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]

[Yesterday was sort of discouraging for the Balladeer in a lot of ways. Honestly, when he went to sleep, he sort of hoped he'd wake up somewhere else. That's not typically how scene transitions have worked for him - really, he's only recently gotten the chance to properly lay down and sleep at all - but hope springs eternal and all?

Unfortunately, he does wake up back in his cot.

From there, he doesn't really know what to do? He knows what normal people might do - he manages to wander over to the showers, and then to the kitchen where Spongebob has prepared breakfast. Thank god for Spongebob, honestly; he's the only one keeping anybody fed. After that...well, what do normal people do with their time? At a loss, the Balladeer wanders for a while before eventually just ending up in the band room again. He's just playing the guitar this time, strumming out a little tune. When someone enters, he looks simultaneously excited for company and a little wary.]

Oh...hi. Uh...what are you doing? [Oh, wait, he knows what he can do!] Any requests?

[In the afternoon, he returns to the kitchen to try and find some food on his own. He never gets to eat on-stage, and usually he wouldn't want any more food for a while after a good hearty breakfast like that one. But living with the Player, these past few weeks...maybe he got used to it. She fed him all the time.

Now, he's just standing and staring into the fridge. He's realizing that he...doesn't actually know how to cook. Maybe he'll just eat an apple. That's a thing people do, right?

At some point, he also realizes that basically everyone else here has changed out of their costumes. Frankly, he doesn't even like his; he'd just been wearing it because he...thought he was supposed to? As much as he's supposed to do anything here. If everyone else is doing it, though, it must be alright. As such, he goes to the costume room and starts poking around.]

I've never really had a chance to pick my own costume, from scratch. [He holds up a ruffly pirate shirt and frowns at it.] How am I supposed to know what works if they won't tell us anything about the show?

band room

[brokeforgood]

Looking for something that doesn't totally suck. [.... She's looking for the assistant-director's booze. Anyone that calm has to have some kind of stash somewhere. And while the band room seems like a long shot, she's positive that the assistant director is the type to hide her secrets.

There might be some tequila in the tuba, right? So. Yeah. The Balladeer's question may actually be a little valid, as she picks up instruments and tries to flip them over.]

I don't know. Do you do anything other than Wonderwall? [he looks like the type of guy who just plays wonderwall]

[tellthestory]

I don't think I know Wonderwall, so...yes.

[He watches her turn the tubas over with curiosity. Does she think there's stuff hidden?]

Are you looking for something?

[brokeforgood]

Band kids always have the best stashes. They act all buttoned up, like Ms. Underpaid Brunette, but they get wild at parties. [Maybe in this case? Ugh. More sheet music. Weirdly enough, she shuffles the sheet music, and gently sets it aside. May be good editing material for Songs for Satan.]

Are you sure? You look like the kind of guy that shows up to a bonfire and sings Wonderwall. What's your go to? The song about the guy who thinks the girl's beautiful, and he's stalking her? Or Hey There Delilah?

[tellthestory]

...the stalking song is really John's thing, but I know it?

[His and Squeaky's, but like unless you're gonna duet with him]

band room

[feudalladyshandmaid]

Not unless that guitar is actually the key to getting out of here. [As Cassandra steps into the room, she gives only passing attention to the Balladeer's guitar-strumming. She's a woman on a mission.] Nice tune you've got going.

[Alright, maybe she's paying more attention than that. Hmm, let's look at these trumpets.]

[tellthestory]

I doubt it.

[But he keeps playing nonetheless! Thanks to Farrah, he's still noodling over an instrumental version of this, and yes I am linking the Ben Platt version as a form of personal assault against everyone.]

You think you'll find something that will?

[feudalladyshandmaid]

[Cassandra isn't about to object. Even she, after over a year of hanging around a certain, free-spirited blonde, can appreciate some nice guitar music. Thank you.]

Maybe. [Non-committal shrug!] If I look hard enough. Or maybe I'll find something I can smash through the front doors with.

[Speaking of... Ohhh, this trombone's got some heft to it!]

[tellthestory]

[The Balladeer looks a little uncertain, clearly torn between "getting out is important" and "oh god no the instruments".]

Wouldn't a chair or something be better?

[feudalladyshandmaid]

The chairs are next.

[Apparently, she can't really decide what's the best way to hold a trombone to swing it like a broadsword. So, after about twenty seconds of turning it over, she sets it back down.]

I'm just covering all of our weapon options.

