[OPEN LOG] Set after the final bell on Friday, for anyone trying out/forced to attend theater!

[tntandgasoline]

[Welcome to the auditorium of Triple-D High! It looks something like this, only I've decided that the stadium seating isn't as steep and the chairs aren't that uncomfortable. Make of it what you will

Comments

[harbringersoul]

[Ys does not want to be here. He doesn't even know why he was here. But the teacher had said he was supposed to be here and somehow, it was dad's fault.

Guess who's hiding in the shadows, reading a book? This boy here.]

[tntandgasoline]

[Guess who's not noticing him for ten minutes? When he does, Kerr whirls and spreads out his hands in traditional "I'm so dramatic" style.] Yes! [Pause.] Or, uh, is it Yis? You know, now's a good a time as any, I always just call you kid or - well. Stand up, I need to look at you!

[Yes, he is coming over to loom and yes I just used the Joker to figure out how to pronounce Ys's name.]

[harbringersoul]

[Looks up from his book; no, that had not startled him and no, Mr. Kerr's very tall, less than sane presence did not intimidate him. Really. Ys unfolds himself from the corner and straightens, posture prefect. He only cames midway to the teacher's chest, but that didn't stop him from looking up to glare.]

It's Why-Es; like wise, meaning one who knows. Mom thought it was clever.

[No one really knows if he's telling the truth or not, but that's how his dad and aunt say it, so it works. There is debate about it; most people just call him by the nickname 'Yuca'.]

[tntandgasoline]

[He grinned right down into that glare. Oh no, not phased.] Wise! [A laugh,] Brilliant, brilliant, do you prefer kill or be-killed?

[8fingerswhiskey]

[Why is he here? Or right, because he's an idiot. Tom comes in in time to hear poor little Freshmen scared out of their mind, and Kerr's voice. He moves right on up to the stage, clears his throat and leans on arm on the stage]

Would you give them a break, for Christ sake? They're still getting used to the idea of having a nut case as a teacher.

[tntandgasoline]

[Kerr frowns and turns to point accusingly at Tom.] You. Why are you here? I'm not a nutcase, I'm a drama teacher, despite what you might think, there is a difference. [...He's forgotten he invited him.]

[8fingerswhiskey]

You invited me. Yeah, you are, and no there isn't. [oh, casual with a hint of 'I hate you', before he trills his fingers on the stage and walks off to find some place to sit]

[tntandgasoline]

Did I? [He frowns blandly as he tries to remember, then shrugs.] Whatever, I probably did. And there is and I am not!

[gearwinding]

[He had no intentions of taking any part in this drama club bullshit no matter how ~mandatory~ it was or wasn't for him, but seeing his name on the list plastered all over the door made him grit his teeth and roll his eyes and feel the need to do something. He marched over towards the stage and waited until he could catch Mr. Kerr's attention.]

You know I'm not... actually going to do this, right?

[tntandgasoline]

What? [He turned towards the annoyingly annoyed voice and looked down at Gabriel.] Oh, Gaaaaaaaabriel! Perfect, here. [He threw a copy of Titus Andronicus at him. It was battered and there were splatters of stage blood - well, I hope it's stage blood.]

[gearwinding]

[He caught it and looked down at it with disgust. That better just be stage blood.] I just said no!! Are you even listening?!

[tntandgasoline]

I make it a habit not to listen to negative Nancies. You hang out with a black kid, right? Can you get him to play Aaron for me? Nevermind, I don't care. I've never cared. Act two, scene three. Flip through it, study Tamora's monologue, starts at line 827. Do you know what's going on, or do I have to explain it?

[halfthetroubl]

[Devit's slumped in one of the chairs with his chin in his hands, looking thoroughly unhappy about being here. The only saving grace is that fact that he'll either get an embarrassing picture of Michael Trinity or a chance to break Tim Wayne's fingers.

Maybe both.]

[tntandgasoline]

[Kerr shouts out directions to a few of the freshmen before turning to look at the forlorn Devit.] Why the sour face? This is your own fault. [He leaps off the stage and heads over, frowning critically.] How do you like killing?

[halfthetroubl]

[Devit bristles and glares. How is this his fault?! As far was he's concerned, this is all because of that stupid Wayne. Urgh, what he'd give to smack him around!

He leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest, glowering some more.]

What, like 'stab stab, you're dead' with a fake sword? Bor-ing.

[tntandgasoline]

Oh, no. [Kerr easily flops into the seat next to Devit's, propping his feet up on the chair in front of him.] No fake swords. The character I have in mind for you is Aaron. [He spreads his hands out,] He's known as the worst Shakespearean villain, utterly remorseless. "Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did, would I perform if I might have my will. If one good deed in all my life I did, I do repent it from my very soul."

[A giggle, like it's a joke,] It's amazing. Unless you, uh, prefer being a hero.

[ttlynotcable]

[Fuck his life- and this was one of his good days- he couldn't make the excuse that he was feeling like shit.

SO. Nate's pretty much half-ready to tear out of there if it weren't for the fact he was pretty sure that he'd get maimed in one way or another if he tried it. And that makes him a real grump.]

...dammit.

[tntandgasoline]

Now, now. No need for swearing. [Kerr wanders over and throws an arm over his shoulders.] Come on, you can help me with the set design.

[ttlynotcable]

[;alskd DO NOT FUCKING WANT. D: Nate jumps slightly before turning his head with a scowl]

.........fine.

[tntandgasoline]

[Smmiiiile.] Atta boy. I'm thinking we'll need something... dark. Foreboding, really. Romanesque, too. And we need a bonfire.