#mayor drummer?
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ozmien band au meetcute
me and some friends on a discord server are getting really deep into this band au with our captainsonas and some mark egos, so heres oz's (the drummer of the band) meetcute with damien inside the au
ozmien meetcute cause why tf not
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oz sighed as he tightened the sweater strings on his green hoodie, eyes darting around the bookstore making sure no one could recognise him.
it was the first break he and the rest of the Captain⁵ got since the first leg of their "JUMPING IN AGAIN" tour. daily practices and performances giving the members virtually little to no leisure time to rest. it was a demanding job, yet every time the drummer stepped out into the stage with crowds of people crying out their names with smiles on their faces, he know he wouldn't trade it for the world
however it did make going out leagues harder.
growing up, seeing clips of the beatles running from rabid beatlemaniacs on the street was nothing but a joke played up for the camera. oz found it improbable for fans to be that frantic about their favorite celebrity.
yet after being chased around several cities for the upteenth time he finally learned his lesson.
oz's eyes scanned the book filled shelves intently.
'fiction authors h, fiction authors i, fiction authors j-'
oz stopped.
fiction authors o. in the next aisle!
rounding the corner, oz fiddled with his hoodie right as his body slammed into another who was doing the same.
stumbling backwards, the drummer let out a small yelp before quickly recomposing himself and going to help the person he just ran into.
on the other side of the bookshelf stood a rather tall man bending down to pick up the pile of books he had in his hands. his slick suit seemed almost soft in the yellow light of the bookshop.
"im so sorry," oz whispered, bending down to help him pick up his items. "i wasn't looking at where i was going."
the man chucked breathily, "its fine, me neither!" he whispered back.
smiling inwardly, the drummer picked up the last book before looking up at the man he hit.
"thank you! again im so sorry for hitting you-" the main trailed off, his eyes meeting oz's brown ones.
it looked straight out of a romcom.
oz stared at the man in front of him, eyes wide as a blush formed on his face.
the man was the same, a blush appearing on his tan skin, his softly swooped hair perfectly accenting his wide eyes.
"im-i-im sorry too. really."
the man paused before smiling softly and standing.
"again, it's fine. here." the man extended his free hand out, oz taking it reluctantly before blushing harder at his calloused yet soft palm.
once oz stood, he was ready for the man to awkwardly leave before he noticed that he hadn't moved from his place.
"im damien, pleasure to meet you-?"
oz paused, "the names oswin, the pleasures all mine."
"so, oswin, what brings you to the bookshop?"
"oh, im looking for this one gatsby book. not the original one but the one where-"
"-carraway and gatsby move away to live a nice life together as husbands?" damien interrupted, eyes lit up excitedly.
"yes! the pursuit and the pursuing by aj odasso?"
"the very same! i read it last month and i absolutely loved it, i could lend you my copy and save you the hassle if you want? i live on this street and could grab it right now."
oz stopped for a moment.
while he really had hoped he would own his own copy of the book, he wouldn't mind getting to read it while getting to know damien as well.
"sure!" oz replied, a smile on his face. "do you… want to meet up later at the cafe at the end of the block? i can buy you a coffee in exchange for me lending the book?"
damien agreed, the two splitting off into different directions to meet later at 5pm.
the drummer passed by a bubble mirror at the corner of the store and realized that he had his hood down the entire time.
panic swept through the Captain⁵ member until he realized that he probably wasn't the type to be into the band's kind of music.
the drummer quickly fixed his hood before making his way around the store to buy the other books and stationary he came for.
by the end of his shopping he stepped out into the chilling autumn breeze and checked his phone.
[4:45pm]
pocketing the phone, oz turned to his left and made his way to the coffee shop, his mind screaming at him to ease the nerves.
opening the door with a soft bell chime, the drummer glanced around to see damien on his phone sitting at one of the tables adjacent to the windows peering out into the street.
"hey," oz greeted, sitting at the table across from him.
damien greeted back, a smile on his face as he pocketed his phone before turning to his messenger bag beside him.
"i got you the book! its not that badly torn up but my dog mosbius may have used it as a toy one night."
sliding the book towards oz, the band member chuckled lightly before taking the book and placing it into his plastic bag of books.
"thank you, and i don't mind the tear. at least the books got history no?"
damien nodded. "definitely."
the two continued to talk before finally getting up and ordering their drinks.
the day turned into twilight and eventually the duo had to split ways. quickly exchanging numbers into the others phone before splitting again into the setting sun.
smiling softly to himself, oz rummaged his bag for the book he was lent to quickly skim the description on the back.
flipping through the page absentmindedly, the drummer noticed a lone sticky note on the back of the cover.
"I love your music btw! a big fan <3"
oz blushed. he had known who he was!
…and he was fine with it?
smiling brightly, he placed the book back into his plastic bag and took out his phone to message damien.
oz paused again.
his contact read [damien york]
he was the fucking mayor too?
shaking off the shock, oz began to type
---
[damien york]
"hey, thanks for the book again! want to meet up again soon?"
"for sure! id love to meet again, friday at the same time?"
"im down!"
"see you then mr mayor! ;) "
"likewise, oh captain of mine <3"
---
as the drummer closed his phone and placed it into his pocket. the man let his hood down and walked back down the street to the hotel the band was staying at. a skip in his step as his face blushed madly into the night.
oz could get used to this.
#osmien#ficswin#band au#captain^5#captain⁵#damien the mayor#mayor damien#damien x oz#mayor attorney#ig???#mayor drummer?
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Chapter Six: The Angry-Looking-Man-Child
featured characters: tommy (oc), desdemona, drummer boy, carrington, dr. amari, daisy, hancock, maccready, fahrenheit, zeke, roxy, rowdy, bluejay, johnny d., duke
word count: 3,252
full chapter masterlist
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"Her body can't take much more of this, sir!"
"Push it, Fielding! Push it! If this works, it will be groundbreaking!"
"She's dying, sir. Her heart is palpitating almost erratically!"
"Do as I say!"
"She's waking up!"
"She's... what? Impossible. Double the anesthetic, now!"
"She's waking up!"
Waking up!
Waking up!
Wake up!
Wake up!
Tommy jerked into full consciousness so suddenly she nearly gave herself whiplash. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified. A small groan left her lips when a wave of sharp pain reverberated through her body. Her green irises bounced around the room she was in, jumping from the bed, to the small desk lined with figurines, to the pile of comics on the bedside table, to the shabby purple curtains that were shining in the sunlight. Was she in her trailer?
"Whoa, hey,"
A warm hand landed on her shoulder and gently pushed her back onto the bed. It didn’t take much effort, she was the weakest she’d ever been.
Glancing down, she studied the thick patch that had been taped onto her stomach, and the bandage that was wrapped around her middle several times. There was a little bit of blood seeping through. She had on the pants Daisy had given her, but the shirt was torn into more of a bra. Her boots and gloves were still on, but both had blood spots she’d have to clean out.
It took her a few moments to realize that she was, in fact, actually in her trailer behind the Atom Cats garage, and that the voice that spoke didn't belong there.
"Drummer Boy?" She turned her head and scanned him. He was posted up in her desk chair, sitting right up against the bed. His eyes were dull, but brightened when she looked at him.
"Tommy," He responded, shifting in the chair. She felt both of his hands snake around her left. They were warm.
"You are one tough son of a gun. That was brutal. When we got here I... we thought you were dead," He stated, sucking in a breath, unable to lock his blue irises with hers. "Two days away and you've already dodged death. Twice. By actual millimeters."
Her mind spun and fought to remember everything that had happened. She remembered Peepers, the Brotherhood, the explosion.
With a soft gasp, she sat straight up again with panic on her face. "Where's Zeke?!"
"Hey," Drummer Boy’s looked at her with pity, hands finding their way to her shoulders and pressing her down again. "You need to take it easy. He's in the garage. They're all there."
"All?" She questioned. Drummer Boy nodded.
"Yes, all of them. And Des, and Carrington, and some woman doctor with an accent. She came with two ghouls, a bodyguard, and an angry looking man-child."
Tommy blinked a few times, failing to even process what he said. "That’s all?"
“Yeah,”
The girl sighed, bringing a hand up to rub her eyes. It felt like every time she took a breath something pulled against her insides.
"Who else did you say besides Des and Carrington?"
"Apparently, someone in Goodneighbor tuned in to your frequency before we did. The mayor is here with his bodyguard. And a ghoul and a doctor that insisted they know you. Some short dude, too,"
Tommy sighed and ran a hand through her messy, knotted, bloody hair, grunting with the effort to lift her arm so high.
“What time is it?”
“Three in the afternoon, on Saturday.”
"I wanna see Zeke," She finalized, pushing herself up on her elbows.
Drummer Boy seemed to tense in his seat. "I... don't think-"
"I want to see him," She persisted, sitting up fully with a grunt. The fire in her abdomen only grew more vigorous the more she moved.
"Come on, Tommy-"
"Is he dead?" She questioned, eyeing Drummer Boy with a piercing gaze. He shifted under it.
He cleared his throat. "No, he isn't, but-"
"Then I want to see him," She stated, swinging her legs over the side of the bed with a hiss of pain. Drummer Boy stood up quickly.
