OverMaster
Well worn.
- Joined
- Jun 1, 2018
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There were good and bad things about being in the Drama Club, as there are in everything, and Murakami Natsumi always tried her best to not be, well, a drama queen about it. She would give her clubmates the benefit of the doubt whenever they would draw straws to see who'd end up cleaning the stage after practices, and if Natsumi was the one the most often tasked with such duties, well, Natsumi would stomach it out and not jump into pointless accusations she never could win, even if dammit, by now she really wanted to argue for a normal system of taking turns per day of the month.
The fact her clubmates were all actresses and actors at least as qualified as she was made it difficult to tell whether they ever cheated or not, in any instance.
Regardless, another day of practice and then cleaning was done already, and Natsumi had finished setting the broom, mop and bucket in the storage room. She was locking the theater up from the outside when she realized she was being watched from a certain distance. Since it was late, her first intinct was to grow panicky, but seeing the person watching her from not so afar was a woman calmed her down, somewhat. Not so much, since she studied with Haruna and lived with Chizuru after all. But a little at least.
The woman was tall and rather reminiscing of Chizuru in figure, but with a more casual, indolent attitude to her standing position. Too mature looking to be a contemporary of Natsumi, so she guessed she had to be a senior, perhaps even a college student. She had long and wavy hot pink hair, with an even longer red coat that generously showed off her large cleavage, plus tight white pants, and tall black boots. She had beautiful blue eyes, and around her neck, there was a brown choker collar almost attached to her vest. A long, but thin enough as to not disturb her overall beauty, scar crossed her smiling face diagonally.
"Oi!" the woman greeted Natsumi with a wide, jaunty smile and wave of hand, walking slowly towards the petite junior with a playful, mayhaps drunken sway to her steps. "Good afternoon, is this the Theater Club of Mahora?"
"Um, y-yes, how do you do," Natsumi said warily, looking up and down at the bustier female's quite accomplished choice of getup. "You… You are here for an audition, aren't you, Sempai? I… I must congratulate you on your costuming, but we aren't having any pirate plays for the Festival, we're aiming for a younger audience this year…"
"Don't you say," the attractive lady grinned, stopping shortly before her, hands on her hips. "What a pity! Your name's Murakami Natsumi, right?"
Natsumi blinked, surprised at the exact wording of the question. Having strangers in costumes asking for the Club was an everyday Mahora occurrence, having someone come specifically asking for her name was unheard of. Could this be… her first ever fan? She nodded slow and rigidly. "Uh, uh-huh, and you would happen to be, Miss…"
"Call me Rider, just Rider," the woman placed a fist on her own chest. "Are you a student of Professor Negi Springfield?"
"Y-Yes, I am…"
"He of the local English Research Society?"
"Last time I heard, yes, but why…"
"Just to be sure, there are a lot of eccentric kids in that club, too, all of them spending a lot of time away from you guys doing secretive, hush-hush stuff that has everyone gossiping really juicy stuff, right?"
Natsumi already was squinting in mild disgust at this slimy onee-san who saw fit to keep up with the junior high rumor mill when a set of particularly nasty memories resurfaced. "Oh, I, I think I see now… You're here to settle something or another with Negi-sensei, aren't you? Y-You aren't related to what with went on in Kyoto, right? L-Look, if you're looking for Konoka-san…"
"I don't know anything about any Kyoto," the woman shrugged that off, interrupting the terrified Natsumi, "but yes, I guess you could say I'm here because of this Negi lad. My Master, you'll see, has a suspicion about him and sent me along to, shall we say, fish around for a response from him, do you get my point here, Hon?"
"N-Not exactly, I'm sorry, b-but I can give you, I mean him, a message from him, I mean you, as soon as you, I mean I, see him, I mean him, tomorrow in classes, since you'll let me go, won't you…"
Rider sighed deep and sadly. "I'm afraid I won't, no. Nothing personal, it's just, well, Master is kind of too much of a coward to go out and directly face this lad, see? So, since the word is he cares so much about all of his students, we figured out safest bet to lure him to us would be going after of you, but not one who could fight back, no offense meant, kid."
