The Drama Club Presents...

[Darryl Bond]

(This thread is dated at the beginning of the semester. The thread is open to any and all that wish to take part in the failtastic Hammel Play that Darryl has picked out. That play shall be revealed, in due time.)

Darryl had read nearly thirty plays meant for high school before he settled on this one--he had half a mind to throw the entire class together and make them come up with their own, but he figured they would need at least a full year to pull that together. So a play he had to pick. He had already cleared it with Claude, and he managed to find a script that didn't involve singing, so he prayed that his class of rag-tag students would enjoy it. He didn't know who would be cast for what part yet, but he certainly knew who'd be grabbing for the lead role--at least the lead male role.

He had told everyone last class (and through email) that today they were to meet in the rehearsal room of the club hallway, to involve those in the drama club as well, and because the club room was bigger than his actual classroom, and whenever he took his group to the auditorium they misbehaved like a bunch of middle schoolers. They were due in any minute and Darryl, dressed in character, paced the length of the room with his hands folded behind his back. The particular costume he was wearing was from the age and time the play is set, though it was a bit darker than the overall theme of the play. However, he'd been looking for costumes for quite a while, but just hadn't found any that fit the image.

He turned when the door opened and ushered with his hands for the student to take a seat. "I'll explain once everyone gets here." Of course, his outfit was strange and everyone would have questions, but he wasn't going to repeat himself a million times.

[Karashi Usaki]

Karashi was a little excited to be trying out for the play. She had done Sound for a few productions back home in Japan, and she wanted to see if things were the same, or at least similar to that of Japan. She hurried towards the place where the meeting was for it. She wondered what the play was going to be about. She hoped it was a classic, or at least something she would be interested in doing. She was excited.

She walked into the room, casting a strange glance in the direction of the man wearing the weird costume. She didn’t know why he was wearing it, but she shrugged it off. Americans had their own ways of expressing themselves, she guessed. She nodded and sat down, taking her purse off and setting it beside her on the floor. She looked around at all of the decorations that lined the walls and the tables of the classroom. She had never been in here before.

Words: 180
Muse: Not good.

[Isaac Tilford]

As soon as Isaac walked into the rehersal room, he knew exactly which play they were going to do. There were only so many high school appropriate plays where that costume would work, and only one of them was famous enough to get a bunch of people excited.

But that worked for him, even if he was going to have to listen to people sing about pies and razors and things like that. That style of costuming was fun, and there were already a bunch of costumes in the closet that could easily be adapted, at least for the girls. And there were some pirate costumes which--with a bit of tailoring and new trimming--could pass as well.

It was exciting. The girl he'd done costuming with last year had graduated in June, so Isaac hoped to be put in charge this year. He could handle it, even if his grades slipped a little. This was real life experience, and that would be more interesting to put on a resume and college application, right?

"Hey Mr. B," Isaac nodded to the teacher and to the girl he didn't know, than hopped up to sit on one of the tables that was pushed up against the wall. He dropped his backpack to the floor, but only after pulling out his notebook--the cover riddled with drawings and sketches of ninjas--and flipped to a blank page, following his math notes. In the margins, he started listing characters from the show, and then writing lists of what was in the costume closet which could be adapted. He didn't think the school had done this particular one in recent memory, so there probably wasn't anything specific. Then again, if Mr. Bond wanted to update it, what they had might not work at all. As other students filed into the room, he looked them over. Most of them would probably end up being in the chorus, but until he knew who was cast for whom, he couldn't really start doing his job.

[Sidra Cotton]

Clack, clack, clack. Before she was even seen, the heels of Sidra's boots announced her presence, striking a sharp staccato against the tiles of the hall. Pale faced as ever, the goth paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of the drama teacher, a smile dangerously close to her lips. Oh, yes, she'd be able to help if that was the style he was going for. It naturally helped that her own style was similar enough that it'd be easy to incorporate it into the show.

Studying the costume the teacher wore, Sidra decided that he had a distinct look of Todd about him, not that she watched Burton films religiously. Okay, she did, an her brother had so kindly sent her another copy of the Sweeny Todd blu-ray for Christmas. At least the new one had all the special features.

Schooling her face back into it's usual scowl, shifting her grip on the violin case and sketch book, Sidra marched further into the room and planted herself in a convenient spot where she could hook her heels through a chair rung and balance the sketch pad on her knees. There was only one job she wanted when it came to the theatre, and that was costuming. It had been her dad's idea. He was in the habit of encouraging her to make the best of her high school years, in spite of the obvious differences.

