Chapter #5Acting workshop by: Yote   "Hey. Buddy. Wake up."
Groggy, you open your eyes. A lanky boy with a large nose and thin, dirt-coloured hair stands over you, jabbing you with his foot. He steps back furtively as you sit up. His resemblance to a rat seems fitting considering the dismal accomodation - a sparse, small room of bare stone with only hay for bedding. Several textbooks lay open beside you. You must have fallen asleep reading them.
"Who are you?" you groan, picking itchy straw from your shirt. "What do you want?"
"I'm your new roommate. Nathan." He shakes your hand, his fingers like loose bones beneath yours.
"Pleased to meet you, Nathan," you yawn. "What time is this?"
"Day break soon. They'll be serving breakfast soon; the Father said I should eat something before lessons. You looked out of it so I figured I'd best wake you."
You dress, stiff from the uncomfortable, cold night of sleep, and walk the corridors of the jade college to the great hall, where you sit shivering in the icy drafts, watching the pink dawn creep through the long windows. Nathan wolfs down a bowl of porridge and goes back for more. You think he needs it, the kid looks painfully thin.
"You gonna eat that?" he asks of your porridge, having finished his second helping. You push it across the table to him. In all honestly, your nerves have got the best of you, sapping your appetite.
After breakfast you join the movement of people towards the lecture theater. Surrounded by strange faces, you find yourself sticking close to Nathan and the two of you find room together on one of the long benches at the rear of the theater.
A wizard enters, tall and handsome with pale blonde, wavey hair. He wears a fine, crimson doublet with matching, flared pantaloons. There is something vaguely effeminate about him as he introduces himself to the class as Mr Peacock; he reminds you less of a wizard and more of the men of the acting troupe that visited your town one year. Indeed, as he begins to outline the lesson ahead, you realise that's exactly what he is.
"Now you lucky, lucky people have all demonstrated sufficient skill with shapeshifting already to be fast-tracked straight to me, so for my lessons we won't be memorizing incantations or working on self-image construction and visualization. What we're going to be doing is a little thing I like to call "role play". Acquiring a form is the easy part. Becoming that form - by which I mean immersing yourself in the form, perfecting the physicality, mastering the mannerisms, learning the attitude and the language - these are the things you need to be practicing. Now, could you open your desks and take out the character sheets provided."
Inside your desk, you find a piece of parchment. It has been divided into sections for race, gender and various statistics and attributes. At the same time, from within the lectern the teacher produces two wizard hats, their brims overflowing with little folded scraps of paper.
"Each of you will be randomly assigned both a form and a personality. For the next two days, you are not allowed to leave these forms nor break character except during lessons. In this hat here I have your forms. In this one, your personalities. When I read out your details, write them in the character sheet provided. Oh, and if any of you are worried about feeling embarrassed at being made to play roles you wouldn't normally, don't worry..." He flashes the students a wicked grin. "As an added incentive, anyone found breaking character will be given ten lashes."
A buzz of concerned whispering breaks out in the room. The lecturer raises his hands in apologetic surrender. "I didn't make the rules, my darlings, that's just how it is. So, shall we begin? Eric Armstrong?"
A boy on the second row raises his hand. The lecturer digs into one of the hats, flourishing a scrap of paper. "Covetous," he declares, plucking a second slip from the other hat. "Elf."
The Covetous Elf gives an audible sigh of relief and begins to fill in his character sheet. The lecturer moves on to the next student, finding Gregarious Goblin, and continues to proceed alphabetically. You wait with mounting nerves until he calls out your name.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author