"Tommy-"
She pushed herself off of the bed, and she didn't even get fully stood up before a horrible pain shot all the way up and down her body. Her knees buckled, and her hands shot out to grab onto Drummer Boy’s arms to keep her from falling. He flinched, latching onto her arms as well.
"I'm fine," She whispered, staring down at her noodle-ish legs.
He snickered. "You're starting to sound like Deacon."
She rolled her eyes, glancing up at his face only for a moment before she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Drummer Boy went ramrod stiff for a moment. But when he realized what was actually happening, he loosely put his arms around her, too. “I could say the same about you.”
She could’ve stayed there all day, listening to the soft bum-bump of his heartbeat to remind her that she was alive, and he was alive, and everyone was alive despite the attack. But, eventually, she pulled herself away.
“Can you take me to see Zeke, now?”
Drummer Boy sighed, throwing an arm around her back to hold her up. She threw one around his neck.
"Just put all your weight on me," He stated, and together, a wobbly mess, they worked their way out of the trailer and to the front of the warehouse where the bar was.
As soon as they rounded the corner, an entire chorus of voices erupted from inside:
"Drummer Boy! Take her back to bed right now!"
"What is she doing awake?!"
"Is she okay?!"
"She doesn't need to be up yet,"
"Oh, thank God she's awake!"
Tommy's head had already been spinning, but now, it was doing cartwheels. Her eyes had to adjust to the movement. Behind the bar in the warehouse was Bluejay, where he always was. Sitting on the three stools on the other side were Duke, Roxy, and Rowdy. They were all scraped and bruised, but upon further examination, looked alright. Johnny D. was sitting at one of the dining tables that were positioned between the bar and the old car they kept there. His left arm was in a makeshift sling, and he had bandages all over his arm and shoulder. His sleeve had been cut off, much like Tommy’s shirt.
Oh no, her shirt. She was hardly wearing one.
She turned to Drummer Boy. “Uh, could… I wear your jacket until I have a whole shirt?”
“Oh, uh, yeah,” He stammered, quickly pulling off his blue jacket, revealing the brown and tan flannel underneath, and handing it to her. She muttered a thanks and slid it on, pulling it taught around her torso and holding it there.
Upon turning back around, she heard more people speaking somewhere outside the garage, but she couldn’t see them. Instead, she focused back on Johnny D.
"Thank God," She whispered. She managed to separate from Drummer Boy and make her way to the man, wrapping her arms around his neck without making him stand. "I'm so glad you're okay."
"I'm glad you're okay, too," He replied, patting her arm with his uninjured hand.
She parted from him and winced at the pain of standing up straight. Tommy grimaced, and Johnny D. patted her on the back.
"Where's Zeke?"
Suddenly, a hand landed on her shoulder. But when she turned, it was just Drummer Boy.
"He's over there," He pointed to the other side of the warehouse, near the old car. She could see, through the metal mesh walls, a cot with a figure on top, wondering how she hadn't seen it or the giant blue machine beside it before.
She rushed that way, up the few concrete stairs and into the little makeshift room. It had previously been a home for their armor workbench, but was now, decidedly, not. Zeke’s head was poking out from under a scratchy blanket, sunglasses removed and face peaceful. The blue machine whirred and gurgled next to him, small surgical tubes disappearing under the blanket.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. He's in a trauma induced coma. I'm not sure when or... if he's going to wake up. We have fluids and oxygen on him,"
Tommy glanced behind her at the voice, locking eyes with Doctor Amari from Goodneighbor. She looked the same, though a little disheveled and tired.
Tommy wasn’t paying much attention to her appearance because she was focusing so hard on the words that came out of her mouth.
If Zeke woke up?
“…What?"
The woman sighed and placed her hand on Tommy's shoulder, sad brown eyes lingering on the girl’s face. "I'm sorry. I understand he raised you, yes?"
Tommy didn't respond, and everyone in the garage stayed quiet. He couldn’t be in a coma. What was she supposed to do?
"Where are my guns? Did they survive the bombs?" Tommy finally piped up. Wiping away any hint of emotion from her features, she stepped back down the stairs, into the large room with The Cats and Drummer Boy. Amari followed her.
"Not even five minutes awake and you're asking about your guns. You really are one of a kind, Tommy," She glanced at Drummer Boy just long enough to catch his faint smile. She knew he was just trying to lighten the mood, but to be honest, as much as she liked him, she wasn't really in the mood for it.
"Did they?" She replied, glancing at the rest of the Atom Cats, who watched her warily.
"Yeah, your sniper and shotgun. Some stuff in your bag was crushed and broken, but we cleaned it up for ya. Still has a good amount of supplies in it," Bluejay responded from his spot near the bar. “It’s under your bed.”
Tommy sighed, dusting off her pants. "I want-"
"Tommy, we need to talk about work,"
Tommy turned, pulling Drummer Boy’s jacket tight around her as she came face to face with her boss. She hadn’t heard her wal into the garage, but she was suddenly there, staring at her. Desdemona’s red hair was a little disheveled, light green eyes dull with fatigue. She spotted Carrington standing behind her. Drummer Boy settled into the group beside Tommy, and in the distance, she could see a few more individuals standing out by the old gas pumps. Daisy, another ghoul in a… pirate outfit? A girl with orange hair, and a guy clad in brown and green with a sniper rifle thrown over his shoulder. Amari ventured back outside to speak to them — they must’ve all been from Goodneighbor.
"What about work?" Tommy questioned, eyes flicking back to Desdemona.
The woman's face softened, and she sighed. "You're not exactly... in peak condition, right now, and neither is your family. I think, as your boss and your friend, that it's best if you... take a few months off."
Tommy deflated like a balloon, creasing her brows as her heartbeat picked up rapidly. "What? No. I… I can't."
"I didn't ask, Tommy. We can't risk losing anyone right now," She explained, silently shifting her weight on her feet. "As you can probably tell, we've been talking with your friends from Goodneighbor. We heard about you showing up there half dead.”
Tommy grimaced.
The woman glanced at Carrington, and the two shared a look. “And we think it's important that you and the rest of the Atom Cats have someone here until you and Zeke are in a better condition to protect yourselves."
Tommy screwed up her face with nearly tangible offense. "What are you talking about? We don't need a babysitter! We can handle ourselves, and I can work!" She threw her hands up and eyed Desdemona sharply. She felt Drummer Boy’s hand land on her shoulder from behind, and she shrugged it off. "Please, Des."
"Don't worry. Nate and Deacon can pick up all of your slack without a hitch.”
Of course it was Nate who’d be taking her jobs. Nate that’d be going to Ticon, Nate that’d be spending time with H2, Nate that’d be by Leo’s side, Nate, Nate, Nate.
Tommy stepped forward and crossed her arms, a wave of anger and frustration bubbling up inside of her. "No, I can do it.”
"Tommy-"
"You just want to do this because Nate is your favorite person in the-"
"Tommy-"
"-entire universe, and I don't care if he can survive a jump off of the mass fusion tower, he-"
"Tommy-"
"-is probably working behind our backs anyways. He's never even at work unless he’s coming in to sweet talk you! He's probably the reason this happened in the first place-"
"Tommy!"
She finally silenced when Desdemona gave her the glare of a lifetime. The teen's eyes were watering now, and she was practically begging her boss with her absolutely defeated expression. "Please, Des. This is what I'm meant to do. I can’t just stop.”
"I'm not asking you to stop, I’m asking you to rest. Your survival comes before work. If you show up anytime in the next couple of months, I'll have you escorted out," Desdemona explained harshly. "I can't pretend I haven't seen your decline since Nate arrived. You're sloppy, slower, and getting drunk in the middle of work hours is unacceptable no matter how many times Deacon lies for you. And dragging Drummer Boy into it? Unacceptable. You just need some time off. Breathe, gather yourself, rest, and then come back the same as you were before he got here. Okay? In two months.”
The teenager merely stared at her boss, eyes shining with tears that threatened to spill. The Railroad was Tommy’s life, what gave her meaning, and Desdemona was taking it away like a child’s toy when they get in trouble?
"What am I supposed to do?" She whispered.
The woman placed her hand on Tommy’s shoulder with a reassuring, pitiful smile. "Heal."
Tommy said nothing, instead, wiped at her eyes with Drummer Boy’s sleeve.
"I've hired Mayor Hancock's Mercenary friend to stay around the garage until you're in a good condition to come back. If you leave, he goes with you. I intend to get my money's worth out of him, is that clear, Tommy?"
The girl looked down at the floor, sniffing. "Crystal."
"Good. Carrington, Drummer Boy and I are heading back to the city. Make sure to let us know if you need anything. Tom has your frequency locked on a radio so we can use it as a two way if you need."
Tommy nodded numbly as Desdemona and Carrington turned, starting out of the garage.
“Hey, I’ll see you,” Drummer Boy stated, drifting out in front of her. He gently placed a hand on her arm and rubbed it. His light blue eyes stayed locked on her, pity shining in his irises until she forced herself to look away. She hated being pitied.
“I’ll see you,” She replied, shrugging his jacket off her shoulders. He held his hand up.
“Keep it. I don’t need it,”
With a faint, fake smile, she pulled it back over her shoulders. “Thanks.”
