Holland
Then I’d love to join
Fri Mar 17, 2017 10:24
173.167.204.220

“Well, you sounded like you were enjoying it,” said Holland. “That makes music sound good.” At least as far as Holland was concerned. They could identify wrong notes in a song they knew well, and they could usually tell when sounds were gratingly out of tune, but mistakes like that didn’t matter with a musician who liked the music enough. “We had to pick an instrument at my elementary school, so I played the oboe for about two years until I came here. I did not enjoy it and it did not sound good,” they added, cracking a smile. They’d quit the woodwinds immediately on arriving at RMI, because they didn’t care one single reed about the oboe.

“I can sing a little, but I’m not super musically talented.” Holland had a decent voice; nothing special, but not half bad. The terms for voice parts were gendered, and Holland didn’t know or care enough about producing music to define their voice part by the notes they could hit. They usually said both contralto and countertenor to indicate they were somewhere between the two, both in terms of range and gender. Marissa had tried to convince them to audition for the shows a few times, but Holland was still waiting for RMI to put the right role on the table. They would absolutely go out for the Emcee in Cabaret or even Teen Angel in Grease, but none of the shows so far had sparked their interest.

A backstage role played to their skills and interests better. “Hair and makeup is more my thing, as far as artistic ability goes.” And charms and clothing, to a degree—at least, they thought those areas counted as forms of creative expression, even if charms was scientific and Holland designed outfits rather than articles of clothing. But hair and makeup was their ballpark. Holland’s hair was coral today, matching some of the accent colors on their high-waisted shorts. Their lipstick also matched that shade, and they’d contoured as usual and applied winged eyeliner.

They glanced somewhat appraisingly at Claudia. Her hair was shoulder length and blonde; a dark blonde, but still lighter than Danny’s brunette. Holland vaguely remembered Claudia wearing simple braids or ponytails, although her hair was down now. She didn’t have any makeup on—not surprising, pureblood second-year—but Holland was pretty sure they had a lovely shade of lipstick in their stage kit that would go well with Claudia’s complexion and pastel outfit. “So I couldn’t play for you, but I can totally do your makeup or braid your hair sometime, if you want,” Holland offered.

  • Room? Yes. - Claudia, Tue Mar 14 17:08
    The someone was Holland, a… person in Danny’s year. Claudia had misunderstood about Holland for a number of years, but then she had only been eight when she’d first been introduced to the concept of... more
    • Then I’d love to join - Holland, Fri Mar 17 10:24
      • I suppose you are welcome - Claudia, Sat Mar 18 16:21
        “That makes two of us,” Claudia replied, with the ghost of a smile, when Holland denied being especially musically talented. Playing the piano to meet only her own low standards for musical aptitude... more
        • Don’t mind if I do - Holland, Fri Mar 24 11:37
          Having just heard the second-year playing, Holland categorically disagreed with Claudia’s statement about her musical ability. Claudia wasn’t going to play Carnegie Hall any time soon, but she was... more
          • I've decided I don't mind, either - Claudia, Tue Mar 28 15:36
            The sound of the chair screeching across the floor with no audible spell cast as a warning made Claudia jump. An additional side-effect of her surprise was that when she realised Holland meant to... more
            • I’m glad to hear it - Holland, Mon Apr 3 19:57
              “I do,” they said, applying the foundation and blending it with a makeup sponge. Holland moved closer to the edge of their chair. It made a squeaking noise that wasn’t quite as offensive as the sound ... more
              • I Feel Pretty - Claudia, Tue Apr 4 14:53
                Claudia could see how it might be fun to apply make-up to others. Sort of like artwork, she imagined, except your canvas was a walking, talking expression, that could perhaps compliment you (or... more
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