Note: Whee, update! Now my hair is purple. :P I was thinking about writing a wacky OC story... -schemes-
Heh heh heh... acting! Well, I'm very untalkative right now. O.o I wonder why? Meh! Purple eggplant hair! MRAH. The poking fun at drama kids is because I am one. XD My hair's all fadey again... :( Ah, well. The teacher IS based off someone... the drama teacher at my school. God, she's hilarious. When she's really into something, she's very... excitable. :P She's a funny lady.
I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.
They reset my hits count! Buggers!
A Different Kind of Genius
Kawaii Chibi Kitty Angel
Jonouchi slipped in the infamous drama room nervously, clutching the sheet. "O-ohayo?" Sixteen sets of eyes precisely- 'Would that make thirty-two eyes?' he wondered- followed him as he crossed towards the desk in quick, long strides, nervous about all these eccentric, odd looking people, focussed directly on his face. The sensei, a pretty woman with long, curly blonde hair and a beautiful white smile, looked up expectantly from the desk. "Hai?"
He fidgeted. "I- I'd like to join the program for the play."
He stepped back as an enormous smile spread across Morgan-sensei's face, the famous, heart-melting smile he had heard rumours about, and she very nearly made a noise that sounded like a squeal of delight. With a liquid motion between a stride and a bound, she was out from behind the desk and examining him from all angles, short and small and all smiles and cheerful intense optimism. He swallowed and began edging back towards the door.
"You're PERFECT!" She chirped, grabbing his hands and dragging him through the crowd of teenagers towards a series of large plain wooden wardrobes. 'Craaap...' He thought. 'What've I gotten myself into?'
Throwing open the doors with a markedly dramatic flair, he noticed, she began to whip out clothing, press it to his chest- entire face drawn outwards with excitement, blue eyes wide and glittering- and then make a small, discontented noise, and whip it away again. He stepped back, startled and somewhat lost as to exactly what to do in such proceedings. The sensei, he noticed, had an obsessive colour-coordination habit- the entire cupboard looked like a carefully formulated rainbow, and she always replaced the garment removed in the exact spot it came from, tucked quietly between other such riotous colours.
It was with a vague creeping horror that he registered the squeak of delight she emitted as she pressed along, corsetted dress against him, the most vivid green he had seen beyond the lawns of places like the Kaiba mansion, complete with a cresting series soft ivory ruffles burbling out of the deep, plush neckline, creating the false illusion of a bust. The same ivory ruffles also filled the end of the long, trailing sleeves, lighting the green like something pulled from an eighteenth century painting. A long slit ran from upper thigh level to the floor. It was beautiful, except for one fact... it was blatantly meant for a male actor, as one could see from the padding added on the bust and hips. He backed away slowly, followed by the eyes of multitudes of drama kids, all looking somewhat like the zombies from Dawn of the Dead. He groaned as she gave him another one of her heart-melting smiles, the dress in one hand and a frequently highlighted script in the other.
"I have a feeling I'm going to regret this," he said, taking the bridge of his nose between two fingers.
- - - - -
Kaiba Seto intruded on the drama room approximately two hours and a half after Jonouchi, grunting as he shoved a lingering drama student out of the way. He had things to do- people to meet. And this meeting with the drama teacher was interrupting his meticulate schedule quite badly.
However, in order to obtain the necessary spot in Tokyo University's business program- not so much for the experience as for the highly prized contacts it might win him in the prized American/European market- he, for some reason, required a some proof as to his abilities in cooperative situations. Dramatic arts with the most accessible and least demanding of the options.
He approached the woman at the desk, a woman whom he observed to demonstrating her teaching skills entirely too enthusiastically to a young woman in glasses who looked slightly exasperated. He tapped her lightly on the shoulder, and she turned, blondes curls bouncing. "Morgan-sensei?" He asked, voice little more than a carefully controlled growl.
"Hai? Oh!" She smiled winningly up at him. "You must be the new student who signed up this morning, ne? Kaiba-san, is it?" She scrutinized him with a large blue eye. "How would you feel about an antagonistic part, Kaiba-san?" She queried.
His mouth curled up at the side, and his eyebrows rose. A spark of interest fell and grew in the pit of his stomach, lighting aflame his curiousity.
"I think I'd enjoy that, Morgan-san."
She smiled. "Of course, the auditions are required..." she said, tilting her head forward. "But I know a born actor when I see one... both you and the other boy are." Suddenly, before he even had the chance to inquire, she burst into a grin. "So let's see how you do, Kaiba-san!"
She ushered him onto the stage before he could even utter a sound.
- - - - -
"You're a girl?"
Honda Hiroto sprayed laughter at the blonde across the table, whose nose was going a nearly unnoticeable shade of pink at the tip from embarrassment. "Come on, Honda!" He whispered fiercely. "Shut up! This is not funny... we're not even performing a pre-written, famous play- we're performing something one of the students wrote!" He groaned and rubbed his scalp with the tips of his fingers. Honda continued to laugh. Disgruntled, Jonouchi turned to Motou Yugi, best friend and confidante. Yugi smiled at him sweetly, his hair an array of tri-coloured spikes above him that was strikingly threatening looking in contrast to his gentle round face. "Yugi-chan, you don't think it's that bad, do you?" He asked sullenly.
