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.
no subject
The best way to get their attention would probably be if I just jumped on you and started attacking you, all RAWR!!!! [... But she honestly seems like she'd rather take a nap? So she's probably kidding. Probably.]
no subject
Please don't. [ he says, looking genuinely a little concerned. ] I'm sure they're here if we just look around? I don't really know how schools this big work, but there has to be somewhere for the teachers to work, right?
no subject
Sure. Let's find some supervision. You'll regret it after, I'm sure.
no subject
Why would I regret it? [ he asks, confused. They're looking for answers and someone to stop the 'second kind of person,' as Farrah put it. Why would that be a bad thing? ]
no subject
If I wanted that, I would have just gone to my cheer sleepover.
no subject
[ The thing is Orpheus hasn't really experienced enough authority in his life to have capital P Problems with it. Hermes and his mother were not exactly helicopter parents, and while he didn't have the best time in school he was only really there for a few nonconsecutive years. The Dustbowl was a wild time for child rearing. ]
What do you think they're going to be teaching us, here? [ he asks, the question coming to mind apropos of nothing. ] I've never been in a school this big, or this fancy.
no subject
My last school was bigger. And fancier. But it still sucked.
no subject
[ Then again Orpheus isn't sure learning cursive was useful either, but here he is, knowing that. ]
Really? Your family must be pretty important. I'm sorry it was bad, though.
no subject
No. My mom just married a guy with a ton of cash, so he sent me to his daughter's fancy high school.
no subject
[ He asks this with absolute earnestness. Orpheus has not met many rich people in his life but this seems to be a recurring problem with them, and he genuinely can't understand it. ]
no subject
If I was rich, I'd spend it all on alcohol. Then no one would be miserable.
no subject
Well, I hope this school is better than your last one? Despite, um. The kidnapping. Everyone here seems pretty nice so far.
[ that's a bit of a generous assessment on some counts but look ]
no subject
Yeah. People are a lot less stuck up. Even with your foreign names. Not that people with foreign names are stuck up! Just like, sometimes-- [foot in mouth]
no subject
Where are you from?
[ He's curious because she keeps calling his name foreign, and hers is unfamiliar to him, but she has an American accent. But he sure doesn't specify that that's why he's asking all of a sudden. ]