"’Course," He replied, turning to follow behind Desdemona. She sighed, arms crossed over her chest as she watched them trail away from the Garage without her. The group of people from Goodneighbor took notice and started making their way inside.
Tommy turned with a sigh, walking over to Bluejay’s bar and propping up on it, sharing quiet greetings and words of encouragement with her fellow Cats. She really didn’t want to talk to anyone else right now. In fact, the one person she really wanted to talk to… was in a coma.
"Guess who was right?" There was a sudden nudge on Tommy's shoulder, and when she turned, Daisy was there with a smug smirk on her face.
"Shut up, Daisy."
“Hey, you can’t deny that I told you so,” The ghoul chuckled. "Speaking of, Hancock’s Mercenary friend’s name is MacCready. The help you so kindly declined in Goodneighbor." Daisy pointed through the door out into the parking lot, where the ghoul in a pirate costume, the girl with the red hair, Amari, and the so-called angry-looking man-child stood.
"Which one?"
"The short one,"
He seemed to hear this, because the short one in green sent Daisy a glare. She waved him over, and he sighed, approaching without any arguments.
He looked… more like a dude than a man. He was a little taller than Tommy -- only a little -- with a tan duster, army green clothes, and a sniper rifle thrown over his shoulder. He had a green army cap on his head that had bullets on the strap, that reminded Tommy way too much of her police cap. Where was that thing, anyways? His eyes were light icy blue, shielded by the bill of his cap, and he looked kind of like… a mouse, or something. The hair peeking out of his hat was a mixture of brown and ginger. He looked like... like someone who lived out in the dumps alone. Much like everyone who lived in Goodneighbor.
He didn’t say anything upon his approach, nor did he make any sort of readable expression.
"And those are Hancock and Fahrenheit, Mayor of Goodneighbor and his Bodyguard. He's the one who heard you on the radio," Daisy explained, pointing across the area at them.
Upon hearing their names, the ghoul man and red-haired woman approached, falling in line in front of Tommy with the Mercenary. Amari followed behind. Fahrenheit had on armor and had one side of her head shaved. An impressive amount of weapons were strapped to every available part of her clothing. The ghoul, on the other hand, had on a long red coat and tri-corner hat like some old pre-war patriot, an American flag wrapped around his waist.
"Glad you made it out, Sunshine," He said, holding out his hand. "John Hancock. Mayor of Goodneighbor."
The teenager took his wrinkled hand and shook it. "Tommy."
"We're going to be heading out soon. Is there anything you need before we go?" Daisy questioned, looking back and forth between Tommy and MacCready. Tommy shrugged.
"Something to keep me occupied for the next couple of months would do some good," She stated sarcastically, un-crossing her arms and dragging her shoe in the dirt below them.
"I heard from some of your friends here you're really into tech and building. I can have a caravan bring you some scrap every now and then — I've got people running all over creation for little ol' me," Daisy suggested with a sly wink.
Tommy was caught off guard, and spent a moment blinking. "Wait, are you serious?"
"As long as you pay a shipping fee, I can have you so many scrap parts you won't be able to breathe,"
The teenager smiled lightly, nodding. "Okay, deal. I need to scrounge up some kind of security for this place anyways."
"You got it, darlin'," The ghoul smiled, patting Tommy’s back. "We're headin' off. Keep an eye on this one, okay? He's unpredictable," Daisy nudged MacCready with her elbow, and Tommy chuckled lightly. MacCready didn’t have much of a response.
"Can do, Daisy," She replied, glancing at the mercenary. He didn’t look at her.
After they shared goodbyes, Tommy watched the two ghouls and a bodyguard fade off into the distance, leaving their man-child behind. She sighed.
This was going to be the longest hiatus of her life.
—
#the railroad#railroad#fo4 hancock#fallout four#fo4#fallout oc#fallout four oc#fo4 maccready#rj maccready#maccready#maccready x oc#oc; tommy#mb; before us#mayor hancock#john hancock#john hancock fo4#hancock#desdemona#drummer boy#daisy fallout 4#atom cats
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Made in 2022 + 2023
If you’ve seen this anywhere else, I posted it back on my deviantArt when it was made.
Mario girls cosplaying as characters from Simsala Grimm
1 - 4. Princess Alina
5. Princess Faramund (Fake Alina)
6 - 8. Princess (The Drummer)
9. Princess Aurelia
10. Princess Elisabeth
#simsala grimm#the two princesses#princess alina#princess faramund#the drummer#princess aurelia#faithful john#princess elisabeth#the brave little tailor#princess peach#peach#mayor pauline#pauline
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On April 6th April 1998 the celebration of Tartan Day was approved by the US Senate
The day is in recognition of the monumental achievements and invaluable contributions made by Scottish Americans.
The annual Tartan Day Parade in New York has now grown into what is known as Scotland Week. Led by a Grand Marshal, the parade will bring together pipers and drummers from all over the world. This year's honorary Grand Marshal is Dougray Scott
Past marshals have include Sir Sean Connery, Scots-born actors Brian Cox, Kevin McKidd, Alan Cumming and Sam Heughan, and former New York City Mayor, Michael Bloomberg.
Over the years Tartan "Day" expanded into a week-long programme of events promoting Scotland in North America, apart from Haggis, because it's still banned in the US!
You can still get a taste of the Tartan Day celebrations as there are virtual events happening, find the details below, with a new app you can download.
https://www.nyctartanweek.org/
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Music of the Revolutionary Century: the Rogue's March
"We have a short way with mutineers, sir. We hanged all we could lay our hands on; ran ‘em up the yardarm directly, with the Rogue‘s March playing..." – Captain Jack Aubrey, in HMS Surprise by Patrick O'Brian
A fun tune this is, only because of its ironic air. I found this 1781 print, labelled "A Visit to Camp or the Rogues March" and subtitled "To T. Lamb Esq. Mayor of Rye, on being, what they call, Drumm'd out of Camp by the Sixth Regiment of Foot." We're not quite sure what this T. Lamb did to warrant his drumming-out, but upon seeing it I thought it was due time that I covered this tune, if only because of its popularity and its reflection of the borderline humorous traditions of the 18th century (though not entirely unreasonable ones).
The Rogue's March had a specific usage throughout the 18th century British (and Continental, seeing as they tended to adopt most of the same tunes) military as the tune to which offenders were drummed out of camp. The process of this was intended essentially to humiliate said offender as deeply as possible in that classic, over-the-top 18th-century style, and this period print illustrates several of the traditions: the person in question would be paraded along the regimental formation and out of the camp, all the while marching on to the Rogue's March, played by as many drummers and fifers as were available in order to make the spectacle all the more memorable. As if that wasn't enough, generally the offender's coat would be turned and worn inside out as a sign of disgrace, and some regiments were not above "the final disgrace of a farewell ritual kick from the regiment's youngest drummer," seen here in the front of the formation at half the size of his compatriots, presumably preparing to make his move...
There were, too, unofficial lyrics to this tune, probably for a drinking song, which would duly reflect the mood of the offender's resentment:
Fifty [lashes] I got for selling me coat,
Fifty for selling me blanket.
If ever I 'lists for a sodger again,
The Divil shall be me sergeant.
Poor old sodger, poor old sodger...
This is undoubtedly one of the more well-known military tunes of the period, referenced in many pieces of media set during the long 18th century, including (as seen above) in the Aubrey-Maturin series and evidently in the TV show Sharpe. You can find many versions of this tune but I've chosen this specific fife-and-drum version because I think it was intended to convey the scene we see in the print above: it is slow, deliberate, almost stately, in a deeply ironic way. You can imagine the feeling of shame it might bring to have your march from camp extended by the musicians' excruciatingly unhurried tempo.
youtube
As for the musical side of things, I have to say this is probably the only 18th century field tune I've personally seen that relies so heavily on this syncopated triplet rhythm. There are versions that substitute them for plain old eighths, but I find them so much less fun. If anything I feel like that amusing little rhythmic swing upward just makes the cheerful tone of this one all the more ironic.
#music#field music#folk music#music of the revolutionary century#amrev#revwar#american revolution#revolutionary war#british military#military history#18thc#18th century#aubreyad#sharpe#redcoatposting#Youtube#the captain's lectures#awi
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BUT YEARS PASS AND I LOVE YOU THE SAME (part I/II)
Summary: Back in 1986, Y/n broke Eddie's trust and heart. He's on top of the world now, his dreams are coming true, and yet he can't help but wish things had been slightly different. A letter serves him as an excuse to aim for a second chance.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Genre: mostly angst
Tags:
Requested by: @attinaadellaalana @eddiemunsonsluvrrr
Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads
Warnings: language, alcohol, let me know if i miss anything
A/N: indulging y'all AND myself so I can write Rockstar!Eddie bc that's what he deserves. Part 2 to the awfully angsty fic I wrote because my best friend made me fix it. Lots of pov jumps but it's necessary bc you need to see BOTH SIDES. Next part will be *spicy* so beware. Okay that's all, enjoy <3
Prequel: Liar. Traitor. Backstabber.
Sequel: but years pass and I love you the same (II/II)
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
October 10, 1990, NYC
Knockknockknockknockknock!
