Birdsong

>“Hello, Maxwell!”
>“Hello Cold. It has been a while since we last spoke.”
>“Sorry about that. I’ve been really busy with theater club.”
>“I did not know you had joined a club. How is it?”
>“Really fun. Are you in any clubs?”
>“No.”
>“You should join theater club! We can hang out together!”
>“I wish I could, but I cannot join any clubs.”
>“Why not?”
>“I am not allowed to.”
>“Oh. I’m sorry.”
>“It is alright. You can just tell me everything that happens at the club. It will be a little like me being in the club.”
>“Alright. Well, yesterday we….”

***

The piles of broken wood and spilled paint created a visual record of Ivory’s attempts at set building. It was probably for the best that she had the rest of the school year to work on this. And that the school seemed to have an unlimited budget for art supplies.

Alright. Third time… fourth time… fifth? Fifth time’s the charm. She was going to create a backdrop of rolling meadows and it was going to be beautiful, even if it took her all week!

Ivory’s efforts at painting were interrupted by the sound of singing. She didn’t recognize the tune, but it was the most entrancing sound she had ever heard. A quick look around made it clear that the sound wasn’t coming from anyone backstage. She followed the song, filled with the need to know who its source was. The trail led her onto the main theater stage, where the Convocation was singing and dancing. The room was dark, save for a flashlight on the ground lighting up the Convocation. No one sat in the audience, yet she moved with a passion that showed in every graceful movement.

Ivory didn’t dare speak, lest she disrupt the magic. Hesitantly she took a step on stage. Sadly, that step hit against a loose part of the floor, causing Ivory to fall forward. She grabbed onto the stage curtains, but rather than stop her fall, the curtains tore off and fell with her.

Convocation jumped at the sudden sound, and ran off the stage without a look back. By the time Ivory had dug herself out of the curtains, Convocation was long gone.

***

It wasn’t a surprise when Salmacis found Wooden missing from their usual table in the cafeteria. Wooden had said she was going to be busy with club activities during lunch. Still, even an expected disappointment is a disappointment. Lunch alone was hardly an entertaining sounding idea. With a heavy sigh, Salmacis resigned herself to this burden.

“Excuse me, but aren’t you Ichor’s sister?”

A group of older girls had approached Salmacis’s table. She recognized the one who had spoken; a junior, with green hair and eyes. She’d seen the girl and her group around school before, but never spoken with any of them. “Um… yes?” Salmacis cautiously replied.

The lead one clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is perfect! I’m Mother of Snakes. It’s so good to meet you.”

“I’m Salmacis. It’s… good to meet you too.” She was still unsure how she was supposed to act in a situation such as this. What little she knew about this group hadn’t made her think they were the sort to strike up a conversation with her.

“I’m a classmate of Ichor.” Snakes continued. “I’m sure she’s mentioned me before?”

“No, she… um… she’s never once talked about you.”

Snakes’ smile didn’t flinch at all. “Oh that is just so like her! Isn’t that just like her, girls?” Everyone in the group voiced their agreement. Snakes turned back to Salmacis. “Can we sit with you?”

That was certainly not a question Salmacis had expected to be asked. “Um. Sure?”

“Thanks!” The girls sat around Salmacis, crowding the table. “I’m sorry if we’re bothering you.” Snakes said. “You just looked so alone, I figured you’d like someone to talk to.”

The kindness surprised Salmacis. When the majority of students at a school are personality-less shadows, any interaction with someone else felt like a gift. “Thank you” She said, brightly smiling.

The conversations these girls had tended to be focused on topics such as fashion, relationships, or social events. It was nothing like what Salmacis and Wooden talked about when it was just them at the table, and Salmacis was fascinated by the novelty. She listened intently, soaking in all the information she could about this strange new social world.

“And have you seen that physics assignment Mr. Beakman gave?” Snakes said. “I don’t understand a word of it, and he was no help when I asked about it!”

Ah, school! There was a topic Salmacis was used to discussing. “I don’t think Mr. Beakman is that bad.” She said. “At least, for his freshman class.”

