prestigious surgeon, but that had all ended in the fires of a car crash.  He had traveled the world, trying to heal his broken body, and stumbled on a place that taught actual, real, magic.  

Through a strange series of events, he had mastered these “mystical arts” and become the head of Earth’s sorcerers.  It was his job to defend the planet and all its inhabitants from any and all magic or extra-dimensional threats.  This, of course, was now a particular problem, seeing as eight different realities from different dimensions now existed in the same material universe as his reality did. Now he had eight new galaxies to take care of, and possible threats from all of them to fight.

Wonderful.

He sighed to himself.  Might as well get started.  Get it done with.  Hopefully he didn’t get eaten.  He breathed in, breathed out, his mind calm, tranquil.  His heavy red cloak billowed around him, lifting him in the air as he took a cross-legged position.  One more deep breath.  He drew upon his power, and allowed his mind to roam.  Not freely, of course.  Silently.  His metal defenses were high.  No entities, no beings, could tune onto the small signature he emitted.  It took practice, hours upon hours of it, combined with an innate talent to disguise one’s mental signature so.  

He floated, his mind calm.  Thoughts, emotions, feelings…   Interesting.  They all flitted through his brain, caressing the edges of his mind.  Nothing for now.  He roamed higher.  Opened his mind to beyond his Earth, beyond his reality...and was immediately assaulted, battered, his mind tossed around like a cork upon an ocean.  Travesty, glory, tragedy, celebration, hatred, hope, love, rage…  He wanted to scream.  He did not.  He merely steeled his mental defenses, clamping down on the sanity of his own brain.

He saw...darkness crashing against light.  An eternal battle, observed by one.  Something larger at play.  Something he did not, could not comprehend.  Time began, the beginning played out, a universe expanded.  Light.  Beginning.  Emotion.  Differences.  It reminded him of the principle of yin-yang, but on a much larger scale.  Strange watched the universe, as millions of stars were born and died.  The light encompassed everything.  Shadows, tendrils of darkness, battled it, fought it, sometimes snuffed it out.  The light won when it came forward, burning away the darkness, but if the light failed, gave up, the darkness crept forward to take its place.  The light was passive, in a way, upholding the rules with a code of honor.  The dark was not.  It surged, striking forward, defying the rules and logic itself.  Interesting.  Strange got the feeling that there was something more here at play, something he didn’t know yet.  But it wasn’t a threat.  Yet.  It could wait.  He moved to the next galaxy, the next reality that had been entwined with his.  

Next.  His mind reached out once more.  Now this place...this one was interesting.

It has power.  Not separated from the real world, not some ancient deities having eldritch chess games.  No.  This one had...something different.  An energy field, created from the energy of all living things, surrounding them, binding them, letting some get a taste of its power.  Most interesting indeed.  He went further.  

A field.  A field of ghosts.  Roughly divided in two.  On one side, strength, power, hate, rage, passion.  On the other, peace, knowledge, serenity, harmony.  Two different sides, two different users and practitioners of this energy field.  Different individuals.  No gods.  No demons.  Only mortals.  But powerful ones.  Two in particular stood out.  Both on the side of passion.  A void, a hungry, hungry void encompassing an individual of massive power.  Another, a crackling nimbus of darkness and selfishness.  They did nothing.  But should they break free from this field of ghosts...the consequences...hmmm.  What was this place, even?  A place of the dead?  Reflections of the living?

Strange whirled around as he felt a presence behind him.  Another shade.  But not milling on the field with the others.  This one stood alone.  It was of both sides...but neither.  Light and dark swirled within the figure in perfect harmony.  It walked forward, towards him.  Strange could sense it was, or once was, a human.  It wore stylized armor and a mask under a black, heavy, hooded robe.  It inclined its head in greeting to Strange.  

“What...what are you, exactly?” asked Strange.  The robed figure started out on the field of ghosts.  

“I was once like you, sorcerer.”  The voice was whispery, swirling, ghostly.  Beneath Strange could hear the faint trace of the voice of a dead man.  “A man with a destiny.”  

“Why are you not with the others?” said Strange.  The figure gave the phantom impression of a laugh, then a sigh.  

“I do not walk in the light, for it robs me of the stars.  I do not walk in the dark, for it robs me of my surroundings.  I walk in the twilight, and while both are dulled, I can see the entire picture and walk in balance.”  He turned towards Strange.  “Some say it is between light and dark.  It is not.  You must have balance.  You must have harmony between the two.  There is a war coming, sorcerer.  A war that you must win.  Your power will be with you.  Always.  Remember that.”  The ghost faded into oblivion, and the vision of the field ended.  Odd. The vision was something to meditate on for another day.  After he had the complete picture.  

Next one.  This one had a parallel universe.  A shadowy reflection of the real world, ruled by...something.  The ruler wasn’t human, wasn’t demon or god, it was...something else.  A creature of the shadows.  Formed by them.  Made by them.  This reality was odd, yes, but it had no place in the real world.  It could not come to nor affect the realm he was sworn to protect.  No threats here.  Next.  

No magic here.  Science.  More than anything else.  Fine.  Good, actually.  Less work for him to do.  He was about to turn and leave, when he felt a presence.  Something different.  An ancient being.  Strange blinked, and suddenly found himself in a blank white room.  What?

Staring at him, lounging in a comfortable white chair with a drink in hand, was a man (no, being, he corrected himself) wearing a ridiculous, outlandish, garb of an old school extremely wealthy Renaissance priest.  Okay.  That was a new one.  Personally, he much preferred the man from the other galaxy with his armor and heavy robe.  Whatever.  He was getting sidetracked.  The being grinned at him.  

“Surprised?” it asked.  Strange recovered quickly. 

“No,” he replied.  The being laughed uproariously.  

“He he, yes you are!”  It sipped its drink.  “It is so rare to get guests!”  He turned suddenly, looking around at things that were not there.  “Hmm.  My time is short.  There is much work to be done in little time.  The gods of humanity are outnumbered.  A war is coming.  Heh.  I see someone already told you that.  Yes.  There are forces teaming up.  The darkness is spreading.”  The being leaned closer.  “I usually am not so straight forward, but it is doubtful you’ll see me again, so I must tell you these things now.  Anyway, be prepared.  Have fun.  Try not to die.  That would be bad.”  The being snapped its fingers, and the room disappeared, leaving Strange hovering over the universe once more.  He shook his head.  Usually massively powerful beings did not make odd jokes while inviting him for drinks.  More things to remember, more things to meditate on.  He had to move on.

In two other universes, nothing.  No semblance of any sort of magic or higher beings.  Good.  Nothing to worry about there.  Next.  

No magic here.  Nothing.  But..something was off.  The souls of the dead were...missing.  Nothing here.  Odd.  No matter.  No gods, no demons, no other eldritch beings.  Fine.  Mysteries could be solved on other days.  He had more important things to do.  

He turned his gaze to the last galaxy.  Felt as his mind and spirit floated forward.  Immediately, he recognized this galaxy as two dimensions in one.  Strange.  But today was a day for oddness.  Warily, he crept forward, mentally entering the new galaxy.  

Emotion.  Hate.  Rage.  BLOOD.  Apathy.  Stagnation.  ROT.  Movement.  Hope.  CHANGE.  Lust.  Pain.  EXCESS.  So much.  Too much.  Conflicting ideas.  Dead uncountable, screaming in torment from a sea of souls.  A Great Game, a chess match between beings he didn’t even want to know existed.  And endless war, for billions of years, between factions so powerful he felt as if he were a single grain of sand in an hourglass, a person of such small importance that he could do nothing to change the future that would doom everything.  

He screamed as these emotions, as the chaos of this place engulfed him, clawed at him, threatened to drown him.  He tried to break free, used all of his power to try and get as far away from this place as he could, away from the madness.  He gritted his teeth and focused, focused harder than he ever had, focused harder than the time after the wreck where he could not get his hands from shaking.  He felt as if he were trapped, unable to run as if in a terrible nightmare.  He could feel as creatures, demonic inhabitants of this realm started to notice his presence, started to turn their hungry stares towards him as he struggled even harder, looking for any salvation.  

