#playing music and was very healthy and hale. you know. up until the year that he wasn't. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tails89 · 4 years

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Couldn’t find the words

“Ah shit!”

Derek pulls up, feet almost skidding on the icy ground, to avoid running into the woman who had just slipped in front of him. He offers his hand to help pull her to her feet and then crouches to gather up the items that had spilled from her bag.

“Thanks.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks pink in the cold.

Derek can only just hear her over the music blaring from his headphones. “It’s not a problem,” he mumbles, handing over the bag.

She opens her mouth as if to say something more, but Derek is already beginning to move away. It’s a half hour run back to his place and he still needs to shower and eat before work. He knew he’d be cutting it close when he decided to detour through the main street to check on Erica and Boyd.

He gets home with time to spare and takes a long shower. Werewolves may run warmer than most humans, but even Derek couldn’t deny that the winter chill had finally set in across Beacon Hills.

He’s just sitting down to breakfast when his computer begins to beep the incoming chirp of a Skype call. Derek stabs at his keyboard to accept the call.

“I don’t have time for this Stiles,” he greets the rumpled figure on the screen.

“You could have ignored me,” Stiles counters, grinning down at the screen. His hair is sticking up at all angles, suggesting he only just got out of bed. The dark circles surrounding his eyes suggesting he could probably do with more sleep.

“And you would have kept calling and texting until I answered. It’s usually just quicker to answer the first time.”

“You’re learning!”

“I’m leaving.” Derek shoves the last piece of toast in his mouth and goes to shut the laptop.

“Hey, wait.” Stiles waves his hands in front of the camera. “Finals are over. I’m heading home on Friday, you’re still cool with me crashing at your place Friday night yeah?”

“Why aren’t you staying with your Dad again?” Derek asks.

“Between Dad and Melissa, Scott and Kira I’m going to be the double third wheel?” Stiles does the maths on his fingers. “The fifth wheel? It’s awkward man, and its either share my room with Scott who will not shut up about Kira this and Kira that or sleep on the couch. The couch Derek! In my own house! I’d much rather crash in your spare room.”

Derek glances at the time. “Yeah, sure, you can stay here,” he says. “Look, I’ve got to go. I’m going to be late.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you Frida-.”

Derek shuts his laptop, ending the call. He rushes out the door, grabbing his jacket on the way out. His phone chirps Stiles’ indignance at being hung up on. Fortunately, he can cut across the park quickly to get into town and get to his job at the library with time to spare to set up for the day.

***

It’s late when Derek finally makes it home.

The lights are on inside the house, illuminating small patches of the porch through drawn curtains.

“I don’t remember giving you a key,” Derek drawls as he pushes the door open, “but I’m not surprised you managed to find a way in… and make yourself at home.”

“Hey Derek,” Stiles pauses the movie he’s been watching. “Nice place. Way less creepy than the old one. And look, it has walls!”

Derek drops his keys on the table by the front door and makes his way over to the couch, stopping to drop his bag on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah, that was one of the reasons I chose it actually,” he says, knocking Stile’s feet off the seat so he can sit.

“Huh, werewolf’s got jokes,” Stiles teases. He offers Derek the bowl of popcorn he’d been munching on. Popcorn he must have purchased, because Derek knows there had been none in the house that morning. “Seriously though,” Stile continues, “it’s nice.”

Derek takes the offered snacks. “You should have seen it when I bought it.” He looks around at the fresh painted walls and plush carpet.

“Yeah, dad was telling me. He said you’d bought a dump. This is so not what I was expecting.”

The sheriff had advised Derek against purchasing the worn-down house, but Derek had needed something to do with his spare time once the pack had all gone off to university. At first, he’d considered fixing up the old Hale house, but the damage to it had been too significant and it had needed to be pulled down completely. Derek didn’t have the heart to try and re-build it from scratch. It wouldn’t be the same.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Derek says. “It just needed new paint and carpet, and some electrical work and the bathrooms needed resealing and tiling.”

Stiles stares at him. “Sure.” He lets the word drag out.

“Anyway,” Derek says, trying to turn the attention away from himself. “What are you doing here? You told me you wouldn’t be here until Friday?”

“Oh, you got that did you?” Stiles retorts, “when you so rudely hung up on me.” He shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth, chattering as he chews. “I managed to get an extra day off work so I could come home early.”

“Your dad will be happy,” Derek says. “He’s missed you.”

Stiles nods. “I haven’t told him yet. I’m going to surprise him at work tomorrow.” He hits play to resume the movie.

Derek narrows his eyes at him. “Is that your way of asking if you can crash here?”

“That’s cool right?” Stiles asks.

Derek doesn’t have a problem with it, but he draws out his answer as if he’s mulling it over. Finally he says, “Fine. You can stay.” He gestures back towards the hall. “The spare room is down the hall on the left.

Grinning, Stiles resumes the movie.

***

When Derek gets up the next morning, he can already hear Stiles rustling around in the bathroom across the hall. He ducks into his ensuite for a quick shower and is heading out into the kitchen just as Stiles is opening the fridge to peer inside.

“There’s eggs in there if you want.” Derek moves over to the coffee maker. “Or muesli in the cupboard.” There’s already a fresh pot brewing. Stiles must have worked the machine out while Derek was in the shower.

“Muesli,” Stiles scoffs. He has the eggs and a carton of milk in one hand, the other is reaching for the pantry door. “Who in their right mind eats muesli?” He finds the flour and dumps his armload on the bench. “But you knew that already,” he says going back for the sugar and maple syrup. “Because by some magical chance you have all the ingredients – unopened – for pancakes. Crazy, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s weird,” Derek agrees, pouring himself a coffee and sitting on one of the bar stools to watch Stiles mix up the batter. “No idea how that happened.”

“It’s almost like you knew I was coming.” Stiles sets the frypan on the stove to heat and fills his mug with coffee. “Ahh, the sweet elixir of life!” He takes a moment to savour the taste before turning back to the task at hand. The pan sizzles when he drops the butter onto the hotplate. “So, what are your plans for the day?” He asks Derek.

“I’m working this morning,” Derek tells him. “But I finish around lunch if you want to do something?”

Stiles flips the first pancake.

“Sounds good,” he says. “I’m going to surprise Dad at work. I haven’t told him I’m back yet.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “So you said.”

“I’m surprising him so I can catch him out eating junk food,” Stiles says defensively. “Don’t look at me like that.” He drops the finished pancake onto a plate. “I’m young and healthy. I can eat what I want.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Derek snags the plate and drizzles a generous serving of maple syrup over the top.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Stiles lunges for the plate. “You don’t even like pancakes. Go eat your muesli.”

