peace-love-piper

[peace-love-piper]

What's the best colour hair in your opinion?

"I like to say it's less about the paint job, and more about the house beneath."

#ugh even *i'm* annoyed with her hahaha #answered #anon night

[peace-love-piper]

So are you and dirt boy exclusive or do I have a shot?

"I'm not exclusive with Loxley or Dylan, but I have to say you're not off to a great start calling one of my partners 'dirt boy'..."

#lol #answered #anon night #ship #dylan #loxley

[peace-love-piper]

Don't you think the pretty little perfect fairy thing is a bit much?

"The...the what? I'm not sure I know what you mean, I—I'm sorry..."

#SAD lololol #answered #anon night

[peace-love-piper]

How are you feeling about the band's renewal?

"I couldn't be more thrilled, and proud of each and every one of them for having the courage to pick up and start again. Everyone's in such a good place, and they're working super hard, and with a talented new bass player, Dani, joining the family, I think they sound better than ever!"

#answered #anon night #the band cthulhu #tales from the road

[peace-love-piper]

What's your biggest regret?

"I think...not reaching out to Ainsley sooner, done a better job being there for her? We were both doing our best and what we felt like we needed to do, of course, but...I can't help thinking of all these moments, so many years at Hogwarts, when perhaps having each other to lean on and talk to would have helped us to feel...less alone."

@ainsley-morse

#answered #anon night #ainsley

[peace-love-piper]

When was the last time you cried?

"Oh, Merlin...this morning, probably? I'm a quite weepy person, I'm sure you've heard..."

#answered #anon night #lmao she's fragile ok

[peace-love-piper]

Ramona Flowers dyeing her hair in Scott Pilgrim Takes Off

#sorry but this is piper oliver coded #about #hair

[peace-love-piper]

loxley-blair-lockhart​:

Her vibe was way off, but when she shouted at him to stop he felt it like a weight in his gut. Seeing Piper in overwhelm wasn’t uncommon, really, given that she was always learning new techniques of how to keep other people’s emotions out. This was different. She sounded scared, and that made it harder for him to not just run to her. He did as he was told, stopping still, his heart thumping so hard he was sure she could hear it.

“What - ? It’s okay, what’s? Pipes…” He kept stopping and starting, Loxley just wanted to know what he could do, if anything. He wanted to bundle her up and take her back to bed, make her a warm drink, and let her sleep it off. And he would. Just as soon as he could get to her. Experimentally, he put an arm out in front of him, as if checking for some invisible force field. He couldn’t feel anything, and so he moved closer again, taking tiny steps forward just in case something was seriously wrong.

“Show who, Pipes? I don’t understand what you mean… Can I hug you?” He’d come close enough by then to do so, with or without her noticing. He crouched down in front of her and moved her hair out of her face, wet with tears. “I’m safe, see? You’re safe here. I need you to try tell me what happened so I can help, or at least find someone who can help, because I don’t really get what you mean. Did someone… hurt you?” It was the only thing in his head, especially as she’d used masculine pronouns to describe this mystery person. He was trying to keep that anger away though and focus on her and what she needed. He took her hand gently in one hand, and with the other, he put his fingers into the earth, letting the extra emotions go down into the ground. She needed a clear head and he didn’t need his judgement clouded by anger.

That seed of Paxton’s energy had somehow compounded inside of her, like a tangled mass of prickling brush and vines that spread like weeds throughout Piper’s system, making it impossible for her to discern anything else—like Loxley’s small trickle of anger that warmed her cheeks and palm where he touched her. She couldn’t respond, couldn’t even think straight until Loxley began to actually drain all of that excess energy out of her, depositing it into the benevolent earth beneath their bodies like he hadn’t needed to do since Grant’s shiva, in the forest.

It was worse, this time.

At last, the strangling overgrowth within her was uprooted, pulled away, until all that remained once more was the seed; Piper was unable to relinquish it by force, as she normally could with intrusive energies, but it was manageable. For now.

She blinked rapidly, coming to like she was waking from an intense dream. She pulled back her hand so that she could wipe at her face, which really only accomplished streaking dirt everywhere. Piper met Loxley’s eyes and noted the fear reflected in the pools of brown; he was scared, she was scaring him. Of course she was, showing up unannounced and practically incoherent like this.