A light.  Faint, in the darkness.  He rushed towards it, the souls of the damned clawing at his cloak, the demons closing in with the force of an unstoppable tide.  He felt as if he were on a treadmill, unable to go anywhere, stuck in one spot, pursuers closing in.  He felt their hot, foul breath on his back, felt their horrible talons and teeth…

Then, nothing.  He spun.  Nothing.  No pursuers.  No demons.  He fell to his knees, breath coming in gasps.  After he caught his breath, he came to his feet and looked at his surroundings.  He was still in the sea of souls.  Still in this odd, horrible dimension.  But, this part was different.  A blinding, golden light shot up as if from nowhere, keeping the darkness and terror at bay.  What?  How?  He walked forward, surroundings bare, the great golden light making sure that no demons tread here.  As he walked, he felt...something.  

A single voice, screaming through the void.  A soul slit, in utter agony, bruised, beaten, but unbowed.  Strange felt the voice, using his powers to attune himself to it.  It had been in pain for...millennia now.  Pain was a constant companion.  But it would not give into the pain.  Never.  

Strange looked forward.  The beam was being produced by something...no.  Wrong.  Someone.  He shuddered involuntarily.  The sheer power required to produce such a thing, let alone to sustain it…  No wonder the voice was in pain.  Strange looked around again.  He had seen enough.  Knew enough.  Time to go back.  He leapt up, leaving this place, still keeping the light in sight...

When suddenly a being of unfathomable power and incalculable malevolence turned it’s gaze towards him.  He shied away from it.  Now was not the time to trifle with such a thing.  

Time, space, and reality warped around him.  Every color, yet no color swirled.  The being came into focus in front of him.  It was ever-changing, morphing from one form to the next with no pretext.  He hid his eyes.  To stare at it would be to go mad.  It studied him.  Looked at him with amusement, like a child studying insects under a microscope.  Then, it spoke.  Its voice was the worst thing Strange had ever heard.  Constantly changing, echoing like a nightmare into the void around him.  

“The Anathema's pathetic light cannot protect you for long, sorcerer.”  Strange winched, and shielded his face even more.  

“What are you?” he asked in response.  The being laughed.  Strange screamed.  The laugh echoed around him, promising the bending of time and reality as he knew them.  

“Do not ask which creature screams in the night.  Do not question who waits for you in the shadow.  It is my cry that wakes you in the night, and my body that crouches in the shadow.  I am Tzeetch, and you are the puppet that dances to my tune…”  Strange pulled back.  This was out of his league.  He made a motion, and activated his one, final, failsafe.  The locket around his neck opened, and a stone within glowed green.  The being, Tzeetch, grimaced, hissed, and launched at the same time.  

“Oh, ho!  Your pathetic trinket cannot keep you safe for long.  Every time you use your power, every time anyone bends the laws of nature to their own whims, I will be waiting.  Know that I will be watching you and guiding your fate, mortal.”  Strange said nothing.  He could do nothing against such a being.  “Now, go pack to where you came from.”  With a great, ringing, clap, Strange opened his eyes.  He found himself back in New York.  His cloak let him down with a thud on the hardwood floor.  He winced, then stood.  A meeting had to be called.  He just hoped superheroes would be enough to stop whatever came next.  

[Author’s note: For the curious, Tzeetch is pronounced zeen-ch]

I hope you liked it.  While I didn’t want to give you the names of any of the people in Strange’s visions, preferring instead for you to guess for yourselves, the line “I am Tzeentch and you are the puppet that dances to my tune” was just too good to pass up.  I also do hope that you could follow at least some of my ramblings there, but, if you couldn’t, feel free to ask me any questions you may have, along with any comments, criticisms, requests, or concerns.  Wherever you are, I hope you have a great day.  

#writing #my writing #fiction #crossover #crossover story #ulitmate crossover #fanfic #magnificent scoundrels

[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

Behind The Album: OK Computer

The third studio album from Radiohead was released in May 1997 by Parlophone Records. This would mark the first album that Nigel Godrich worked on as their producer. The band would self produce the entire album themselves, which they have done on every record since. In 1995, Brian Eno asked the band to contribute a song to a charity compilation for War Child entitled Help. They were scheduled to do the recording in only a day, which led to the track, “Lucky.” Godrich would say of the recording. “Those things are the most inspiring, when you do stuff really fast and there's nothing to lose. We left feeling fairly euphoric. So after establishing a bit of a rapport work-wise, I was sort of hoping I would be involved with the next album." This track would form the foundation of what would become OK Computer. In early 1996, the group took a break from touring because they found it a bit too stressful. Thoughts now turned to a new record with the mindset of distancing themselves from anything similar to The Bends. Drummer Phillip Selway would say, “There was an awful lot of soul-searching [on The Bends]. To do that again on another album would be excruciatingly boring.” The label gave the band a rather good sized budget for recording equipment for the new release. A number of producers were considered for the album, but they kept coming back to Godrich as an advisor on equipment. Eventually, the band hired him as the producer. Ed O’Brien said of the album, “Everyone said, 'You'll sell six or seven million if you bring out The Bends Pt 2,' and we're like, 'We'll kick against that and do the opposite'."

In early 1996, Radiohead began proper recording of the LP at Canned Applause Studios in Oxfordshire, England. Issues immediately came up as the band had difficulty staying focused on one song all the way to completion. Selway would talk about this later, “We're jumping from song to song, and when we started to run out of ideas, we'd move on to a new song ... The stupid thing was that we were nearly finished when we'd move on, because so much work had gone into them." Although the members of the group were considered equals, the voice of Thom Yorke always represented the loudest one in terms of musical direction. Godrich would talk about his role within the group in an interview. They “need to have another person outside their unit, especially when they're all playing together, to say when the take goes well ... I take up slack when people aren't taking responsibility—the term producing a record means taking responsibility for the record ... It's my job to ensure that they get the ideas across." His permanent role on each Radiohead album would lead to the producer being called the sixth member of Radiohead. After only recording four songs, the band left the Canned Applause Studio for a variety of reasons Including the fact that the studio had no bathrooms or dining rooms. They decided to take a break from recording in order to support Alanis Morissette on tour, which gave them a chance to try some of their new tracks live. Around the same time, Director Baz Luhrmann asked the band to contribute a song to his film, Romeo and Juliet. “Exit Music for a Film” would be played as the credits rolled during the movie, but they did not give Luhrmann permission to place the track on the movie soundtrack. Yorke would later observe that this song became very important to the album. It “was the first performance we'd ever recorded where every note of it made my head spin—something I was proud of, something I could turn up really, really loud and not wince at any moment."

In September 1996, the band began recording again at a mansion in Bath, England owned by actress Jane Seymour. Jonny Greenwood would say the environment represented a much more pleasant change for the group. It “was less like a laboratory experiment, which is what being in a studio is usually like, and more about a group of people making their first record together." One quality that the band enjoyed during the sessions came in the fact that they took full advantage of the natural environment of the mansion. “Exit Music for a Film” utilized some natural reverb courtesy of a stone stairwell. They recorded Let Down” in an empty ballroom at 3 o’clock in the morning. The group worked at its own pace as Ed O’Brien observed later. “The biggest pressure was actually completing [the recording]. We weren't given any deadlines and we had complete freedom to do what we wanted. We were delaying it because we were a bit frightened of actually finishing stuff." A majority of the album would be recorded live with no overdubs because Yorke hated them. The band completed the rest of the album at the studio in Saint Catherine’s towards the end of 1996. In January 1997, the strings for the album were recorded, then they spent the next two months mastering and mixing the album. Actually, the mixing of the album only took a couple of days. Nigel Godrich would later comment, “I feel like I get too into it. I start fiddling with things and I fuck it up ... I generally take about half a day to do a mix. If it's any longer than that, you lose it. The hardest thing is trying to stay fresh, to stay objective."

