And if there ever was anything that Bash lacked in performance capabilities, the beat of the Muse song makes up for it entirely. Clarke sits and watches, and is entirely unaware of the fact she's started lolling her head to the beat until the second chorus. Music isn't foreign but it's still flooring to feel the faintest bit of emotional validation; of connection with a stranger — especially one that predates her by over 100 years — through their lyrics.
And if Panic Station sums up Bash's current headspace then, yeah, same hat, he's really reading the room.
All in all, she likes this song. Ooo 5, 6, 7, minus 9 lives. You've arrived at panic station! is going to be stuck in her head for the foreseeable future. And when the song is over, she brings up her hands to clap enthusiastically. It's an echoing sound in an otherwise empty performance space, briefly reminds her of applauding Diana Abel in the empty Bellona Theatre, but that smarts too much to dwell on. Between claps, she fans her hands around her mouth and lightly encourages: "Encore."
immediately adds this to my sails playlist
And if Panic Station sums up Bash's current headspace then, yeah, same hat, he's really reading the room.
All in all, she likes this song. Ooo 5, 6, 7, minus 9 lives. You've arrived at panic station! is going to be stuck in her head for the foreseeable future. And when the song is over, she brings up her hands to clap enthusiastically. It's an echoing sound in an otherwise empty performance space, briefly reminds her of applauding Diana Abel in the empty Bellona Theatre, but that smarts too much to dwell on. Between claps, she fans her hands around her mouth and lightly encourages: "Encore."