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@hummel-kit-blog
frankiehudson:
hummel-kit:
badassnorah:
frankiehudson:
Maybe you should come back?
I agree with Big Mama here.
yeah, well … i’ve kind of gotten used to not getting thrown into lockers i guess
maybe if things ever get better there
Puck and I can be your bodyguards!
well ... i don't know
i'll think about it
maybe
badassnorah:
frankiehudson:
hummel-kit:
yeah, at least at mckinley i got to sing real words i guess …
Maybe you should come back?
I agree with Big Mama here.
yeah, well ... i've kind of gotten used to not getting thrown into lockers i guess
maybe if things ever get better there
frankiehudson replied to your post: frankiehudson said: Jengas? Like the game? I love Jenga. :)
ohhhh right
yeah, at least at mckinley i got to sing real words i guess ...
straightupsantiago replied to your post: i am officially starting a petition for metric at competition
but dude, that’s the best part.
har de har
frankiehudson said: Jengas? Like the game? I love Jenga. :)
no, like my part in this song
the game would be better
i am officially starting a petition for metric at competition
i am
so
tired
of
jengas
[Open Thread, Jessica at the park]
jessica-stjames:
hummel-kit:
Kit winces — it’s the first time she’s ever said anything about not liking Dalton, or at least the Warblers, and Jessica’s dour retort is kind of a mixed bag. The suggestion that maybe she’s the one who’s too good is … welcome, to say the least; Kit has never been too good for anyone, at least in anyone’s opinion but her own, she’s sure. But, all the same, it’s not exactly reassuring. “I’m not being fake,” she retorts, even if she is, and she knows it. “I just — that’s not it, I have to be a team player, the Warblers are a lot different than New Directions.” She jerks her chin up, a little defiant. “They remind me a little of Vocal Adrenaline, honestly.” Crush on Blair or no, there’s a pang of guilt in her stomach like she’s trying to get in a low blow, and Kit grimaces uncomfortably on her edge of the bench. Jessica isn’t the one telling her to keep her arms down. “Blair’s just trying to help.”
Jessica can’t hold back the laugh at Kit’s words. Everything she was saying was so completely ridiculous that for a moment she wondered if the lack of real performance had driven the other girl mad.
“Please. Your little group of old ladies bopping to a mindless top 40’s tune is nothing like Vocal Adrenaline. For one, we had real talent and secondly we didn’t back down in order to support a star. Yes, I was the main attraction - and for good reason - but anyone of the others would have killed me in my sleep for their chance to shine and they tried everything they could think of to beat me. No one accepted things for the way they were.”
Pushing herself up off the stool she sways on her feet for a second, unsure why she’s so tired. But the moment is lost, any sense of easiness she felt is gone and suddenly she feels even more stressed then she did before the started singing. But at the same time, she doesn’t really want to leave.
Unsure of what to do with herself she hovers between the piano and music books. It wasn’t often that Jessica showed if she was unsure or uneasy and the idea of not having a distinct purpose was off putting.
“You know what, believe whatever you want but all Blair is trying to do is change you.” She hovers for a second longer before slowly heading towards the door. “I need to do something.”
Even if she wasn’t sure what she meant by that, she knew she couldn’t keep feeling like she was doing absolutely nothing.
"The Warblers hold auditions!" Kit flushes red when a librarian peeks around a row of shelves to shush her, and she gently lowers the lid of the piano so she can fold her arms across it and rest her head. "They hold auditions for all the solos and they take a vote, it's -- it's very fair. Blair's just ..." She swallows hard. "Well, obviously Blair deserves them."
She doesn't move when Jessica stands, just keeps her head in her arms on the piano. She's not really the person she used to be, not at school, at least, or anywhere with Blair, for all the good it's done her. No solos, no girlfriend, and the regular weekend rehearsals in Westerfield mean she's hardly seen any of her friends in weeks.
"She's just trying to help me fit in." The words don't feel right coming out of Kit's mouth, but she feels obligated to defend Blair all the same. Defensively, she adds, "Just because nobody's ever liked you enough to show you the same courtesy, you don't have to go tearing her down."
Not, Kit thinks, that someone like Jessica has ever needed the help.
"I'm going to practice," she huffs. "I hope you have a nice weekend, creeping around."
[Open Thread, Jessica at the park]
jessica-stjames:
hummel-kit:
Kit can’t resist the urge to roll her eyes, lips quirking up in a faint smirk. “A healthy sense of self-importance is … good, I guess.”