Derek holds him back with one hand. “This is rent,” he claims. “You owe me two more. Get cooking.”

Stiles grumbles and returns to the stove to finish breakfast.

“Will you be staying here again tonight?” Derek asks.

“If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Derek holds out his plate to accept another pancake. “Cora’s not coming down for Christmas this year. She’s meeting Jason’s parents.”

“Oh yeah, she was telling me about that.” Stiles sits to eat his breakfast. “That’s cool. And it means no couch for Stiles.” He devours his meal while Derek packs the dishwasher and cleans his teeth.

Derek grabs up his jacket and shrugs it on. “I’m off. I’ll catch you later.”

Stiles nods and finishes his breakfast.

***

“Hey Daddio!”

“Hey kid, what are you doing here?” Sherriff John Stilinski stands from his desk and gathers his son up in a hug. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“I was able to get a couple of extra days off work,” Stiles explains. He lets go of his Dad and takes a seat on the desk, one foot bracing and the other swinging in the air. “So, surprise!” He breaks out the jazz hands.

“This is fantastic.” John sits at his desk. “Scott gets back tomorrow, and I know Mel is dying to see her boys. I’ll let her know to get your room set up.”

“It’s all good.” Stiles says, waving his dad off. “I’m crashing at Derek’s place. Figured Scott and Kira would want to room together and I’m not about to get between those two lovesick puppy dogs.”

John frowns. “Are you sure?” He asks. “It’s your room. I don’t want you to feel like you haven’t got a place to go.”

“It’s fine Dad, really.” Stiles reassures him. “It’s easier this way. No fighting over who gets to use the shower first, and most importantly, no sleeping on the couch.”

His dad gives him a thoughtful look. “If you’re sure,” he says. “And you need to come over for dinner tonight.”

“Of course.”

“And bring Derek. He hasn’t been over in a while.”

“Don’t you two watch hockey or something every weekend?” Stiles stands. His hands have somehow found a pen to fidget with.

“Yes,” John says seriously. “Because somehow in a whole household of sporty werewolf and werewolf adjacent kids, not a single one of you appreciates sport.”

“I can see now I’ve done you wrong as a son,” Stiles says solemnly. “The least I can do is drag Derek along.”

“The very least,” his dad agrees.

Stiles moves around to give his dad a hug. “We’ll see you tonight then.”

***

Christmas morning dawns cold and foggy. It’s too early for the sun to rise and burn through the morning mist and the dim grey light that filters through the curtains does little to brighten the room.

Derek’s not sure what woke him but as he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling he realises he can hear Stiles moving around in his room next door. It’s earlier than Derek would normally get up and he’s cosy and warm, so he rolls back over intending to get at least another hour of sleep in before rising for the day.

The light tread of footsteps patters down the hall, pausing outside Derek’s bedroom. The door is thrown open and Stiles is there, hair sticking up all over the place and shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“It’s Christmas Derek!” His phone is in his hand and he taps it. The warbling tone of Mariah Carey drifts up from the loungeroom.

“Oooooh I- do-hn’t want a-lot for Christmas-“

“No.” Derek rolls over and stuffs his pillow on top of his head.

“And guess what?”

“No.”

“It’s a certain grumpy werewolf’s birthday!”

“ -The-re’s just one thing I need-“

“It’s too early Stiles,” Derek grumbles. His pillow does nothing to muffle the music which is getting louder. He raises his head to glare at Stiles. “I will end you,” he warns.

Stiles laughs and holds his phone up to his mouth like a microphone.

“All I want for Christmas is you.”

Derek throws his pillow at the door. Stiles ducks out of the way and dashes down the hall. Derek can hear his fluffy socks slide against the hardwood. With a groan he throws off his covers and stands.

“It’s 6am on Christmas,” Derek complains, stomping out of his room.

“Exactly!” Stiles is hovering at the end of the corridor. “It’s Christmas! Oh my god, hurry up!”

“For what? Jesus Stiles, is this what you were like as a kid because-“ the words die in Derek’s throat as he reaches the end of the hallway. “How- how did you…?” His living room has been transformed with twinkling coloured lights running along the windows and a tinsel wrapped tree in the corner. “This is…”

“Surprise! Happy Birthmas!” Stiles falls into one of the lounge chairs, arms spread wide.

“How on earth did you manage this without waking me?” Derek asks.

“With great difficulty and my super ninja skills.” Stiles shifts over so that Derek can sit too. “Actually,” he adds, “I didn’t think I’d be able to do it. I was one hundred percent sure you’d wander out and catch me dragging the tree in or something. You’re getting soft buddy.”

“No, I’m not,” Derek grumbles. “Is this it then? Can I go back to bed now?”

“What?” Stiles looks scandalised. “No, it’s Christmas Derek!”

“Yeah, I think you’ve said that three times now.” Derek tells him. “Doesn’t change the fact you woke me at the ass crack of dawn on a holiday-”

“The best holiday!”

“- and my birthday.” Derek talks over him, ignoring the interruption. “You know I can and will kick you out of my house.”

“Noo, Dad said I’m not allowed to go over until after 10am.”

“I wonder why that could be?”

“Rude.” Stiles hops up from the couch. “And to think I got you a present.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, of course I did, man. Here.” Stiles walks over to the tree. There is a single wrapped present sitting underneath half decorated in Christmas paper and half in birthday paper. Stiles sits on the floor to reach for the present.

“Wait.”

Stiles turns back to Derek. “What?”

“Just… one moment.”

Derek rushes back to his bedroom to grab the present he’d wrapped for Stiles. It’s been sitting up in his wardrobe for weeks. When he returns he goes to hand it to Stiles.

“Nope,” Stiles says, pulling his hands behind his back. “You have to put it under the tree.”

“Really?” Derek asks, standing there.

Stiles says nothing.

“Fine,” he sits on the carpet and puts the present under the tree.

“Now we can open them together.” Stiles says.

“No,” Derek. “Coffee first.” He gets up and moves towards the kitchen. Stiles is practically vibrating in place as he watches Derek fill and start the coffee maker. He potters around the kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew, making a show of unpacking the dishwasher and putting things away.

When he finally returns with to mugs of coffee, Stiles glares at him.

“You took your time on purpose.”

Derek shrugs. “You made me get up before the sun was up. I’m going to make you wait for presents.”

“This is an outrage.” Stiles makes grabby hands at the second mug of coffee Derek is holding.

