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.
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[He'd managed to largely not think about it while putting together his intro for the new show, but...yeeeeeesh. He grimaces a little, looking back down at his guitar.]
I mean, I was putting together a song for my new show, but that's...secondary, I guess.
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[you know his composer! well, obviously, he's famous!]
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[Listen, if someone with that kind of weight and influence was in charge of her disappearance, well... She could forgive it, if it meant something good coming of her career.]
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[Is Stephen Sondheim behind this? No, no, that'd be silly. Right?]
I wasn't made for this, this is something separate.
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[She's getting a headache.]
Who are you?
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[hahaha they're not...exactly the most well-known Sondheim show though...]
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You played a character on Broadway?
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Not...exactly. Neil Patrick Harris played me. He's - I think he's famous now, did some television acting or something?
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[Maya isn't the "I must be dreaming" sort of panicker but... She's starting to wonder.]
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[Huh! Kinda neat to think about it like that!]
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[You know what. She's going to go sit down on a bench.]
Is this a poor attempt at humor?
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[I mean, Sondheim wrote 'em]
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[She makes a face as she shakes her head.]
So. Are you meant to be narrating our story, then?
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God, I hope not. I have no idea what's happening.
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[She pinches the bridge of her nose.]
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Do you know what sort of story this is supposed to be?
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[Isn't that exciting???]
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[How confusing!]
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[He trails off, then snorts at himself a little.]
They may not want to hear it, but they'll listen.
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I was the same, with my classmates. With luck... You won't be the only one trying to speak above the chaos.
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That would be nice. It's always been just me before.
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