It's Curtains Mods (
stagemanagers) wrote in
itscurtains2021-05-30 12:40 am
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once more with feeling [act 3]
You awake in an unfamiliar bed.
It’s comfortable enough, sure, but it’s certainly not yours. The room, too, is unfamiliar, especially in such heavy darkness. There seems to have been a great effort put into making it a livable space, with fuzzy rugs laid over linoleum, beds arranged as best to fit (and one bunk bed per dorm, rip whoever has the bottom bunk), and a single desk. You've also got individually labelled trunks; if you look inside yours, you'll find a yearbook with mostly blank pages, as well as a few with some interesting information. But even with all these changes it’s clear this room started it’s life as a classroom, every window hidden behind heavy dark green curtains.
To add to the strangeness of it all, your clothes have been swapped for some kind of uniform. It, though fitting your body perfectly, might feel a bit odd to some of you, as the body you have isn’t quite the same as it was before you mysteriously fell unconscious. The other important thing to note is the people in the other beds around you, all wearing the same color-coded uniform.
The hallway outside the dorms is narrow but well-lit, with fresh white walls and some scattered posters advertising some kind of midweek club meeting. The hallway goes on until, for the more contemporary of you, the pieces start to fall together as to your location: a school. Once you leave your rooms you’re free to wander as you wish but pinned up on a corkboard just outside the cafeteria there’s framed information that you might find helpful. If you explore further into the other rooms, in fact, you'll see there's an identical copy outside all of them.
In the lobby there are linoleum floors and fluorescent lighting, and a pair of glass doors that appear to lead outside. You can see out of both of them that the sun is shining brightly and there’s definitely more to see in the distance but the glass is unbreakable; you can't get out that way right now. A rolling metal sheet blocks off the hallway to the west. For the moment, both doors leading outside are locked.
It looks like you’re stuck. But hey - at least you aren’t alone.
It’s comfortable enough, sure, but it’s certainly not yours. The room, too, is unfamiliar, especially in such heavy darkness. There seems to have been a great effort put into making it a livable space, with fuzzy rugs laid over linoleum, beds arranged as best to fit (and one bunk bed per dorm, rip whoever has the bottom bunk), and a single desk. You've also got individually labelled trunks; if you look inside yours, you'll find a yearbook with mostly blank pages, as well as a few with some interesting information. But even with all these changes it’s clear this room started it’s life as a classroom, every window hidden behind heavy dark green curtains.
To add to the strangeness of it all, your clothes have been swapped for some kind of uniform. It, though fitting your body perfectly, might feel a bit odd to some of you, as the body you have isn’t quite the same as it was before you mysteriously fell unconscious. The other important thing to note is the people in the other beds around you, all wearing the same color-coded uniform.
The hallway outside the dorms is narrow but well-lit, with fresh white walls and some scattered posters advertising some kind of midweek club meeting. The hallway goes on until, for the more contemporary of you, the pieces start to fall together as to your location: a school. Once you leave your rooms you’re free to wander as you wish but pinned up on a corkboard just outside the cafeteria there’s framed information that you might find helpful. If you explore further into the other rooms, in fact, you'll see there's an identical copy outside all of them.
In the lobby there are linoleum floors and fluorescent lighting, and a pair of glass doors that appear to lead outside. You can see out of both of them that the sun is shining brightly and there’s definitely more to see in the distance but the glass is unbreakable; you can't get out that way right now. A rolling metal sheet blocks off the hallway to the west. For the moment, both doors leading outside are locked.
It looks like you’re stuck. But hey - at least you aren’t alone.
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Oh. Do you think this is a music school?
[ That would be - well, no, it's still bad that he's been kidnapped and he should be worried about all of this, he knows that, but he does sound a little intrigued underneath the wariness. ]
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...No. 'Cause if it were just a music school, those rooms'd be more carefully labeled, right? Like, Choir Room A or Brass Room instead of Band Room.
[ She pushes open the Band Room door, to confirm. Bunches of instruments, of all varieties. ]
See?
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They do have a lot of instruments, though. They must be well-funded.
oh rip my html
Could be. ...Kinda figured whoever was doing this'd have a lot of resources to begin with. Considering...I don't remember how I could've gotten here.
html is hard party all night
[ He follows the hallway along, turning right rather than going straight on a whim. This hallway has bathrooms, lockers, and... a concession stand? Weird. ]
I don't know how anyone could've moved all these people in their sleep without them knowing, unless they were one of the gods. And even then, that's a lot of work.
[ Mister Hermes is literally the god of travel, and Orpheus is pretty sure he's never seen him move this many people at once. ]
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And then he says possibly the most unexpected thing, and Peregrine's face scrunches up with a frown. ]
"The gods?"
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Or one of them, at least. They don't work together much, anymore. [ For Reasons that Mister Hermes refuses to talk about. ] I guess maybe Lady Athena could have done it? If we're supposed to be here to learn something. But this doesn't really seem like something she'd do, unless there was a really good reason for it. She's either much subtler or much, much more straightforward.
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Whoa- whoa, whoa, whoa hold on there— what in the world are you talking about? Those are just myths.
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What are just myths? [ he asks, brows furrowed slightly and blinking in confusion. ]
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[ As if it were obvious. ]
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No they're not? [ how do you not think the gods are real, that's like not believing in the postman ] Oh. Is this a joke? I don't get it.
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[ He shakes his head, frowning. ]
Who else do you think is keeping the world in harmony?
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People. People keep the world going, there's no- [ She presses her hands to her face, taking a deep breath. ] I don't even believe in the Christian God, we are not getting into this.
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[ Orpheus's frown only deepens at that next comment. ]
Who's the Christian god? I've never heard of them? Not by that epithet, at least.
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[ She is pointedly once again, ignoring a question, not getting into theology because it's too big a headache for her. If she has to listen to another person try and console her, to tell her Jacob's in a good place, she'll scream. ]
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I see Lady Persephone every year, and spring doesn't come until she shows up, because she's the one who brings it. It's her domain. If she didn't come back, it would always be winter. Same with Lord Apollo carrying the sun, and Lord Poseidon and his court with the tides. Scientists study how the gods do it, but they know who's - well, doing it.
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Stop. Just, stop, okay? I don't know if you're high or what, but there are no gods. There's no one making the world turn. It just does.
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Okay. [ he says, flatly, and turns around to keep on walking down the hallway. ]
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So she tells that part of her to shut up and continues their search in silence. ]
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That's... um. Can you take a look at rule five, for me? [ Because he can't... be reading that right, can he? ]
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What, you worried about some stupid prep school... [ But when she sees it, she trails off, mouth hanging open. ]
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[ He cuts himself off, shaking his head. It's phrased in a way that he doesn't really understand - he thinks it's saying if they don't get caught, they get expelled. But that doesn't make any sense? And is murder really a big enough problem in this place to warrant it being in rule five? ]
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...This is sick. This can't be right.
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May end their time in the school. Not will. They're not - saying it like it's a punishment, but that doesn't make any sense.
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