Several artists would influence what would become the finished product of OK Computer. First and foremost came the 1970 album Bitches Brew by jazz great, Miles Davis. Thom Yorke would tell Q what he saw in that recording that made up his vision for this album. “It was building something up and watching it fall apart, that's the beauty of it. It was at the core of what we were trying to do with OK Computer." Other artists that helped to inspire the record included Elvis Costello, REM, PJ Harvey, the Beatles, Can, and composer Ennio Morricone. Jonny Greenwood would describe OK Computer as an attempt to recreate the sound on all these great records, but they missed the mark. The band would expand their instrumentation for this album to include electric piano, Mellotron, cello and other strings, glockenspiel and electronic effects. Spin would say this about the release, “A DIY electronica album made with guitars." The lyrics to the album focused on themes much more conceptual when contrasted with The Bends. Yorke would sing about a wide variety of topics including transportation, technology, insanity, death, globalism, capitalism, and more. The singer would say, “On this album, the outside world became all there was ... I'm just taking Polaroids of things around me moving too fast." He also took inspiration for some of the lyrics from a selection of books including Noam Chomsky, Eric Hobsbawm's The Age of Extremes, Will Hutton's The State We're In, Jonathan Coe's What a Carve Up! and Philip K. Dick's VALIS. Despite the abstract nature of the lyrics on the record, many critics have looked upon OK Computer as a concept album. They argue that there exists a singular theme running throughout the record, but the band has consistently denied any attempt at making such a release. Jonny Greenwood commented, “I think one album title and one computer voice do not make a concept album. That's a bit of a red herring." They did pay particularly close attention to the order of the tracklist taking almost two weeks to complete it.

The album opens with “Airbag,” which highlights the drumming of Phillip Selway. The track had been inspired by the work of DJ Shadow. The band would later admit that they represented novices in this attempt to base a song on DJ Shadow due to their lack of time with programming. Yorke had actually read an article in a magazine entitled “An Airbag Saved My Life.” Another book that helped to create the basis for the song lyrics emerged in the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Yorke had always been obsessed with the idea that any time you get into a car you could possibly die at any second. The second track “Paranoid Android” stands out as one of the longest tracks in the band's entire catalog. Two songs inspired it from classic rock, “Happiness Is a Warm Gun” by the Beatles and “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen. The lyrics are meant to reference the alien from Douglas Adams’s A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Yorke got the idea after watching a woman lose her mind after a drink spilled on her at a bar in Los Angeles. “Subterranean Homesick Alien” referenced “Subterranean Homesick Blues” by Bob Dylan. The lyrics are meant to refer a person who is abducted by aliens, then returns home to realize his life is in no way any different. The beginnings of the theme for this track actually began for the singer in private school when he had an assignment to recreate a British literary movement called Martian poetry. Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare inspired the lyrics to “Exit Music for a Film.” This should come as no surprise as the band had specifically created the song for a remake film. Yorke would use it as a chance to simply recap the entire narrative in the song because Zeffirelli’s version of the film greatly affected him at the age of 13. “I cried my eyes out, because I couldn't understand why, the morning after they shagged, they didn't just run away. It's a song for two people who should run away before all the bad stuff starts.” The singer had tried to replicate Johnny Cash’s Live at Folsom Prison as he sang along to his acoustic guitar. “Let Down” represented an attempt by the band to recreate the sound made famous by Phil Spector and his wall of sound. Yorke would later comment that the lyrics are “about that feeling that you get when you're in transit but you're not in control of it—you just go past thousands of places and thousands of people and you're completely removed from it.” The singer would look upon such lyrics as perfect symbolism for Generation X, which had strongly influenced the direction of it. “Karma Police” contains two major sections that alternate between piano and guitar, which originally came from “Sexy Sadie” by the Beatles. The title of the song was an inside joke between the band during the previous tour. If something bad happened to someone, they would say that the karma police were going to get them. The short Interlude “Fitter, Happier” became something that the Radiohead frontman wrote in 10 minutes while on a break. The voice came from the Macintosh Simpletext software application. He would later describe the words as a “checklist for slogans from the 1990s.”

“Electioneering” turned out to be one of the band’s heaviest rock oriented songs probably ever with lyrics that were inspired by the Poll Tax Riots. Another source of inspiration came in the book Manufacturing Consent by Noah Chomsky. “Climbing Up the Walls” has been described by Melody Maker as “monumental chaos.” The track was arranged by Johnny Greenwood for 16 instruments based on composer Krzysztof Penderecki's “Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima.” No Surprises” would be initially inspired by “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” by the Beach Boys, but they really wanted to replicate the mood of “What a Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong or the soul music of Marvin Gaye. Yorke would say the song’s narrator is “someone who's trying hard to keep it together but can't.” The track that started it all “Lucky” was actually inspired by the Bosnian War. Yorke wanted to illustrate the actual terror of that conflict on the charity album, Help. Another theme that he drew upon emerged in his own anxiety about transportation. Critics have likened the guitar on the song to 1970’s Pink Floyd. The final track on the album “The Tourist” was specifically arranged by Jonny Greenwood to create a bit of space on the LP. The lyrics originated from Yorke witnessing tourists in France trying to see as many sites as possible. The title of the album came from the 1978 radio series based on The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy when character Zaphod Beeblebrox says, “Okay, computer, I want full manual control now." They had first heard the line while listening to the series on the bus for their tour in 1996. Yorke would say this about the title later. It “refers to embracing the future, it refers to being terrified of the future, of our future, of everyone else's. It's to do with standing in a room where all these appliances are going off and all these machines and computers and so on ... and the sound it makes." The artwork would be created by both Yorke and Stanley Donwood using a computer. The Radiohead singer would observe this about the art, “It's quite sad, and quite funny as well. All the artwork and so on ... It was all the things that I hadn't said in the songs."

Leading up to the release of the album, the band got very little support from Capitol Records because they did not have too much faith in the commercial potential of it. Much of the pessimism came in the fact that the record did not have any singles to put on the radio. Ed O’Brien would call it the “lack of a Van Halen factor.” The singles that were released from OK Computer included “Paranoid Android,” “Karma Police,” and “Lucky.” All of the singles charted in the top 10 in the UK, while they also did very well making the top 20 on the US charts. Their official website was created in order to promote the record, as well as some non-traditional promotional techniques by the record label. One such idea came in their decision to take out full-page ads in popular British newspapers and magazines with only the lyrics to “Fitter, Happier.” Another promotion sent out floppy disks to people in the press, which included many Radiohead screensavers. Upon its official release, OK Computer would debut at number one on the UK charts, while in the US the record made it to number 21. Please note that this was the highest American debut for the band. By September 2000, the release had sold 4.5 million copies worldwide.

Critics loved the album across the board. Writer Tim Footman would comment, “Not since 1967, with the release of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, had so many major critics agreed immediately, not only on an album's merits, but on its long-term significance, and its ability to encapsulate a particular point in history." Many critics saw it as a very important album. Mojo wrote in their review, “Others may end up selling more, but in 20 years' time I'm betting OK Computer will be seen as the key record of 1997, the one to take rock forward instead of artfully revamping images and song-structures from an earlier era.” The New Yorker would congratulate the band on taking many more risks artistically then their contemporaries like Oasis. “Throughout the album, contrasts of mood and style are extreme ... This band has pulled off one of the great art-pop balancing acts in the history of rock." Most of the reviews that were slightly mixed seemed to focus on the fact that when compared with The Bends, this record did not contain as many catchy songs. The release would go on to win the Grammy for Best Alternative Album, but did not win Album of the Year. The praise for the album seemed to inundate the band a little too much. Also, Radiohead did not agree with the universal assessment that they had made the greatest progressive or art rock record since Dark Side of the Moon. Thom Yorke would say, “We write pop songs ... there was no intention of it being 'art'. It's a reflection of all the disparate things we were listening to when we recorded it."