She shook her head, orange hair swaying to and fro. “No, I’m not hurt, I’m sorry, I’m fine—I mean, not fine fine, but—I’m not injured…” And then, anticipating what Loxley’s next question would be, Piper said, “It’s Pax—Paxton Brady. He was over at the house, to see Maeko and Oz, and…everything was fine, we were having tea and talking about the band and the radio and then I—I told him, about me, and he seemed…upset, you know, and he didn’t understand, so I thought if I just—just let in some of his energy and described what it felt like then he would be less—he wouldn’t be so—but something happened, Loxley, I don’t know what it was but it was awful—for both of us—and now I’m…I don’t feel right…”

He loved his people, but Loxley had a lot of people. He'd grown up just loving his dad, and now as an adult, he had more people than he could count that he cared for. It could be overwhelming at times, and so he cherished his time on the farm. He was working hard on independence. He had a girlfriend he loved who, due to the nature of her job, was away a lot. Loxley had to be comfortable with it being just him and Pearl and the majesty of the Earth.

He was in his little tent when he heard the tell tale sounds of apparation. Pearl lifted her head off his thigh lazily, expecting for him to get up and investigate, but her being a dog meant she already knew it was Piper. She could smell her. The fact Pearl wasn't even going to get up off the mattress told Loxley it was someone he liked, at least. He pulled on a hoodie and moved out to investigate. "Hey Pipes," He called out, before noticing the way she carried herself. "What's wrong babe?"

#p: loxley #old places make spaces #september 2020 #sprout country cottage #manchester #overstimulation cw #druid magic cw

[peace-love-piper]

PEYTON LIST in SCHOOL SPIRITS

#this IS young piper #like 13-14ish #you can't change my mind #LOOK AT HOW MUCH SHE LOOKS LIKE IMOGEN I'M-- #face #headcanon #lookalike

[peace-love-piper]

loxley-blair-lockhart​:

He loved his people, but Loxley had a lot of people. He’d grown up just loving his dad, and now as an adult, he had more people than he could count that he cared for. It could be overwhelming at times, and so he cherished his time on the farm. He was working hard on independence. He had a girlfriend he loved who, due to the nature of her job, was away a lot. Loxley had to be comfortable with it being just him and Pearl and the majesty of the Earth.

He was in his little tent when he heard the tell tale sounds of apparation. Pearl lifted her head off his thigh lazily, expecting for him to get up and investigate, but her being a dog meant she already knew it was Piper. She could smell her. The fact Pearl wasn’t even going to get up off the mattress told Loxley it was someone he liked, at least. He pulled on a hoodie and moved out to investigate. “Hey Pipes,” He called out, before noticing the way she carried herself. “What’s wrong babe?”

Piper was still trembling when she landed atop the familiar crest of a hill. She’d been too distraught when she left Knockturn Alley, her head overfull and her body reeling and her heart racing, to remember to put on shoes; the patch of grass beneath her bare feet was lighter in color, worn flatter and softer from repeated landings.

Apparating in her current state had been reckless, and it was only by some random stroke of luck that Piper had managed not to splinch herself. But her knees did give out when she landed, and Piper made no effort to get up from where she was hunched over in the dirt, sucking in too-big breaths of crisp evening air that chafed the inside of her throat and seared into her chest. It was good, that pain—something physical and real that Piper could focus on, to prevent herself from going under again in the torrent of the intangible that she’d just been submerged in.

With effort, Piper began to take stock of her other senses, her immediate surroundings; the organic smell of earth and grass, the cool blades that threaded between her fingers as she spread them apart and pressed her hands to the pillowy earth, the chill of the sweat that clung to the back of her neck as the fever-heat dissipated into the air—

She heard Loxley’s voice, felt his energy rocking against her like sonic waves as he approached, and in a voice that was too sharp with panic Piper snapped, “Don’t—!”