Once she was settled to her convenience and comfort, Si arched her eyebrows at the DramaKing and waited. Biding her time and completely ignoring the other people. As usual they were beneath her notice, even if in this case they were trying to step outside of themselves. However! It was for theatre, and that hardly counted. people expected oddities on stage. They were still sheep. As she ignored the others, Sidra failed to notice the one other person with a sketch book, and thus had no notion there was a potential rival there.

[Samuel Rixon]

Sam skipped his way to the drama club room. For once, he wasn’t actually high. He was just in a good mood. He wasn’t fighting with Vincent, he’d gotten laid (thank you, Ember), and he’d actually just passed a history test. Shocking, I know. But he was in a good mood, and that meant he didn’t need pot to get him happy.

He skipped down the hall, singing the Badger song, simply because he could, and skidded his way into the drama club room. The moment he laid eyes on their teacher, his eyes lit up. “Mr. Bond! We gunna play DRESS UP?!” Samuel, you’d be wise to shut up. Now, preferably.

At least he seemed to realize that now was the time for being quiet. He moved into the room, jumping up on a table beside a boy with curly hair he recognized, but couldn’t put a name to the face. He just grinned stupidly and kicked his legs, swinging them under the table. “It’s gunna be the best play fuckin’ EVER.”

… Just keep telling yourself that, dear.

[Stella Pinyin]

Quietly, Stella had made sure she stayed at least three meters behind her room mate as she followed Sidra to the drama room. Usually, she found her way in with Zac, but LaRousse was heading in a bit later and while Stella did not want to run into and upset Sidra, she really did not want to be late.

”Ah, hello,” she said nervously, looking around to try and see an empty table that was not near that scary head of red hair. Drama class was always... a bit scary for Stella but she’d improved a lot since she’d taken a few private lessons. Why, only just last semester she’d read the lines for Juliet’s balcony monologue in front of... four people. It had been terrifying, but very exhilarating and Mr Bond had even said she had captured Juliet’s anxiety perfectly.

Ah Stella... method acting at a whole new level.

Even with Stella’s poor eyesight, the Chinese girl could tell her teacher was wearing something very unusual, even for him. As to what Stella could do for the show, she was not sure. Costumes were not an option; she couldn’t sew. Lighting? No. She’d just blind herself at the first cue. Maybe sound? Or.. maybe she could be in the show? It was a long shot, maybe.... What if she bumped something over? But still... she had loved Juliet. But what if her little... luminescence problem threw off the other actors?

Finally finding a desk near the back of the room, but not so far back that she would not be able to see her teacher. Would they get scripts? Would she have to organize one with larger print? Would there be auditions? Would they have to... volunteer? It would be so much easier if no hands being raised was needed.

[Darryl Bond]

He smiled to each as they entered, minus Sam. That kid rarely brought a genuine smile to his face. Just something about him plucked nerves, constantly. He of course, couldn't refrain from cursing but Darryl had long since quit trying to change the boy, as that seemed extremely pointless. He scratched at the wig on his head, as it was pretty itchy, and decided that enough had arrived to begin, though there were a few more people would be coming.

"Some of you may recognize what I am wearing, and are probably thinking we're going to be....singing about eating people and perfume with piss in it. We are not, sadly. I figured it was in everyone's best interest to leave the singing out of it. But I knew the types of plays you would be interested in, and which ones you might actually work at," Sam he was pretty much talking directly to you, but he kept his eyes roaming his students of both his class and the club. "So, we have a version of Sweeney Todd; A Demon Barber, for our acting pleasures. There is not a single bit of singing and the plot is different. He doesn't go to prison, Mrs. Lovetts isn't gothy, that sort of thing. Sorry Sidra." He knew her creative juices were just itching to get on costume design and he knew if he didn't say something before she got too far along in her ideas, they'd all turn out like the Tim Burton movie anyway.

"There are three main leads in this version. Sweeney, Mrs. Lovetts, and Antony--who in this version is actually a young man in the police force who befriends Sweeney. You'll all have this week to pick the part you main want, we'll hold auditions next Friday and those who don't make it will be assigned either as extras or part of the other departments. Sound, set, or prop." He smiled to his students, in hopes that they would actually like this version, before he picked up the box of scripts and started to hand them out. He already got Stella her special one in Large Print because he was an awesome teacher like that.

