❝It's Body and Soul,

precious divine energy

·•●j a z z . e m b o d i e d --

    Camille Sabrina Lafaye. Bassist, aspiring song writer and singer. New Orleans born, grown in Detroit. 24, living in Harlem. You can find me bringin' folks drinks at the coffee house up the street.
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■■[IND RP ACCOUNT]■■
■[FC - ESPERANZA SPALDING]■
--mun is 21+ muse is of age unless otherwise stated [nsfw is pretty sparse, but may show up and NOT under readmores.] Multiverse ; singleship. If you'd like to plot or just start a roleplay feel free to message me!
tracking: camillelafaye, rpcamillelafaye

itschrisshiflett:

Chris was taken aback by her flat and sudden response. “I’m leaving” rung through his head like an alarm clock he couldn’t shut off. Standing in the room for a small quiet moment, he tried to decide what he could say back, but maybe her mind was already made. With Camille, that’s how it was, when she made up her mind, it was made up.

"W-where are you going?" he asked for some reason afraid of the answer. This was possibly the resolution to the problem. Chris definitely didn’t want it because he still cared for his friend. Most of the reason was possibly because of her break up with Dave and since Chris had recently learned about that, he wanted to just help, which is why he ended the arguing. But now he feels as if he won’t get that chance.

      Her feet’s movements came to a halt, all too quickly. The small clicks of her heels diminished in their echoes just as soon as they had began, as though the stuttered question at her back was a tether that snatched and kept her in place.

  “Whea’ you thank I’m goin’?” She asked, spinning as the intensity of conflict rose in her again. Her breaths rang as the only source of sound between them for a moment, after the reverbs of her voice halted their ringing, “I’m takin’ ma ass home. HOME. So I ain’t gotta see HIM, he ain’t gotta see ME, I ain’t gotta see COURTNEY an’ BEAT HER ASS,an’ I ain’t gotta stay in dis DIRTY, MEAN ASS, COL’, SNOWIN’ EVERY-GODDAMN-SEASON PLACE! I’m takin’ ma swamp ass HOME, ALRIGHT?”

I seem to be really fucking up in the talking to ppl I care about arena and I’m 2 for 2 for coming off like a total cunt while doing so so I’m breaking from here for a while and I’m just gonna maintain radio silence until after I’m back from church.
it’s “try to” not “try and”

"try to" would translate a doubt in my ability and means

"try and" implies a more positive outlook and my determination to make the after mentioned goal more established to whomever read what i posted.

and that’s just how i talk, school isn’t for another 3 weeks man. 

im gonna try and build up some proper music tags since I have a musical bby
Feel Like Funkin' It Up - Rebirth Brass Band | 7,391 plays

songsfromtreme:

Rebirth Brass Band - Feel Like Funkin’ It Up

First song during the second line, kicking off the episode.

reblog if you want your followers to tell you one thing they secretly think about you.

• Ferry Cross The Mersey •

georgeharrisonbeatle:

There were a number of things George found surreal as the ferry finally began moving at its slow pace alongside the banks of the river. He could only just remember bits and pieces of the last time he took a ride over the Mersey; it had been with the boys and it was a fairly long time ago. Maybe a couple of years to some, but to him it felt like a lifetime. He had grown so fond of his home in London, he hadn’t stopped to recall his earlier life, or the fun he’d had in those days. It was difficult to tune in, to grab flashes over memories from his head. It wasn’t the same anymore - it never would be that easy a second time ‘round.

He was very fond of believing in second chances and they more or less worked out for him, but as the years progressed and he realised he had taken so long in returning home, there was a part of him that felt as though he was unworthy. He’d had two homes in this city, along with many a great night on the town with people he would remember for the rest of his life - yet there was still something missing. And as he sat calmly in his place onboard the ferry as it made it began to turn, ready to dock on the opposite side of the Mersey — he thought long and hard about why he had chosen to come back, knowing there was nothing here.

At least, he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Friends he once knew were probably long gone, off to other countries by now. There was no hope of reaching them and he didn’t much want to go snooping just to find out. Besides, they’d not recognise him. He was no longer the shy little boy he used to be, with the mop-head of hair and cheeky litte grin; considered himself to be someone who was a bit on the quiet side, naturally, but not as wrapped up in a shell as he once was as a young lad. Time had done him one favour at least and he was ever so thankful for it. If he had remained secluded, he wouldn’t be leading the life he had now. And he wouldn’t be as happy as he was, right at this moment, despite his nagging misery.

Intrigue flooded through him and he raised his head some to watch the young woman who took a seat beside him. From the corner of his eye, he noticed her fiddling about with what looked to be a fairly expensive camera and couldn’t help but crack a smile. It only brightened when she spoke up, catching him off guard some, but not enough that he forgot how to use his voice. “Oh aye — been away.. quite a while” he spoke only the truth, feeling there was no real need for sugarcoating anything when conversing with a stranger. Someone who would not judge him over the choices he had made in life. It was perhaps the best idle chatter that anyone could have with another person. “Seven or eight years, to be exact.”

"An’ you, love?" he asked, finally turning his body toward her so she had his full attention if she wanted to indulge in the conversation a little more. "Are you just visiting? On a little bit of a holiday, maybe?"

image

           She lent him an attentive ear, visible from the slowed movements that replaced the previous animation that saw her nearly ricocheting from one end of the massive vessel to the other. Her back, without her notice, relaxed against the rest of her seat and under the tepid swell of his aura next to her boisterous and juvenile own. The hue of his voice held an element of experience that she’d only been previously aware of in the elders in her small corner or New Orleans: the heavyset and well aged women that rarely would leave their porches, or the friendly-eyed men who were never without their walking canes and crisp suspenders… the ones who shouted their greetings to all they laid eyes on.

It was a bewildering sight, something of a paradox. He didn’t seem too very much older than she… yet his placid accent and cool eyes held a spirit of someone who had lived a full and well-spanned life.

Camille wasn’t certain if this growing perplexity was as plainly visible on her face as it was within her thoughts, but she tried, to a certain degree, to mask it. She attempted to mild her face to anyone who possibly could have been looking on—which, oddly enough, quite a few passengers seemed to have their eye on him. Tentativeness swept over her, and she drew her lips in, biting them so that they were held in place curled by her teeth as she attempted to supplement some element of aloofness about herself—to seem more as if she were merely meeting a stranger on this ferry rather than already deep in a need to discover what could have brought him to this level of maturity. Though, in her effort to make herself seem less like a child, Camille could sense some deeper hue to his speaking, and behind the light of his eyes.

Or it could have been the words themselves, she wasn’t sure. A sudden snap of her consciousness also brought it to her mind that it was none of her business. That tinge of melancholy that brushed over his words would be left for him to acknowledge if he so pleased. Camille had learned the lesson too many times that the south held its own protocol with assumptions and gossip, though she had already slipped once and greeted him in this very manner, and she feared that little time would see her doing it again. For now, at least, she would leave it alone.

After all, he’d asked her something in return a while before.

   ”Mhmm, I’m jus’ visitin’. I been wantin’ t’come to England fa a long while,” she answered, easily inflating back into the summery foreigner that she had approached him as. A small wrinkle of her nose accentuated her minor confusion at his colloquialism, “…what holiday is it..?”

 

okay I will do replies and another open starter tomorrow and try to get Camille acquainted with everyone new cx

T-Boz, Estelle, Esperanza, Monica, and Kimbra featured in Janelle Monáe’s new music video "Electric Lady"