He did what she asked and stopped dead in his tracks, immediately, because of course he did. Nausea roiled through her again, turbulent and acidic, and Piper squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fingers into fists around handfuls of grass, breathing in through her nose and out her mouth to try to quell the sensation. Her head was down and she couldn’t see Loxley’s expression, but Piper knew him, and she knew exactly what it would be without having to look. “I’m sorry—” she managed to say, “—it’s just that I—there’s something wrong with my—it might not be safe for you to—”

And then all she could do was breathe, in and out and in and out, for several long minutes until the cacophony inside of her had settled enough that she could list to one side, and sit, and draw her knees up to her chest to hug them tight.

Tentatively, Loxley started moving toward her again. Piper blinked, once, and that’s all it took for the seal to break; tears streamed down her face, catching like dewdrops in her lashes and rolling down the sides of her throat. Her words came out frantic, staccatoed through choking sobs, “I didn’t mean to, I was just trying to show him because I couldn’t explain it, and I couldn’t bear the way he was looking at me, and I just didn’t know that would happen, I don’t even—I can’t understand why it was so—something feels broken, it’s more than just fingerprints and whispers of energy this time it’s—it’s solid and it’s stuck and it’s wrong, and I just want to put it back, please, I want to give it all back—”

He loved his people, but Loxley had a lot of people. He'd grown up just loving his dad, and now as an adult, he had more people than he could count that he cared for. It could be overwhelming at times, and so he cherished his time on the farm. He was working hard on independence. He had a girlfriend he loved who, due to the nature of her job, was away a lot. Loxley had to be comfortable with it being just him and Pearl and the majesty of the Earth.

He was in his little tent when he heard the tell tale sounds of apparation. Pearl lifted her head off his thigh lazily, expecting for him to get up and investigate, but her being a dog meant she already knew it was Piper. She could smell her. The fact Pearl wasn't even going to get up off the mattress told Loxley it was someone he liked, at least. He pulled on a hoodie and moved out to investigate. "Hey Pipes," He called out, before noticing the way she carried herself. "What's wrong babe?"

#woof sorry this is chaotic #p: loxley #old places make spaces #september 2020 #sprout country cottage #manchester #nausea cw #panic attack cw #overstimulation cw #dissociation cw #unreality cw #kind of? from piper's POV a bit so just to be safe

[peace-love-piper]

“A thousand emotions have swept through me tonight. I don’t comprehend half of them.”

— Kate Chopin, from “The Awakening,” originally published c. 1899 (via violentwavesofemotion)

#about #veela magic #old places make spaces

[peace-love-piper]

halfbreedhawkins​:

Penny let her brows knit together, didn’t bother hiding any sort of emotion on her face. It was useless with most Beingfolk who could pick up on the tinest emotional responses in another - like recognizing like - though the difference between wolves in comparison to Veela or Vampires was stark. 

“I should have asked at the very least, to see if she needed me to contact anyone else. I was just to caught up in all of it,” Penny finally offered, it was weak and she felt bad that Piper had been left in the dark so long. Anyone who loved Ains the way she ought to be loved was welcome in her house and on her lands.

So Penny blinked once, then twice. 

Then with a swiftness grabbed up Piper’s hands, enclosing them in her own, “That’s wonderful news!” Penny exclaimed, her entire chest cracking out with sudden brightness and emotion - joy. It was joy. “Oh this is amazing. My Morgana ! - yes please sit tell me everything. I think Ainsley must have not told me quite yet. If it’s so new and the work that has been happening with the Station! We hardly are in each others pocket they way we used to be at Hogwarts of course - practically attached at the hip we were. Things fall through the cracks - would you like some pie?”

Penny dragged Piper over to a seat and pushed her into it with enthusiasm, before coming around to pull a freshly warm blackberry pie from the windowsill. 

“I think you’re doing a fine job for someone who isn’t used to all this,” she waved to the claw cut walls and bobs of blonde-brown-black hair milling through the doorway and peering inside. None were straining to hear, and none of them holding back a single grin, the front door was flapping open. Likely someone had run off to find Ains in the woods and bring her post-haste. “Besides us Hawkins are an aquired taste, we’re always in each others pockets and hair and clothes and making a mess altogether. You’ll take a while to adjust if you decide to come around often- which you can, anytime you’d like and I’d be glad to have you.”

