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A lover of AUs and a master of causing the feels, Wendy is always at the ready to offer love and support to her fellow members. Her posts are lovingly constructed, detailed, and every character speaks in their own voice; from the lovable Cadi to the villainous Cala. EDS wouldn't be the same without her, so go show her some love!

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Welcome to ENDLESS DIAMOND SKY! We are an animation personified site set both in the animated world and present day San Francisco. A terrible darkness is spreading through the animated realm, driving everyone from their homes and into unknown territory that we know as reality. Now they find themselves at a crossroads: do they fight for their world or do they turn their back on it and make San Francisco their home? What will you choose?

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 maybe you mean every word you say, #amanda/robin
river héctor socorro
 Posted: Jul 11 2018, 08:48 PM
  quote

music's the only thing that makes me happy.

  miguel rivera
  coco
  21 years old
  single
  claims bisexual, is gay
  he/him
  liz (she/her)
 4 POSTS

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robin edward sanders
i left it open for you to figure out ~how he got robin's attention and when. i'm excited!
"Before this river becomes an ocean, before you throw my heart back on the floor..." The words came easily to him, performing out in the open old hat to him by now even if he still wasn't very known. He didn't even need to look at the guitar across his body to make sure he was ready to strum the right notes (what a difference being able to play openly made instead of relying on old movies to learn by sight). Of course, the atmosphere around him didn't hinder anything. River loved how park-heavy the city was. Much of his childhood had been spent outdoors, and sure, the landscape of Santa Cecilia had been much more composed of tans and browns than of green grass, but that didn't make it any less of a welcomed sight. On top of that, parks were free. Free was good, and he had yet to be kicked out of a park for playing music for change.

"Oh baby, I reconsider my foolish notion. Well I need someone to hold me, but I wait for somethin' more. Yes I gotta have faith." Perhaps it was another nod to George Michael, perhaps it was just River trying to appear cooler than he really was (and he was not cool enough to deserve this look, but he could dream), but the jeans and leather jacket even in the July weather didn't hinder his enthusiasm. True enough, he had grown up in Mexican heat wearing jeans all the time, so he had yet to really be bothered by anything San Franciscan weather had come up with. He kept time with a tapping foot and a slight sway through his middle, his own groove that he couldn't help when music was being played by him or anyone else.

If there was anyone around the park that day that he knew, he hadn't noticed, and it wasn't likely he would soon as he approached his favorite part of this particular song, a break that allowed him to show off and get a little flashy on his guitar (well, as flashy as River ever got on his acoustic). He would be absorbed in the music for now, paying no attention to those around him. More than anything, that instrument was his prized possession. While he had managed to cross the portal with Papá Héctor's guitar, it was old, and it carried so much importance in it that River simply didn't trust himself to take it out around town with him. Not only that, but he held hope that one day he would meet the man again and be able to return it. It really wasn't River's guitar to play, after all. No, the one he strummed on now was the first one he'd been able to pay for all by himself from the same shop he worked in. It wasn't anything fancy, but from the first few experimental chords plucked, River knew it was the one he wanted, and it had yet to let him down in that choice.

After an appropriate length (by his standards) guitar solo, he began to sing again, the pre-chorus with a little more feeling than its last appearance, as well as a little more enthusiastic sway. He grinned— charmingly, he hoped— as a couple of ladies dropped some money in his guitar case. Maybe it was cliché, playing in the park for money, but it worked, didn't it? He was strategic about the places he picked; this time he had settled near the picturesque fountain, where people would needlessly chuck their pennies in the water anyway for wish. A little pocket change was all he was after. It'd be enough to grab some food, probably. At any rate it was more than he'd had before, and that was good enough. He'd have to count his earnings so far once this song was over, and it very nearly was, coming to the last couple lines.

"Because I gotta have faith, faith, faith. I gotta have faith, faith, faith." One final, decisive strum came down with the last repeated faith, and he grinned again, enjoying the scattered applause he received. "Gracias! You're too kind, sir, really," he thanked an older gentleman who dropped $5 in his case (which, to him, was still a lot to ask), then set his guitar gently down on the concrete as he lowered himself to sit on the wide edge of the fountain where he checked the time on his phone and looked over the money he'd collected so far.

baby, i know you're asking me to stay.
say please, please, please don't
go away. you say i'm giving
you the blues.
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