Rehearsal Room

Register
Sign in
  Back

Lone Voice  Finished 

It'd been a complete accident that Asher happened upon the rehearsal room on his return to his dorm from the library, and when he peeked in, he found it to be empty. How strange. A few instruments cluttered the space, much to his surprise, so, intrigued, the new Hufflepuff treads carefully in, weary of any and all eyes that may find him here -he prayed they wouldn't, for the embarrassment would be far too much for him to take-. His footsteps reverberate within the walls, he notes, the corners of his lips tugging up in response to the acoustic sounds produced by mere footfall. One he's examined the instruments -that he has no clue how to play-, he settles himself on a stool at the centre of the room, facing the wall. Testing his own sound, he hums, a low sound. Beautiful. Now, he can get some much needed rest and work off the stress caused by his workload. The brunette parts his plump lips, and sings to his nonexistent audience, his voice just as angelic as the boy from which it originates. It was a very well concealed talent of his, one that he'd only ever shown to his mum, who'd always commended him for it.
"Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around." Begins the male, his eyelids fluttering closed, dark lashes made to dust over his cheeks so delicately, "Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir, not while I'm around." He envisions his mother, perched there in front of him in all of her beauty, and he grins to himself. Yes, it was his job to protect her, now that his father is no more.
"Demons are prowling everywhere nowadays.
I'll send 'em howling, I don't care.
I've got ways.~
No-one's gonna hurt you,
No one's gonna dare.
Others can desert you,
Not to worry,
Whistle, I'll be there.
Demons'll charm you with a smile for a while,
But in time,
Nothing can harm you.
Not while I'm around."


He really misses when his voice wasn't the only one to complete the verse, when the woman who raised him would join in and assure him that he wasn't alone. Turns out, this trip to the rehearsal room saddened him more than he ever anticipated, instead of easing his anxiousness. If only he had a pick-me-up, now...
Last edited by Asher Lundell on 24th April 2018, 12:57 am, edited 1 time in total.

~Lundell~

Lone Voice  Finished 

Reducio
Is this open?


Ami wasn't supposed to be wandering the hallways; she was supposed to be cooped up in the library, panicking over her giant stack of homework. But she worked better under pressure, and she needed to blow off some steam and clear her head. Procrastinating her overdue assignments was just the way to do it. Passing by the rehearsal room, she heard angelic singing coming from inside. As music was one of her fatal weaknesses, she paused, silently opening the door with her toe. She listened, letting the boy's singing wash over her, and she noted with pleased satisfaction he was totally in tune- a rarity, in truth. Her perfect pitch wasn't set off by any jarring notes, for which she was glad- she didn't want to spoil the boy's performance with a critique ("Your C4 is flat," she might've said under different circumstances).

"Sweeney Todd," she called out softly, only her silhouette leaning casually against the doorframe visible. "A very well-sung Sweeney Todd. Right? I might need to brush up on my musicals and such, but unless I'm sorely mistaken, that sounds awful like Sweeney Todd." She made no move to enter to room or to introduce herself. "Personally, I'm a fan of the moderns- Rent, Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, Be More Chill... but not everyone shares the same musical taste."

esse quam videri
STA: 2 | AGI: 4 | STR: 7 | CTL: 6 | ArcP: 4 | ACC: 7

Lone Voice  Finished 

Reducio
Very.


Alarmed by the unforeseen presence of the writer, the first year jolted on the dilapidated stool, nearly toppling over in the process, the legs wobbling in protest. Fortunately, he caught himself with his feet on the floor, steadying the movement of his seat anterior to turning himself round to face the female, whose figure he could hardly make out in the blue glow a nearby window cast over the floor. He yearned to bolt past her, to escape his grim fate of exposure, but he stuck to it. Running would make this so much worse and besides, he hadn't made the company of many students yet. That being the case, he swallowed down the bile threatening to escape his throat, as to better make a rejoinder to her musings. "Older pieces have that history to them. I love that aspect,"[/color} He begins, cooly as can be, "But that's not to say the newer ones don't have character. The humor, for instance, in modern musicals, is outstanding. Michael in the Bathroom stands to be one of my favorite songs- I know it by heart."