“You’ll get over it.”

“You’re worse than my Dad.”

“Do you want the present or not?”

“Yes! I can’t believe you got me a present.”

***

They head over to the Stilinski house at around 11am. Stiles is chomping at the bit to go and unwrap more presents with family and Derek is looking forward to foisting him off on someone else. It’s loud and boisterous as the Stilinski men try and work out who got the gag gift.

Stiles tears the wrapping paper off a dilapidated old cardboard box, crowing in delight. “It’s mine again!” He opens the flap, face falling as he pulls out a rock. “What is this?” He demands, shooting his Dad a dirty look. “This is your doing.”

The Sheriff bites back a laugh. “Don’t look at me,” he says. “It wasn’t my turn.”

Stiles digs through the box pulling out more rocks. At the bottom of the box there is an Xbox gift card. “Don’t think I’ll forgive you that easily.” He turns to Scott who had gifted him the card. “Thanks man.”

“You should have seen your face,” Scott laughs. “Worth it.”

Stiles scowls, “Who’d you give it to?”

“Oh, Derek,” Kira hands over another present. “This one’s for you.”

Derek looks up in genuine delight. “You really didn’t have to.” He starts unwrapping the large present, his lips twitch infinitesimally. “Uh, thanks?” The struggle to remain genuine is clear on his face.

“You gave it to Derek?!” Stiles screeches, mock outraged.

“I don’t understand.” Derek pulls the last of the paper off the large jar of bar soap.

“It’s decorative,” the Sheriff says defensively. It sounds like an old argument.

“In what universe?” Stiles argues. “It’s cheap hand soap you bought at the supermarket.” Stiles turns on Scott, “I can’t believe you gave it to Derek. He’ll probably actually use it.”

“Yeah, because I have hygiene standards, unlike you.” Derek teases.

“You’re part of the family now,” Melissa tells Derek solemnly. “That soap’s been doing the rounds for what, five years?”

“It was a heartfelt gift,” John defends. “And you all treat it like a joke.”

“It was a panic purchase on Christmas Eve,” Stiles laughs. “He hadn’t had time to get me anything for Christmas, so he bought a dollar store jar and a bunch of those multipacks of soap.”

“And my son had the absolute audacity to regift it back to me the next year.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” Stiles teases. “It’s supposed to come in the box,” he points out the one his gift card had been in, “but Scott is a duplicitous fiend. What can you expect from the one engaged to a trickster?”

Kira bumps shoulders with Derek. “I got it last year.”

“Ah, so it was your idea then!” Stiles nudges Derek with his foot. “We’ll just have to think of a way to get them back next year.”

“Maybe I want to keep it,” Derek grins. “It’s a nice jar. I could put it on the hall table.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Stiles warns. “I will never come to your place ever again.”

“Oh, then I’m definitely putting it on display.”

“That’s it, we’re not friends anymore.” Stiles stands to collect wrapping paper, shoving Derek over on his way past to the recycling bin.

The house is beginning to smell of baked goods and once they’ve finished unwrapping presents Stiles and Scott go to help Melissa in the kitchen.

Not long after Erica and Boyd turn up for lunch after spending the morning with their own families.

It’s cramped around the table with eight people, but they make it work, passing around food and drink until everyone has a plate. The wolves might not be able to get drunk, but they give it their best shot with beer and wine and other alcoholic beverages.

As the humans of the group, John, Stiles and Melissa are very capable of drinking too much but know better than to try and keep up with the rest of the pack.

Stiles is feeling pleasantly buzzed when he drops down onto the sofa with Scott.

“I’m so full,” he groans, using one hand to rub his overstuffed belly. “I’m never eating ever again.”

“You say that now,” Scott tells him, “but I know from experience that you’ll stuff yourself again at dinner and complain all night.”

“Not all night,” Stiles says. “I refuse to sleep on this couch, I’ll just get Derek to roll me home at some point.”

“Just because I don’t have to put up with it doesn’t mean it won’t be happening.” Scott points out.

“Fair point.” Stiles slouches down in his seat.

“Thanks for letting us stay in your room by the way.”

Stiles waves Scott off.

“Yeah, it’s a good thing you’ve got Derek.” Kira wanders over from the kitchen in time to chime in on their conversation. “Things would have been a bit cramped otherwise.”

“Tell me about it.” Stiles takes another sip from the beer he’s been nursing. He knows he should slow down if he wants to make it to dinner. “I still can’t believe Mel sold the house. We had so many memories in that place.”

“Well it’s not like she was living in it anymore.” Kira drops onto her fiancés’ lap, careful not to spill her wine. “It’s kinda sweet that your parents got together.”

“Took them long enough,” Stiles grumbles. “Do you know how long Scotty and I have been trying to set them up? We had it all planned out. Our room was going to have bunkbeds.”

“We could still do bunkbeds.” Scott points out. “They’d be a bit cramped now days,” he grins at Kira.

“Gross.” Stiles sits up. “I don’t want to hear about how you two are defiling my childhood bed. I’m going to go find Derek.”

He finds Derek in the kitchen with his Dad and Boyd. John’s unloading the dishwasher for Food Coma round two and Derek is helping him put things away.

“Why are you all wearing your serious discussion faces?” Stiles asks as he hops up onto the bench.

“Boyd caught the scent of another werewolf this morning.” Derek puts away the last plate and leans back against the bench next to Stiles’ hanging legs.

“You think it could be a threat?” John asks.

Boyd shrugs. “It’s the holidays, people are moving around more. They’re probably just passing through.”

Derek nods his agreement. “Still we’ll keep an eye out. Just to be sure.”

“Mr Alpha over here,” Stiles teases, knocking his foot against Derek. “Who’d have thought you’d be good at this one day?”

“I was always good at this.” Derek frowns, and knocks Stiles’ leg away.

Boyd deadpans. “You were a terrible Alpha.”

“Is someone talking about Derek?” Erica and Melissa enter the kitchen. She and Stiles high-five while Derek does his best Oscar the Grouch impression.

“You guys don’t understand what it was like putting up with all of you,” Derek grumbles.

“Oh, I think we have some idea.” Melissa shares a look with John. “Now, all of you, out of my kitchen unless you’re helping me with dessert.”

***

“I can’t believe you have to go back to Berkeley soon.”

It’s well after midnight. Erica and Boyd have gone home, and Scott and Kira have disappeared upstairs. Stiles is just about ready to head off himself. After a long day of eating and drinking he’s ready to fall into bed and sleep forever.