The legacy of the album came to be represented in a variety of ways. First, the release of OK Computer coincided with the election of Tony Blair. Some writers have pointed to the pessimism on the record as a sign of things to come. Stephen Hayden would write, “Radiohead appeared to be ahead of the curve, forecasting the paranoia, media-driven insanity, and omnipresent sense of impending doom that's subsequently come to characterise everyday life in the 21st century." Second, the arrival of this album directly coincided with the decline of Britpop. The Oasis album Be Here Now did not attain the commercial or critical success that What’s the Story Morning Glory had received in 1995. Third, OK Computer directly influenced a new generation of artists including bands like Bloc Party and TV on the Radio. The album has landed on many lists over the subsequent years as one of the best releases of the decade and all time. Yet, not all retrospective reviews have been kind to OK Computer as it has also landed on some lists as one of the most overrated records of all time. A New Musical Express column criticized the release as the exact point when Radiohead stopped being good, but instead started to become important.

[hearts-hunger]

If I Were a Carpenter

Summary: Reader goes to a Smile show and Brian thinks she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. So much fluff :)

Pairings: smile-era!Brian May x reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I found out that Smile included their cover of Tim Hardin’s “If I Were a Carpenter” in their sets, and it’s such a pretty song that I couldn’t pass up a chance to write a cute fic about it. Enjoy! ♥

The first time you met him, he sang to you.

Well, not to you, specifically, but you were there. And perhaps it was due to the fact that you couldn’t take your eyes off him that you noticed, but his hazel-eyed gaze seemed to come back to you more than anyone else in the small crowd that filled the pub that Friday night. You let yourself think it as you watched him play with his band, utterly captivated by a man you’d never even met.

You knew the band was called Smile, but past that, you only knew what you’d heard from your girlfriends as they gushed on the way to the pub. You didn't usually go out to the pub with them; your Friday nights were spent studying, trying to make the most of your education at Imperial College London. They’d convinced you to come that night, though, and you reluctantly left your books behind to walk into the village and have a drink at the Foxtail pub.

Your friends had spent the whole walk giggling about the band members and daring each other to try and get a date with one of them after the set. You were content to let them plan and dream, just enjoying being with them, but you didn’t participate in the planning. You didn’t even know who these band members were, much less if you’d like to go out with one. Besides, they probably had girls throwing themselves at them all the time. There was no way they’d even notice you.

You got a lager and found a spot at a table near the stage, chatting with one of your friends while the band set up their instruments. Your friends were in an absolute tizzy about the blonde drummer - Roger, you heard someone call him - and you couldn’t blame them. He was very cute, and the bassist wasn’t half bad either. Both of them winked at the girls that called their names, their grins driving your friends wild.

You took a sip of your beer and nearly choked when you saw the third band member walk on stage. He was gorgeous. Any thought of the drummer or bassist was immediately swept from your mind as you saw the tall guitarist. He pushed his curly brown hair back from his face as he took his guitar off its stand and slung the strap over his shoulder, holding the instrument as if it were a natural extension of himself. You got a full view of his face when he adjusted his microphone and felt butterflies at the gentle beauty of his features.

“Who’s that?” you asked your friend.

She didn’t have time to answer before he stepped up to the mic, a smile lighting up his face.

“Hello, everybody,” he said. “Thanks for coming out. We’re called Smile, as you can see - ” He gestured to the poster behind them, Don’t Forget to Smile written in big letters across it.

“Tim’s on bass guitar,” he continued, “and of course we’ve got Roger on drums.”

Several girls cheered at Roger’s name and one even called out to him.

“Yeah, we feel the same way,” Brian joked. You didn’t spare Roger a glance, totally entranced by Brian’s soft voice and the way his smile shone like the sun.

“And I’m Brian, resident guitarist,” he said, lovingly tapping his guitar. He gave a soft laugh as he looked out over the audience. “We’d like to start out with an original that we...” He trailed off as his gaze snagged on you. Your eyes met and your breath caught in your chest.

He didn’t look away from you as he tried to continue. “That we, um...”

You held his gaze for a second longer before you came to your senses and looked away, a fierce blush rising to your cheeks. Were you really distracting him that badly? You felt a spark of flattered excitement in your chest and couldn’t stop the smile that crossed your face.

“An original that we recorded in June,” Brian finished quickly, sounding flustered. “This one’s called ‘Step On Me’. Hope you like it.”

You dared look up again when they started playing and noticed that Brian was deliberately looking anywhere except where you were. It might have been the stage lights or the heat of the pub, but his cheeks and nose were pinked with an endearing blush. You couldn’t take your eyes off him as he played, enraptured by the skill with which he drew the notes from his guitar and the way his whole body moved with the melody. His features were sharper as he concentrated, passion and dedication showing in his expression.

He sang backup with Tim singing lead, and though you thought the harmony sounded nice, you couldn’t really get a feel for how Brian’s voice sounded. You wondered if he ever sang lead. His speaking voice was so gentle that you almost didn’t know if it was possible for his singing voice could sound sweeter.

They played for about half an hour, to varying degrees of interest. People came in and out of the pub, including some of your friends, but you were in your seat the whole time. You felt you could watch Brian play forever.

After a particularly rocking number called “Doing Alright”, Roger waited for the applause to die down before addressing the audience.

“Alright, kids,” he said from his place behind the drum kit. “We’re gonna close this set out with a cover from one of our favorites, Tim Hardin. And you’ll have a special treat tonight and get to hear Brian’s pipes, if he can remember how to play and sing at the same time.”

A ripple of laughter went through the crowd. You felt your pulse quicken in excitement; you were finally going to get to hear Brian sing by himself.

Brian stepped up to his mic and humbly acknowledge the applause that met him. He strummed a few notes. “This one’s called ‘If I Were A Carpenter’,” he said. “Some of you may know it; sing along if you do.”

He looked down at his guitar as he plucked out a lovely waterfall of notes, Roger coming in lightly on the drums to accompany him. Brian lifted his head to meet the mic, his eyes fluttering shut as he began to sing.

“If I were a carpenter,” he sang, “and you were a lady, would you marry me anyway? Would you have my baby?”

You gave a soft gasp. His voice was beautiful, even more beautiful than his speaking voice. It was gentle and sweet and full of longing. You’d never heard anything like it, and you never wanted to stop listening to it.

He opened his eyes again as he strummed a moment, Tim’s bass line coming in more noticeably.  When Brian lifted his head again he looked right at you, his gaze soft and intentional. You felt a thrill in your chest.

“Save my love for sorrow, save my love for lonely,” he sang. “I’ve given you my tomorrow, love me only.”

You couldn’t help the blushing smile that rose to your face, spellbound and completely enamored of him as he held your gaze. He was singing those lyrics to you. Not to any of the other pretty girls that filled the pub, but to you. His expression didn’t leave any room for doubt. You drew a breath and felt a radiant warmth run all the way through you.

You sat nearly breathless with wonder through the rest of the song, captured by his beautiful hazel eyes and his soft voice singing a love song to you. You felt flush with emotion even as the song ended, Brian’s long fingers delicately picking out the last few notes. Brought back to earth as the audience around you applauded, you joined in and watched as the band members began to pack up their things. 

You wrestled with the idea of going up and talking to him, but your familiar insecurity and natural shyness crept in - what if you had imagined the whole thing? What if you’d misread him? That would be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever done, to try and make a connection with a man who hadn’t even thought of doing so with you. You decided to wait and see if he would come talk to you - he had been the one to start it, after all. You smoothed your dress and tucked your hair behind your ear, trying to still your hands that shook ever so slightly.

A few minutes later, just as you were beginning to think you should head out and forget the whole thing, you saw him coming over to your table from backstage. Your pulse skyrocketed; he really was coming to talk to you. He really had been singing to you. Oh boy.

You stood to meet him, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. He was even prettier up close.

“Um, hi,” he said, offering you a nervous smile.

You smiled back, equally nervous. “Hi.”

He bit his lip. “Well, I guess I threw subtlety right out the window while I was on stage,” he said quickly, flustered. You gave a soft laugh and he seemed to relax a bit.