Ding-dong!
"Oh, Jesus Christ—" a gutural, tortured groan escaped my lungs at the piercing sound of someone knocking on the hotel suite's door, both my hands instinctively pressing the pillow to my ears in an attempt to muffle the piercing noise. "Gareth, get the fucking door!"
"You get the fucking door!" The drummer snapped back from somewhere on the bathroom floor.
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
"I'm coming! Hold up! Goddamnit..." After untangling myself from both ridiculously expensive bedsheets and the limbs of some random groupie that ended up joining us after our last show, I made my way to the entrance.
The corridor's light was too bright for my hungover state, I thought after opening the door, shielding my eyes with my forearm.
"Mr. Munson—"
"Shit no, nonono." I waved a hand at our manager's assistant at the sight of an envelope. "No fan mail the morning after the concert, man. Can't think straight, let alone read."
"It's not fan mail, it's— it's from Hawkins, Indiana." It took my lethargic brain a moment too long to process the words. "Marla said you'd like to—"
Sobered up in a matter of seconds, I snatched the letter away from the assistant's unsure hands. My feet carried my tuned out self back into the suite while I ripped it open, my palm searching in the dark behind me to switch on the lights —to everyone's dismay— so I could read it.
I felt my heart sinking with discontent once my eyes skimmed the text.
'Dear Edward Munson,
Congratulations on your first World Tour. I write to you in hopes that you and your band may be able to revisit your hometown and play at Hawkins High School's football field on the 27th of October. All the money will be donated to blah blah blah...'
It was hilarious. Hawkins's mayor asking us to come back and help that damn town. A part of me wanted to go for shits and giggles. Definitely not because I missed the girl that ruined me.
Yeah, shits and giggles. That's what pushed me to postpone the last two concerts of the tour.
October 20, 1990, Hawkins
READER'S P. O. V.
"Soooo did you hear?"
I sighed, not bothering to peel off my furrowed gaze from the filing cabinet full of students' records I had just finished reorganizing to stare at the hyperenergized Robin that had just burst into my office.
'Did you hear?'; if only I had a penny for every time I had, in fact, heard that week...
"I don't know, Robin. Probably just like ten fucking times today." I retorted with venomous sarcasm as I spun around to grab my bag from my chair.
"Way to talk to the woman who's kindly driving you home." She quipped, toying with her car keys while we exited the room.
"Sorry, okay? I just..." I pursed my lips, taking a moment while I locked the office to think. "I'm glad he's back. I'm glad you guys get to see him. I just don't wanna hear anything about it." I adjusted the strap of my back on my shoulder, following Robin's lead to the parking lot. "It's bad enough having to partake in the welcoming committee bullshit."
"What exactly happened between you two anyway?" She questioned, electric blue eyes squinted at me. "Like, was it thaaat bad? It's been four years and you're still pressed."
"Told you it was a bad break up— Listen," I halted my steps to turn to Robin with pleading eyes. "can we not talk about it?" After a moment of hesitation, she gave me a quick nod. "With any luck, I'll just meet him before the concert and then we'll part ways again."
With any luck. Ha. As if a part of me didn't ache to see him again, to talk to him, to touch him, to feel him; as if my heart hadn't momentarily stopped beating when Hawkins High staff was informed that they would have to be preparing the football field for a Corroded Coffin fundraising show.
October 26, 1990, Hawkins
EDDIE'S P. O. V.
"Okay— Y'know what? Just fucking drop me here." I scowled, flinging the van's door open before our chauffeur got the chance to pump the breaks.
"Eddie, c'mon! Really?" Jeff called in disbelief, though he didn't bother on trying to stop me when I jumped off the vehicle and shut its door.
The road to our hometown hadn't been the best time for the band; constant arguing and clapbacks were commonplace since our plane had landed in Indianapolis. The closer we were to Hawkins, the worse it got.
Maybe this wasn't a good idea.
I lit myself a cigarette while my feet carried me through the forest, shortening the route to Hawkins.
First thing I passed by was the cemetery.
Before boarding the plane, I made a mental note of the people I wanted to visit after the show —given that we would stay three days—, but I was already there. I found myself walking to Chrissy's grave even before I fully decided on it.
Seeing the sweet cheerleader's headstone was what it took for me to realize how much of a mistake coming back had been.
Fuck this town, they don't deserve you.
It almost sounded like Y/n. Almost, because it had been a bit too long since I heard her voice.
As soon as I had walked into the graveyard, I was out, absentmindedly resuming my walk to the trailer park —except, I didn't really go to the trailer park. No, I took the long way, which forced me to cross a thankfully not very crowded Hawkins High parking lot. Due to the time of the day, only the staff's cars remained parked, and even them were beginning to drive away.
I wasn't ready to see her —not yet—, but the universe had always had a funny way of twisting my wishes, so there she was, crossing the highschool doorway with a ginger I recognized as Robin's girl.
God, I hated her. I hated the way my heart raced at the mere sight of her. I hated how she made my breath hitch and my feet freeze because she looked as breathtaking as ever, even when her small smile was feigned and her shoulders were slightly slumped.
She was sad. Good.
And then she bid the redhead goodbye to join a slim man with a sunny disposition, and her fake smile grew into more of a content beam while the two walked to a shared car, laughing. He placed his hand on the small of her back and I felt the urge to look away.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I turned heel and left. A part of me expected her to... What? Wait for me? but why? I had been the one to cut contact for good, I had been the one to leave her —us— behind, and yet I had hoped for Y/n to welcome me with open arms. I had always been fucking stupid when it came to her.
Naturally, after leaving the parking lot, I came across Motel 6. The memories I had there didn't help the ache of my still broken heart.
Why did I have to miss her so much?
Tears prickled my eyes at the memory of our last night together, leaning in silence on that rusty railing while we prorogued our final goodbye.
The chilly Autumn Sun had set behind Hawkins' treetops by the time I arrived at the trailer park. It felt odd to be back.
It felt even odder when my uncle, who I anticipated to be working at the plant on a Friday evening, opened the our trailer's door and engulfed me in a hug.
The little 'Welcome home, Eddie' he whispered into the embrace was what pushed me over the edge; without warning, I was crying on his shoulder, cradling his flannel shirt like I was a lost twelve year old kid all over again.
October 27, 1990, Hawkins
READER'S P. O. V.
Friday had been torture. Saturday was a blur —at least until the principal walked the empty highschool halls with mayor Phillips, a brunette woman in her early forties, a couple of bodyguards, and the members of the band.
Although years hadn't changed them, they seemed different; stylish, successful, important. Eddie led the group, chitchatting with both their manager and the mayor, one of his hands gesticulating animatedly while the other remained on the guitar strap crossing his chest.
Fuck, he looked good. He looked so good.
"—And this is the kind personnel that will show you around." The principal's voice mentioning our names to the band brought me back to reality. "This is Marla Hammerstein, Corroded Coffin's manager."
There was a round of polite 'nice to meet you's while Marla shook everyone's hands that didn't quite reach my ears, and those big brown eyes were to blame —those deep dark irises, flooded with sadness and something more, that found my own like magnets.
Soon enough, the band members were being led to the football field, as if they hadn't spent their school years wandering those same halls.
"—Yup, right there," Vikkie animatedly bobbed her head at Marla, pointing at the bathroom we had set for the performers before making us all come to a stop in front of what was the drama club, unlatching the door to show our guests the inside. "and we improvised a little greenroom in here because—"
"Wait, here?" My breath got caught up in my throat when I felt Eddie's chest against my back, his ring clad hand coming to rest at the doorframe, right by my face. "Huh."
"Yup, why?"
I felt his ribs thrum with an amused laugh, as he subtly bent forward into me. "Nothing, I just think everything 'bout this is fucking hilarious. Right, Ms. Y/l/n?" I gulped at his bitter inquiry, muttering a quiet 'right' as a reply. "Alright, let's get this over with, shall we?" He breathed out near my ear, pushing himself back with the help of his supporting palm, triggering an involuntary whine out of me at the lost of touch.
Something told me Eddie was purposefully torturing me —that something being how he stayed glued to my back, constantly hovering over my form while spitting scathing remarks that could be easily masked as dry humor. It was as if he himself didn't know how to feel about having me around again.
A part of me was genuinely happy when the show began, because that meant I was allowed to leave.
Had things been slightly different, I would be standing in the front row, headbanging to Corroded Coffin's agressive music led by Eddie's beautiful voice, but that's just not how it was, so instead of screaming the lyrics in the crowd, I found myself driving home. Then, maybe, I would walk to a bar in hopes of drinking my pain away.
For better or for worse, I didn't give much thought to which would be the bar in particular.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
EDDIE'S P. O. V.
Saying I was sharp-tempered after the show would be an understatement. I myself could barely put up with my behavior, so hanging out with the band would have been selfish at the very least.
That's why, for the first time in forever, I didn't stick with them after a gig, choosing to fly on my own and search for a quiet place to have a drink.
And what could be quieter and more fitting for my visit than the least frequented bar in Hawkins —the same bar where we had started playing?