“Our Clan has always been open to home Ainsley - she’s one of ours, which means you are too if you’d like,” Penny panted in a fervor slicing up the pie for Piper and reaching for a flask of watered down wine to pour into a mason jar, “We Hawkins have always been one for picking up strays - be it birds, puppies or bats.” the blonde joked lightly, before leaning forward on the butcherblock countertops, “Of course we’ll take your aide if we ever need it… but if you ever find yourself in a tight pinch call a Hawkins and we’ll take care of you. If you’re part of Ainsley’s family then you’re part of ours!”

.

Warmth spread through Piper’s body from where Penny’s hands were clasped with hers, trickling pleasantly through her wrists, her forearms, her shoulders, her neck and her chest. It was like stepping into the first beam of morning sunlight that crested the horizon at dawn, banishing the chill of a long, brisk night. It made Piper feel bright and alive and tapped into the beating heart that pulsed in the air of this place, in the roots and the fertile earth beneath their feet, as if somehow Penny Hawkins taking her by the hands, offering her hospitality and acceptance, had plugged Piper into something intricate and interconnected and strong; a nervous system, a mycelium.

A pack, Piper thought with deference and awe, as she was ushered into a chair and delivered a slice of pie that was heaping with succulent, glistening berries.

“That’s so gracious of you all, I—I don’t know what to say…” Piper said through a swell of emotions that echoed through her body like light refracting through a prism; she distracted herself from getting overwhelmed by all of it by scooping some pie into her mouth with a fork, humming delightedly at the mouthwatering taste that lit up the taste buds all over her tongue. “This is incredible, seriously, wow…” she gushed, unable to help herself from devouring most of the slice and sipping on the sweet, mild wine before attempting to make conversation, even though she was aware that it was probably, dreadfully impolite.

Finally, with some concerted resolve, Piper set down the fork and pressed her hands together between her knees beneath the table, feeling flushed and full and still buzzing with that warm pulsing energy. “I imagine it must be my fault, that Ainsley hasn’t told you yet,” Piper explained, with a slight apologetic undertone, “There are some, erm…sensitive aspects, of our shared lineage, and—well, with all that nastiness with the Census business, I’m sure she was just…trying to keep me—keep us—safe. She’s like that, you know? Sorry, I mean, of course you know, just…she’s always going out of her way to protect and help others, without seeking any recognition in return, and I just—”

She could feel herself tearing up and she paused, blinking away the moisture in her eyes and breathing in through her nose to try to lift the weight in her chest. These worries had been troubling Piper ever since she’d heard about what happened at Boutons de Fleurs; was all of this her fault, for burdening Ainsley with the knowledge of their relation? Had someone discovered Ainsley and her mother’s ties to the mysterious Andries de Wit, the same ones that Piper and Emi had unearthed in Paris, and enacted hostility toward them that rightfully should have been aimed at Piper and Emi, at Embry and Élodie?

That fear, that dread, that Piper may have unintentionally put Ainsley—whose kinship, though still so new and fragile as a spring fawn, was profoundly important to Piper for reasons that she couldn’t even begin to fully grasp—at risk, that growing their relationship may have put a target on all their backs? It ate away at Piper like wood rot. She stared down at her own fingers fiddling in her lap, and swallowed. “Have there been any further, erm…developments? About what, or…or who, may have caused the fire?”

#p: penny #into the woods #september 2020 #the puppy shack

[peace-love-piper]

virtuoshosh·:

Shosh exchanged a look with Cass when Dani mentioned an auror who liked to sing Andrew Lloyd Webber, and raised a hand in front of her mouth to hide her burst of laughter before taking the package Rosalind handed to her and tearing into it like it was a Hanukkah present. The box’s contents—which were a gift from Verlie, along with a rather explicit handwritten note from the same—made Shosh immediately flush and squirm where she stood; she cleared her throat and tucked the package away before shuffling into the studio, in dire need of some music to occupy her now wandering thoughts.

She snickered at Rhett getting all hot and bothered, literally—relatable—and yelled to her flatmate over the noise of the fan a teasing, “Yeah, sure, the sweat!” She laughed again as she hung up her coat and scarf and peeled off her gloves before wandering behind her various synth rigs. To Cass, Shosh said, “What should we have her play?” But before they had a chance to discuss it, Dani joined them in the studio room and said, “Alright, Kraken Kids—d’ya know ‘Gold Guns Girls?’”