“So I’m just going to go with it,” he continued, seemingly emboldened. “And I’m going to tell you that you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and I wanted to ask if I could take you out sometime.”

You didn’t know what to say. A blush rose to your face as you fumbled around for an adequate response to what he'd said. You must have been dreaming.

“I...” You looked up at him in wonder, dazzled by his shy smile. You gave a nervous laugh, beyond flattered.

“Yes, absolutely,” you said sincerely. “I would love to.”

He let out a breath and you realized he hadn’t known how you were going to respond. As if you would say no to him, especially after what he’d said.

“Fantastic,” he said happily. “I’m sorry if that was a little much, the whole... you know.” He gestured to the stage.

“No,” you assured him quickly. “No, it was... lovely. Nobody’s ever sang to me before.”

His cheeks reddened. “Well, I’m glad it didn’t scare you off. I did worry.”

You smiled. “No need,” you said. “I don’t scare easily.”

He beamed at you. “Good to know,” he said. “I’m not usually so forward, but to be honest, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

You felt your blush deepen. You were probably beet red by now.

“I’m Brian, by the way,” he said, sticking out his hand.

You shook it. “Nice to meet you, Brian,” you said. “I’m Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N,” he said. “Do you have any plans tonight?”

You shook your head, utterly enchanted by his smile and the gentle way he looked at you.

“Just being with you,” you said.

His lips parted and he looked at you with such tenderness that it took your breath away.

“What?” you asked. He shook his head.

“I’d kiss you if we hadn’t just met.”

Your chest felt like the night sky on the Fourth of July. “Don’t let that stop you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

The sound he made was part laugh, part aching sigh. “Okay.” He leaned close and kissed you, his mouth soft and gentle on yours.

When you came up for air, neither of you said anything for a moment. You couldn’t believe your impulsiveness - you weren’t the type of girl who went around kissing guys you’d just met. But with the way he looked at you, and the way your heart was beating fair to burst, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“We should do that again sometime,” you said. He laughed.

“Agreed,” he said.

“But first,” you said, grabbing your coat from the back of your chair, “we should go get some dinner. And maybe know more about each other than just our names.”

He smiled, filling you with a rush of affection. “There’s nothing I’d like better.”

#i hope you guys like it! #i thought it was pretty cute #let me know what you think! #brian may x reader #smile era!brian x reader #college!brian x reader #gwilym!brian x reader #queen fanfiction #brian may fanfiction #brian may fluff #if i were a carpenter #smile era #my fics #maddie writes stuff! #queen fluff

[behind-the-screen-of-bangtan]

Autobiographic references in BTS discography

This post is part of the TSU. It belongs to the first part: Biography.

Suga explained in an interview that all their songs were personal and inspired by their own lives. However, there are some that appear as more biographical than others. Even though they decided to share these stories with us, it remains the boys’ life and as such, there won’t be in-depth analyses.

The origins: using 사투리 (Satoori) and talking about Korea

Korea used to be made of 8 provinces that all have their own culture and variation of language (called satoori). As the boys come from different places, they use different dialects that are sometimes different from standard Korean. For details, I let you refer to the analyses linked below.

(original map src)

The point here is that while most of their songs are in standard Korean, there have been times where they used satoori. The biggest case is obviously “팔도강산” (Paldogangsan, meaning “the scenery of all parts of Korea” and titled “Satoori Rap” in English; lyrics here) but you can also find some in “어디에서 왔는지” (Where did you come from? Lyrics here) and “Ma City” (lyrics).

“Satoori Rap” and “Ma City” are also the occasion to teach us more about the land of Korea and some of its different regions.

You can refer to those explicative posts to appreciate all the references:

Doolsetbangtan’s translation and notes about “Satoori Rap” and “Ma City”

Muish’s ramblings about “Satoori Rap” and “Ma City”

DKDKTV’s explanation about “Satoori Rap”

Last detail about “Satoori rap”: it was originally a song released in 2011 by the rap line only (src)

More recently, BTS also showed Korean traditional culture to their fans through the song “IDOL” (lyrics). The lyrics, dance, outfits, and background all include elements from the Korean culture (see the post about “IDOL” for a list).

This is important on two levels.

First, South Korea has a heavy history of intern conflicts between the regions. One sadly famous fight is between the Jeolla province (J-Hope’s birthplace) and  Gyeongsang (Suga, Jimin, V and Jungkook’s birthplace). Muish has a note about it and ARMY SALON made a complete post about the Gawngju uprising from May 18, 1980. It’s thus a meaningful move to integrate the different regions of Korea in one song, as a message of peace and a reminder that they’re all from the same country, as explained by RM in “Satoori Rap”:

“Why Keep Fighting Either way, they’re all in Korean Look up, and we look up at the same sky”

Note that however, the boys clearly stated that they made “Satoori Rap” “for fun” and to “diss each other” (src).

Second, K-pop is usually seen as a Korean copy of Western pop music. Integrating purely Korean elements thus counter this cliché. It seems there was a real intention of making Kpop evolve - or more exactly make it go back to what it was at the time of Seo Taiji and the Boys (see Vox article and this extract from COOLKKADANG EP. 312 (20190522)) - when the boys debuted. Not a purely commercial product but an art with a message. It would thus be important to call BTS a Kpop band because that way they can make the notion of Kpop evolve. The problem is that they redefined the genre so much it can’t really be conceived as K-pop anymore. The boys have also decided to rather focus on just doing their thing rather than being a superhero.

The introduction: 2, 3 방! 탄! 안녕하세요 방탄소년단입니다

BTS introduced themselves through several of their songs. The rap line explained to us how they got into hip-hop in “Skit: Circle Room Talk”, “길” (Road/Path), and later in Dark & Wild’s “힙합성애자” (Hip Hop Lover). You can find more about BTS and their relationship with Hip-Hop in the Socio-political narrative part here.

2 Cool 4 Skool plays its role as the first contact between BTS and the public. “Intro: 2 Cool 4 Skool” explains the goal of the group:

“2 cool 4 skool We tell our story on behalf of those in their 10s and 20s you take that”

The lyrics from “We Are Bulletproof pt.2” present the group and emphasize how they worked harder than anyone before debuting:

“At the practice room instead of school I danced and sang all night While you all played I lived my dream”

“Everywhere I go everything I do I’ll show myself as much as I’ve sharpened the knife All those people who’ve ignored me now Oh oh oh oh oh oh hey shout it out Oh if you’ve done as much as me throw a rock We go hard we’ve got no fear”

And in the first hidden track, “Skit: on the starting line”,  RM talks about the feelings he had while he was a trainee.

An idol’s everyday life

BTS has kept us updated on their whereabouts through other songs. While “Skit: Circle Room Talk” and “Outro: Circle Room Cypher” were staged to sound like they were at school, even ending interrupted by the teacher for the skit, “Skit: R U happy now?” is closer to the boys’ idol life as it happens in a car before a fansign. It’s hard to know how much in their skits is scripted or not (RM talked about how they recorded skits in his Vlive about Her here, at 37:10, and said they had no script but they did talk about it beforehand and the recording was later edited) but all the following ones until 화양연화 Pt.2 will be about the boys’ lives as idol: in “Soulmate” they fool around in the studio, in “Expectation!” they want the first place in music shows and in “One night in a strange city”, they bicker after a concert. The last Skits to date are “Billboard Music Awards Speech” and  “Skit: 망설임과 두려움” (Hesitation and Fear). The first one is about BTS’ being acknowledged in the US - and basically worldwide - and thus reaching yet another stage in their career while the second is about the doubts they have after reaching such a place.

There are two more songs about their everyday life: “Rain” that express their emotions on a rainy day and “이사” (Moving On), a song about their first dorm and all the memories it holds. It’s the place we see in Rookie King and during the first birthday party, that they left a bit before 화양연화 Pt.1 and “Moving On” were released. They then settled in the one we see in the first Bon Voyage and in the 2015 Festa.

I’ll also quickly mention “Spring Day” here because the lyrics were inspired by the friendship between RM and Suga, the two members that have been together for the longest time - since 2010.

