if I make another move there'll be no more turning back

[stagemanagers]

[When the final piece of evidence is collected, there’s no announcement. Hester’s voice doesn’t ring over the PA system, inviting you all to come to the auditorium as it has these 6 weeks prior. There’s also no body to collect or anyone new to mourn, which feels like a small blessing.

As you all filter out of your respective areas, someone is waiting for you in the lobby, positioned right next to the open double doors to the auditorium. The dress she’s wearing is a red chiffon, accented with black satin belt and trim along the sweetheart neckline and the straps tying around the back of her neck. On her feet she has the sparkling ruby slippers from the vending machine she’s worn several times.

Hester looks up at them from the clipboard in her hands, her expression a vision of calm as if she hadn’t been lying motionless on a stage after throwing herself 50 feet in an attempt to save Maya. Through the doors you can hear very faint voices despite it looking completely empty.]

Oh good, you finished. Please follow me and we can start the final trial.

don't stop believing

[stagemanagers]

[Streetlights, reveals] | [Vision Statements] | [Mass Resolution: CONNECT] | [A little touch of the sun (Revival)] | [They do this bullshit like 8 times a week (Rescue)]


[It's a pleasant afternoon in the garden. Maybe not emotionally, but physically - isn't it nice when you get to have class outside?

As your voices rise, singing defiance in unison out for the Wizard, there's no immediate response; at least, nothing that clearly is a response. But there's something. Amidst the sound of your song, it may be hard to hear at first; Janis will likely be the first to notice, but eventually everyone is able to hear. It sounds as though other voices are rising along with yours.

There's something on the air - no music, or at least no instrumentals, just a disembodied sort of lyrical chant. You don't recognize any of the voices. They aren't singing the same song as you all are. Maybe they can't; they sound long long ago, and far far away now. Still - despite everything - the trees around you move lightly in a sudden soft breeze. It feels as though you have invoked something, old and entirely beyond your knowledge.

But first. Haven't you forgotten something?

It's Wednesday.

Welcome to this week's school club!]