(Not a clue how to keep this paragraph from turning yellow, lmao) Running smoothly so far, it felt. He hadn't stuttered, or revealed his inner turmoil, so it must have been decent conversation. He was pleased to have found someone who shared his passion for music, albeit unsettled by his discovery.

"Asher Lundell." He blurts, before adding, to clarify, "M-My name, I mean. It's Asher."[/color}

~Lundell~

Lone Voice  Finished 

"Michael makes an entrance..." Ami sang sarcastically, cocking an eyebrow. She most certainly liked this boy- good taste in musicals. She mentally yelled at herself to slow down, calm down, just breathe, dangit, and took in a deep breath. No anxiety. Breathe. No anxiety. "Nice to meet you, Asher. Previously known as Michael, who made an entrance, I'm Ami. Ami Procoppio, not that last names are of the utmost importance in this hulking castle." She stepped forward, letting her hands tug self-consciously on her hair. Did she sound snooty? High-and-mighty? Lord, she hoped not.

Ami squinted at the boy's robes, and broke into a wide smile. "Up top, m'dude!" she crowed, striding forward, her hand in the air for a high five. "Hufflepuff? My man!" Internally she cringed; where had this surfer-dude attitude come from? Sure, she'd been to California, and sure, she'd gone to loads of beaches out there, but she hadn't lived there. "How was the Sorting Ceremony? Did the Hat have any wise words of wisdom to convey to you? He mostly just said stuff about how I'm not like my mom to me, but I expected that, really. No one can be quite like my mom."

Ami gasped, rubbing her nose. "Golly, I talk so much nowadays. Have you had a chance to meet our Head of House, Professor Solomon, yet?"

esse quam videri
STA: 2 | AGI: 4 | STR: 7 | CTL: 6 | ArcP: 4 | ACC: 7

Lone Voice  Finished 

"This is way too good for a school play.~" He quips, with a shimmer in those Caribbean-blue eyes. This was pleasant hitherto, and he felt relief wash over him in a wave, his anxiety washing out with it. All it took was some good, likeminded company to ease his troubled mind. Even so, he was still diffident, and couldn't resist sneaking a glance at himself in the shiny reflection of a brass instrument. His hair was neatly combed today, falling in light waves over his forehead like a sea of deep brown, with a couple flyaway strands curling upward toward the ceiling in some places. His face was just as handsome as it could be for his early age, his brown-flecked cheeks not too round and his jaw having some shape to it. Not too shabby, but it could use some improvement. He looks back at Ami, trying to discreetly tame the rebellious pieces and accepting defeat when it doesn't go his way. Instead, he opts for the goofy high five offered to him, with a small chortle. What a strange girl. Not that he minded: he, himself, wasn't very normal. "The hat? Ah! It just told me that I'm a lot like my father, and that I have a lot of ambition in me like my mum. Not very helpful. My own mother could have told me that. Honestly, I expected a little more of it, since pa always used to speak so highly of its wisdom. No shade towards the... inanimate... animate... object, though."

Reducio
I'm too lazy for the color thing. And it didn't work out last time, so I feel like there's really no point in it.

~Lundell~

Lone Voice  Finished 

"I get what you mean," Ami smiled. "You hear about the Hat and all its wisdom and knowledge, and then all you get when you actually get to hear it talk is, You'll never be as good as your mom. Pretty big letdown, in my opinion. But, of the voices in my head, the loudest one is mine. Yeah? Carving your mark, and all that?"

Ami moved to go stand by the window, not expecting Asher to follow her. The light from the windows casting stark shadows across her face, Ami knew she most definitely looked older than most eleven-year-olds; in contrast, most people had guessed she was fifteen or sixteen, some had even had the early twenties! Well, that was their mistake- Ami didn't have to apologize for the way she looked- right?

