It's Curtains Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stagemanagers) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
itscurtains2021-05-30 12:40 am
stagemanagers) wrote in itscurtains2021-05-30 12:40 am
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.
band room
He crosses over to the upright, trailing his fingers across the intricate wood carvings.]
Incredible, isn't it? That someone can sit down at this bench- [He takes a seat, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.] or pick up one of those- [he gestures at the instruments around them.] and create a masterpiece.
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The Balladeer eyeballs Benjamin as he moves around the room. But he seems friendly enough for the moment, and it's not as if he's unaccustomed to talking to murderers. Talking casually, even, given a moment. Not to mention, apparently they're in a scene together now - he nods.]
Yeah, it is. I've never...really composed anything myself. I mean, sort of. [It's complicated.] But I think maybe I could.
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Benjamin has always been a larger boy - "husky," his mother called him, and "a little piggy," according to the schoolmaster. It was a trait he learned most young ladies found quite unattractive. Until he met Lucy.
He assumes that his size is the reason why he's getting such a stink eye from the skinnier man - with that wicked "rule 5" over their heads, he'd be suspicious too, he thinks.
Obviously that's all it is.]
Well, even playing's beyond my skill. My wife would say I'm an artist in my own right, but then you know how ladies are in love, sir, they think you hung the moon and stars.
[Said, as if he doesn't plainly think the same of her.]
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I...knew a woman who was in love, once. He didn't deserve her, but you're right. She talked about him all the time.
[Not quite rightly sure who he would say deserved Squeaky, but Manson? Honestly? Even she didn't deserve that.
He strums a few chords thoughtfully.]
It's good that you love her, too.
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With all my heart and soul. Not a soul on earth couldn't be charmed by my Lucy. She could make the seas part for a smile and birds sing for a laugh.
Lucky as the devil himself, I am, that out of all the men in London, she said yes to me.
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That's nice. I don't think I've ever met anyone in a happy relationship before! Things were weird, where I'm from.
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Never? Sounds like you need to find better friends, mate.
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[Said with a bit of a hundred-yard stare. But also a forced smile!]
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All the more reason to leave 'em behind, then, I say.
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[This guitar sounds pretty good now! He strums a chord before setting it aside and going for a banjo next.]
Of course, now I'm here.
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You wouldn't happen to have any idea where here is, would you?
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[He knows the name of the school by now, but that's written up for everyone to see, and also it's not really that helpful.]
Seems American, though? But that's just the impression I get.
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[oh NOW he's worried about making sense]
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[Feelings don't necessarily have to be logical to make sense.]
I take it most aren't like this, even in the future? [Not that he's fully accepted the future thing, but today's been strange enough; he'll play along with it, for now.]
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[He's working through what he thinks and knows himself; the subject hasn't really come up for him a lot before.]
I think...schools with uniforms like this are usually...fancier. And this obviously wasn't meant for people to sleep here in the first place, right? [Like, even he can see these are classrooms with beds shoved in. Surely a real boarding school would be...different?]
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Not to mention, some of us are a little old for school, no matter how big they can make the suits.
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That too. I wonder why this? Could've had any premise, I'd think.
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[Get it? Uniform?]
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[Puns! Fun!]
Sure, I guess. Even though half of us are way too old for this. [should've cast all teens, rip]
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That may be true, but what good is a barber without his razors?
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