All of them grinned and nodded their assent, and Shosh was already motioning through the window for Eric—who’d found his way back from Stalagmite—to adjust the levels on her mic for Shosh to sing lead when Cass said, “Shosh, why don’t you take vocals…?” Rhett, still clad in just her underwear, took a seat on her drum stool and banged her drumsticks together to count them in, before Cass strummed the opening riff on his guitar and Dani came in on the accompanying phrase on the bass.

Cass and Dani played riffs back and forth, while Rhett came in with a frenetic drum beat. Shosh took her cue, holding some long chords with her right hand on the stunted synth keyboard before leaning toward the hanging microphone and singing, “All the gold and the guns in the world couldn’t get you off / All the gold and the guns and the girls couldn’t get you off…”

.

“Sorry,” Piper said apologetically to Rosalind, “We accidentally took a…shortcut, I guess?” Then Ros started talking contracts, which was usually when Piper tuned out—but her attention kept getting drawn back to Dani. Piper tried not to stare, she didn’t want to be rude, but there was something just so…curious, about her, that Piper couldn’t seem to shake. Like they were connected, in some way that Piper couldn’t even begin to untangle.

She felt that seed of Paxton’s presence, too, that she’d tried so hard to ignore, sprouting to the surface as if to greet Dani’s energy like it was a wellspring—

Eric joined them in the room, breathless, saying something about getting turned around in the caverns down here. And Dani, who had signed the contract while Piper was in a daze, went to join the other musicians in the studio; so Piper shook off all the strange feelings, for now.

The band started to play, and Piper smiled, her worries drifting further away as she absorbed herself in the music. Eric was nodding in clear approval, fiddling with some levers before commenting, “Damn, I think you pulled off another miracle here, P—her and Cass sound like they’ve been playing together for years…”

Piper grinned at Eric appreciatively, and then turned to Rosalind to say, “What do you think? Will it be a good fit?” After all they’d been through, the last thing Piper wanted to do was push the band in the wrong direction, or encourage anything they weren’t ready for. But she would trust Rosalind’s judgment on the matter.

Stalagmite was the best of the many Den venues, with clean bathrooms and clean water; sound was good, the place safe if you ignored the jutting rocks coming up from the floor. The Clinic hated Stalagmite and the rotating crowd surfers who came out of the shows with with puncture wounds from getting dropped wrong onto the jutting rocks. Dani had scars from her own days in the crowd. But now her view consisted of screaming fans, heavy bass riffs, and her name being chanted back at her.

Last song, she had to make it count. The Terrified Jones paid her fifteen galleons to do a cover job, she had two days to learn the material and announce her joining the band for a few shows. Guest player.

Dani winked at Val just in front of the barricade, arms enclosing the little Veela the were-jag called an annoyance currently dancing her ass off to The Terrified Jones lead singer, whose voice was cracking every time he tried to hit a new note. The smoke was intense on stage, the stage lights flashing piss yellow and neon purple - the band's atrocious choice. But the money, the stage, and cheers as the band walked off and Dani heard her name being yelled. Well, it felt better than whatever shit emo rock band from Belfast could pay her.

Dani went straight for the bar, bass slung low on her hips and the bartender immediately started throwing together a triple gin and honey mix. The fae felt eyes on her and turned to the small group hovering and whispering.

Flashing her most coy smile, Dani ran her fingers through her sweaty tumble of hair - "Need an autograph, or maybe a photo eh? Admiring my good looks are we?" Dani flipped the bartender a half sickle and took her drinks, "Hope y'all enjoyed the show and everything; merch is to the back. Unless of 'course ya want something else from me. Which is fortunate for you all as I do groups, but you'll need to provide the space."