“Really? Why don’t you look at what he’s giving us juniors.” Snakes pulled a worksheet out of her purse (backpacks were sooooo unfashionable, according to her,) and showed it to Salmacis. The content was all new, but after a while of looking it over, she thought she understood it. She got out her pencil, and began working through the math.


“Then we just multiply these together… and there! I think that’s how it’s supposed to be done.” She said.

“Wow, you’re so smart!” Snakes said. Salmacis was still looking at the physics assignment, and thus didn’t see Snakes wink at the rest of the group. “Maybe you could help me out with the rest of the work he’d given us?”

“Sure!” Salmacis said. No reason to not help out people who’ve been so nice to her, right?”

“Thanks! Also there’s a little math and history that you could help me on as well….”

Theater Club

Wooden examined the volunteers like a general examining her troops. Though it is unlikely that even the worst equipped army contained such a rag tag group. Most of the theater students were indistinct shadows, while the choir and band students appeared to be uniformly covered in a gray fungus. A disappointingly small number of students had responded to Wooden’s recruitment. Salmacis was the only new band member. Dying, Intrusion, and Cold had all joined theater. Ivory had offered her assistance in set design. And then there was…

“Mr. Dooling?” Wooden said. “Who is that?”

“Her?” Mr. Dooling checked his attendance sheet. “That’s Convocation. She just signed up this morning. Apparently she liked the posters Ivory made.”

Convocation was tall and slim, with raven black hair that matched her shirt and skirt. Her yellow eyes darted around the room to follow every sound. She constantly fidgeted in place, as if standing still took too much effort and she was moments away from taking off.

So someone had actually responded to the posters. Given how apathetic the other recruits seemed, that surprised Wooden a little. When it seemed that no one else was coming, Wooden stepped up to the front of the room and began to speak. “Okay, so you all know why you’re here….”

“I don’t!” Intrusion’s voice buzzed out. “You just grabbed us and told us to join theater!”

“… Oh. Well, let me explain why you’re here. Empty High is going to enter the Annual Amateur Musical Competition. You all are going to be taking part in it.”

“A musical? Come on, musicals are lame.” Dying said.

Wooden’s glare could have burned through a tank. “What did you say?”

“I… uh… that musicals are… lame….”

Wooden stomped up to Dying until they were standing nose to nose. “I will have you know that musicals are a highly respected form of theater.” She hissed. “It is an art, and I will not have it disrespected by some uncultured troglodyte. Am I clear?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“Good.” She stepped back to give Dying space.  “Now that we all know why we’re here, I’ll hand it over to Mr. Steward for instructions.”

***

There are two kinds of people in the world: the good, and the evil. Black and white, with only a thin line keeping them apart. It was the sworn duty of a Hall Monitor to protect that line, and keep the just people of the world safe from the hordes of darkness. A heavy burden, but a burden which Judgment was willing to carry. Some might claim that a Hall Monitor wasn’t all that important in the grand scheme. Such people had never seen the daily battle against the forces of anarchy which Judgment fought in every day.

Two agents of such anarchy were right in front of him. The Brute and the Burning Bride, brazenly wandering around the hallways during class time. “Hey! You two!” Judgment shouted. They ignored him. “Brute! Burning Bride!” Still, they made no response. Judgment ran up to them, waving his badge as if it were a talisman which could banish such disobedience.

“Oh. Hey Judgment.” Bride said. “How’s that Kindergarten Cop thing treating you?” The Brute merely glowered from behind his raggedy beard.

Judgment graciously chose to ignore that comment. “Where are you two going?”

“Oh, you know. Places.” Bride said.

“Places?”

“Yeah. Places to go, people to see. That stuff.”

“Uh-huh. And where are you hall passes?”

“Our passes? Hm. Brute, what happened to our passes?”

The Brute shrugged. Even Judgment couldn’t help being transfixed by the shifting of muscles needed for that motion. It was like watching a mountain move.

“Well, there you have it.” Bride said. “We don’t know where our passes are. Must have lost them.”

“If you don’t have a pass, you’ll need to come with me.”

“Pffff, yeah that’s not happening.”