The Hideout wasn't what it used to be. It was surprisingly crowded, and had a refreshed, more expensive vibe to it; Guns N' Roses was playing in the background while people danced in the middle of the establishment. As I got closer to the bar counter, I saw a framed picture of us hanging on the wall with a little inscription below; 'where Corroded Coffin was born'.
"Pffft." I snorted, propping my forearms on the wooden surface. "That's cute. Hey Al!" I called for the bartender with a cheeky grin, enjoying his shock at the sight of me. "Would you be so kind to get me a good ol' beer?"
"Anything for you, Eddie."
"Put it on my tab, Al." My blood ran cold at Y/n's listless voice coming from my left.
After a very much needed minute to compose myself and not look like a fucking deer caught in headlights, I turned my head to the girl, who gave me a small, almost timid wave. I nodded in her direction as a response before returning my attention to the bartender, who was currently serving me the drink.
"How was the show?"
"You didn't stay?" I tried not to sound upset about it, but given Y/n's sorry eyes, I didn't do a very good job.
"Thought you wouldn't want me there." She was half lying, I could see it in the way she averted her eyes from me to stare at her glass, almost empty, sitting in front of her.
"It was okay, I think." I chose to respond to her question, rather than delve into her last sentence. "Very surreal, though. You know, playing in Hawkins, it's just- it's just awkward? I mean,"
Oh no. I felt something coming that hadn't happened to me in years; anxiety fueled word vomit.
"Half of them were chasing me with pitchforks and torches just a couple of years ago. You know Andy? Andy from basketball team? Andy the fucking asshole who tried to beat me up with a crowbar? He came after the show to tell me our songs rocked." I breathed out a nervous laugh, riping a half smile from Y/n, one that my eyes could barely catch due to her temple resting on her right knuckles.
"That's one bizarre experience." She commented, twirling her drink.
"Speaking of bizarre," I scooted to the left, telling myself it was to avoid nosey ears and not to be closer to her. "how's... work?"
Y/n clicked her tongue. "Can't tell you."
"So you're still active." The girl subtly nodded, finally dropping her right hand and allowing me to see her gaze, mildly illuminated by the neon lights in the establishment. "I see you kept your job at the counseling department."
"Ms Kelley was transferred, so I actually got promoted." She clarified, taking a sip of her drink.
"That's great." I stated, searching for a topic to hold onto. Counseling. Highschool. Highschoolers. Got it. "I saw, uhh, Max Mayfield yesterday. She's so grown, what the fuck."
Y/n snorted. "Have you seen Dustin and the others?"
"Not yet."
"They're like... Little men. Not so little." Y/n scrunched her nose, gaze fixed on the bottles displayed before us while she probably pictured the party. "They make me feel old."
I couldn't help but snicker at the dramatism of the statement. "They make you feel old, at the blooming age of 24—"
"25." She corrected me, finally meeting my eyes with a tight-lipped smile.
I stayed silent for a hot second, time hitting me like a heavy rock. "25. Forgot your birthday was last week."
"I wasn't expecting you to remember." Although she tried to mask it as a joke, I caught on the sincerity of her words. "Rockstar duties and all, must be hard to keep track of mundane things."
"Nothing 'bout you is mundane." I blurted out before my mind could stop my mouth. Catching her gaze was a losing game, I found out, so I moved a bit closer until our thighs were brushing and nudged her. "Except your taste in music."
"Ouch! That's a low blow." She complained, taking a hand to her chest before looking up at me once more. "You love Blondie thanks to me."
"I never said I loved Blondie."
"Yes you did!"
"Well I only said I loved Blondie 'cause I lov—"
Stop. The open smile that had so beautifully graced her face for a few seconds was substituted by the same scared expression that twisted mine.
I gulped, choosing to look away and take a long swig of my beer.
"Are you seeing someone?" I couldn't find it in me to meet her furrowed visage after asking the question. "I'm just asking 'cause yesterday I spotted you at the parking lot. Kinda wanted to go say hi but, uhm, you weren't alone."
"Meh." Y/n, whose upper body had leant over the counter in hopes to face me, retreated to her original position. "His name's Carl."
"Okay." Okay. I lost my chance. Great.
"He's from work."
"From which work?"
"The boring one." She joked, trying to defuse the renewed tension among us. "He's a stand-in science teacher in middle school."
"So he's just a boooring nerd." I let waved my fingers before our eyes, trying and failing to make my comment sound funny and not resentful.
"Not everyone can date a rockstar." She chuckled, and for some reason that fueled my rancour.
"You could've, but you had to fuck it up."
Silence. She stared at me for a long second with unreadable eyes that made me internally squirm.
"Okay. I'm just..." Gonna go. Instead of completing the sentence, she grabbed her wallet and slid a couple of bills to Al before standing up.
"Wait!" Spinning around fast enough to give myself whiplash, I took a hold of the hem of Y/n's jacket. "Wait. I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. I just—" I huffed, letting go of her bomber to run my fingers through my locks. "It's a lot."
"What's a lot?"
"You. This. I don't know!" My voice turned high pitched, hands raised in surrender.
There was a silence between us, filled with the sound of intoxicated people laughing and some Iron Maiden song.
"You shouldn't have come back, Eddie. You seem lost here." There was pain in her voice and a sad gloss on her eyes. "I'm going home now."
My fingers immediately wrapped around her wrist, not quite enclosing it. "Let me drive you?" She pondered her options with pursed lips, averting her gaze when I took a step closer and leaned on. "Please."
Her palm came up to rest on my chest and by God I died. "I don't wanna ruin your night."
"Yeah, cause I was having a blast until now." I managed to joke, trying my best keep at bay the need to kiss her. "I'll just drop you off and leave."
"Alright." A sigh of defeat escaped her parted lips, eyes fixed on her fingers, toying with a loose thread belonging to my vest. "C'mon, rockstar." She whispered, dragging her digits down my chest to my upper abdomen to interlace them with my own, her eyes flickering at my face through her lashes before leading me out.
READER'S P. O. V.
The ride was quiet, yes, but not at all comfortable. I was constantly shifting on the passenger's seat, doing anything and everything to avoid looking at Eddie, who gripped the steering wheel in an attempt to ground himself.
"Here." I broke the stifling silence when we were about to drive past my house, just in time for Eddie to pull up right before it.
"So you're a true Hawkins citizen now." Eddie commented at the sight of my new home. "Suburban house and all."
"Gotta play and look the part."
"Right. Uhm—"
"Thanks for the ride." I cursed myself for cutting him off, but there was little I could do to stop my mouth from running loose out of anxiety.
"Yeah, no worries."
Just get out of the car, I ordered myself. Don't look at him, just get out.
But I looked at him. I looked at the way his body fell on the backrest, eyes fixed on the boring road and tongue trapped between his lips; one of his hands still held onto the steering wheel for dear life while the other's fingertips drummed on his thigh, shaky due to the anxious tapping of his foot.
The scene looked very reminiscing of that first night he had driven me to the motel, back in December of '86. We had stayed still in his beat up van for what felt like an eternity, waiting in an anticipating silence begging to be broken until I had invited him into the room.
That moment was all too familiar —too tempting. And he looked way too beautiful after way too much time apart from each other. Seeing him in TV shredding his guitar, shouting the lyrics of his songs, had nothing on sitting by his side again.
His cautious eyes hesitated for a split second before daring to meet mine. I knew then that Eddie wouldn't be driving off, not that night.
"Wanna..." I cleared my throat, pointing at the front door of my new house. "Wanna come in?"
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x oc#eddie x reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson masterlist#eddie x y/n#rockstar!eddie#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fix it#stranger things angst#eddie munson smut#joseph quinn#st eddie munson
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Marcus Miller - Tutu Revisited - LIVE
Marcus Miller - Tutu Revisited "Tutu" (86) ha sido uno de los álbumes de mayor éxito firmado por Miles Davis para la Warner. Lo curioso, en cuanto a los prolegómenos del álbum se refiere, es que iba a ser una colaboración del gran trompetista y mito del jazz con Prince, pero Miles abandonó la idea y llamó al bajista y productor Marcus Miller para que éste fuese su compañero de proyecto, el músico que compusiera y arreglase la mayor parte del repertorio y quien coprodujera el trabajo junto a Tommy Lipuma. Su título es un tributo a la figura del arzobispo Desmond Tutu y el álbum está orientado hacia la fusión del jazz con otros estilos predominantes a mediados de los 80' (r&b y funk, principalmente), utilizando sintetizadores, secuenciadores y batería eléctrica. Veintitrés años después de su primera versión, Marcus decidió revisar el que ha sido uno de sus proyectos más valorados, para rescatar su esencia y plasmarla en un contexto actual. La grabación se realizó en el Auditorio de Lyon, el 22 de diciembre de 2009. Para su consecución, Miller llamó al trompetista Christian Scott, un músico de Nueva Orleans que, con cuatro discos en el mercado, representa el futuro del jazz sobre las sólidas estructuras que en el pasado han dejado músicos como Miles Davis. Siguiendo con el apartado de colaboradores, destacar la presencia de Ronald Brunner Jr., el explosivo baterista que hemos escuchado en el pasado más reciente acompañando a músicos como Stanley Clarke o George Duke. En los teclados y procedente del grupo de Meshell Ndegeocello, Federico González Peña, al saxo Alex Han, descubierto por el propio Marcus en el Berklee College y como bajista y clarinetista el propio Marcus. Con todo lujo de detalles y, al margen de los dos CD's de audio, incluye en video aquel concierto de más de dos horas, así como un documental dedicado a Miles Davis.
