Week One

[stagemanagers]

[Yesterday, everyone woke up in a strange place and realized that they'd been kidnapped, and also that everyone else around them may or may not be kinnies? Wow, what a weird escalation of kin drama! Given what some people have seen of Spongebob's freaky arm thing, though, maybe it's not that at all?

Your Assistant Director, Hester, showed off her stuff and immediately had her life threatened by Lumpy Space Princess, who got her life threatened right back. Maybe you should keep that in mind if you decide to pay Hester any more visits! She won't be making another public appearance this week, but as promised, she'll be available for visits and consultation in the Principal's Office during business hours.

If you don't want to chat with Hester, there's always the school to explore! Some of you might also be receiving mysterious coins next to your bedside this week - those must be useful for something, right? There's lots to do, and you all seem like a group who can make your own fun, so enjoy your first week of school!]


Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday | Friday | Saturday


(( OOC: This will be the last mod post for this week! Feel free to start submitting regains for any threads that aren't with Hester. Remember, song threads mean an extra coin! This is a peace week, so get all that CR while you can! ))

Comments

[tellthestory]

Yeah. I mean...now, just now.

[His hands seem pretty certain about how to check the barrel and cartridge, but the anxiety is visible on his face. He's never really held one of these before; he didn't want to. Once assured it's empty, he's not quite sure what to do - he holds it away from himself like he doesn't really want it, pointed carefully away from both himself and Maya.]

But I've seen it before. It's Leon's, from my show. Rubber handles, owls stamped on the side. [He says that in sort of a weird cadence, like he's imitating someone else.]

[mayavericks]

Your old show, right?

[Even from her vantage point, she can see that it's empty. It puts her mind at ease for the time being, even if she does spare a glance for the vending machine once more.]

Do you think there's a place we can properly dispose of it here?

[tellthestory]

Yeah. He killed Bill McKinley with it.

[The Balladeer follows her glance up to the vending machine, then looks around.]

Can you put a gun in the trash? [His tone implies that he's pretty sure you can't.]

[mayavericks]

[Maya... blinks for a moment, wondering if she should recognize the name. Her U.S. history is a little rusty though, so... Moving along.]

I don't think that would be wise, even if you could. Someone else may find it.

[She doesn't know if she should trust the Balladeer, but so far he hasn't given her a reason not to.]

Perhaps there's a place it can be hidden?

[tellthestory]

[Huge imperialist, don't worry about it.

The Balladeer winces.]

I mean...I could put it under my bed, but that's not very secure... [He didn't really get a trunk like everybody else. But - oh, wait!] Oh! The lockers! We could just lock it in one of those!

[mayavericks]

The lockers. [She nods her agreement.]

Do you still have your lock, then?

[tellthestory]

Yeah, that was just in our desk. Figured I didn't really have anything worth locking up - I mean, I've been using that one guitar, but it's not mine.

[He's got a few more coins, but he just pockets them and hesitates over the gun. He wants to just go get rid of it now. He also doesn't want to just openly carry it through the halls. Will it...fit in his jacket pocket...? It sort of fits.]

At least it wasn't loaded. I wouldn't be that surprised if that thing can spit out bullets too, though.

[mayavericks]

I wasn't sure if you had already come across something you'd rather keep private. [She hasn't either but. You know.]

That would be my exact concern. Who knows what else it may hide.

[Though, with that in mind, she does step toward the vending machine and rap on its surface. It's hard to imagine the things they've seen fitting within it. Still, if a gun and 76 trombones could come out...]

Would you let me know if you ever find a rapier?

[tellthestory]

Sure. That's one of those thin swords, right?

[His show is very Gun.

He stoops to start picking up some of his other stuff - it'll probably take multiple trips, but he might as well bring a few things with him while he puts the gun away. There's a big teddy bear that definitely smells like it's been in a firing range; he puts it under one arm anyway.]

Do you think either of these shoes would fit you?

[mayavericks]

That's correct.

[Maya gives a look toward both of those slippers with a raised brow.]

Do they think we're in Oz?

[She'll take the gold slippers, at least.]

Thank you.

[tellthestory]

They've got a wizard, don't they? Maybe we are!

[It's a joke, really, and even something of a forced one. He's probably not gonna feel that comfortable again until the gun's under lock and key. But he's got everything in hand about as well as he can, so he straightens and starts to meander back towards the dorms.]

I was just gonna leave them in the costume room, probably. It's cool to have some stuff, but I don't really need all of this.

[mayavericks]

[Maya only makes a face. At this point, nothing would surprise her.]

At least you weren't assaulted by a swarm of trombones. [That slightly sour expression turns to an outright scowl.]

[tellthestory]

A swarm of trombones?

[mayavericks]

Truly, I wish there were a more apt description. But I lost track after thirty.

[tellthestory]

Ha!

[Maybe he shouldn't laugh, but you can't deny it's a funny mental picture!]

Why? How did that many even fit in there? I mean, this bear's pretty big - [He hefts the big carnival bear under his arm a little.] - but it's squishy.

[mayavericks]

I hardly see the humor in it.

[She could have died, B!]

I suppose we should not be so surprised. If we can be transplanted across time and space, it should not be so odd that they can fit an exceptional amount of trombones in a small space.

[Probably?]

[tellthestory]

[Aw c'mon, it sounds like a joke! No one dies in those!]

Makes sense. I doubt it's such a hard effect to do. Where did you put them all?

[Because if there's no trombones lying around here, well, they must've gone somewhere.]

[mayavericks]

I left them. If Hester wanted to make a mockery of me, I was fine making her clean up the mess.

[tellthestory]

Do you think she controls this thing? I mean, I could see it with...you know, the gun. But I'd be surprised she let me have my jacket back.

[She kinda seems to hate him for some reason?]

[mayavericks]

It could be incentives for good behavior? If you cooperate and play by the rules, there's a chance you could receive a gift from home?

[Maya only shrugs.]

She's the only face we have to assign to this mess. It's... easiest to push the blame on her.

[tellthestory]

Or a chance you could get a ton of trombones.

[Is this gambling? Is that what this is?]

I suppose that's true. I doubt she micromanages it to that level, though. That seems like a little bit much.

[mayavericks]

Someone has to clean up the mess though, wouldn't you think? It seems... foolish to anticipate that a group of twenty people would be able to avoid making a huge mess at some point or another.

Besides, they haven't given us any cleaning chemicals.

[tellthestory]

...I never thought about that.

[Guess who literally never has to worry about cleaning things?]

Wouldn't someone just...reset it between scenes? Maybe at night?

[mayavericks]

[Ah, there we go. The Balladeer headache. She pinches the bridge of her nose.]

I don't think it works quite like that. This is more dynamic than a scene, wouldn't you think?

[tellthestory]

Well, sure, but there's downtime. We aren't everywhere all the time.

[So, wait.]

Are we supposed to be actually cleaning stuff here?