Adequate is the best she seems to be able to do lately and she swallows a faint sigh, brushing her bangs back from her face. She wouldn’t usually apologize, no, but she usually wouldn’t find herself desperate enough for company to go sulking around with someone like Jessica St. James either.
“I’ve been told I can be a little — abrasive,” she says sullenly, twisting her skirt in her fists again before she smooths it restlessly back down over her skinny jeans. And, without thinking, she blurts out, “Blair said I should try harder to fit in with the Warblers.” She pauses and clears her throat. ”Being a bitch isn’t really the best way to make friends at a new school, I’ve learned.”
Jessica holds back from rolling her eyes before remembering that her face in turned towards the ground so Kit can’t see her anyway. Still, she grits her teeth and restrains herself.
She knew it would start to head this way. Show one moment of kindness and soon enough you’re bestest friends! And then suddenly all these secrets and feelings will be shared and you’ll skip happily though fields holding hands and singing out of tune. Okay so maybe not, but still.
Even though Kit hadn’t said much yet Jessica knew how it would go. Kit and her were alike in many ways, apparently the desire to unload onto someone was not of them. In fact, it was something Jessica had never had the time to do. Still, she didn’t have the energy to come up with some snarky remark and leave, but she also didn’t have it in her to be completely nice.
“Yes, because holding yourself back - essentially being fake - is such a wonderful basis for friendships. These Warblers sound far below your level, and so much so below mine it’s ridiculous to even be thinking about them. Conform if you want Hummel but it’s nothing but a waste of time and talent. No one at the top conforms.”
Kit winces -- it's the first time she's ever said anything about not liking Dalton, or at least the Warblers, and Jessica's dour retort is kind of a mixed bag. The suggestion that maybe she's the one who's too good is ... welcome, to say the least; Kit has never been too good for anyone, at least in anyone's opinion but her own, she's sure. But, all the same, it's not exactly reassuring. "I'm not being fake," she retorts, even if she is, and she knows it. "I just -- that's not it, I have to be a team player, the Warblers are a lot different than New Directions." She jerks her chin up, a little defiant. "They remind me a little of Vocal Adrenaline, honestly." Crush on Blair or no, there's a pang of guilt in her stomach like she's trying to get in a low blow, and Kit grimaces uncomfortably on her edge of the bench. Jessica isn't the one telling her to keep her arms down. "Blair's just trying to help."
[Open Thread, Jessica at the park]
jessica-stjames:
hummel-kit:
“Once more with feeling.” Kit swallows a wry chuckle and drops her hands to her lap, toying with the hem of her skirt. “Sing with conviction, that’s always important.” It’s difficult, she remembers, to sing background noise with any level of conviction. “You were always really good, last year.” She taps her fingers idly on her knees, staring down at her hands; it’s easier to sing than to talk, she finds, especially with Jessica. But there are only so many songs — well, not really, but there’s only so long they can … sing, and not talk, even in the middle of the Lima Library. “Thanks for not laughing,” she says lightly after a long, awkward pause. “About the Disney and all. Or … whatever.” About everything. “I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a bitch.”
“I wasn’t just good. I was the best.” Remembering those days still makes Jessica feel strange. She can’t quite decide if it’s sadness or just an unusual sense of nostalgia. Either way, something that was only a year ago feels like a thousand. “I still am.”
Resting her elbows on her knees she slouches over the piano. For some reason she suddenly feels very tired. Not just tired, exhausted, as if she hadn’t slept for days.
“Why would I laugh? It’s a perfectly adequate song choice. And since when did you apologise for being a bitch, Hummel?” She doesn’t have the energy to look up so instead she just speaks to the floor. “Being a bitch is a natural defense for people like us. It keeps us sane.”
Kit can't resist the urge to roll her eyes, lips quirking up in a faint smirk. "A healthy sense of self-importance is ... good, I guess."
Adequate is the best she seems to be able to do lately and she swallows a faint sigh, brushing her bangs back from her face. She wouldn't usually apologize, no, but she usually wouldn't find herself desperate enough for company to go sulking around with someone like Jessica St. James either.
"I've been told I can be a little -- abrasive," she says sullenly, twisting her skirt in her fists again before she smooths it restlessly back down over her skinny jeans. And, without thinking, she blurts out, "Blair said I should try harder to fit in with the Warblers." She pauses and clears her throat. "Being a bitch isn't really the best way to make friends at a new school, I've learned."
[Open Thread, Jessica at the park]
jessica-stjames:
Jessica knos how much that compliment is supposed to mean coming from Kit, but they both knew she was more than decent. Still, the way she said it was what had Jessica smirking. She seemed almost timid, the blush almost deepening. Or maybe Jessica was just paying more attention to it, either way Kit was embarrassed about something.