Tugging on the ends of her hair, she absentmindedly began to hum Your Obedient Servant, her absolute favorite Hamilton song. There was just something about the backing rhythm and chords that made her want to melt into tiny musical pieces everytime she heard the song. The chord change was superb, the melody was great for fitting in with the era and still sound modern, and the happy background music was beautifully unnerving.

esse quam videri
STA: 2 | AGI: 4 | STR: 7 | CTL: 6 | ArcP: 4 | ACC: 7

Lone Voice  Finished 

Now that he was used to her presence here, it was at easier to relax. Indeed, he did not follow the more physically-matured character to the window, but he did trail after her with his eyes. He hadn't meant to stare, but there really wasn't much else to look at in here besides her. Her needless fidgeting caused him to quirk a brow, but he hadn't mentioned it, allowing the silence to steal them away, if not just for a moment in time. He was one of those people that didn't feel the need to suffer through small-talk. Soon, however, he found that he was too fixated on her, peeling his eyes away to gaze fixedly at the grand piano. I'll bet that was rude of me. It wasn't his intention to ogle her at all, and he wasn't. A purely platonic way of viewing, right? Correct. He was only a first year, and 11 is no age to go hurdling yourself into 'romance'. The boy puffs a cheek out. Why on earth was he arguing with himself over something so trivial? It didn't matter. His disorder begs to differ--
Her humming tunes him back into the present, the familiar melody going in one ear and out the other. He recognized it. It was a lovely song, but his personal favorite is 'Satisfied'. He loves the tale of tragedy it tells; the unrequited love story it describes is totally heartbreaking. The best line? 'At least I keep his eyes in my life.'

~Lundell~

Lone Voice  Finished 

Ami crossed her arms over her chest, not sure what to do about the heavy silencing enveloping the two of them. Speaking would break her comfort, and stomping would be weird. Music would work, though, wouldn't it? She let her gaze wander, skipping over her guitar case in the corner (too much work to unpack) and the cello on its side (it was too small, and wasn't hers). She smiled to herself when she came across the piano, and decided to play to her strengths- literally.

Ami slowly walked across the room, finally sitting down at the piano, where she felt most at home. She let her hands drift over the keys, mentally scrolling through her repertoire, going over the pros and cons of each song she came across. Finally deciding on a song, she mentally set the sheet music down in front of her, visualizing the notes and chords, filling in the spots that her near-perfect photographic memory had missed.

Finally, she silently dragged her fingertips up and down the surface of keyboard one last time, feeling out how the piano would react to the amount of pressure she placed on each key. Lightly, her right foot on the pedal, she started playing the beginning notes of It's Quiet Uptown. Would Asher recognize it? Would he sing?

esse quam videri
STA: 2 | AGI: 4 | STR: 7 | CTL: 6 | ArcP: 4 | ACC: 7

Lone Voice  Finished 

The female rejoins his line of sight as she takes a seat at the piano. What on earth was she doing? He figured it out in the instant that her fingers started to trace the ivory keys. As a history buff and music geek, he picks up on the tune with ease. Was he meant to sing? He chose to take a chance, quietly clearing his throat. It was getting dry. He wished he'd brought water with him. Regardless, his tone remains the same as before, smooth as silk, and luckily not cracking as it would when he was alone at times. "There are moments that the words don't reach. There is suffering too terrible to name..." Straightening his spine, and more confidently, he proceeds, "You hold your child as tight as you can." He's memorized his cues about as well as he can, timing himself perfectly so that each word falls on their rightful notes as he goes along. Another time, he lets his eyes shut, trying to block out the sensations that performing in front of others brought to him, and this go around, he wasn't so queasy. It felt more like he was by himself, singing to no one. "The moments when you're in so deep, it feels easier to just swim down."

~Lundell~

Lone Voice  Finished 

there are moments that the words don't reach

Ami had been seven when she first got physically bullied at school. For weeks, now, it had been terrible, low whispers in the shadows; "Music freak." "Wimp." "Suck-up." "Know-it-all." And then she got tripped, walking down the hallway, and stepped on. And it hurt. She broke her arm, wrist, and her digitus medicinalis on her left hand, rendering it useless for weeks, leaving her unable to play.