“I wasn’t asking. You WILL come with me.” He began to reach for the Bride, but was stopped when her hand grabbed his wrist.

“Or else you’ll do what?”

Judgment had always thought of Bride as being small and frail. It only then dawned on him that when standing next to Brute, everyone looked small and frail. Up close he could see that Bride had enough muscle that it probably wouldn’t be hard for her to snap him in half. This was not a comforting thought to have while she had a solid grip on him.

“What’s going on here?” Another voice said.

Slender Man was approaching down the hallway, faceless head looking over the other three students. Bride let go of Judgment, who quickly ran behind Slender. “These two delinquents were refusing to come with me when I caught them skipping class!”

“Skipping class? That’s not possible. I saw Mr. proxiehunter write them passes.”

“You… what?”

“Yes. He needed them to pick up some class supplies for him. He said it was very important.”

“But… they….”

“Very important. I hope you didn’t take up too much of their time, since you know Mr. proxiehunter wouldn’t like them being delayed.”

“I… well….” All of Judgment’s eyes glared at Brute and Bride. “I suppose I can let them off this time. You two should be grateful that someone so respectable was willing to vouch for you!” Then he stormed off to find other victims.

As soon as Judgment was out of earshot, Slender and Bride burst into laughter. There might have even been a smile on Brute’s face. Possibly. “Ah man… did you hear what he called you, Slends? Respectable?” Bride said. “Man, if I knew wearing a suit would let me get away with that much, I’d have started wearing one long ago.” Slowly the two managed to stifle their laughter. “Anyways, Brute and I are going to meet Archie over at the quarry. Wanna come with?”

“Sorry, I can’t.” Slender held up a formidably large looking book titled ‘City Records’. “I have some research to do.”

“Playing hooky to study? Slends, man, you’re supposed to skip class to get away from that stuff.”

“Sorry. But this is important.”

“If you say so…. But if you change your mind, you know where to find us.”

***

Wooden’s stare was the dead gaze of one who had seen hell itself. Salmacis was almost too afraid to approach her friend, and confront that soulless gaze. “Um… Wooden?” She built up the courage to say. “How…?”

“It was terrible.” Wooden dully said. “We did auditions for parts. I never thought anyone could be so bad at acting.”

“Oh. That’s, um….” Salmacis had actually had a quite enjoyable time with the band students. She still wasn’t sure how everyone was able to play their instruments while covered in that fungus, but it had sounded good. And Mr. Dooling had been helpful while explaining the basics of band to her. “Well, it is their first day. Maybe they’ll get better?”

Wooden shrugged. “I don’t know if I have the patience to wait for that. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I’ll go talk to Mr. Steward. He’ll understand if I ask for this to be called off….” Wooden stopped as she noticed someone walking up to her and Salmacis. It was the one with the pale hair, who’d come alone. His name was… Wooden tried to dredge up the memory. He’d told her his name only the other day, how could she already have… Cold Boy! That was it!

“Hey, um, Wooden?” He said. “I just wanted to, um, thank you.”

“Thank me?” Wooden looked at Salmacis, hoping she would know what Cold was talking about. Salmacis just shrugged.

“Yeah, thank you for inviting me. I wasn’t in any clubs before this, and I was really happy when you asked me to join. I’m looking forward to our next meeting.”

“Yes… our next meeting….”

Wooden was trying to think of how to tell him that there wasn’t going to be another meeting, when Intrusion ran over. “Ah man, this room is awesome!” He said, waving around a blunt sword. “Look at these props! This club is so cool! Don’t you agree, Dying?”

Dying, trailing behind Intrusion, muttered, “It’s okay, I guess.”

“Yeah! Totally awesome! When’s the next meeting?”

“The next meeting… it’s….” Wooden looked at Salmacis for support, but found she was too busy trying to stop from laughing at Wooden’s obvious discomfort. “It’s… this Friday! Same time and place! Hope to see you all there!”

It was only after the other club members left that Salmacis let out her laughter. Wooden glowered at the floor and mumbled, “What else could I say? They put me in a corner….”