The tune Kit plays does something to soften Jessica even further, allowing her to hold back from calling the other girl out on how odd she was acting. Instead she just watches Kit play.
“Things always sound different when the song actually means something to the person singing it. You can tell when someone has real emotion.”
"Once more with feeling." Kit swallows a wry chuckle and drops her hands to her lap, toying with the hem of her skirt. "Sing with conviction, that's always important." It's difficult, she remembers, to sing background noise with any level of conviction. "You were always really good, last year." She taps her fingers idly on her knees, staring down at her hands; it's easier to sing than to talk, she finds, especially with Jessica. But there are only so many songs -- well, not really, but there's only so long they can ... sing, and not talk, even in the middle of the Lima Library. "Thanks for not laughing," she says lightly after a long, awkward pause. "About the Disney and all. Or ... whatever." About everything. "I'm sorry I've been kind of a bitch."
[Open Thread, Jessica at the park]
jessica-stjames:
Jessica doesn’t open her eyes throughout the entire song, instead concentrating her energy on her voice. Every note sounds perfect and when Kit picks up the harmony there is a certain beauty about the way their voices blend together. It’s different from how Jessica usually sounds. Not a strong, powerful voice but a gentle one. Almost sweet.
Nevertheless it carries across the room just as well. Jessica likes to think the people around her can feel the emotion. The love behind the words. At last, all the tension from her shoulders has completely left her, leaving only a sense of happiness.
She cringes at how pathetic that sounds, even to herself.
Playing out the last few notes she lets them hang in the air for a moment before eventually opening her eyes. Glancing sideways she can see Kit with a most definite flush covering her cheeks. Raising her eyebrows questioningly she turns to look the other girl in the face.
“Was I that good?”
"You were, uh," Kit mumbles uselessly, pursing her lips a little in frustration -- it's stupid, blushing is stupid, blushing around Jessica St. James, who she doesn't like, and who doesn't like her, is particularly stupid. "I like that song, is all." She shrugs it off -- it's true, she does -- and drops her fingers on the keys, picking out Clair de Lune quietly. "But you were decent enough, I guess." High praise from Kit, or at least she thinks so, given the generally adversarial nature of their interaction so far. She swings her legs a little, toes dragging across the thick carpet. "You sound a lot different than you usually do."
[Open Thread, Jessica at the park]
jessica-stjames:
hummel-kit:
They sound nice together — nicer than Kit would have expected, and they don’t fight for the melody, though maybe her weeks with the Warblers have made her a little less inclined to do so (and, really, the harmony sounds perfectly lovely just this once). But Jessica’s voice isn’t overpowering the way Ray’s can be, and it’s a pleasure to get to sing something more challenging than background noise. There’s a smattering of applause and a consternated shh from one of the librarians when they finish; Kit’s face is flushed with pride and satisfaction as her fingers drift over the last few notes, and she sounds as cheerful as she’s sounded all day when she finally offers up, “That wasn’t so bad, I guess.” It was admittedly a little better than not so bad but she doesn’t quite have it in her to be that nice yet. Instead she pats the bench with one hand, the other still drifting idly over the keys as she silently plays a few scales. “You can pick one, if you want.”
Jessica feels proud of the applause, it fuels her desire to perform. Nothing feels better than having people in awe of her voice. “No, not bad at all.”
For a moment she stares, not really willing to be that close to Kit. But of the glee club members her and Ray were probably the ones most alike Jessica. And after all, the lure of the piano is always hard to resist. Even so, sitting next to Kit feels strange. Jessica isn’t quite comfortable being this close. Still, it’s her time to shine so she places her fingers over the keys and stays perfectly still for a moment, eyes lowered, trying to decide what to play. She goes with the very first song that comes to mind. One she was used to singing with her mother when she was a child.
“The first musical I ever saw was the Sound of Music. It may not be the best but it has some good memories associated with it.”
Her fingers move across the keys, playing out the familiar tune. She doesn’t even need to watch her hands to know they’ll move to the right place so instead she closes her eyes and begins to sing.
“Edeleweiss, edelweiss, Every morning you greet me.”
Kit turns faintly pink -- not that she ever admits it, but she still insists on going to the Sound of Music singalong every year, as much to sing as to keep fond memories of watching the musical with her mother close to her heart. They're close on the bench, maybe closer than Kit is used to being to people who aren't Ray or sometimes Quinn (and certainly not girls) and her cheeks go brighter still in spite of herself.