Interestingly all these songs (except “Spring Day”) are focused on a moment: the skits are little sketches while “Rain” and “Moving On” are about a specific emotion they had at a certain time.

Bangtan’s rise

Opposite to those works about one specific episode, there’s a whole other series of songs, this time dedicated to BTS’ constant hard work since pre-debut. Songs by BTS for BTS, songs that help them stay aware of what they’ve accomplished and what their next goals are. It started with the confidence of getting more and more popular in “진격의 방탄 (Rise of Bangtan)” after the success of 2 Cool 4 Skool:

“Who are we? The rising Bulletproof Boy Scouts Who are we? We swallow them all up without fear Cuz we got fire, fire fire Get higher, higher higher If you don’t know us, then take a good look Who are we? Who? The rise of Bangtan”

Then before they’ve realized it, they’re celebrating their second year of activity in Dark & Wild’s “2학년” (2nd Grade):

“In the blink of an eye, I become a second grader The me who only used to chase my dreams now sets fire on the stage”

“Rise of Bangtan” gains a younger sibling in 화양연화 Pt.1 with “흥탄소년단 / Fun Boyz”. Each member has his own part to tell his story and brag about how they’re fun to hang out with, succeeding at remaining friendly while doing so and not sounding full of themselves.

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life has also more serious songs about their hard work, namely “Dope” and “Baepsae”. However, as these songs can also apply to the whole generation BTS belongs to, they’ll be considered in details in the Socio-political narrative part. Same with “Not Today”.

“Never Mind” is in the same vein of  “I can and will do it” but with a darker vision:

“NEVER MIND NEVER MIND No matter how thorny the road is, run NEVER MIND NEVER MIND There are lots of things in the world that you can’t help You better NEVER MIND NEVER MIND If you feel like you’re going to crash then accelerate more, you idiot NEVER MIND NEVER MIND We’re too young and immature to give up, you idiot NEVER MIND If you feel like you’re going to crash then accelerate more, you idiot If you feel like you’re going to crash then accelerate more, you idiot NEVER MIND”

“Whalien 52″ brings a sadder note to their journey as they reveal this path is not only hard but also full of loneliness.

They’re also aware the dream will eventually end. “Epilogue: Young Forever” is very realistic about it:

“It can’t be mine forever The applause I say to myself shamelessly Project your voice higher, farther Even though there isn’t an eternal audience I’m going to sing I want to be myself today forever I want to be a young forever”

Yet, it’s not enough to make them give up so they keep singing, they keep believing and thus followed “Outro: Wings”:

I trust myself, Since the reason why my back hurts Is so that wings can sprout I believe me, you, though the beginning may be humble, The future will be prosperous

It’s not stated explicitly but the boys explained in later songs that those wings were given by ARMY. Thus the fans saved the artists that had saved them first.

WINGS also contains a series of solo songs that have been the occasion for most of the boys to look and see where they are now: Jungkook thanks his hyungs for raising him in “Begin”, Jimin misses his innocence in “Lie”, Suga remembers how his love for music started with a brown piano in “First Love”, RM philosophizes about the world in “Reflection” and even hints the thematic of self-love, J-Hope thanks his mother for always supporting him until he succeeded in “Mama” and Jin admits he may never be the best but he’ll still try his hardest in “Awake”. It doesn’t seem “Stigma” has biographical elements, it’s rather centered around the BU story.

The Love Yourself series initiates a whole new reflection that’ll be considered in a future post.

BTS shared a lot with us, be it their convictions, their stories, or their cultures. While they started with the idea of protecting the youth, they’ve eventually evolved in friends of the youth and they renounced to this superhero mission. In the same way, they constantly promise to aim higher and to work harder but they’ve learned to enjoy the present as everything will eventually come to an end.

#BTS #TSU #Biography

[ask-de-writer]

THE FIRST ROM HEARTHWARMING :  MLP FAN FICTION

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THE FIRST ROM HEARTHWARMING

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

1632 words

© 2017 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 12/20/17

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

It was late afternoon under low clouds.  The breeze from the Great South bay was chill and carrying a light dusting of snow with it.  It was not cool enough yet for the snow to stick much.  Just patches of thin dusty snow across the road, here and there.  The port town of Milestago was too far ahead for us to reach today.

Nore's and my first foal, the filly Naleen Bel Nore, was pulling in the lead of our hitch.  She was leading the whole band of us in our Pulling cadence song, too.  Much as I do love the Shehan Ja Rom, it contains one tiny inaccuracy.

In telling of how I saved the Original Seven of the Rom, it claims that I died in the deed.  Seems pretty obvious to me that I didn't die!  I mean, here I am Pulling in the harness alongside the lovely chestnut sorrel horse who is my wife, Nore.

As the song got to the part where the I died and the band had to go on, finding the spring of Sha Ja Shehan, whose water and abundant browse saved them all, I grumbled, “It was a NAP, just a nap!  I came right along as soon as I woke up!”

It was equally obvious that my lovely horse was waiting for my little snort! With a grin, she pointed with an ear at the snow patch under hoof at the moment.  Naleen was leaving tracks.  Nore was leaving tracks. The soft crunch of the wheels in the hard packed gravel of the road announced that they were leaving tracks.  I wasn't!  Again!  Oops!

Smiling fondly, she avoided directly saying, that I was dead.  A ghost of some sort.  She pointed out, “Thanks to your nap, none of the rest of us died and we are now all free horses.”

Just then, Naleen, in the lead, steered us into one of the excellent Royal Road waysides.  Saved me from some embarrassing repartee.  She is a good filly, growing really well, too.  

Unlike any other member of the band, even though a lovely sorrel like her mother, and very clearly going to be a big horse, like her mother had grown to be, she has a horn.  Not a short unicorn pony horn, colored like the fur of the pony; hers is long, straight and sort of an aged ivory color.  Her magic through the horn is a light green, similar to her eyes.  And strong.  Really strong.

We were setting up our camp, with our caravans in a sort of a ring.  Maina, Malit and their adopted filly, Shehan who was an abandoned waif pony from Haulmarket, before they took her in, camped to our right.  To our left, was Sando and his mate Phapa Al Oosa along with their colt Thom.  Across the mortared stone fire ring of the wayside from us, camped Rom and Sarel.  Their first foal was on the way, but not born yet.

Sando finished securing his awning out over the camp and securing his fabric booth sides to partly cover our camp and Rom's.  By copying him, we had a sort of weather cover and wind break around the whole camp.

Sando announced to all of us, “Today is Midwinter Day!  The shortest day of the year and the longest night!  Do the ponies of Equestria have any sort of holiday or celebration for today?

“In Gyptia the Masters had a celebration but we, as slaves, only served them.  We did not get to celebrate it.”

They all looked at old dead donkey me, waiting for an answer.  I replied, “They do have a celebration called Hearthwarming.  It is done with a pageant about how the land was found and settled.  Nobody, except perhaps the Exile, the old unicorn who teaches you your Equestrian, numbers, and history, knows where they came from.

“They do know that the three kinds, Earth ponies, Unicorns and Pegassi had a society that exploited the Earth ponies for the food that they raised.  Something caused a famine and they had to migrate to a safer place.

“They found the 'rich and empty' land that is now Equestria.  After they settled here, the old tensions came up again.  The Three Kinds did not trust each other.  The crop failures and distrust were blamed on 'windegos,' whatever they may have been.

“A group of foals, two of each kind were trapped by a storm or 'windegos' and found out that they could get along in harmony.  That broke the grip of evil on the land and the Three Kinds now live and work together in Harmony.”

Naleen nodded and observed sagely, “They didn't learn that lesson too well, really, did they?  I mean, donkeys, goats and us horses sort of got left out of the whole getting along in harmony thing, didn't we?”

Shehan, who was a pony before she got adopted by us horses, added, “While that is true, Naleen, there is another part to the celebration.  I got to see it from the outside several times.  After the pageant, they celebrate Harmony by giving each other presents.