“I’m only three hours away,” he reminds his Dad, “and I come and visit all the time. Besides, I’ve only got a couple more months and I’m done.

“You know what you’re going to do when you finish?”

“Not a clue.” Stiles catches sight of Derek wandering into the lounge room. “Derek! Take me home.” He makes an aborted attempt to get off the couch. “You might have to roll me out to the car though. Mama McCall your food was too good.”

Melissa chuckles, tiredly from where she sits, head resting on one hand, legs curled up underneath herself. “Glad to hear it,” she says. “Now get out of my house so I can go to bed.”

Stiles pouts, climbs slowly to his feet.

“I’ll see you guys for dinner tomorrow,” he promises and follows Derek out to the car.

As the car starts up outside, John stands, holding out his hand for Melissa. “I never thought I’d be happy to see my son dating Derek Hale.”

“They’re good for each other.” Melissa lets John pull her up onto her feet. “I’m happy for them.”

“Yeah.” The flash of headlights illuminates the living room as the car pulls out of the driveway. “Me too.”

________________________________________________________________

Five times someone thought Stiles and Derek were dating (and they one time they finally used their words and were)

This’ll have underlying plot. I just love humourous miscommunication :)

Also posted on AO3

#sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf #teenwolffanfic

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x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 4 years

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Evanescence's Amy Lee Talks Musical Evolution, Growing Up & Life Under Quarantine

The frontwoman opens up to the Recording Academy about the hard-rock mainstays' forthcoming album, 'The Bitter Truth' and its lead single, "Wasted On You"

The current coronavirus quarantine has turned out to be a mixed blessing for Evanescence leader and singer Amy Lee. While she is elated about the new music her band is producing for their first album in nearly nine years, they have to figure out how to finish the project being apart. They also had to postpone touring Europe with Within Temptation and cannot interract with their fans anytime soon. That feels ironic given the anticipation for their new release. At least Lee did not have to face being separated so soon from her five-year-old son Jack and explain why his mother had to go away on tour, and she got to jam virtually with Lzzy Hale on the Halestorm song "Break In." At the same time, Lee admits, her immediate family members are driving each other a little bit crazy. That's to be expected.

Lee and her bandmates have been adjusting to the circumstances. They decided to change the choice for the lead single off of their forthcoming album The Bitter Truth by swapping it out for the song "Wasted On You." Thematically, however unintentionally, it feels like now and features all five band members in their own homes engaging in various activities from contemplation to playing music. The video is very fitting for a band whose singer frequently channels inner emotional turmoil that people struggle with alone. Thus the clip feels like a natural extension of their work.

"Yeah, this is the place I always put myself in," concurs Lee, speaking on the phone to the Recording Academy from her home in Nashville, which fans are seeing for the first time through that video.

"Most of us in the band are very private," notes Lee. "Showing my home is a big deal for me. Just being our real selves without makeup, just living in real life, not acting. What's powerful about that is that everybody around the world is doing the same thing. The idea behind it was to show that at our core we're all still connected even though we're not physically together."

When she saw the first edit of the clip from director P.R. Brown, whom she praises highly, it made her feel very connected to her band. "I missed them," admits Lee. "I pulled the trick on myself, feeling all these emotions about being close to you guys and how we're going through the same stuff. I guess it was going to be effective because it totally worked on me."

Given how depressing life feels for many people right now, Lee believes that new music is extremely necessary, and there are new Evanescence songs still in the making. The Bitter Truth is not actually finished yet, and Lee is not sure how many songs will make up its entirety. Individual tracks will just be released when they are and eventually be collected as a cohesive whole.

"I like living in the moment, and I don't have it all planned out," says Lee. "And that's beautiful. We always wanted to do it this way. It's lucky because we got to continue down our path. We went in for the first batch of songs with Nick Raskulinecz in the beginning of February. We have that batch, but I'm not sure exactly when we're all going to be able to get back together again since we live all over the world. Jen's in Germany. But whether we're going to have to do some things remotely, we still have to get together to some degree."

Usually, the band records new music and it takes a year or so for it to reach the public's ears. They started working on "Wasted On You," a break-up song of sorts about freeing oneself from routine and toxic patterns, the day before New Year's. Sharing it with fans and getting feedback so soon after it was completed feels like a gift of instant gratification that they find special and rare.

Naturally, many fans have been anxious for a new Evanescence album, but they have continued to snap up concert tickets and have remained loyal throughout the near decade-long duration. "It's not like they got pissed off and left," remarks Lee. "They still want it whenever it's going to come, and that's a huge gift. Especially now. There's just so much music out there that you can only find if you're searching for it."

Lee has continued making new music over the last nine years. Following her emancipation from her previous label Wind-up Records in 2014, she jumped into many new projects. The first was the Aftermath album that served as the soundtrack to the movie War Story starring Catherine Keener as a war zone photojournalist. That was done in collaboration with cellist Dave Eggar, who also worked with her and producer/composer/drummer Chuck Palmer on music for the 2015 short film Indigo Grey: The Passage by Irish/hip-hop dance troupe Hammerstep. The musical trio further collaborated on scores for the documentary short I Am Her (2016) and the feature film Blind (2017). In 2016, inspired by the birth of her son two years earlier, Lee did an album of children's music songs entitled Dream Too Much.

Such diversity should not be surprising considering that at the core of Evanescence swirl goth, metal, and pop sounds that commune without overriding each other. This makes the band less easy to tag and simply reflects Lee's diverse musical tastes. Last year, they released a cover of Fleetwood Mac's "The Chain."

"I like a lot of pop music," says Lee. "I like a lot of dark, trippy, trap-pop weirdness. Even if that just comes out in the way that I'm crafting a melody, it's there for me enough that I feel it in the way that I want to feel it. Then all those other elements that play a role, like cool guitar riffs and things from other genres, it's when it all blends together that it really sounds right. That's a picture of who we are."

While she knows people certainly expected certain new music from her, Lee has needed to scratch that creative itch that led her to such outside explorations. She felt that denying herself these opportunities would make her feel like she was not being true to herself, even though her fans craved a new Evanescence album. Lee felt compelled to work on that "weird song idea" or collaboration with a cellist. "If I don't let myself do it, then I get frustrated," she concedes. "There was something else I needed to get off my chest first."

The singer and pianist mentions that when she was pregnant, she thought her mom phase would outweigh work, but her need to create only got stronger because it was such an emotional time for her.