#c: dani #c: rhett #c: cass #c: shoshana #december 2020 #the band cthulhu #white witch studios #den of magic #eric #c: rosalind

[peace-love-piper]

paxton-aeterna​:

No different from holding hands with a friend, Paxton reminded himself–no different from Piper, before. His thoughts collapsed with a dismal accordion groan, unfolded again–

as Piper’s presence exploded through his head, a comet racing through the blackness of space, blazing hot, not fear but a rocketing hope, eager hungry desperate and there was yes, fear, a child’s cry of PLEASE, NO, I DON’T the tail of the comet a reckless whip of desperate faith, a gamble, hoping desperately that I DON’T UNDERSTAND staggering guilt, looping, twisting itself inside out over and over what have i and over and over what am i WHAT AM I and over again and the fear itself, a furious refusal no get out of I DON’T I DON’T UNDERSTAND the promise a constant oppression the promised ease of it’s just hands hold on

i don’t understand. please. why

The labyrinth collapsed around them, like a shattered hall of mirrors, like the painted set of a stage play. The little sitting room revealed itself dark and quiet around them. For a breath, all they did was look at one another, swaying drunkenly. There you are. Here I am. It was as if Piper had broken a wall between him and the world. No—between him and her.

Now that wall had come up again, and the resulting silence felt just as violent as the—whatever that had been. He felt like he was two days into a ghastly fever, sweating, with a headache that made him deliriously dizzy and skin that ached everywhere, like, between his toes. His vision had spots going off like afterimages. His body said: get down or I’ll put you down, so he sat hard and missed the edge of the sofa, tumbling ungracefully to the rug.

Paxton was half-hoping she’d say see, this was Veelan magic–and he just didn’t understand it! The magic worked like this but not like that, magic had understandable rules, magic had a system, an order, a reason, magic was just another steel beam in the soaring superstructure of the universe he’d spent so much time trying to divine—but Piper’s face only paled, her hand flying upwards.

A silent horror dawned slowly across Pax’s face, his gaze soaring out a thousand miles.

“Okay, look. I’m a little…upset,“ Pax said, approaching the word like a foreign language—halting, at an angle. His shoulders rose as he inhaled shakily, plunging through every emotion he’d felt in the past five minutes. He could feel it better now that he’d been in it: Piper’s presence pulled on Pax’s consciousness, an almost imperceptible tilt; their own private gravity, locking him in orbit around her. He started to shiver, back pressed hard against the edge of the sofa. “That was so—I can’t—I need a lie-down. Something for my head—”

Piper nodded her head slowly, her eyes wide and wary and locked on Pax’s crumpled form on the floor, looking like prey that’s realized it’s just stumbled out into its predators’ open hunting grounds; her hair bobbed along with her head, shifting coral to saffron and back again as it caught the light, a few strands sticking out around her head as if by static. Yes, he was upset—if there was any one single thing in this moment that did not need stating, it was that. Piper knew—so deeply and thoroughly that it seemed to penetrate down to her bone marrow, tangling up in her very own permutable essence—what Pax was feeling; she knew because she could feel it, all of it, still, even now, vibrating through her like earthquake tremors.

She wondered in semi-coherence if she would ever again not feel it.

“I’m—so sorry, Paxton…” Piper repeated, pointlessly, her voice breaking, “…I never intended to—”

“Honey, I’m home!” A voice rang out from the other room, barreling unknowingly into the intimate intensity of the moment. It was Oz, and Maeko, returned from their errand; their muffled voices, talking casually, drew closer to where Piper and Pax were frozen in time, until they reached the door of the sitting room and abruptly stopped.

“…alright in here, you two?” Maeko wagered dubiously, after a hesitant moment.

There was another pregnant beat of silence, and then Piper tried to say something to mitigate the situation, to explain, but it came out as a sob, instead. She flushed and shook her head apologetically, covering her mouth with her hands.

Maeko and Oz, unsure of what to do and what exactly they’d missed, here, looked between Piper and Pax, and each other. Oz’s attention was fairly focused on Pax, like he wanted to go to him—he even took a step in Paxton’s direction before Maeko cut him a very sharp look that communicated something quite strongly, which had Oz then backtracking and moving over to Piper to gather her up into his arms and usher her gently into another room, muttering soft and comforting words that were too quiet to make out above a lilted hum.

Piper went willingly, pliant and without protest, but her eyes never once strayed from Pax, until she was out of the room.

Maeko, as only she seemed able to, moved cat-like and silent within her home, never so much as creaking over a loose board on the ancient flooring. She crouched down in front of Paxton and her penetrating gaze swept over him, her brows knitting together with some emotion that went deeper than simple concern, something that was rooted in memory and years of shared history.