Yugi smiled. "Ie, of course not." He laughed, his face working into the network of friendly creases, around the eyes and mouth, that Jonouchi knew it would take to at the age of forty or fifty. "There's nothing wrong with experiencing challenging roles- they help define a person." He grinned a little wider, tilting his head to the side. "Besides, maybe the girls will treat you nicer if they feel like you understand them." The short tenth grader winked, and Jonouchi couldn't help but laugh.
"Arigato, Yugi-chan," He laughed, then sighed, and gathered up his lunch and his bag. "But I have to go... there's a lunch rehearsal today- we're rehearsing the first scene." Yugi slumped a little, but nodded.
"See you, Jonouchi-chan." He waved a little as Jonouchi began the long trudge down to the drama wing.
"Someone remind me why I'm doing this?"
- - - - -
Kaiba Seto snorted, looking in the mirror at his reflection. The full-faced black silk mask he had across his face, a long oval with slits for eyes and vague bumps to accommodate facial features, gave the cold illusion of facelessness, even with strands of his gleaming chestnut hair playing across it. It made his eyes look all the bluer, he thought, and snorted. The rest of his costume was an extravagantly tailored cape, long and full-bodied and billowing, and covering him throat to the floor. 'I look like something from Phantom of the Opera,' he thought, not entirely unamused. He ran a gloved hand through his hair, smirking behind the mask.
There is a very distinct sound to one who has never walked in high-heels before- it almost sounds like the clip-clopping of a horse. And there was never a more obvious novice to these menaces of womenkind then the young woman who walked up the short flight of stairs onto the stage that moment.
She was fascinating looking, with long, gleaming auburn curls, as deeply toned as the dark curtains around them. He could see from here the thin line of the wig, but it only intrigued him further. Her eyes looked yellow in light of the tawny gold tones they had used to light her face, and a curler and mascara had made her eyelashes so long they nearly reached her high, thin eyebrows. Her cheekbones, not particularly pronounced naturally, were highlighted with a light, glistening bronzer, and below them, a dark mahogany tone. But what startled him was her lips.
Full, and dark as plums; a dark line of pencil was drawn beneath the lower lip, undoubtably to make it seem fuller. The colour on the lips, wide and full themselves, was an extremely reflective deep red that matched her hair almost to a tee. She looked strangely feral, in her long, green Victorian dress and long auburn wig, with those beautiful, haunted gold eyes. He eyed her appreciatively. 'If I went for girls, I'd certainly go for her,' he thought, amused.
He bowed to her, and she stepped back, but did not blush. He smiled beneath his mask. There was a strangely comforting anonymity about the mask. It let him relax.
Jonouchi groaned. 'Five minutes as a girl and already guys are hitting on me!' he thought despairingly, glancing over at the tall, masked figure lurking in the corner. 'Damn, if you're going to come on to me, make sure I'm me first!' He sulked over to the edge of the stage, sitting down on a large block painted as a di, and pulled the slit of the dress closed dourly, not wanting to witness the waxed monstrosities of his legs.
He was slightly perturbed by what he had read so far in the first act; as far as he could tell, he was in the leading role, which made him nervous; He also had to submit to being touched rather a lot by the males of the show... which, while he didn't mind so much, the prospect of people actually thinking he was a girl didn't enthuse him much.
What was worse? The play was a musical.
It was about a singer, not fantastically pretty, or entirely too talented at academia, kept neatly fed and tidied in the houses of the rich, who was bought out from her position in middling nobility into the home of a mysterious man who was reputed to deal in... unnatural practices. Witchcraft, persay. Occultism. Satanic rituals and all that. But she took the job, quite gladly- 'Little gold-digger,' Jonouchi thought uncharitably- on the idea of perhaps wooing the man, whom she had heard, from several, ah, 'reliable sources' was either old, sick, or crippled. Any of the three and she believed she would be able to dispose of him neatly, and retire into a good deal of money. For she was very clever, and very ruthless.
However, on arrival at the house, there was a certain... misunderstanding as she encountered the master of the house. And it became more about escape than seduction; at least from her side. Jonouchi shivered. 'He's going to be touching me constantly!' He thought, slightly panicked. 'In the first half of the first act alone, he's already brushing my elbow with his fingertips, resting his hands on my hips and sneaking up on me... fuck, I have a feeling I'm going to have a couple moments where my pretty tenor... correction, 'alto'... scream is going to be very in character. God, that guy is creepy.'
Jonouchi sighed, and scrubbed his palms- 'Manicured nails and all,' he thought disgustedly- along his dress, looking through the corner of his eye at the tall, dark-haired boy lurking around the teacher, seemingly very intent on what she was saying- he assumed he was intent, unable to see past the mask... or past his nose. He sighed once more, the stays of his corset creaking. The teacher turned and smiled brilliantly at him. A chill ran down his spine- he had learned quite quickly that a smile of that magnitude of sweetness contained something evil. 'Like a female role,' he sulked sourly.
"On the set in five, four..."
- - - - -