Legends of Mirandis Academy

Chapter 3: Drama Club

It was 5:30pm on a Tuesday, which meant that Luna was in her element.

Not that she couldn't adapt to any situation with ease and elegance. Luna prided herself on being an elemental sort of girl. Still, she had to admit that, if there was anywhere that could claim her heart, it was the stage of the theatre.

Everything was in its place. The curtains were pulled back, the house lights were up, the black-painted wood of the stage floor was waxed. Luna's boots clipped pleasantly as they made contact. She flung out her arms and declaimed to the rows of empty seats:

"The artist in her natural pursuit

Must surely, in her passion, bear its fruit!"

"Oh, shit," said Iridia, from behind her.

The other girl had emerged from upstage left: a saw slung over one shoulder, the corresponding saw-horse slung over the other. One of her hands was concealed by a tangled mess of wires and plastic casing, presumably assembled into something.

Luna pointed at it. "What's that?"

"Bandsaw," said Iridia. She hefted it once, and a piece of casing clattered on the floor. "Don't worry, that's a cosmetic part. It'll still work."

"They let you use a bandsaw?" said Luna.

Iridia shrugged. "I know how to break into the tools closet. I found some stuff. Made a bandsaw. Is it cool if we come in here? I wanted to measure some of the dimensions of this place, test some designs I sketched up."

Luna's heart leapt. "Of course! Please, build the universe on this very stage. And—" she dropped her arms, "wait, did you say 'we'?"

The curtain on stage left began to wriggle. "Hello, Luna," it said, in Duran's voice. "Um. Iridia? I think I got stuck."

"Duran!" Luna squealed. She ran over to help him disentangle himself. Duran was carrying an unreasonable quantity of plywood, which had only worsened his situation with the curtain. Nibbles ran excitedly up and down the long planks, on several occasions narrowly avoiding slipping off. As if Duran wasn't holding enough, he also pulled a cart behind him with a variety of carpenter's tools.

"Where should we set up?" asked Iridia. "We can come back, too. The bandsaw is gonna be loud. If you were practicing—"

"I am never not practicing," Luna informed her with a theatrical gesture to her chest. "Rest assured, your bandsaw will not get in my way."

This statement didn't particularly impress Iridia. "Okay," she said, and began strewing cables about. "We're gonna see who's faster. Me with the bandsaw, or Duran with the regular saw and his absurd strength."

"Well, let me know if I can do anything to help!" said Luna, although this was little more than a formality. Luna had neither skill nor interest in handy work, and Iridia was quite protective of her creations.

Instead, Luna checked her watch: 5:40pm. She gazed at the entrance to the auditorium. Sure enough, the door was slowly creeping open. A thin slice of afternoon sun pervaded the space, bright white compared to the orange stage lights.

"Come in!" called Luna, and she beckoned. "Please, come in!"

A freshman boy entered, shyly peering around. Iridia started up the bandsaw, and he jumped. Luna jumped, too, honestly; the loud noise had a gritty aspect to it that she hadn't expected. She checked stage right to make sure that the fire extinguisher was still hanging from the wall. It was, which was good.

The boy ambled uncertainly towards the stage, occasionally eyeing the seats on either side as if in preparation for an ambush. Every time the bandsaw roared to life, his fingers would jump to his ears. Even for a freshman, he was scrawny and small. His black hair clung flat to his skull, and a pair of outsize, round eyes made him appear permanently nervous.