"Up until the week before Jack was born, I was working on that Aftermath album which was so great because it was moody and weird and creative, and it didn't all rely on the same old tricks," recalls Lee. "A lot of it was instrumental. People want me to sing a ballad. I actually wanted to play the piano live with Dave [Eggar] and write as we play and record that, then create the song that's totally weird, electronic, Africa-inspired. There's all kinds of weird stuff on there."

Ten months after Jack was born, a lot of emotions were welling up inside of Lee, which naturally led to Dream Too Much. "I just felt like I had a whole new chamber of my heart that started up that I didn't know about before, and I needed to express it," she elaborates. "Weirdly, becoming a mom made me need to create a lot more. There hadn't been an all original Evanescence album until now, but it's just been everything else." She chose to jump onto all of those "someday, I want to do..." projects.

When Lee did return to making music with her main project, it was for 2017's Synthesis album featuring Evanescence songs reworked with a full orchestra and electronic music elements along with two new songs and three instrumentals. She notes that many people thought that that release was a clue as to where the band's music was heading, but in fact, it was the opposite.

"Because we got to do that very different thing, I felt so motivated and inspired to run the other direction and really dive headfirst into the rock part of our music and our current sound as a band," says Lee. "I think allowing yourself to do all the things that your heart wants to do as an artist is just healthy. It's not like there won't be more fuel inside you that's going to want to create more the next day."

The long break between albums certainly helped feed her fire for the band. Further, Lee's artistic life has been augmented lately by two special musicians. The first is aforementioned cellist Eggar, whose resume includes The Who, Josh Groban, Beyoncé, Carly Simon, Bon Jovi and Manhattan Transfer, has been a great collaborator for her.

"He's just got such a bright energy and is so encouraging but also really, really talented," enthuses Lee. "He pushes me to the next level without it being painful, if that makes sense. We were talking about wanting to make a documentary of his life because you just sit down and listen to him talk about stuff like living on a beach in the south of France and playing a million dollar cello."

On the recommendation of Eggar, Evanescence guitarist Jen Majura came into the fold back in 2015 following the departure of longtime member and songwriting collaborator Terry Balsamo. She is the other key player.

"What I've learned over the years is the harder thing about finding a person that's going to be in your band family is the way they fit as a person," explains Lee. "There are a lot of people that can play amazingly, and Jen is a great musician, but for somebody to really fit into your family dynamic is hard. I called her and flew her to New York, and we just spent time together. We went to guitar shops, went to lunch, got drunk, and had conversations about music and jammed a little bit. But mostly it was just becoming friends, and it happened really quickly. It just felt right. We knew that. I knew that I liked her, and I could see things in her that reminded me a little bit of myself. It's been really nice to have such a cool jolt of positive energy that she inserted when we needed it a lot. Now we can also have background vocals. We've never been able to have that before with me being the only girl, and I wanted it to be a female voice."

Circling back to the new song "Wasted On You," there is reference to being "six feet low" that reminds one that on first two Evanescence studio albums there was one song apiece that referenced Lee's late sister, who passed away at the age of three when the singer was six. It turns out that Lee recently lost her younger brother, who died at the age of 24.

"It's really hard," says Lee, turning somber for a few moments. "This has been a crazy time, the last few years. A lot has happened to us within the band. Since the last album, there's a lot to say. We are still who we are, but there have been things that have caused us to change our perspective, and the way that we see the world, the way that we see other people, and the way that we think because of the losses that we've suffered. I'm speaking in plural because our bass player Tim just lost his stepdaughter."

Lee adds that this has been a time during which, in so many ways, she had to grow up and didn't want to. "I just want to be a kid again," she concedes. "I just want to be a kid with my siblings and my mom and dad, and somebody else I know at the end of the day is going to take care of it. Somebody else is going to be the dad, somebody else is going to be in charge. It's a really shitty thing that when you grow up, you have to be the one who does that. You have to be the one to make everybody else feel okay. And sometimes it's not okay. That's the bitter truth."

This moment dovetails into the Recording Academy's recent conversation with Tori Amos about how one does not really understand another's pain unless they have experienced it personally. And a person does not need well-meaning but cliched platitudes from others to deal with pain. They just need to process it in their own way.

"That's a huge part of this band and making music for me from day one," declares Lee. "I just need to process the fact that I hurt right now, and not say, 'But it's gonna be okay.' I still have hope after all, but I think it's important sometimes just to say, 'Hey, I hurt' and let that be the message because other people are hurting too. Instead of being fixed immediately, we need to process our pain, we need to feel the pain. It's important. It's part of what is eventually going to let you get through it. The only way out is through."

That concept might seem anathema to many people caught up in a social media and mass media world where everyone wants to put on a happy face and does not admit to feeling wounded or defeated.

"Right, we don't show the pictures," acknowledges Lee. "I don't Instagram when I'm having a horrible day. We're just showing little clips of life when something was awesome, so when you look through that window into somebody's life you're not getting the full picture. You're just getting the highlight reel. That isn't real."

Funnily enough, the music and videos of Evanescence represent the opposite aesthetic. They show when they are not having a good day.

"That's true," concurs Lee, laughing out loud. "You just listen to my album, and you hear how horrible everything is."

At least that emotional sincerity has allowed her to produce some timeless tunes, with more on the way.

#Amy Lee #Evanescence #2020 interviews

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dcnativegal · 4 years

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Day 9 of a National Emergency

Day 11 of a Pandemic

It’s Day 9 of a National Emergency, as declared by President #45. (On March 21, 2020)

There are many creative memes floating around the interwebs: this might be my favorite:

“Kinda feeling like the earth just sent us all to our rooms to think about what we’ve done.”

Valerie and I are in the house in Paisley, with Griffey the poodle and Moe the cat. We have fabric and yarn for making masks to protect people, including us, from the novel coronavirus known as Covid19, which popped out of the animal kingdom to the bipedal mammalian one known as humanity, in Wuhan China, in December of 2019. The deaths from covid19 in Italy have surpassed the ones in China where many more people were infected.

“A staggering 793 people died TODAY alone in Italy from the Coronavirus. That makes it the single deadliest day for any nation in the entire pandemic.” (Shaun King, Instagram.)

Although the medical system in Italy is sophisticated, the people and public health system were too slow. And the average age is higher than average? Iran is also devastated, while the USA screws down tighter with sanctions. The countries that have dealt with the virus while ‘flattening the curve’? South Korea, Singapore, and finally, China.

