7

Part 7

After hammering out the last of the details I moved onto my last class.

Namely Drama.

Most days I considered it somewhere between a waste of time and a place to relax. The only real reason I was in it was that Winslow required a minimum of one 'Arts' credit and I was a natural born ham.

This wasn't to say Drama was bad, just... not really useful. It was underfunded, the costumes were mostly old or homemade, and the room didn't have proper soundproofing, so we were sharply limited in what performances we could play. To say nothing of trying to act over the racket the music class could stir up due to their equally insufficient soundproofing.

But really it was just a fun place to kick back and have fun a lot of the time. That I was technically learning helped. And by the looks of things learning to cross-stich might come in handy soon.

For a moment the tinfoil hat brand conspiracy nut in me wondered if the lack of funds was somehow deliberate, to let Mr. Kite teach the next generation of superhumans know how to properly make a costume.

I immediately dismissed it as utter paranoia. I mean some of the thinker conspiracies uncovered in the government were pretty crazy, but why that was taking things a couple steps to far.

It didn't stop me from, uh... 'borrowing' a basic eye mask from the props room while we were working on a very basic recital of 'Tiger Tiger Burning Bright'.

Actually in hindsight that was kind of a ballzy classic to use considering our town actually had a tiger themed super villain in it. I somehow doubted it was a declaration of support to said cape given Stormtiger was a neo-nazi and Mr. Kite was a bit too black to properly fit in with that crowd.

I actually kind of liked Mr. Kite. He was an older teacher, burnt out in an obvious way but he didn't pretend otherwise. He was running on rote unless you poked him the right way, but it was a rote well practiced. He knew his stuff, what we'd listen to what we wouldn't, and basically just cut down the bullshit to the absolute bare minimum.

You could even get some really interesting stuff out of him if you asked the right questions, though that took a bit more effort then most students were willing to invest.

...It was kinda funny how much all this new knowledge effected how I thought of people. It wouldn't make me suddenly walk up and hug Tony and tell him how much I understood why he did what he did. The ass was an ass, but... my perception had expanded. And I found myself getting things I hadn't really bothered to think about before.

Was this the difference of having lived another 'life', or was it just the difference in relative age?

It was some deep shit man. Heavy. And it wasn't like I could just talk about it to someone else. Even if I didn't mind looking like a nutjob, I literally couldn't talk about it out loud.

It was like a... chain around my throat.

A Geas.

Huh, now that brought an idea to mind.

"Never liked hotdogs anyway," I muttered to myself as the bell rung, and I made my way outside, having survived yet another day of highschool.

I really needed to test out of this place...

I debated waiting for a moment to wait for one of my friend to walk part of the way with them, or even just talk. Heck if I spotted Taylor I might be able to work on the comic book thing for a bit, but at the same time I was kind of eager to get home.

Once I did that I could start up my more active preparations, and with them, take my first real step to becoming a hero.

...Well once I figured out where I was going to get the four hundred bucks I needed for a half decent costume.