Week Four

[stagemanagers]

[Last week, Gershwin High School Academy University saw its very first intentional murder! What a milestone! And right after Spongebob's No Murder party, too - that doesn't seem like it bodes very well for anybody's future.

You all wake up this morning with yet another new memory returned to you. You'll also find that the school's external doors have now unlocked. Congratulations! You're free! Unfortunately, you also seem to be entirely in the middle of nowhere. So maybe it's more of a symbolic victory.

Still, you should look around and do some investigation! Maybe you'll find a fun surprise.]

Sunday | Monday | Tuesday | Wednesday | Thursday

(( Be sure to submit your memory regains and your AC for this week! Hester's office hours and the merch booth also remain available! ))

Comments

[comeandfindme]

[ ... ]

It's...maybe. I'm kinda set on doing them practically right now. I mean— I was gonna make something for someone, but—

[ Then we can match, huh? ]

...It'd be a waste of leather now. I should just use it for the cloaks.

[tellthestory]

Sure, now. But maybe some other time.

[It's nice to imagine her just doing this for fun, somewhere safe where she could take all the time she needed. The Balladeer finishes pinning the skin up, and then moves to take the skirt and a needle and thread.]

It is cool to make something that lasts, though. All I've got is my music. I should learn to sew for real or something...

[comeandfindme]

[ It's a way to distract from her own emotions and usually Peregrine doesn't take that out? But today... ]

Hey, music lasts. You know how to write any?

[tellthestory]

[He hums doubtfully.]

I'm not sure. Sometimes I feel like I wrote my songs, but I know I didn't really - ow.

[He's pricked himself with the needle! The Balladeer sticks his finger in his mouth instinctually for a moment, then shakes it out and returns to his work. His stitches aren't particularly neat or even, but they're holding everything together for the moment, and that's really all that's required.]

Maybe I shouldn't take up sewing.

[comeandfindme]

[ Something that's small and seldom heard from her in the last few days slips out: A laugh. ]

Maybe you shouldn't. [ She turns her attention to the skin she's smoking, because if she doesn't it'll probably go up in flames. ] Stick to your songs for now. You're good at that.

[tellthestory]

Mmmm.

[Yeah, she's probably right.]

Maybe I could compose something. Even if I didn't do the other ones, at least it means I know a lot about music. It's a bit of pressure, though - trying that for the first time with someone like Salieri around.

[comeandfindme]

What? Oh, no, he'd probably help you. [ Ah, something like a smile? ] He's a great teacher. He really seems to like it.

[tellthestory]

I'm sure he would! [He'd hardly meant to imply that Salieri was...he doesn't know, gonna be mean or something.] I just don't want to show him something completely terrible, you know?

[comeandfindme]

Look, I couldn't even play a single scale before he walked me through it. Whatever you show him, I'm sure he'd just...give you tips on how to improve it. [ But. Still— ] I...get it, though. You wanna show you're good enough.

[tellthestory]

...yeah. I guess. Music is supposed to be my entire thing. I'm the Balladeer, not just the Narrator.

[comeandfindme]

Exactly! It's already yours, you just gotta branch out a little.

[tellthestory]

That's true! I could just write a...a little something for the guitar, just one instrument. That's not so bad.

[comeandfindme]

Not all of us can write for a whole orchestra.

[tellthestory]

True. I'll just be a - well, I guess my script describes me as a folk singer...

[Which makes it weird, now? But that doesn't necessarily include composition, does it? Maybe??]

Singer-songwriter. That's a thing, right?

[comeandfindme]

It's really a thing.

[tellthestory]

There you go, then! Not that I really need a job - but it's a neat hobby!

[comeandfindme]

It's good to have hobbies. Likes, dislikes... Things you do besides...like, one thing.

[tellthestory]

Like music?

[He asks it wryly, but like - that is sort of his one thing.]

[comeandfindme]

...Okay, yes, like music.

[tellthestory]

[He chuckles.]

Well, maybe I'll take up woodworking or something on the side. Plenty of tools around for that, if I can avoid lopping my hand off.

[comeandfindme]

...I used to do photography. That can be pretty fun.

[tellthestory]

Huh. I never thought about that.

[There's cameras in the library though, aren't there...?]

That could be neat! I could take pictures of...people around here. [...] Not that we've got anywhere to send the film, anyway.

[comeandfindme]

What, it's all film? No digital? [ She hasn't really looked at it, but she thought... ] Ugh. Typical.

[tellthestory]

...digital...?

[He hasn't actually looked either; his show just only covers up to the Reagan presidency!]

[comeandfindme]

…Digital cameras? You’ve never heard?