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]

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?

[mayavericks]

I -- Don't know. It was expected that we would take turns in our dorms back home but... We had the proper supplies to do so.

[Obviously they don't here, so....]

[tellthestory]

Maybe...Hester has them.

[Which brings us right back to where they were, because is she actually gonna give them to anyone?]

Or maybe they're in the machine!

[mayavericks]

I, for one, don't want to be the one that receives bleach.

[At best, her clothes would be ruined. At worst? Her body would be.]

I may ask Hester about it soon.