“Hey,” she said. Her voice was low and direct and just to him. It wasn’t quite sharp, but it was to the point; like a snap of fingers to get someone’s attention. She placed one of her hands near Pax’s knee and squeezed lightly, and the gesture looked—not quite instinctive, for her, but like a movement intentionally practiced enough to look natural, like something that used to require some consideration and now came easily. “What’s that about?”

#p: pax #p: oz #p: maeko #old places make spaces #borgin and burkes #knockturn alley

[peace-love-piper]

Imogen Poots Need for Speed (2014)

#face

[peace-love-piper]

#about #family #embry #elodie #the de wit group #headcanon #this is embry and elodie as kids in the de wit group JUST SAYING

[peace-love-piper]

faeroyce·:

fu-imrhett·:

Rhett was so excited to be in a venue again that she almost forgot she was meant to be incognito, but it was hard to completely forget when she was dressed from ankle to nose in cloaks and scarves and hats. The look didn’t lend itself to attending gigs and it didn’t lend itself to Rhett’s internal body heat. She didn’t want to be sweating this much when she was finally meeting with a musician she admired, but apparently fans were already speculating that they were planning on getting back together. Their little stalkers were putting pictures on the internet about it, but the label wanted it to be a big surprise.

She whined softly when Shosh didn’t let her make a rude joke. Dani’s online persona seemed like she’d love that kind of joke. It was a little surreal meeting her in person. She was so… short? Maybe even shorter than Sol.

She was trying to work out what she was, too, but Cass was being obvious. Even if she did appreciate his Vampire knowledge. Rhett couldn’t place her either, but one thing was for sure. “Not a Werewolf or Vampire or a Veela but definitely something that can hear you, dumbass!” She tried to say it quietly, but ended up with more pairs of eyes on her than just Cass’s. “Uh, sorry. Hi. I’m Rhett. I love your YouTube videos.” She mumbled, face red. She was jumping from foot to foot by the time Cass suggested going somewhere more quiet to chat. “Pleeease I’m drowning in my own sweat! I didn’t want to meet you like this Dani, but we have to be mysterious or some shit.”

.

Dani felt like her head was spinning, round and round propelling her up and up as her brows knitted together and she looked over the horrendous disguises as they each attempted to introduce or attempt to make a case for … hiring her?

Their EP had gotten good plays, it was always requested at Mersey Grille, the only person she knew who didn’t like it was Delilah but Val’s girl was a goddamn snob anyway. But even Dani knew it was missing something, a bass, but she wasn’t going to say that outloud to the growing legion of Cuthulu girlies who wore hand-made shirts and cried over Rhett’s arms. 

Dani looked over each poorly wrapped up, sweating, and blushing member of the band that was the hottest new thing on the block and turned to the bar, “Be a doll and make me a mix-to-go, I’ve gotta dip.”

“Avoid Sandstone, Aurors are lurking again, they’d love to add you to the mantle.” 

Dani nodded, took her drink and squinted at the wall beside the bar, with a shimmer a small door appeared and the bartender squawked annoyed with her blatant magic use. “Aight Kraken Kids lets go talk some business, since you need me ‘n’ my bass for hire.” She held the door open and they shuffled through into a new alleyway, they were somewhere between the Clinic and Stalagmite. She blinked a bit and the door behind them sealed shut.

“Couple of things - don’t speculate on folk’s Being blood, lots of folk are mixed up all hodge-podgey and it’s rude. Two, I’m not lookin’ for representation I do pretty well myself so you can put away your beautiful smile away, that magic don’t work on me. Three - Rhett, please for the love of Morgana le Fey strip down you’re making me sweat and not just cause the biggest goddamn band on the radio waves is at my shitty show asking me for a private meeting that doesn’t include sex.”

Dani folded her arm across her chest and looked them up and down. 

“Yer tryna shark me,” she said pointedly, bluntly and looked each of them in the eye, “I’m flattered, really, but other bands have asked me to be their bassist but they don’t pay me well or treat me well so I always end up leaving.” Dani sucked in a short breath, still unblinking, leaning back into the mossy brick of the alleyway that had muscled into the space. “Freelancing is working for me, and Youtube is too. I’m not sure why you even need a proper bassist, yeah your sound needs rounding out, parts end up far too pitched and the rhythm can’t just be held by the drummer alone. So - why me, other than because Rhett is the most handsome fangirl I’ve ever had,” Dani winked and tugged at the collar of her own ragged anime crop top that was practically slicked to her skin, “seriously my friend, clothes off I’m getting claustrophobic and I live in a fucking sewer. I don’t know a single were who isn’t a walking fuckin’ sun.”