Every day after school, she'd sit at the piano in the music room, crying, trying so hard to play with her left hand. It never happened. And then, out of nowhere, a boy had sat down next to her, and looking at the sheet music, began to play the left hand for her. Oh, sure, he sucked, but Ami was touched. No words were needed that day. That was the day she'd met Thomas.

there is suffering too terrible to name

Ami was nine when she heard her father was... how had they put it? Discharged with honors. He'd served in the Korean War, then didn't reenlist when his wife, Abella, had their first child, but instead helped behind the scenes of America's military with their nuclear program. When Ami had returned to England to have a 'proper education' (as her mother had put it), her dad had reenlisted. And now he was in a hospital, his legs missing.

you hold your child as tight as you can
and push away the unimaginable


Ami's mom was never one for sentiment, but seeing her husband in a hospital had broken something inside of her. The beautiful, perfect Abella Marie now had an aura of permanent sadness enveloping her, and overprotectiveness surrounded her beautiful baby girl. Abella didn't tell her this, yet, but she didn't want Ami to join to military anymore- not after the harsh reality of the dangers had come crashing down on their family.

the moments when you're in so deep
it feels easier to just swim down


And then Ami slipped into social anxiety. And depression. And self-harm. It was nothing but a winding spiral going down, down, down, down...
And then Professor Lear had helped her. Showed her that her life was more than just mashed potatoes. Nora could calm her, and she could laugh with Lorelai. She could geek out with Hunter, scream and throw pillows aimlessly with Amadea. She'd eat with Mia and Mae, and work tirelessly on the Hufflepost. And suddenly, swimming up towards the surface felt... good.







Ami, to her utter embarrassment, realized that she was crying, and quietly rubbed the tears from her face, having to double-time it and play both parts with her right hand. She took a shaky breath, and kept playing, keeping her eyes on her mental sheet music placed in front of her.
Last edited by Ami Procoppio on 21st April 2018, 8:29 pm, edited 3 times in total.

esse quam videri
STA: 2 | AGI: 4 | STR: 7 | CTL: 6 | ArcP: 4 | ACC: 7

Lone Voice  Finished 

Well, it was only music, and Asher's problems were, unfortunately, buried deep, past many walls.
The lyrics struck chords with him that hadn't fully grasped until he was the one singing them. Until he could relate himself to Eliza and Alexander's loss, until he could put himself in their position.
The cruelty of fate's hands, the knowledge that your happiness could be stolen away in one fell swoop.
He and his mother, both, were familiar with this pain, but Asher wasn't so lucky as to see his father before his untimely death. It was only supposed to be a day-long trip to study muggle London when things went awry, and they didn't receive the news until his dad was three days in the dirt. Figuratively. His body was hardly recognizable, more porous than humanoid as a result of bullet holes. Terrorism was a nasty thing, but not so uncommon in the world these days.
He was only eight at the time, and was in the study, reading through a history book when the letter came in the hand of his pale faced mother, who'd wept and gathered her son into his arms. And to think that only a week ago, he was walking with them, with both parents, along the pier. It ate at both of them. They shared their pain. He protected her, from there on, taking the role of his father, and she did her part as a mother. Needless to say, he learned to be responsible, to educate himself, when he was a wee lad. They hadn't the funds for his mum to be the only one putting food in their cupboard.
Elisia Lundell barely let that boy out of the house. She was paranoid her child would be snatched up by death. So he never had much of a chance to make friends. He took his grief out in writing, in song, in the little vacations induced by adventure novels.
But it was only music, and he would not, could not, be so weak. Reality was cruel, and it was a possibility for someone to crush his fragile heart the moment he exposed it for what it truly was. He finishes the final verse with open, stinging eyes, watching the patter of tears to keys. "They are going through the unimaginable.."

~Lundell~

Lone Voice  Finished 

Asher sang his way through the whole song, and Ami focused on making an acceptable pianist as she played along with his singing. There was no way she'd be able to say Asher was singing along with her playing with a straight face- he was an amazing singer, and his voice would be able to captivate even the most cold-hearted adults. In a way, he reminded her of Orpheus, of Ancient Greece- the son of the muse Calliope, he had a voice so sweet he could charm snakes and make willow trees weep. 