[Estelle Flores]

This was turning out to be the Worst. Day. Ever. Estelle sprinted down the hall, her breath coming in short bursts. She had slept through her alarm, she had missed her first class and in the process of trying to figure out what[ she had missed in her first class, she had missed lunch and in getting lunch so she didn't pass out, she was now stupidly late for her first Drama Club meeting.

Everything. Sucked.

Estelle hated being late for things. Especially something that required a group effort. Now she was going to look like she didn't care and she really, really did. She loved theater and she loved working together with a group to make an awesome show. And she was going to look like such a jerk.

Estelle was close to frustrated tears when she quietly pushed open the door to the rehearsal room. She hovered near the entrance while Mr. Bond explained the gist of the show. Sweeney Todd! She'd seen the play before, and had been torn between thinking it was awesome, and the saddest thing she'd ever seen. Hopefully she'd still be able to participate, given her absurd tardiness.

Once Mr. Bond had finished talking and began to pass out scripts, Estelle snuck up next to him, her head ducked in embarrassment. "Hi Mr. Bond, I'm sorry I'm so late." She twisted her hands nervously, "Is it too late to get a script?" Embarrassment.

[Zachary LaRousse]

Zac would never have imagined he’d be this excited for a school play meeting. Despite being quite the twisted (and rather dangerous) combination of a spotlight-hoggerwhore and a drama-queenking, prior to his senior year in Hammel, he never really had interest in performing on stage. Sure he liked being the center of attention and would want to sleep with some of the hot and popular actresses (and quite rarely, actors) of his generation, but being one of them isn’t really among his dreams. Which means that Darryl’s one heck of a teacher then, inspiring the egotistic lad’s mind with such a huge love for the arts that he even decided to be like his teacher (though they did, in no way, coordinate) and attend the practice in costume.

Problem is, it seems he’s got the wrong play.

After a couple of minutes changing backstage (he didn’t care that he was late – after all, in his mind, Mr. Bond will be so blown away that he’d give the part to the boy likes right away, even if he already gave it to someone else before), Zac walked on stage and towards his beloved instructor, head held high and smirk plastered on his face, clad (only) in a rather tight, skimpy and extremely blinding gold shorts and a pair of gold Jeremy Scott winged shoes. “So Mr. Bond, do I get the part or what?”

Oh joy.

[Sidra Cotton]

They were not doing Sondheim's Sweeny Todd? Sidra's eye lids narrowed in thought as she tried to figure out how they were going to pull that off without infringing on copyright laws and the like. As far as she knew, and admittedly she didn't know a lot about it, Sondheim was pretty particular about his work. And Sweeny Todd was his. And Burton's. But mostly his.

Pulling the script closer to her and thumbing through it, Si paid close attention to the descriptions of the setting and characters. As far as she could tell it was still Victorian, if not as gothy as Burton's interpretation, it still had potential. Sketches, there would need to be sketches, and she'd have to be able to sell her idea to the Dramallama for him to agree. That would be the more difficult part of the two tasks she'd set for herself. Nor did it occur to her that anyone else would want the role of costumer. Clearly they were all there to audition.

"Holy hells," Sidra's attention was snapped away from the script and sketchbook as one moron strode into the room as though he'd already been cast. In Rocky. While she could appreciate RHPS--her father had been a huge part of a shadow cast, after all--the guy was not Rocky. He was dressed like Rocky, but he was not Rocky. Nor would she ever cast him as such, ever. The very notion made her brain hurt. Massively. "Unlikely."

[Isaac Tilford]

Isaac smirked lightly when Mr. Bond called out Sidra directly. Honestly, he could easily see the girl playing Mrs. Lovett, no matter how gothy the version of the play was. Unless she was completely rewritten as a character, Sidra would fit perfectly. (No, it didn't cross his mind that she wasn't trying out.)

And then Zac came in.

Well, that was...well.

What kind of crack was Zac smoking if he honestly thought a high school could get away with doing Rocky Horror? Like the point they had made on Glee on Halloween--Yes, Isaac watched Glee. But only to make fun of it. Really--it was hilariously inappropriate for a high school to do, particularly when Hammel was also a middle school, and there were kids as young as ten around. He rolled his eyes at the other teenager's antics, then started paging through his script. His lists were still applicable, even though it wasn't the musical version. And actually, they could use a little more of the costumes in the closet, the ones that didn't work well for dancing. No musical numbers meant the principals could have more elaborate costuming.

"Hey, Mr. B?" Isaac finally asked, not bothering to raise his hand. "Do you have a stage manager yet I should talk to about costumes, or should I just go to you for now?" He already had an idea for Sweeney's costume, no matter who would be playing him.