She picks up Liesl's harmony on the second verse, swaying a little as she watches Jessica's fingers move across the keys. Kit can't quite resist the urge to look up, and her fingers flex restlessly against the bench through the fluffy layers of her skirt. Jessica looks much happier when she's singing -- still confident, sure, but more relaxed and peaceful and ... pretty.
Kit wrinkles her nose at how silly she sounds to herself and begins to sing along again, closing her eyes. "Small and white, clean and bright, you look happy to meet me ..."
#where have you been sis -- Videogame marathon with Puck! It's intense. I'm wicked close to winning, Kit! :D
whyyyy am i not surprised
well i commend you on your efforts
i'm sure you'll emerge victorious soon! do the family proud sis
shamostan:
Staceyann Chin:
If only out of vanity I have wondered what kind of woman I will be when I am well past the summer of my raging youth Will I still be raising revolutionary flags and making impassioned speeches that stir up anger in the hearts of pseudo-liberals dressed in navy-blue conservative wear In those years when I am grateful I still have a good sturdy bladder that does not leak undigested prune juice onto diapers—no longer adorable will I be more grateful for that than for any forward movement in any current political cause and will it have been worth it then Will it have been worth the long hours of not sleeping that produced little more than reams of badly written verses that catapulted me into literary spasms but did not even whet the appetite of the three O’ clock crowd in the least respected of the New York poetry cafes Will I wish then that I had taken that job working at the bank or the one to watch that old lady drool all over her soft boiled eggs as she tells me how she was a raving beauty in the sixties how she could have had any man she wanted but she chose the one least likely to succeed and that’s why when the son of a bitch died she had to move into this place because it was government subsidized Will I tell my young attendant how slender I was then and paint for her pictures of the young me more beautiful than I ever was if only to make her forget the shriveled paper skin the stained but even dental plates and the faint smell of urine that tends to linger in places built especially for revolutionaries whose causes have been won or forgotten Will I still be lesbian then or will the church or family finally convince me to marry some man with a smaller dick than the one my woman uses to afford me violent and multiple orgasms Will the staff smile at me humor my eccentricities to my face but laugh at me in their private resting rooms saying she must have been something in her day Most days I don’t know what I will be like then but everyday—I know what I want to be now I want to be that voice that makes Guilani so scared he hires two (butch) black bodyguards I want to write the poem that The New York Times cannot print because it might start some kind of black or lesbian or even a white revolution I want to go to secret meetings and under the guise of female friendship I want to bed the women of those young and eager revolutionaries with too much zeal for their cause and too little passion for the women who follow them from city to city all the while waiting in separate rooms I want to be forty years old and weigh three hundred pounds and ride a motorcycle in the wintertime with four hell raising children and a one hundred ten pound female lover who writes poetry about my life and my children and loves me like no one has ever loved me before I want to be the girl your parents will use as a bad example of a lady I want to be the dyke who likes to fuck men I want to be the politician who never lies I want to be the girl who never cries I want to go down in history in a chapter marked miscellaneous because the writers could find no other way to categorize me In this world where classification is key I want to erase the straight lines So I can be me
[Open Thread, Jessica at the park]
jessica-stjames:
Jessica smiles even wider through the bonjours, enjoying how genuinely french Kit manages to make them sound. Very few people can match Jessica’s acting abilities. As the song goes on she finds herself not only relaxed, but genuinely enjoying herself. Its been a long time since she’s sung with someone and it made a nice change from her bedroom mirror. Plus, she had to admit that Kit was talented. Not as talented as her, but their voices blended somewhat effectively.
Moving round the piano slightly her eyes meet Kits face, watching her sing. Kit was one of those people who, like herself, could find comfort in a song and it was written all over her face. The people around barely register in her mind, instead she gradually closes her eyes and just lets the music consume her, taking her back to happier times.
That nanny had been her favourite. She was one who had actually cared.
They sound nice together -- nicer than Kit would have expected, and they don't fight for the melody, though maybe her weeks with the Warblers have made her a little less inclined to do so (and, really, the harmony sounds perfectly lovely just this once). But Jessica's voice isn't overpowering the way Ray's can be, and it's a pleasure to get to sing something more challenging than background noise. There's a smattering of applause and a consternated shh from one of the librarians when they finish; Kit's face is flushed with pride and satisfaction as her fingers drift over the last few notes, and she sounds as cheerful as she's sounded all day when she finally offers up, "That wasn't so bad, I guess." It was admittedly a little better than not so bad but she doesn't quite have it in her to be that nice yet. Instead she pats the bench with one hand, the other still drifting idly over the keys as she silently plays a few scales. "You can pick one, if you want."