FUENTE: Blues y Jazz
*************************************************************************
"Tutu" (86) has been one of the most successful albums signed by Miles Davis for Warner. The funny thing, as far as the album’s prolegomenous are concerned, is that it was going to be a collaboration of the great trumpeter and jazz myth with Prince, but Miles abandoned the idea and called the bassist and producer Marcus Miller to be his project partner, the musician who composed and arranged most of the repertoire and who co-produced the work with Tommy Lipuma. Its title is a tribute to the figure of Archbishop Desmond Tutu and the album is oriented towards the fusion of jazz with other predominant styles in the mid 80’s (r&b and funk, mainly), using synthesizers, sequencers and electric drums.
Twenty-three years after its first version, Marcus decided to review what has been one of his most valued projects, to rescue its essence and reflect it in a current context.
The recording was made at the Auditorium of Lyon on 22 December 2009.
Miller called trumpeter Christian Scott, a musician from New Orleans who, with four albums on the market, represents the future of jazz on the solid structures that in the past have left musicians like Miles Davis. Continuing with the collaborators section, highlight the presence of Ronald Brunner Jr., the explosive drummer we have heard in the most recent past accompanying musicians such as Stanley Clarke or George Duke. On keyboards and coming from the group of Meshell Ndegeocello, Federico González Peña, saxophone Alex Han, discovered by Marcus himself at Berklee College and as bass player and clarinettist Marcus himself. With all luxury of details and, apart from the two audio CDs, includes in video that concert of more than two hours, as well as a documentary dedicated to Miles Davis
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imagine my face when having coffee with the mayor and he tells me he was a snare drummer in small times
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Day 5 walking done, arrived in Viana do Costelo around 2:30, 13 km today. The first pic is us leaving “the compound” where our hotel was located! Mostly inland today, lots of cobblestone walkways, which are fast becoming my least favourite,,🤫🤫🤫🤫but this Europe.
We were about half way today going through the village of Ahna and we heard a marching band. It was hard to fight the urge not to start marching along with the snare drummers cadence. When we were passing the mayors house, I tried to order Elfie to do an “ eyes right” but she had no idea what I was doing……although she insists she did. I assure that Private Benjamin had no idea!! My apologies to my non-military/veteran friends who have no idea what I’m talking about.
Decided to take a couple pics of our walking path…and the last pic is from the trail as we were approaching Viana today.
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The custom Uberhood - Emerald Heights
Round 1: Mon - Tue
Emerald Heights used to be all green once. It was a nice garden town.
But then something has changed Emerald Heights forever! It dried out all of sudden and became a wasteland. But then the highway was lain down and Emerald Heights became a busting desert city as it is today!
With so many sims moving in and so many changes going on in such a short time frame, what will Emerald Heights become next?
We start our story in the wealthy part of town around Old Cedar Lane, City Park Street and Harbor Drive. The time-honored family of the Rotspatzes live here since three generations with the fourth just about the find their places in life.
Rotspatz I:
It was the Rotspatz family that settled in first in Emerald Heights. They witnessed the development of Emerald Heights, but they have never really been pleased with the results. Esmee and Desiree are still determined to do everything they can, just to save Emerald Heights and make it a nice green garden town again, just as it was before everyone moved in. But with such a mayor like Caesar Rafferty, will they be able to do anything at all?
Esmee wants her daughter to be a witch, just like her and the rest of the family and pass her witch power onto her descendants. One day, she will use her ancestors' power to save Emerald Heights from that unfair mayor. They might not be able to change Emerald Heights into a green garden town, but she doesn't want to give up for some reason...
Esmee Rotspatz:
female, elder, witch
Family/Knowledge (Become Captain Hero)
Pisces (5/10/8/10/0)
unemployed, OTH Games
Traits: Charismatic, Absent-minded, Lucky, Family-oriented, Supernatural Fan
Desiree would do everything to see that Mr. Caesar Rafferty going down. He ruined Desiree's life. And Desiree's determined to take revenge. She's got a plan but she's waiting for the time to come...
Desiree Rotspatz:
female, elder, witch
Fortune/Knowledge (Earn §100 000)
Pisces (5/10/8/10/0)
unemployed, OTH Games
Traits: Good sense of Humor, Can't stand Art, Geek, Ambitious, Computer Whiz
Elvira sometimes feels neglected by her mother and aunt. Elvira sometimes wants to escape from them and live at her cousin's house - just like Isaiah. But for some reason, Esmee and Desiree don't allow that. What's going on in their minds? Only Katelyna seems to be normal in this house...
Elvira Rotspatz:
female, child, Sim
Grow up
Capricon (10/2/1/10/10)
Private School, OTH Cuisine
Traits: Clumsy, Cheerful, Vegetarian
Katelyna wonders who her father really is or was... But nobody wants to tell her anything about her dad. But one day, she'll find her dad! She's determined to.
Katelyna Rotspatz:
female, adult, witch
Romance/Popularity (Become Celebrity Chef)
Aries (8/10/8/0/0)
Medicine Career, OTH Music and Dance
Traits: Social Butterfly, Can't stand Art, Drummer, Romantic, Cat Lover
Challenges Rolled for
- round: Write a novel: You've been hit by the writing muse and are itching to start a novel. Write d2 novels and see what the publishers think of your new talent.
- season: Regular Season: Nothing Major Happens
- week: Regular Week: Nothing Major Happens
-> Esmee will be the one to write the two books.
#the sims 2#the custom uberhood#emerald heights#rotspatz i family#esmee rotspatz#desiree rotspatz#elvira rotspatz#katelyna rotspatz#round 1#introduction post
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When I meet people I should really stop autistically flapping about stickers and Ricoh photocopiers and my plans to turn piedmont into a "Zone Of Exclusion" when I become the mayor after an armed coup. It doesn't jive well with my plans to stay unseen and offline. Anyways. I'm working on a design that says "fuckboy dyke // femboy faggot" with a cute lil 16 bit goth unicorn girl in the middle
Wait....Piedmont...we DID meet didn't we?? At that one drummer tops house? O.O you were chilling in the other room while we were being degens??
Also legit as a goth fuckboy dyke I NEED that sticker....
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PJO DAY ONE
New updates!
This is it, demigods! Here in Vancouver, we have all hands on deck for the first day of filming on Percy Jackson and the Olympians. The excitement is so thick you could cut it with a celestial bronze ballpoint pen!
Even more cause for celebration: let me introduce you to some of our incredible adult cast members you will meet in the first couple of episodes, listed in alphabetic order.
VIRGINIA KULL - SALLY JACKSON
From Austin, Texas, Virginia Kull has appeared in Boardwalk Empire, Big Little Lies, Mr. Mercedes and NOS4A2, among many other films and shows. Originally, she planned to be a doctor, but fortunately for all of us, she decided to pursue acting instead! Her combination of strength, humor and heart makes her just the Sally Jackson we need. In the table read for episode 101, her performance moved us to tears.
JASON MANTZOUKAS - MR. D
Hailing from Nahant, MA, Jason has decades of experience in movies and television, having showcased his dramatic and comedic skills in shows like Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Parks and Recreation, The League, The Good Place, Big Mouth and Invincible. Self-described as “100% Greek,” Jason is the perfect guy to inhabit everyone’s favorite grumpy wine god and head of camp, Dionysus. He’s also an accomplished jazz drummer!
MEGAN MULLALLY - MRS DODDS
Originally from Los Angeles, Megan rose to fame playing Karen Walker on Will & Grace, for which she won three Screen Actors Guild awards and received four Golden Globe nominations. She has appeared in dozen of films, and has brought her talents to such TV series as The Great North, Parks and Recreation, and 30 Rock. She is also the voice of Gayle in Bob’s Burgers.
GLYNN TERMAN - MR BRUNNER
Where to even start with Glynn’s legendary career? One of his first stage roles was at the age of twelve, when he appeared alongside Sidney Poitier and Ruby Dee in the original Broadway production of Lorraine Hansberry’s A Raisin in the Sun. Since then, he’s had such notable TV roles as Mayor Clarence V. Royce on The Wire, Jeremiah Kaan in House of Lies, and Doctor Senator in Fargo, winning many awards and accolades along the way. He also starred in the feature Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom with Viola Davis and Chadwick Boseman. Not only is he a multitalented actor, Glynn is also a champion rodeo cowboy who has run Camp Gid D Up in Southern California since 1992 to introduce inner city and at-risk youth to horsemanship at a working ranch. In other words, he is the perfect Chiron, the immortal centaur and trainer of heroes at Camp Half-Blood.
TIMM SHARP - GABE UGLIANO
Hailing from Fargo, North Dakota, Timm has been a TV series regular on Blunt Talk, Undeclared, Enlightened, Briarpatch and Six Feet Under. Over the past twenty years, he has appeared in dozens of films and shows from Fun with Dick and Jane to It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, and is also active in the Los Angeles improv comedy community. Timm had us laughing out loud with his take on Gabe Ugliano, and we can’t wait to see him play stepdad to Walker Scobell’s Percy Jackson!