There are no positive tests in Lake County because there are no tests. There are a few people reporting the symptoms of sore throat, fever, shortness of breath, and fatigue. Valerie’s friend, who is also Valerie’s second husband’s eighth wife, but who’s counting, had a sore throat and just didn’t feel well, and went walking with Valerie and Griffey on the desert road by the Paisley airport, to my consternation. Valerie is 72, and is hale and hearty most of the time, but has this little flaw: an autoimmune disorder that kicks her butt, or rather the myelin sheath of her nerves, following any immune battle. I wasn’t around to forbid it, so all I can do is point out that Valerie is at higher risk than the average 60+ year old.

I might be, too, given my general lack of aerobic fitness and, um, insulin dependent diabetes. Also, sleep apnea and hypertension.

The person I worry most about is Toni’s husband, Al, who has been smoking cigarettes for 50+ years and uses oxygen now. He had just resurrected community theater in Paisley and we were rehearsing when the ‘social distancing’ directive from Governor Brown came down. I am to play Cora, a busy body and gossip in a small New England town, foil to the proper but also gossiping member of the welcome committee, Reba. And we both apparently dislike Willa Mae, played by Valerie.

The play will happen at some point. But I refuse to memorize my lines until I know when we start up rehearsals again.

Covid 19 would take out Al in a New York minute.

Schools are closed, restaurants are ‘take out only’. No one is traveling, with the exception of my sister’s youngest child, 19 year old Makoto, who flew east from Japan, to Los Angeles, to Philadelphia, cutting short his adventure as a student abroad. He became fluent in Japanese, and posted daily on Instagram. Now he’s in quarantine at his father’s home, just to be safe.

I have had moments in the past two weeks where I had trouble feeling at all safe or grounded. Join the club, Miss Lincoln. I sat in a meeting in a large circle of mostly women who all have an interest in helping ‘senior citizens’: the Aging Services Collaborative. And for me, there was a large elephant in the room that had my attention the entire time called ‘Coronavirus.’ It was Thursday, March 12. We were meeting in the Lakeview Senior Center, and the director got rather defensive when someone asked if she had shut down the lunch program. She said there’s be a serious backlash if she shut it ‘too soon.’ No such thing as too soon in the pandemic: by the next day, the senior lunch program was shuttered.

I was cranky and agitated in that meeting, and the younger women, new to the Collaborative, probably though I was a menopausal bitch. I wonder if they look back now, a week later, and think me prescient. Maybe a prescient menopausal bitch. At one point I said something to the effect of, we can choose to be South Korea or Italy. Let’s be like South Korea.

I also still get really wound up when the conservative Trumpian assholes in this county pipe up on Facebook about how the whole thing is a fraud, a hoax, a tactic to get to “Marshall Law.” Omigod. Like this guy:

Snowflake waving wildly here. If I could address this man directly, I would say the following:

Except we are not paying for it equally. Poor people always have a harder time.

Someone pointed out that, when this is all over, it will not be the CEOs and billionaires who saved us, but the nurses and janitors and grocery store clerks. Also, the truckers, the doctors and family nurse practitioners and physicians’ assistants.

I can’t retort to the delusion MAGA Lake county resident because we who work for Lake Health District are frequently scolded about posting anything in social media about Covid 19 because we ‘represent the hospital.’ Hmf, I’ve been muzzled. I try to read less of ‘Lakeview Announcements’ and more NYTimes. Still, I overhear bullshit at work. It’s not good for my blood pressure.

I am trying to figure out how to be useful at work, and I’m signed up to be a ‘greeter’ at the front entrance, and staff the ‘hotline’ which means I call folks who have symptoms to see how they’re doing, and wait for calls. The clinics are closed, the acute care is cleared out for the most part, the Operating Room where Hope works is ‘emergencies only.’ People drive up to a tent in front of the hospital and get their temperature taken. They’re asked, by a medical assistant who has a high school education and some extra training, whether they’ve been traveling, have a sore throat or any other symptoms. If they answer no to all and have no fever, they may be allowed to proceed to the emergency room, clinic, or to an appointment with the staff, like the head of corrections who came by on my greeter shift. He’s an enormous man, married to a pretty woman who holds at least 3 jobs in Lakeview including a part time Area Agency on Aging gig that’s directed by the Klamath group. Many non profit or governmental entities are based in Klamath and have a partial oversight in Lake County, the red-headed step child of Klamath County. This woman, and a south Asian man nicknamed “avatar’ by the BLM staff because they couldn’t remember “Arvinder”, and I were to start working on developing a “Village” volunteer effort in Lakeview. Then, the virus.

There are some volunteer activities spontaneously springing up in Lakeview; one facebook group is called Helping Hands of Lakeview. There are helpful things going on in Paisley through informal networks. I have one primary volunteer job: to pick up books at the Lakeview Library that sit in canvas bags labeled Paisley. And drop them off to Jan, who I think is the informal town mayor. She knows everyone, and everything, and reared her kids here.

I saw this on twitter:

Most of the volunteer stuff seems to happen via Facebook, a group called Lakeview Announcements. That’s where a lot of political bickering also happens. Missing dogs. Reports of ‘tweakers’ thieving around. Well of course they’re stealing, when no one will hire them, when the US of A punishes what is actually an illness, not a crime. An illness born of childhood trauma. But I digress.

No more crochet/ knitting/ rug hooking at the cavernous Bowling Alley’s party room. No more church, either.

We watched the marvelous Presiding Bishop Curry preach on our computers last Sunday, and listened to gorgeous church music and sonorous prayers, online from the Washington National Cathedral, one of my favorite Episcopal places. We’ll see what’s streaming again tomorrow, Sunday morning.

The knitting group is contemplating making face masks. So is Valerie. I’ve been looking at ‘the literature’ and there is one and only one study, in 2013, looking at the efficacy of homemade masks versus ‘respirators’ or ‘surgical masks.’ Of course, they are not as good but they are better than nothing. And corvid 19 seems to go straight for the throat. I’m thinking, those Safeway employees have been working really hard, and they are more at risk at the moment than health care workers at Lake Health District.

It’s a very strange time, full of opportunity for goodness and for greed. I’m glad my kids are safe, we are healthy so far, and I still receive a paycheck. We’ll see how this evolves.

"Nothing has prepared us for this moment. All we have is each other. Your safety is my safety. Protecting myself means protecting you, too. We are one race. Human race." - Jose Antonio Vargas

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alexandertash-blog · 5 years

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(HALE APPLEMAN. CISMALE. HE/HIM. THIRTY-ONE.) Hey, is that ALEXANDER TASH? I heard they’ve been in Salem for TWO YEARS and they’re working as a RADIO JOURNALIST. Last I spoke to ‘em they were pretty +INSIGHTFUL & PERSISTENT, but I hear they can be -PARANOID & SELF-CENTERED too. (tara, 28, she/her, est.)