[Phoenix Phillips]

Fail, fail, fail! Somehow, Phoenix had managed to be late for the first Drama Club Meeting of the semester - the time which Mr. Bond would almost certainly be letting them know which play they would be doing, and when he, Phoenix, would be able to see what part he wanted to try out for!

Actually, it wasn't unusual for Phoenix to be late for things; the problem was, he was involved in so much and his mind was so jumpy that he could rarely keep track of where he was supposed to be and when. On the off chance that he wasn't literally running in late, chances were his "sauntering in on time" he was actually mistaken about the proper time and thus not on time at all.

Today was a running in late day.

He grinned widely at those in the room as the door slammed loudly behind him, then he slipped himself in close to Isaac, giving his good friend a quick hug as he glanced over his shoulder at the script.

"OMG Sweeney Todd, awesome! Oh! Oh! If I don't get a part - I mean, I'm going to try out, of course, but just in case - I'll be the stage manager!"

Phoenix Phineas Phillips, Stage Manager? Oh please, whichever God is up in Heaven, save the world - and the play - if it was ever so.

[Zachary LaRousse]

“Wait what?!” It took a while for it to register in Zac’s head that they weren’t doing RHPS. “But what did…I mean that…who-oh darn it. Never mind.” It was no use arguing anyway. It’s not that he regrets going out looking like a stripper (he says it helps him maintain his perceived ‘stud’ status around the school), but it’s just that he felt a bit cheated. After all, he was so psyched when he heard that (apparently misleading) rumor about what play they’d present that he actually researched for his preferred part. He’d be lying if he said that his enthusiasm for the drama club/class presentation went down a few notches because of his misfortune.

Feeling a little betrayed, he grabbed a copy of the script from Mr. Bond’s hand and grudgingly walked towards Isaac (Stella’s glow apparently escaped him). “Hi Dork,” he muttered, waving as he sat down beside him. He didn’t even snap at Phoenix when he entered the room late and incredibly noisy. “This won’t hurt the chances of me getting the lead role, wouldn’t it?” Because heaven knows that Zac would settle for anything less than the spotlight now.

[Darryl Bond]

It was having students like Zac and Sam that caused Darryl to be the "Dramallama." He facepalmed with an audible smack as Zac strode in with nothing but the gold shorts on. Darryl had been cast as Rocky, once upon a time. This was a living nightmare, as another thing reminded Darryl of how much the two were alike (minus the whole spoiled absolutely rich thing). He sighed. "Zac...What made you think that we were...? Nevermind. I don't even want to..." He shook his head, in complete disbelief. That just isn't happening. He scratched his stubble as he looked away, he couldn't even acknowledge him anymore.

"You guys aren't too late, just sit down," he waved his hand at them as he spoke and as he walked around handing out the scripts. He placed Stella's special large print script in front of her and then turned to Isaac at his question. "All positions are gonna be assigned after the auditions. I know a few of you already probably don't even want to be in the play, but I want everyone to at least /try/. Also; as part of the auditions, everyone will put on a little light and music show using the sound board--everyone. Especially my class because of the grades. The first performance will be your Final exam. No, I don't expect the auditions to be perfect, they will be next week." That would probably get some argument so he immediately held up his hands to stop any rebuttal.

"We gotta get a jump on this play to finish it all in time and we don't have enough time to get everything perfect. The audition will be without costume, and only a few lines. I'll give out the pages for the auditions of the different characters after you all have had a chance to--Dear Lord, Zac cover yourself!" He couldn't take it. That boy.

[Annabella Rae]

Bell ran into the room. She was late as usual, she was always at least a few minuets late, but on the plus side she alway’s showed up, even when she wasn’t needed. She would show up to every practice, not just tech week. As she ran threw the door she let out her normal greeting, “I’m here sorry i’m lat...AHHH ZAC, get some cloths on!”...ok the second part wasn’t normal, she didn’t normally walk into the room to see zac dressed like some boxer prostitute either though,. She didn’t mind nudity, just not like that, all flung in her face. “Oh God, you have to give a girl a little warning before you bounce that on her!” She said.

She looked around she had been in drama ever since she got here, but she was a die hard techie, never a actor. She looked at Mr. Bond. She kept telling herself her little pep talk in her head. ‘your a junior, you've been a techie for every production, you’ve worked almost every part of tech crew there is, you know the rules of theater, just ask’

“Mr. Bond, is it to late to apply for the role of assistant stage manager?” She asked ringing her hands nervously.