More to come, demigods! Look for another post from me next week, when I will share a few more inside scoops about how filming is going. Further casting information will be coming out in phases, so stay tuned and be patient!
#dots percy jackson updates#dots disney updates#dots updates#pjo series#pjo#percy jackson tv show#percy jackson tv series#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#rick riordan#virginia kull#sally jackson#jason mantzoukas#mr d#dionysus#megan mullally#mrs dodds#glynn terman#mr brunner#chiron#timm sharp#gabe ugliano
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Tall and slender with bright blue eyes and brown hair down to her shoulders, Jackie Fuchs could have passed for Mary Tyler Moore's daughter. She would spend time on the Sunset Strip, where she could dance and discover new bands and feel at home among all the free spirits and Ziggy Stardust wannabes. This was the Strip pre-paparazzi, pre-bodyguards era.
One night in the spring of 1975, Rodney Bingenheimer, a notorious hanger-on and the unofficial mayor of the Sunset Strip, caught sight of Jackie and her friends on the dance floor at the Starwood. He'd been going around the room asking every girl whether she played an instrument. Jackie didn't stand out. She was just next.
Jackie told him she played guitar, but when he wanted to know how old she was, she hesitated. Why would anyone be interested in a 15-year-old musician? she thought. But when she revealed her age, he squealed, "Oh, you're perfect!" He told her there was this producer she had to meet - right now, in an apartment a short drive away - who was putting together an all-girl rock band. She was giddy but dubious, bringing two friends with her.
It was around 9 p.m. when they knocked on the door to Kim Fowley's apartment, known as the Dog Palace. Fowley took one look at her and went straight into a stream-of-consciousness pitch about his vision for her in the band. No one listening to Fowley at that moment could have predicted that the band he was describing, The Runaways, would have a lasting influence on pop culture and feminism - that it would launch the careers of metal icon Lita Ford and Joan Jett, or that it would inspire the riot grrrl movement of the early 90s.
Within several months, she would have to decide whether to quit school to join the band. Jackie was a straight-A student who had scored in the 98th percentile on her SATs. He wanted her to play bass, convincing Jackie's mother that they would have a bodyguard and tutors with them.
The other girls in the band sensed she was a novice on bass and didn't like that she played with a pick. But Fowley wanted her in the band - which consisted of singer Cherrie Curie, lead guitarist Lita Ford, rhythm guitarist and singer Joan Jett, and drummer Sandy West - so she was in. Jackie Fuchs became Jackie Fox, and Fowley was their mentor, their boss and their provider.
As he would admit to anyone, Fowley was mostly after teenage girls. Steve Tetsch, a guitarist who was friend with Fowley, says they used to drive to high school looking for teen girls to hit on.
In early 1975, Fowley became enamoured with Kari Krome, a 13-year-old aspiring songwriter he'd met at Alice Cooper's birthday party. She was his type: a young girl who spent too much time dodging her violent stepdad and bouncing from apartment to apartment in various working-class neighborhoods. She sought refugee in the glam-rock scene, where her bisexuality was welcomed, and filled notebooks with songs.
It was Krome who discovered Joan Jett and convinced Fowley to start a band with her; she says he didn't see Jett's potential at first. Krome ended up being assaulted by Fowley. The next day when she tried to talk to Jett and West about him "abusing her," she says they both just looked at her like she was an idiot. "I remember getting really mad and just saying, 'You know what? Watch your ass, because you might be next.'"
One day after a final set, at around 1 a.m., Fowley took the band to a drab motel near the club, where they started celebrating with friends. Soon after Jackie arrived at the motel, a grown man she thinks was a roadie approached her with a Quaalude in his hand. He told her she needed to take it, no questions asked. And she did.
Most of the people at the party were teenagers, and they were spread out into different rooms. They smoked cigarettes and passed around beers. Jett played guitar while Krome smoked a joint with a guy outside. When Helen Roessler and Trudie Arguelles, two of Jackie's friends from the Sunset Strip showed up, they couldn't believe the state she was in. They had known her for a year and never once had they seen her intoxicated. "It didn't seem ok," said Roessler. "Jackie was always really in control."
At some point, Jackie said she had to lay down on the bed, because she was having trouble standing upright. When a roadie came to check and see if she was ok, Fowley asked him if he was interested in having sex with her. "She doesn't mind," Fowley said. "Do you?" Jackie tried to protest, but she was frozen.
"You don't know what terror is until you realize something bad is about to happen to you and you can't move a muscle," she said. "I can't move. I can't speak. All I can do is look him in the eye and do my best to communicate: please say no. I don't know what it looked like from the outside. But I know what was going on inside and it was horror." The roadie declined Fowley's offer, and soon after, Jackie says she started to slip in and out of consciousness.
According to Roessler, Fowley stood over Jackie and began to unbutton her blouse. Jackie wasn't wearing a bra. "Nobody seemed to really care," Roessler said. "It was really weird. Everybody was sitting in there alone with themselves. It felt like everyone was detached or trying to pretend like nothing was going on."
When Fowley started taking Jackie's pants off, Roessler couldn't bear it anymore. She got in her parents' car and left. Multiple witnesses say that Fowley began to penetrate Jackie with the handle of a hairbrush. Fowley invited other guys to have sex with Jackie before removing his own pants and climbing on top of her. Someone called others in to watch. Arguelles returned to the room to see if this was all a big joke.
"I remember opening my eyes, Kim Fowley was raping me, and there were people watching me," Jackie said. She looked out from the bed and noticed Currie and Jett staring at her. She says this was her last memory of the night. Jett has denied witnessing this event. Krome escaped to the adjoining room and began drinking. She said she was confused why nobody did anything to end the attack. She recalls that Jett and Currie were sitting off to the side of the room for part of the time, snickering. "I didn't know what to do," she says. "Go outside and drive and find a payphone and call the police? I didn't want to call the police on anyone, but at the same time I knew what was happening was wrong. At 14, I didn't know how to process it."
Nobody in the band acknowledged what had happened, which made Jackie feel she should keep quiet too, thinking it was somehow her fault. "That was the day the elephant joined the band," she said. She compartmentalized the rape so she could stay in the band. The distrust between her and the other girls in the band made her guarded. When she was about to leave, Jett got on her knees and begged her to stay. However, after another incident broke the straw on the camel's back, she finally did leave the band.
Shortly after Jackie returned to Los Angeles and the stories of her quitting the band hit the news, Brent Williams, who witnessed what happened to her that day in the hotel, says he received a call from Jett. She said that Jackie's parents might file a lawsuit. If lawyers ever contacted him, he needed to deny being in the motel room that night. (Jett's representative did not comment when asked about the phone call).
Victory Tischler-Blue was Jackie's replacement on bass, and one of her main memories from her time as a Runaway was how some of the other members made fun of what happened to Jackie.
Years later, Jackie thought she had come to terms with her rape or at least figured out how to live with it. "You develop mechanisms to compensate for what happened. You put it in a box. Except, she says now, the rape had warped her life in ways she failed to recognize, with intimacy being a constant struggle, and sleep being an issue. Her trauma intensified in 2000 when she learned that Currie wanted to write about the rape in a memoir, depicting the incident in lurid detail, but instead of Jackie, portraying the victim as a fictionalized groupie who encouraged it, and portraying Jackie as the passersby who was unmoved.
Her guard only started to come down when she read Krome's comments about the rape in a Runaways biography. She didn't mention Jackie by name, but she didn't need to. Krome's account perfectly matched her memory.
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Oooh, would love to hear more about your Schitty's Creek AU or the That Thing You Do AU!
Okay, well, the Schitty's Creek one is mostly just the title but I mean, it has to be done, right?!? This is what I have in my notes:
Shitty and Lardo are the mayor of a town, Shitty’s Creek. Turns out Jack owns it, Bob bought it for him on a whim. After Bob retires, they move to the town so the family can be together, to try to rebuild their relationship.
After they’ve been there for about a year, Bitty comes to town. He opens a bakery, or is trying to. Jack comes to help.
(I did write a Ted Lasso/Schitt's Creek crossover. That was fun.)
And That Thing You Do was a prompt I picked for the SC Media Fest but didn't make much progress on (I completed this one instead) but my very terrible preliminary notes:
Is David the wardrobe designer for the band and dating the guitarist who doesn't treat him right? Is Patrick the drummer who fills in and falls in love with David? Who knows!
Band: The Twodors (called that because they dress in tudor style and there are two guitarists)
Tom Hanks: Roland? Ray?
Patrick fills in on drums
Sebastian is one of the guitarists
(okay, okay, the Twodors is really stupid but the "Oneders" in the original movie makes me laugh every time so I had to pay homage to it.)
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Citizens and Background Characters Galore
I'll add some bite-sized bits of info for minor characters and background characters I haven't talked about yet.