CLOUDS OF CIGARETTE SMOKE; OBSERVATIONS SCRIBBLED ON SCRAPS OF PAPER; FINGERS RUNNING THROUGH TANGLED HAIR; A VOICE ECHOING IN A COLD, DARK ROOM; A WELL-WORN DECK OF TAROT CARDS

Hey, hi, hello! I’m Tara, and I’m so excited to be a part of this group. I don’t use fancy tags or too much formatting because I’m lazy -- but, like, what my posts lack in aesthetic charm I like to think that they make up for in at least passably decent substance? Here’s hoping!

Anyway, here’s my intro post for Alexander; some basic information can be found below the cut.

a pre-emptive TLDR; Alexander is an outwardly friendly man who likes talking to people (and, by extension, learning information and rumors), and he hosts a radio show every night under the pseudonym Asher Wilde to provide news and entertainment for the town. However, he’s a hard nut to crack in terms of actually getting to know him because he keeps his personal life to himself, and he finds it difficult to trust others’ good intentions. He practices witchcraft independently of any coven, for a mixture of purposes.

A lengthier explanation is below, if you want to read more details! I mostly wrote it out for my own benefit, lmao.

Background:

Alexander Tash was originally from a small town in Illinois. He was the youngest of six siblings and pretty much learned to keep his head down, especially because his parents were extremely conservative and he didn’t exactly fit their idea of an ideal midwestern son. He was too talkative and curious, and he was never the picture of heterosexual masculinity, which made him an easy target for ridicule, especially from his older brothers. The sibling nearest to him in age was close to him, but other than that, Alexander doesn’t keep in contact with his family.

He ditched town as soon as he earned a scholarship to study at a public university in Chicago. He majored in art history, but it was working a part time job at the school’s radio station that he really wound up enjoying, because he realized the power that an on-air microphone could provide. He didn’t bother changing majors at that point, but his voice became a nightly staple of the station, as well as at university events.

His popularity at university blossomed because of this, and Alexander ended up being pulled into a large circle of friends. He was swept up in this at first - but eventually learned that they were using him (and his radio platform) to promote their own self-interests. He finally realized that didn’t really matter - he got the best scoops of info from them that he could then turn around and investigate further to broadcast the next day.

After graduating, he worked a series of part-time jobs in downtown Chicago - a bartender, a personal shopper, a florist’s assistant - to pay the rent for his studio apartment while also doing part-time research for the art institute. It was absolutely miserable.

Alexander moved to Salem by a stroke of luck when their radio station sent an online call out for audition tapes from would-be broadcasters. When they offered him the job, he came to Massachusetts specifically for the chance to be on air again.

He lives in an old house that’s been converted into separate apartments, and he doesn’t have a car, so he either walks, bikes, or takes public transportation. You’ll usually find him out and about in town, except for in the evenings, when he works.

Profession:

He runs radio channel Salem 104.3 fm. The network management that owns this particular station has four or five other channels in town as well that all work in the same office building, and Alexander talked them into letting him do pretty much whatever he wants on 104.3.

He pre-sets a playlist of music for day and is only physically in the office from 5-10 p.m. He hosts a local news broadcast at 5 p.m. every day, followed by an informal talk show of sorts where he sometimes calls people to interview them, sometimes takes callers, and otherwise just finds interesting articles or bits of literature to read aloud during the breaks between songs.

He likes to find interesting news to report on, covering everything from local gossip to updates about town-wide news such as the murder. Whether or not the news is accurate is not really a concern of his, as long as it’s thought-provoking. He does try to provide all angles, though, and give as much information as possible, plus a healthy dose of speculation. (He wouldn’t consider himself a conspiracy theorist, but if the show fits...)

However: he didn’t want people in this town to try to manipulate him for their own interests, and he didn’t want people to censor themselves around him, either. So he disguises his voice on the radio (he speaks much more slowly and in a lower register) and broadcasts under a pseudonym (Asher Wilde), so unless someone listens very closely, they wouldn’t know that they’re the same person. Alexander doesn’t lie about his profession - if asked, he still says he works at the radio station, just in an administrative capacity instead of on air.

Witchcraft:

Alexander is a witch who is not part of either coven in town, though he’s heard that both of them exist, even if he doesn’t know all of the specifics. His magic style aligns more with the Witches of Requiem, to put him on the spectrum.

He started practicing tarot in high school (because why not?) and his interest was more of a casual hobby until he realized that it was always right, as long as he knew how to understand what the cards showed him. Then it became more of an obsession.

He’s met a few other witches to trade tricks and techniques but has never been part of a specific coven. His skills have grown, and he usually casts simple spells so he could be overlooked in public to hear better news, or spells intended to more easily allow him to gain others’ trust. He’s played around with casting protection spells on his listeners through the radio waves, but he has no idea if that works or not.

He has a vindictive streak against people who seem to wrong him; he’s successfully hexed four people before, non-lethally, and does not feel guilty about it in the slightest (two former hook-ups, an ex-boyfriend, and one customer, all of whom deserved it, in his opinion). But he’s not in the habit of using magic to harm others, otherwise.

He still trusts his tarot deck entirely, more-so than any human he’s ever met, and he’ll do tarot readings for people who have earned it, in his estimation.

Personality:

Alexander doesn’t share much about his personal life. He much prefers listening to others, and will always try to spin questions back on the asker rather than reveal information about himself.

He’s made himself quite well-known in the time he’s been in Salem, and he has never lacked for company. He has acquaintances he drinks with, people he parties with, etc, but he wouldn’t consider himself to have any “friends.”

That said, he’s also located at an odd intersection of isolation and vanity. He’s very self-centered, and he loves to be complimented, even if he doesn’t entirely trust sincerity.

Upon first meeting, he tends to seem self-assured and friendly. He’s not afraid to jump right in to conversation,

When you get to know him a little better, you realize that he’s much less of an extrovert than he would appear to be. If it weren’t for having to find news to report on, he would be perfectly pleased to hole up in his room. But ever by himself, he overthinks everything and doesn’t know the meaning of the word “relax.”

I can’t wait to start interacting with everyone else! I don’t use discord, but feel free to slide into my messages if you want plots, and we can work something out xoxo

#intro #hqsintro #about

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mythcarved-archive-blog · 7 years

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RULES. repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 TAGGED. you know i’m a bitch who loves to steal memes. TAGGING. any of my crit role rp folks who want to do this

BASICS.