Piper only had a moment to stare in wonder at the strange door that disappeared into the cavern wall before she was being addressed by the spunky bassist. Her brow crinkled in confusion and she said, “My—?” and then Piper flushed as she realized Dani thought Piper was intentionally trying to Charm her, and that she'd been identified so instantaneously as a Veela. “Oh! Oh, no, that’s not what I—”

But Dani ignored Piper’s protests in favor of willfully chattering on, not letting any of them get a word in edgewise until she’d finished speaking and all of their heads were spinning.

Or, at least, Piper’s was; she could certainly feel the young woman’s energy, which meant the bass player wasn’t Veelan. And Dani was a Being, to be sure, but—try as she might, Piper couldn’t place the energy. It was…lulling, almost. Hypnotic, in a way that drew Piper’s attention, sparkling and distracting—but then seemed to distort, feeling eerie and somehow not-quite-right, the longer she focused on it.

Shosh, who’d been staring at Piper impatient and expectantly, gave an audible, annoyed huff and a roll of her eyes before interjecting herself, “Please—you literally just listed all the reasons why we do need a proper bassist, and we all know what negging is, so why don’t we play this straight—we want you because you’ve got talent, and it's being wasted playing with other bands who clearly don't appreciate what you can do. And you're undervaluing yourself if you limit your art to freelancing and YouTube—I mean, do you really want to be a sewer vlogger your whole life? Don’t you want something more?”

Piper brushed her fingers over her temple, sighing; a little brusque, maybe, but the keyboardist wasn't wrong. She gestured a hand through the air, and in a gentler tone than her young client, Piper added, “We’re not trying to ‘shark’ you, or imply that all bassists are interchangeable—quite the opposite, really. If you’re happy here, doing what you’re doing, then far be it for any of us to interfere, but…I believe that you have something very special, Dani. And I think you'd be a great fit for this band. All we're offering here is…an opportunity. To be a part of something great…” She looked at each of the band members in turn, pride and affection shining in her eyes, before looking back at Dani. “…but if it’s not for you, we’re not here to force you. Perhaps you’d be willing to just—give it a try?”

@casshasfangs·

Stalagmite was the best of the many Den venues, with clean bathrooms and clean water; sound was good, the place safe if you ignored the jutting rocks coming up from the floor. The Clinic hated Stalagmite and the rotating crowd surfers who came out of the shows with with puncture wounds from getting dropped wrong onto the jutting rocks. Dani had scars from her own days in the crowd. But now her view consisted of screaming fans, heavy bass riffs, and her name being chanted back at her.

Last song, she had to make it count. The Terrified Jones paid her fifteen galleons to do a cover job, she had two days to learn the material and announce her joining the band for a few shows. Guest player.

Dani winked at Val just in front of the barricade, arms enclosing the little Veela the were-jag called an annoyance currently dancing her ass off to The Terrified Jones lead singer, whose voice was cracking every time he tried to hit a new note. The smoke was intense on stage, the stage lights flashing piss yellow and neon purple - the band's atrocious choice. But the money, the stage, and cheers as the band walked off and Dani heard her name being yelled. Well, it felt better than whatever shit emo rock band from Belfast could pay her.

Dani went straight for the bar, bass slung low on her hips and the bartender immediately started throwing together a triple gin and honey mix. The fae felt eyes on her and turned to the small group hovering and whispering.

Flashing her most coy smile, Dani ran her fingers through her sweaty tumble of hair - "Need an autograph, or maybe a photo eh? Admiring my good looks are we?" Dani flipped the bartender a half sickle and took her drinks, "Hope y'all enjoyed the show and everything; merch is to the back. Unless of 'course ya want something else from me. Which is fortunate for you all as I do groups, but you'll need to provide the space."

#c: dani #c: rhett #c: cass #december 2020 #den of magic #c: shoshana #the band cthulhu