🎊 Fanmade Unikingdom Citizens:
Mabel
Pepper
Calvin
Beatrice
William
Gracey
Marie
Ink
Val
Ribbon
Pheasala, a noisy pheasant/salamander who trained with Hawkodile and Eagleator in the dojo
Maya
Annie
Ringo
Carmine, Mabel’s father
Meryl, Mabel’s mother
Millie, Mabel’s older sister
Scarlet, Mabel’s younger sister
Douglas and Max, Mabel’s younger brothers
Princess Unear, Unikitty and Puppycorn’s mother who is retired
Prince Pericorn, Unikitty and Puppycorn’s father who is also retired
Rosa, a soft-hearted axolotl
Bigbang, an exuberant sports commentator
😠 Fanmade Frowntown Citizens:
Master Cupid
Estelle
May
Samuel
Jane
Mayor Melancholia
🍨 Citizens of Ice Cream Land:
King Dairycone
Queen Snowcorn
Neapolitan
Floela, a friend of Neapolitan's and a butterfly enthusiast
Judge Fudge, a fudge square judge who hears proceedings in Ice Cream Land’s local courthouse and carries out the laws the king and queen create
Coco, a chocolate ice cream
Mintfoot, a mint chocolate chip ice cream with large feet
Dough, an ice cream sandwich
Toffee Chip, a vanilla ice cream with toffee chips on his head
Caramella, a caramel square
Sprinklehead, a strawberry ice cream with thousands of sprinkles
Bananilla, a hybrid of vanilla and banana-flavored ice cream
Randy, a bubblegum ice cream
Marshscotch, a hybrid of a marshmallow square and a butterscotch square
Cottonette, a cotton candy ice cream
Wafflecone, a waffle cone
Browncake, a hybrid of brownie batter and cake batter ice cream
Sunday, an ice cream sundae
Olivia, a peanut butter-flavored ice cream
Iceberry, a snow cone involved with the Ice Cream Bowl Palace Guard
Jamison Woolforth
Dawn Woolforth
The Milkman, a cow who harvests milk from the waterways and delivers it to people throughout Ice Cream Land
🦢 Citizens of Swan Lake:
Angela, a ballet instructor and Swanna's mom
Christopher, a trumpetist and Swanna's dad
Ziggy, Swanna's wild little brother
Prime Minister Odetta Swan
Siegfried Swan
Phil, an expert on feelings
Marmotter, aka “Armot,” a marmoset/otter hybrid who Phil was buddies with in college
Fiona, a swan girl
Edmund, Fiona’s brother
Lila, Dr. Fox’s cousin who invented a machine that lets you watch your dreams
🪸 Citizens of Marevi:
Queen Moonlily
King Nettle
Clamilla
Snailtop
Celina, aka Nightrain
Pierre
Elena
Dominic
Felicia
Julien
Yogurt
Meringue
Whip
Emilio, Spike’s grandfather who is a meteorologist and plays the flute
Xenia, Spike’s grandmother who works with undersea technology
Coach Ursula, an oarfish and Shelltop’s volleyball coach
Gabbro, a crab/pufferfish hybrid on Shelltop’s volleyball team and the teammate he’s closest with
Carla, a cardinal fish on Shelltop’s team
Natalie Nautilusia, a nautilus who is a close friend to Waterlily and Spike
Aura, an oyster and a friend of Waterlily
Dr. Mako, a mako shark who the Seagang and their families regularly go to see for help
Thorn, a sea urchin hairstylist
Basseel, a bass/eel hybrid
Eleanor, a ladyfish
Filippa, Eleanor’s sister
Prudencia, a vaquita
Sardino Beguino, a sardine
Dottie Houndshark, a houndshark
Angarrot, an angelfish/parrotfish hybrid
Cell, a calico fish (a fictitious species), Eliza, a vampire squid, and Manuel, a manta ray, who all went to film school with Marcella
Chrysa, a crinoid/anemone hybrid and a regular customer of Cream’s family’s bakery
Dave Seaweed, a patch of seaweed who directed Quoth the Penguin, “Nevermore!”, a show that Spike was in
Dolores Whiteside, a white-sided dolphin and drummer
Andreas, an anglerfish
Marlibut, a marlin/halibut hybrid, Cerise Inka, a squid, and The Sea Devil, a seadevil, Marevian musicians who had acting roles in Quoth the Penguin, “Nevermore!”
💐 Citizens of Botania:
Lord Monarch, a monarch butterfly fairy
Fern, one of Kira’s brothers who gardens
Allegra, a butterfly fairy who is a trapeze artist
Zora, a dragontail butterfly who travels across the drier regions
Bia, who makes tools and structures using things she finds in nature
Emi, Kira's grandmother who raised her and her siblings
Desiréé, a deer/mole hybrid
Rose, a rose/ruby Gemflower
Carnation, a carnation/rose quartz Gemflower
Sapphire, a morning glory/sapphire Gemflower
Cherry Blossom, a cherry blossom/cherry blossom agate Gemflower
Freesia, a freesia/carnelian Gemflower
Moonstone, an angel’s trumpet/moonstone Gemflower
Needle
Jessie, Dr. Fox’s grandmother, who has a degree in environmental science
Lucinda, her great-grandmother
Jay, her great-uncle
Forrest, Felix, Don and Rosemary, Benton’s cousins
Vita, her older sister
👑 Citizens of Elegancia:
Prince Alfredo, a white peacock and son of Queen Carnelia
Princess Anastasia, a pink peacock and daughter of Queen Carnelia
Captain Ember, a phoenix and head of the Elegancian royal guard
Sir Arthur Wolf
Felicity Wolf
Benton, Dr. Fox’s father who engineered a space-traveling car
Carriette, Dr. Fox’s mother
Boomerang, her younger brother
Rover, her uncle who is a forensic scientist
Daisy, Rover’s wife and the creator of Snapdragon
Nico, one of Dr. Fox’s cousins
Kamie and Berry, her youngest cousins
Snowfox, a stuck-up bully of Dr. Fox and Dr. Bunny who was cursed with perceiving herself as ugly
Ivy, a poison ivy/violet hybrid and Snowfox’s friend
Dusty, a paleontologist and archeologist who Dr. Fox and Dr. Bunny knew in their classes
🪄 Citizens of Charm Valley:
Estara, one of Trey’s mothers who can predict the future
Luna, Trey’s other mother
Arcentharion, the elf mage who rules over Charm Valley
Hilda, Imogen’s aunt
———
*Queen Carnelia was created by CharStar. The characters I listed here were created by me.
**Snowfox was a collab between me and CharStar. Her @ is ButterflyRage410 on Wattpad.
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1. 3. 11. 14. 19. 24? for the artist ask
1. Who did you pick?
The Dead Kennedys!! They're not my absolute favorite band, but they're quite high up there, and they're the band I've gotten really into the most recently :))
3. Why are they your favorite artist?
The lyrics and vocals definitely have a lot to do with it, especially in Frankenchrist (album by them), but also I really love the riffs!! Initially, that was actually like, the thing that stood out to me the most when I first listened to Soup Is Good Food (the soup song)—I really liked the main riff of it, and that's what got me listening to it somewhat obsessively
11. Do you own any of their merchandise?
Nope, don't own any of any band. What I will do soon (ish) though, is write something Dee Kay related on a box of Jello (the food) that my family got from the store today and hang it up on my lamp, so maybe that counts as DIY merch, lmaoo
14. Which of their albums is your favorite?
Frankenchrist! It's probably a bit of a weird choice as it's definitely the record that sounds the most different compared to the others, but the way it stands out also is the reason I like it so much. The lyrics are also really clear and hearable, which was a really unique experience listening to it for the first time for me since I'm used to not knowing what they're saying whatsoever :))
19. Would you like to see them live?
Ooookay, this is the million dollar question with this band. Basically, the band split up in the 80s due to royalty issues and stuff with Jello's label, Alternative Tentacles, and there was a big lawsuit about it and such. In 2001, the band sans Jello got back together, not releasing new material but still playing concerts, and that's been criticized a bunch by Jello, who's said that bands that do reunion tours are just looking for more money and that he does not agree with them "resurrecting" the band whatsoever
Would I do it though? I honestly don't know much about how the remaining Dee Kays play live now, haven't researched it at all, but if people generally enjoyed themselves going to these concerts, why not? Like, I get that Jello doesn't agree with it, but there were still 3 members that initially went for it, so it can't be THAT morally wrong or whatever someone could argue. Also, there's that Tumblr post I saw at some point, not sure who it was by, that said something to the degree of "we're the last generation that will ever get to see these bands alive and live", and that really stuck with me. The Dee Kay's drummer, DH, actually passed away not long ago—late October, I think—and that really cements the point in my mind. Rest In peace though, DH
24. Do you have a favorite member?
Jello!! Funny stage name (and his real name is the name of the guy I sit next to in one of my classes, so that's something), ran for mayor (+ tried to for president) with a surprisingly interesting campaign considering its politics, married in a graveyard on Halloween, 10/10 singing and speaking voice, and he's an interesting character all around
I honestly know next to nothing about any of the others either, partially because I haven't specifically sought that info out, and partially because people REALLY focus on only Jello despite there being several other people in the band. I was actually reading a part of a punk fanzine that had a section on the Dee Kays, and they made no reference to any of the other guys individually while at the same time mentioning that Jello was born in Colorado, so the difference of people who talk about Jello vs the others is a LOT. I do hope to learn more about the other guys eventually though!!
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