fandomhigh | "Yes, And:" Improv Theatre and You, Wednesday, Period One

Jono was in an impressively good mood this week, having made it through the weekend more or less unscathed. He could live with being a slightly more obnoxious version of himself with significantly less trauma than he carried around with him these days. He'd been there and done that, after all. Fed some ducks. Fed some cats.

It was basically a normal weekend, but with more wrapping his face and less actually opening the Groovy Tunes.

//Morning, class,// he greeted, once it looked like everyone had filed into the Danger Shop. //This week, we're going to play a game called Ding. You'll pair off, start playing a scene, and whenever I ring this bell,// he picked up a cowbell and gave it a clang by way of demonstration, //whatever you just did in that scene? Do something different. Say you walk into the scene and say that it's a lovely day. I ring the bell. Say something else. Announce that you're looking forward to a party, or point into the distance and shout about a tornado. Carry on the scene with your edit, ignoring whatever was discarded when the bell rang. Every ring of the bell means you'll have to come up with something new off the top of your head. Please, try not to get too frustrated if you find that you have to backtrack often.//

He didn't want to have things get thrown at him, after all.

//Just to give you all a starting point, pick a nursery rhyme or a fairy tale that you're fond of, and play off that. Red Riding Hood going through the woods to bring her gran some treats-// he rang the bell, //that is, to set up the football game for her on pay per view. If you're telling even remotely the same story when you're done than you were when you started, I clearly didn't ring the bell enough.//

Clearly.

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Look, Dante wasn't judging, he was just extremely confused. And maybe a little weirded out. About your skeletal robot hand, Rhys.

"The hell is that?" he asked, walking over to Rhys, since no explanation seemed incoming.

"...a hand?" Rhys said slowly, like he was examining it to a child. This is what happens when you give him three freaking classes and no job.

"Yeah, no shit," Dante said irritably. "You didn't used to have it, smartass."

"I told you I was building one." He basically told everyone that. Because he missed his arm, okay? He had some separation anxiety with his arm. "You carried parts for me."

"I know, but I didn't think you were actually gonna build a freaky-ass robot hand," Dante said. "Lemme see."

... He'd get to the assignment in a second or three.

"What did you think I was going to do? Grow a clone and harvest their arm?" Rhys asked with an admittedly douchey laugh like he was humoring Dante here. "Everyone knows that doesn't work."

Oh, Hyperion.

Yeahhh, Dante could just say 'stop saying weird shit and generally being an asshole', but again, his expressions were pretty vivid and expressive in communicating stuff like that.

Like this one.

Which is why Rhys sighed, rolled his eye and held up his hand for Dante to see. Get on his weird video game level, Dante.

Probably by panicking and running around in a circle while being shot at.

Dante's video game level was more 'executing cool combos and hitting things really hard with sharp objects while defying gravity'. Sorry, Rhys.

"Holy shit," he said, tilting his head it. "And you just built that? And it works?"

"I knew the basics from my other arm," Rhys replied defensively. He curled his fingers up into a fist before straightening them again with little clicks as the machinery moved.

He'd mostly been a code monkey at Hyperion, but he was ambitious.

Rhys needed to stop assuming everyone here was some jaded professional used to Hyperion crap. The arm was cool. If creepy.

"You gonna spruce this up more?" Dante said, attempting to reach out and touch it. "'Cause this version's very Halloween."

Rhys would assume what he wanted! He'd assume everything wanted to kill him and that robotics were a little meh. Once you met a CL4P-TP unit, you'd understand, Dante.

"I'm going to work on a better one once I get my eye done. I miss depth perception."

Didn't they all?

Edited 2016-09-14 12:47 (UTC)

"You're really going to screw around in there?" Dante said, waving at his empty socket. "Better you than me."

And that had been three dings, so far. He sighed. "We should probably get this show on the road."

They were super studious here.

Rhys shrugged, looking less awkward now that his other shoulder had something in it to make the gesture look normal. It would... be not fun to sync it up with his brain again. But better than being half blind if you asked him. "Uh, what are we supposed to do again?"

"Pretend like we're playing a fairy tale and change it up every time he dings or something?" Dante offered. "This improv shit is weird."

And Rhys wasn't a Pandoran con artist to be good at this bullshit. Uuuugh.

"Okay, uh... oh no, there's a princess in a tower?"

"Yeah? What's she doing up there?"

Dante was taking this soooo seriously.

"Being... a... princess?" Rhys ventured slowly. Wow, he was great at this.

Ding.

"Maybe she's not actually a princess," Dante said casually. "How can you tell?"

"Towers, princesses. They sort of go together," Rhys replied sarcastically. "I don't know, you're the one with both eyes here. For the... fake... princess. Thing."

"Could be a dragon who's just pissy about people judging his life choices," Dante said.

Smirking.

"A cross dressing dragon."

Ding.

"Hosting a tea party for princesses or whatever."

Dante made his eyes comically big because seriously this thing was so ridiculous.

"With a bunch of skags in funny hats." It was funnier if you knew what a skag was, Rhys.

"...What's a skag?" Dante said.

That wasn't how the game went, dude.

Re: Ding!

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