“We could do that to celebrate our own harmony.  I mean we could give each other gifts.  After all, the Shehan Ja Rom tells a similar story and WE all get along.  Some of the ponies that we have met on the road are good sorts too.  You know, like Carter, that long haul freight pony whose caravan we fixed when he was broken down, there outside of Trottingham.”

I brightened up.  “That is a good notion, Shehan!  We can do the Shehan Ja Rom and give each other gifts!  We have plenty of good provisions to make us up a nice feast, too!”

We all got busy making up our favorite treats with Ka'chek flour and dried or preserved fruits.  Shehan got a big batch of bread together and was kneading it expertly.  It was shaping up to be a fine feast!

We all heard the creak and soft crunch of wheels on the road outside.  The pony pulling the wagon was limping.  That was all too easy to hear. So were his whimpers of pain.

Naleen left off rolling out her dough and went out to the road like a shot!  We heard her exclamation of surprise!  “Carter!  I never expected to see you this far south!

“Why are you whimpering like that?”

We heard his answer and his pain.  “I got a cargo for Milestago.  I slipped on a snow patch back there a ways.  I think that I broke somethin'. My right foreleg hurts something awful down close to the hoof.”

Naleen demanded, “Carter!  You drop that hitch right now!  Get over to our camp and have Nore and Marchhare look at your leg.  I will get your caravan over into the lee of ours.”

We heard his good natured correction, “It is a wagon, Naleen, not a caravan.”

“You just go and see my mom, got it?”

While Carter was limping his way into our camp, we heard the sounds of Naleen hitching herself to his wagon and dragging it to the safety of the lee of our camp.

When she re entered the camp, she saw Carter laying on his left side on a cushion.  Nore was laying a hoof gently on the lower part of his right leg.  She looked up and asked Naleen, “What did you see that caused you to send Carter here to me so abruptly, Naleen?”

Naleen diffidently suggested, “It felt like a hairline fracture of the right canon bone, mother.”

Nore nodded briskly.  “Exactly right, Naleen.  Tell me what you deduce from that.”

“If Carter had tried to go any further, his right leg would probably break completely in less than a half kilometer, mother.”

“Right again, my filly.  Now what should we do for him?”

“Fix the bone?  I never watched you do that, mother.”

“Now you will see the way of it, my dear.”

Carter nervously interrupted, “Wait.  What is this gonna cost me?  How long am I gonna be laid up?”

I stuck my hoof into the conversation.  “You should be able to pull by tomorrow, Carter.  You have been a friend to us.  We helped you with that wagon breakdown and you have bailed us out on crooked fairground and toll gate charges several times since.

“Besides, this is our first Hearthwarming celebration.  Be a shame to blemish it by not trying to stretch the goodness of Harmony to a friend, wouldn't it?”

“I see, Marchhare.  How is she going to fix a broken bone that fast?”

I shrugged. “No Equestrian words for what she is going to do.  You have heard about Nore's Death Touch?  This is the other side of it.  She can heal too.  She is teaching Naleen, so forgive the Gyptian between them as she works on you.

“We are going to use Gyptian for our music and dances but out of deference to you being here, we will use Equestrian for the feast and such.”

I left Nore showing Naleen how simple it really is to heal a broken bone.  The rest of us all went back to putting together the feast.

With the last of it in the ovens or on the griddles to bake, we broke out the instruments and the song began.  And the dancing.  Never forget the dancing.

Carter looked like he had gone to Paradise, watching and listening.  He did his best to lean his head back and trill for applause in our Rom fashion.

We did not have a lot to share around as gifts but the feast more than made up for it!

~THE END~

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#THE FIRST ROM HEARTHWARMING #MLP Fan Fiction #written by De Writer

[randomconnections]

Irish Music at Village Pizza

I had a very different post planned. I’ve actually got a draft entitled “I Hate Irish Music.” I was going to vent some of my frustrations with the music sessions I’ve attended up here, specifically the Irish sessions. However, I decided to give the genre one more shot, so I decided to try a different session at Village Pizza in Anacortes. My mood did a 180. This felt like the closest thing to the pubs I enjoyed so much while in Ireland.

Here’s how my opening paragraph started on that first draft…

I love Irish music. My favorite experience while in Ireland was hanging out in the pubs and listening to live music. The tunes are infectious and get into your soul. Especially with live music, there is an energy to the reels, jigs, hornpipes, etc., that’s hard to describe. However, I’ve found a problem. Irish musicians [or, more specifically, at least the ones up here] seem to have found a way to suck all of the fun out of it.

All (well, most) of the folks have been very friendly and accepting. However, the Irish musicians have some very specific rules about their sessions. No printed music is allowed – you have to have everything memorized. You don’t try to figure things out by ear in a session – you either know the tune or you don’t, and you don’t join in unless you do know it. You don’t join in a session until you’ve put in your time with a slower, learning group. You don’t improvise – everyone plays the same melody without harmonization, and disputes can break out as to which variation is being played (and there are LOTS of variations to tunes.) I was even taken to task for calling these “jam” sessions. You have to follow the session’s etiquette (whatever that might be.)

Lest any of my Irish music friends take me to task for being too harsh, I’ve heard these statements made in several Irish sessions and have seen words to this effect printed on websites describing the sessions. At one of the sessions I attended an audience member asked about the music and the answers were pretty much what I’ve written above.

With tunes numbering in the hundreds of thousands, plus all the variations and new tunes being written every day, the task of learning the repertoire is daunting. It doesn’t help that after awhile all of these start to sound the same. I can see why someone wanting to join in the fun might opt for an accompaniment instrument like a guitar or a rhythm instrument like the Bodhran. You don’t have to memorize the tunes.

My problem is that I don’t play an acceptable melodic instrument for Irish music. I don’t play fiddle, flute, or Uilleann pipes. I play keyboard and sight-read very well, so I could learn tunes that way. If you play an accompaniment instrument or the Bodhran, then you’re kind of stuck.

I guess my main gripe is that IT’S NOT A CONCERT, DAMMIT! It’s an informal group of somewhat random people getting together to play. I can understand having some guidelines, but unless you’re forming a band then there’s no need to be so uptight about how people join in.

OK, rant over…

So, I was about to give up Irish music entirely and just stick with the Scottish sessions. I knew there were other Irish session around. I’d found out about the one at Village Pizza in Anacortes quite awhile back from The Session website. While at the Bellingham Folk Festival several mentioned that they played at Village Pizza, and I had another fellow player bring it to my attention just recently. On The Session it lists this as a “slow session.” It might be doable.

The problem is that this session meets the exact same time as my Bring Your Own Guitar group, every other Wednesday from 6:00-8:00. I’ve made some good friends at BYOG and don’t want to abandon them. Last Wednesday it seemed that half the group was either sick or would be out of town, so when BYOG cancelled it seemed the perfect opportunity to check out Village Pizza. Sherry, one of my other BYOG friends, joined me for the adventure.

As usual I got to the venue early to scope out the situation. Village Pizza is located on the main drag of Anacortes, on Commercial Street.

Just inside the front door were a set of stairs. I knew they had a meeting space upstairs, so I headed that way. It was dark and definitely not set up for a session, so I headed back down, confused. I had planned to arrive in time to get a bite to eat before the session started. I ordered a pizza and asked about the setup. The group would be playing downstairs near the front windows. I grabbed a table and waited for my pizza.

Sherry and her sister-in-law Marlene soon arrived and joined me. They also ordered food, but it took a long time for it to arrive. Musicians started to arrive first and began claiming space in the appointed area. I still had no food, but moved to the end of one table at the outer edge of the circle.

There were several other people I’d met at various functions joining us. Dennis from Bellingham called me by name and said that he was glad I had made it. A Bodhran player named Laura who joins us regularly in Mount Vernon was there and also greeted me. Brad, who also plays guitar, had been at our last Scottish session. I recognized several others. I felt more at ease joining this group than any other Irish group.

There was another bonus. This group allowed music stands and music. There is no set list as with the “Tartan Top Twenty” but you could refer to any resource or tune book you might have. My stand was in the car and space was at a premium, but I had my iPad. I could (and did) look up tunes when I had the chance.