"Ah. But I'm going to start screaming for help now."
"We'll be gone long before you're even finished," Rider told her, almost sympathetically, and lunged on her.
The fact her clubmates were all actresses and actors at least as qualified as she was made it difficult to tell whether they ever cheated or not, in any instance.
Regardless, another day of practice and then cleaning was done already, and Natsumi had finished setting the broom, mop and bucket in the storage room. She was locking the theater up from the outside when she realized she was being watched from a certain distance. Since it was late, her first intinct was to grow panicky, but seeing the person watching her from not so afar was a woman calmed her down, somewhat. Not so much, since she studied with Haruna and lived with Chizuru after all. But a little at least.
The woman was tall and rather reminiscing of Chizuru in figure, but with a more casual, indolent attitude to her standing position. Too mature looking to be a contemporary of Natsumi, so she guessed she had to be a senior, perhaps even a college student. She had long and wavy hot pink hair, with an even longer red coat that generously showed off her large cleavage, plus tight white pants, and tall black boots. She had beautiful blue eyes, and around her neck, there was a brown choker collar almost attached to her vest. A long, but thin enough as to not disturb her overall beauty, scar crossed her smiling face diagonally.
"Oi!" the woman greeted Natsumi with a wide, jaunty smile and wave of hand, walking slowly towards the petite junior with a playful, mayhaps drunken sway to her steps. "Good afternoon, is this the Theater Club of Mahora?"
"Um, y-yes, how do you do," Natsumi said warily, looking up and down at the bustier female's quite accomplished choice of getup. "You… You are here for an audition, aren't you, Sempai? I… I must congratulate you on your costuming, but we aren't having any pirate plays for the Festival, we're aiming for a younger audience this year…"
"Don't you say," the attractive lady grinned, stopping shortly before her, hands on her hips. "What a pity! Your name's Murakami Natsumi, right?"
Natsumi blinked, surprised at the exact wording of the question. Having strangers in costumes asking for the Club was an everyday Mahora occurrence, having someone come specifically asking for her name was unheard of. Could this be… her first ever fan? She nodded slow and rigidly. "Uh, uh-huh, and you would happen to be, Miss…"
"Call me Rider, just Rider," the woman placed a fist on her own chest. "Are you a student of Professor Negi Springfield?"
"Y-Yes, I am…"
"He of the local English Research Society?"
"Last time I heard, yes, but why…"
"Just to be sure, there are a lot of eccentric kids in that club, too, all of them spending a lot of time away from you guys doing secretive, hush-hush stuff that has everyone gossiping really juicy stuff, right?"
Natsumi already was squinting in mild disgust at this slimy onee-san who saw fit to keep up with the junior high rumor mill when a set of particularly nasty memories resurfaced. "Oh, I, I think I see now… You're here to settle something or another with Negi-sensei, aren't you? Y-You aren't related to what with went on in Kyoto, right? L-Look, if you're looking for Konoka-san…"
"I don't know anything about any Kyoto," the woman shrugged that off, interrupting the terrified Natsumi, "but yes, I guess you could say I'm here because of this Negi lad. My Master, you'll see, has a suspicion about him and sent me along to, shall we say, fish around for a response from him, do you get my point here, Hon?"
"N-Not exactly, I'm sorry, b-but I can give you, I mean him, a message from him, I mean you, as soon as you, I mean I, see him, I mean him, tomorrow in classes, since you'll let me go, won't you…"
Rider sighed deep and sadly. "I'm afraid I won't, no. Nothing personal, it's just, well, Master is kind of too much of a coward to go out and directly face this lad, see? So, since the word is he cares so much about all of his students, we figured out safest bet to lure him to us would be going after of you, but not one who could fight back, no offense meant, kid."
"Ah. But I'm going to start screaming for help now."
"We'll be gone long before you're even finished," Rider told her, almost sympathetically, and lunged on her.