FULL NAME : scanlan shorthalt NICKNAME : scanman, shorty, the meat man, burt reynolds, kingslayer. AGE : unknown ( somewhere between forty to one hundred years ) BIRTHDAY : unknown LANGUAGE / S : gnomish, common, marquesian. SEXUAL ORIENTATION : pansexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : biromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS : single HOME TOWN / AREA : unknown CURRENT HOME : transient/ank’harel/whitestone/greyskull keep PROFESSION : bard, tal’dorei high councilman, the meat man

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : brown & kept long, usually tied back into a pony tail, save for the untamable cowlicks that stick up in front. he has some thick side burns too. EYES : greyish/purple, large and bright (every time matt describes gnome eyes as beady i’m ready to FIGHT) FACE : heart shaped / long. high cheek bones, defined jawline. LIPS : full but perpetually drawn back to reveal a toothy grin COMPLEXION : he has very very very faint freckles but once he gets that marquesian tan they’re fairly prominent. BLEMISHES : aside from the cowlicks and scraggly facial hair, he is a vision of beauty. SCARS : deep grooves on the palms of both hands. several large and deep claw marks that reach from his torso to his stomach, courtesy of raishan. a small but plainly visible slash under his right eye. TATTOOS : a wide variety of nonsensical but sentimental tiny vintage tatts including but not limited to; a moustache on the inside his index finger, a sprig of juniper over his heart and a hand with it’s fingers crossed on the back of his neck. (he plans to get kaylie’s name tattoo’d in some gaudily fancy script eventually) HEIGHT : 3′5″ WEIGHT : roughly the weight of a small child, whatever that might be. BUILD : the definition of dad-bod. his stomach is pudgy and although there is definitely some muscle mass its still fairly flabby. if one looks hard enough theres some evidence of past malnutrition but most of it carries in his face. ALLERGIES : none. USUAL HAIR STYLE : tied back and messy. USUAL FACE LOOK : a perpetual grin that spells trouble and hides any characteristics deeper than ‘funny man and endless flirt’. USUAL CLOTHING : extravagant and opulent. anything that gives away the fact that he’s got money and is maybe a little too self-preoccupied and it’s probably something purple or maroon. lots of ear piercings, six on each ear in fact.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : powerlessness, poverty, not being good enough, change, death/dying. ASPIRATION / S : to be a good father / be a better person just in general POSITIVE TRAITS : bold / charismatic / quick-witted / humorous / courageous NEGATIVE TRAITS : deceitful / salacious / reckless / arrogant / self-absorded MBTI : esfp ZODIAC : leo / scorpio i cant decide TEMPERAMENT : sanguine / choleric (a healthy dose of both) SOUL TYPE / S : performer ANIMALS : triceratops, dogs, rabbits. VICE HABIT / S : sexually careless, lies compulsively, theres also the drug habit... FAITH : until very recently, scanlan didn’t feel he had time for the gods. it was when he spent a year sorting himself out that he started to find some comfort in praying to sarenrae (the goddess of redemption). GHOSTS ? : yes AFTERLIFE ? : no REINCARNATION ? : no ALIENS ? : yes POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : good people are good, bad people are bad. EDUCATION LEVEL : self taught, son.

FAMILY.

FATHER : vikol MOTHER : juniper SIBLINGS : none EXTENDED FAMILY : kaylie shorthalt (daughter) NAME MEANING / S : ‘scandal’ or ‘contention’ HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : none

FAVORITES.

DEITY : sarenrae (mostly because of pike’s affiliation) HOLIDAY : winter’s crest MONTH : pfft SEASON : summer PLACE : greyskull keep / ank’harel / emon WEATHER : warm but not humid, definitely prefers dry heat. SOUNDS : flute music, tavern ambience, the sound of a campfire crackling, his mother’s voice, pike’s laughter. SCENT / S : roses, patchouli, cinnamon TASTE / S : sweet stuff ! FEEL / S : physical contact of any sort / cuddling / hugs / more illicit physical acts, fabrics like silk or velvet, big cushiony soft pillows. ANIMAL / S : dogs NUMBER : 69 bow chicka bow wow COLORS : deep purples, gold, deep reds.

EXTRA.

TALENTS : lying, singing, playing the flute or lute, flirting. BAD AT : being honest, opening up to people, understanding people. TURN ONS : genuineness, sense of humor, equal parts strength and beauty, someone who can hit back whatever it is scanlan throws at them. TURN OFFS : nothing turns this little horn dog off HOBBIES : shopping, singing / playing music, getting busy probably doesn’t count as a hobby but... TROPES : i have many names, older than they look, sad clown, team dad, try not to die, really gets around AESTHETICS : scattered sheet music, floral printed fabrics, nudity just straight up nakedness, lightning and fire, intricately designed long swords or rapiers. QUOTES : 'you’re a scoundrel, scanlan shorthalt. it’s whats kept you alive.’ ‘you don’t leave your shit behind and keep going. you take it with you and the ones who stick around better get used to the smell.’

FC INFO.

MAIN FC / S : hale applebaum ALT FC / S : (i was using faceless icons of martin freeman as bilbo baggins but thats over) OLDER FC / S : YOUNGER FC / S : VOICE CLAIM / S : sam riegel GENDERBENT FC / S :

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ? A1 : listen i’m already writing a fic about the year scanlan spent away from vox machina and the whole aesthetic i have for it is lord of the rings meets a knights tale Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ? A2 : literally the same exact music i’ve reblogged to this blog Q3 : why did you start writing this character ? A3 : because i wanted to rp a critical role character and scanlan’s my fave Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ? A4 : he’s my real dad. he raised me. actually, i just really like characters that are more than what they first seem AND i like comic relief characters. Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5 : i’ve coached myself to be a better communicator of my feelings (thanks therapy) so it’s sometimes very frustrating watching scanlan do the exact opposite of that when it would literally solve 90% of his problems. also some of the earlier and skeevier bullshit he pulled with women. Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ? A6 : i’m also forty seven layers of sad hidden under a very thick layer of unaffected goof Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ? A7 : idk but adopt me into your family, father. i’m already gay but if i have to get an undercut like lionel and kaylie, i will. Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ? A8 : canon wise; pike and vex / vax and grog and kaylie non-canon wise; i love seeing him interact with all the taakos Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ? A9 : new episodes, music, fanart/fics. Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ? A10 : god it’s been in my drafts for two weeks now...

#〈 MUSINGS︙❛ have you heard the tale of scanlan the bard? ❜ 〉

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