The music got underway and I still had no food. I should have allowed more time if I was going to eat first. I should have known better – pizza places (good ones, anyway) take awhile to make pies to order. I wasn’t upset about how long it was taking, but when the pizza arrived it was a bit awkward. I would pause to take a bite between tunes, trying to make sure I didn’t get grease on my nice guitar. Sherry had the same problem with her order. The pizza was excellent, but it wasn’t the best of circumstances.

The other awkward bit was that I was seated right in the main thoroughfare. I had to twist and move out of the way so that folks could get in and out of the restaurant. It was a problem.

As for playing the music, it was a blast, but challenging. This was Sherry’s first Irish gig, and she was struggling. At least I knew a bit about the chord progressions and could fake it. Sherry was seated so that she couldn’t see the chords I was making, so she had to wing it occasionally. Brad sat across from her with his guitar, but he was improvising all over the place and difficult to follow. In an e-mail to my BYOG friends I paraphrased Douglas Adams, “…they use some strange definition of ‘slow’ of which I was previously unaware.”

We played until 7:30 when the folks from Village Pizza brought out two large pies for the performers. If I’d known about that I wouldn’t have ordered ahead of time. I had a chance to chat with Bill C., the founder of the session. He had moved to the area from Southern California in 1996 and had started this group some years back. Bill played percussion, and was playing the spoons with vigor this evening. He was an interesting character, and we got along great.

During the break Sherry and Marlene decided to head out, so we were able to close up ranks and continue afterwards. Folks walking down the street would pause in front of the windows to watch and listen. Some even came in for pizza, which is why the place didn’t mind making an investment in pies for us. We got applause after each set of tunes, and it felt great.

Here are a couple of sound clips from the evening. You will hear the typical clatter and noise from the restaurant interspersed with the music. I had my recorder on the table behind me, so it picked up my guitar clearly You’ll also hear Bill playing spoons and occasionally banging out a rhythm on the table.

The first is Swallow-Tail Fly, which I actually know fairly well, followed by another tune I don’t know as well. You’ll hear me pause as I figure out what’s going on. At the end we start to sing and play Happy Birthday for a group coming downstairs from a birthday party held up there.

If you can not see this chirbit, listen to it here https://chirb.it/cnxg6H

Check this out on Chirbit

I don’t know the names of the tunes in this next set. Bill really started knocking on the table at the end of this one.

If you can not see this chirbit, listen to it here https://chirb.it/9eIzzI

Check this out on Chirbit

It was a great evening and it restored my faith in Irish music, so much so that I made some plans and arrangements, but that’s for another post. The folks were warm and welcoming, and I bet we sounded just as good as those other groups that are such sticklers for their rules. At least it was more fun.

I will mention this again in a later post, but I started tin whistle lessons this week so that I could learn more Irish tunes and participate in the melodies. Wouldn’t you know it? One of the first things the instructor talked about was…session etiquette. Oh well.

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How to Choose the Correct Corporate Entertainer for Your Corporate Occasion Enjoyment

live bands for hire melbourne Up Phase Company is an enjoyment company based mostly out of Melbourne Victoria dedicated to elevating the occupations of some of Australia’s most gifted musical artists. Specializing in corporate, weddings,club evenings and all features that need quality amusement.The Melbourne dependent company has skilled workers, a specialized know how and specialists in acquiring any celebration just right. You have almost everything established for your personnel appreciation function or customer appreciation function. Your CEO introduces the leisure for the evening and then, slowly and gradually, almost everything arrives crashing to a halt. Alternatively of the laughter and applause that you hoped to hear, you hear silence and weighty sighs. The talent, which you imagined was the ideal company entertainer for your team, panics and starts insulting the viewers. You slowly slink down into your chair and ponder if your resume is up-to-day. As Maya Angelou once said, "Individuals will overlook what you explained and forget what you did, but they will in no way neglect how you created them really feel." Even though the foodstuff may possibly be great and the place looks gorgeous, these will be speedily neglected. What your group won't overlook is how depressing they felt viewing the entertainer you chose to incorporate some "entertaining" and enjoyment" to your occasion. It's odd that, often, an activities manager will invest months on organizing specified elements of an event - foods, resort, decorations, and so forth - but hold out to the very last minute to e-book the appropriate corporate occasion leisure. Below are a few company event leisure ideas that will help you to make the correct choice of a corporate entertainer for your following meeting or celebration. 1) Hit Your Homework - End relying on a speaker's agency or enjoyment agency to constantly e-book your expertise. Numerous top company entertainers will not necessarily perform with brokers and, consequently, you can skip out on some fantastic talent. Even though brokers can be a good supply for talent, they are not the only way to go. Do not consider that just because a corporate entertainer is on the agent's roster that the agent has actually worked with that talent. Need to you be willing to "broaden your possibilities," do a Google research for conditions like funny motivational speaker or entertaining motivational speaker. Right here you will locate several corporate entertainers that can aid you include the "WOW" aspect to your event. two) Delve into the Demos - Once you have selected an entertainer or two, meticulously view the talent's demo and see if he/she is a good in shape for your group. This is the fastest way to validate that the specific entertainer will operate for you and will save you time - due to the fact if you will not like the video clip, you can swiftly transfer on to your up coming applicant. Although watching the demo, see if the expertise has labored for similar groups. Discover the demographics of the team. Does the video clip reveal group reactions? Is the laughter and applause genuine or is it canned? Are there numerous performance clips or is the video mainly 1 functionality? Did the company entertainer receive multiple standing ovations or just a single? three) Study the Web site - If you like the demo, peruse the talent's internet site to see exactly what variety of company leisure he/she gives. Observe if the company entertainer has a number of software possibilities. Furthermore, look at the organizations for which the expertise has labored and then read through people company's testimonials. A lot of corporate entertainers flash logos of companies on their site nevertheless, when examining for recommendations from individuals companies on the talent's site, these testimonies may not be present. If a expertise is showing a logo of a business, it provides the assumption that he/she has worked with that business and, for that reason, logically, the talent ought to have a testimonial to back again up that declare. If they do not, then what must you believe? four) Testimonials are Tops - Online video recommendations have taken the location of referrals. Alternatively of obtaining to call a person to get a referral on a expertise, a video testimonial will tell you every thing you need to know. What you must look for in a movie testimonial is who is supplying the testimonial and what they said. The testimonial ought to be from the man or woman who booked the expertise and - for company celebration enjoyment - that should be from an activities manager, marketing and advertising or income govt or greater. Audience member testimonials are wonderful even so, you want to listen to from an individual in company who truly booked the talent. Because most company entertainers who are excellent at their job have been doing it for some time, the written recommendations will, certainly, outweigh those on movie. Nonetheless, there should be adequate video clip testimonies to supply you with solid information as to the top quality of the service you can expect from the entertainer. five) Discuss to the Talent - After you have accessed that a certain company entertainer may be ideal for your worker appreciation celebration or customer appreciation function, then speak to the talent directly. A few minutes on the cellphone will lose some mild on how effectively the expertise will not only work for your group, but also function with you. As with all activities, adaptability is the important. If your talent has way too several needs or needs, then you might need to seem elsewhere. Right after all, you are dealing with the requires and demands of your team and your executives. You never need to have a "needy" entertainer, as nicely. For the duration of your contact examine charges, staging specifications and, most importantly, how the entertainer can assist you include the "WOW" aspect to your event. Bottom line: Using the time to uncover the right corporate entertainer for your company function enjoyment does need "time." Nevertheless, function professionals get the time to: program several internet site visits make copious phone calls to resort catering agonize over decorations, strategize resort bookings and loads a lot more to make confident the event is a good results. Never permit your selection for your corporate occasion entertainment be 1 of the very last issues you do, and never always depart it up to one particular source. Don't forget, your group most likely will not likely remember precisely what they ate or the particulars of the decorations on the desk, but they will never ever neglect how miserable they felt watching a lousy corporate entertainer.