Band Room

[alchemistake]

[Varian hadn't visited the band room yet in his flurry of investigating things the day before. He's quite honestly never seen this many instruments in one place, despite actually knowing one himself. Suffice it to say he's curious by the Balladeer's guitar playing, leaning up against the wall to listen for a time until he's eventually noticed.]

Oh, don't mind me. I was just listening.

[He tilts his head a little to one side, pointing to the guitar in his hands.]

So- is that hard to play?

[tellthestory]

I don't think so. But I was sort of literally created to play it.

[That and some other things, but there's some pretty specific call-outs in his character description. Plus probably plenty of actors play guitar.]

So I guess I never really had to learn. [He contemplates the guitar for a moment.] You wanna try? I could show you some stuff.

[alchemistake]

[Varian sort of just looks at him with an expressin that screams "well that was a weird thing you just said and I actually don't know how best to respond", but given the fact he's just started to accept things like Mumble believing wholeheartedly that he is a penguin and not, in fact, a human person...]

Well, uh...I guess you would have to be good at if it that's...true...

[HAHA...ha...

He will push away from the wall saying that, though, making his way over so he can get a better look.]

You sure? I don't wanna like...mess it up, or anything.

[He holds up and looks at his own hands, which have callouses on his fingers and old burns from chemical mishaps.]

I've never been known as the most....dextrous person.

[tellthestory]

Well, maybe grab another one, then.

[He grins; it's a joke!]

I bet there's one more your size, anyway - it's supposed to be a school, right?

[alchemistake]

Right! You're- so right-

[Varian gestures for the Balladeer to wait- as if he has anywhere he could even be going- before he steps back to look for another guitar. It doesn't take him long to find one, and hey- it is smaller! Much easier for him to deal with than something large and potentially too unwieldy.

He'll pull a chair over with the toe of his shoe before sitting sideways in it, looking at the way the Balladeer is holding his guitar before copying the position with his own.]

Okay, this should work.

Costume room

[whatyouwant]

You figure out what is flattering for your figure and what makes you the happiest!

[She flips through a wrack of button downs.]

You have a sort of lumber-jack chiq thing going right now. Do you want to try something new, or keep to the same?

[tellthestory]

Uh...I've never thought about it before.

[He looks down at himself. It's not like he's ever had to think about it. Overall, he doesn't really make that many decisions for himself.]

I like it fine. But I wouldn't mind trying something new, either?

[whatyouwant]

Okay, so we'll try a few things. Fabric or fit preferences?

[She's already pulled a couple of items out and drapped them over her arms.]

[tellthestory]

...I don't know.

[He seems to realize, even as he says it, that it's not...usual. Or just not helpful. The Balladeer falters a little.]

I - nothing too elaborate, I guess?

[whatyouwant]

Simple, but a range of fits, got'cha.

[She hands him a simple grey outfit.]

We'll start with something basic.

kitchen

[barberic]

[Benjamin isn't necessarily hungry - he isn't doing the kind of work here that leaves a man starved - but it is tea time. May as well eat something light with it, too.

He's surprised by the chill in the air when he enters the kitchen, and sees the other man staring contemplatively into the... ice box, for lack of a better term.]

Training for a polar expedition, then?

[Light teasing, as he carefully repeats the steps he figured out how to get water on to boil.]

[tellthestory]

Hm? Oh!

[CRAP you aren't supposed to leave it open, are you? The Balladeer shuts the fridge, sheepishly, without realizing that he still hasn't actually gotten anything out of it.]

I was just...thinking, I guess. [He's starting to sort of get the sense that pretty much everything he says is weird, though. Maybe he should just...] What are you doing?

[barberic]

[If he thinks the other man is more of an oddball than any of the several other weirdos, let alone the absolutely mad situation writ large, Benjamin certainly doesn't show it. What he does do is put on enough water for two cups of tea.]

Tea. Never been one to go all fancy for it, but there's nothing better than a hot cup of tea in the afternoon.

[He gets out some of the non-refrigerated fixings for a sandwich, then takes another look at the skinny American and doubles that.]

[tellthestory]

Oh - yeah, that's a British thing, isn't it?

[Look. What the fuck does he know.]

Lucky they had some around. I don't think that's a regular American school thing. 'Course, I could be wrong.

[barberic]

Mm. Surely not everyone in America lost the taste for it overnight.

[Sweet Tea doesn't count.]

I'm having cheese and pickle- would you like one?

[As he assembles his own sandwich, then starts with the innocuous but necessary smear of butter for the Balladeer's.]

...There's also the alternative, I'm afraid. That that woman knew our tastes ahead of time and planned accordingly.