Ami paused, barely breathing as she blinked away tears, her voice catching in her throat as she slowly lifted her foot off the pedal, letting the rolled chord fade away. "Th-" Ami cleared her throat uncomfortably and tried again. "Asher, th- that was amazing. God, I don't think even Renée Elise Goldsberry herself could've done it better."

She stared down at her lap, hurriedly wiping the tearstains off her face. Biting her lip, she looked up again, knowing that she looked like a hot mess- emphasis on mess, not hot. "Any requests?" she asked quietly. "I'll see if I can play it... I don't know how good it'll be, though."

esse quam videri
STA: 2 | AGI: 4 | STR: 7 | CTL: 6 | ArcP: 4 | ACC: 7

Lone Voice  Finished 

His chest was tight. Unwanted emotion was begging to surface. He takes a breather, shakily exhaling and slumping on his stool, forehead in his hands. Merlin, he didn't plan on this happening. Didn't expect to feel so homesick, and so alone in one day. Heck, he could have forgotten Ami was there, had she kept quiet. A unrecognizable flush washes over his freckled cheeks as she accolades him. He was used to the praise when it came from his mother, but coming from someone who wasn't family, it was so much more flattering. "Thank you..." He says, barely at a whisper, the color in his face fading steadily. With the sadness in his heart, was a pang of guilt. He could have offered a shoulder for her tears, but here he sat, like a coward, wallowing in his own self doubt. He nudges the troubling thoughts aside for a moment. What song could he ask for? What would shine light in this gloomy practice room? What would bring her hope, and help him assess his feelings? He has just the piece. "Do you know You Will Be Found?" It would make sense that she would. That was a stupid question--

~Lundell~

Lone Voice  Finished 

"Do you know You Will Be Found?" Asher asked tentatively, still in the middle of the room, although now he was facing in her general direction. 

"You Will Be-" Ami broke off, nearly laughing- although, if she had laughed, it would've been extremely rude. Did she know it? Did she know it? Ha, she played it so often, Thomas liked to joke that it was her theme song- and in it's on way, it really was. "Yeah, um, yeah, I know it. Well, you'll be singing Evan's part, of course. You'd be crazy if you didn't- your voice is perfect. If I get my head out of the notes in time, I'll see what I can do about not screwing up all the other parts- I'm quite partial to Alana, but Jared's voice is in the same zone as her's, I suppose."

Ami shifted on the piano bench, rolling her wrists, tears completely gone. Don't screw this up, don't screw this up, was the repeated mantra in her head. She played the opening chords, going slowly, tentatively at first, but gradually going up to tempo with the song. She waited with bated breath, knowing that Asher was going to just absolutely kill this song.

esse quam videri
STA: 2 | AGI: 4 | STR: 7 | CTL: 6 | ArcP: 4 | ACC: 7

Lone Voice  Finished 

Like a child, he inflated his cheeks, huffy on his part. He doesn't know why he bothers opening his mouth sometimes. He lets the air out soon as it's there, though. It was doing his face's structure no favors, whatsoever. Curse his youthful appearance. "I figured you would. I don't know why I asked. Silly of me." Another compliment almost ruddies his flesh again. So, he's a sucker for reverence. "W-Well, I- I think you're overestimating my voice, really, but... I wouldn't mind taking Evan's part." Ah, this doll. Someone, please, save him from interaction. He looks like a fool. An attractive fool, nonetheless. He'd do well to be in theatre when he was old enough for bigger roles. "You'd make a good Alana." Concedes the brunette, hurriedly adding, "--Based on the way you sound, that is. But then again, a singing voice can differ from one's speaking voi-" He just can't quit babbling. It's a nervous habit of his. She saves him from humiliation by starting the song, the notes clicking into place into his mind, and he automatically harmonizes with them, significantly less terrified and actually able to observe her playing while he belts out: "Have you ever felt like nobody was there? Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere?"

~Lundell~
  Back