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Location: Southern Plateau, Dundas Island - Pacific Royal Campus
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Welcome Home #1.87: Hollywood and Glam
As the day went on, everyone had completed the task set out for them and the team came together. Everyone was unaware of what the others talked about. Was there tension still? It was hard to say. Calliope had finished her part with Harper and Mei, the trials having been set up exactly how she had envisioned once she got it going. She was proud of the work, but was she for the conversation had with the other two?
Calli sat next to Banjo, holding his hand as she sat around enjoying the food provided and chuckling at Tad’s attempt at humor. This was what she enjoyed most about PRCU. The unsure girl who got here five years ago, who dealt with trauma and violence, had grown. She had Blackjack to thank for it.
As the night went on Jim came by. Calliope listened intently when he mentioned their degrees. Calliope nearly breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed her degree may not be in jeopardy after all. She squeezed Banjo’s hand as a sign of comfort.
Jim continued though, asking not only for her but for Gil also. Calliope looked around. What did the Chancellor need her for? Was it because of the sink she had obliterated? Surely there were worse things students have done. You don’t bring together a bunch of teenagers with superhuman abilities and not expect them to destroy nearly anyone or anything around them.
“I’ll be back soon,” she told Banjo, worried he would get upset with Gil and her being alone, but they would be with the Chancellor. She stood up and waited for Gil to follow as they went off with Jim.
Gil, meanwhile, slowly chewed his tacos as he made small talk with Firebird. He smiled and nodded to Lorcán as he sat down, but the pair had little chance to catch up before Jim appeared and beckoned him and Calliope forth. Calliope stood first, waiting with a hand on a cocked hip for Gil to follow suit. He pushed the last third of his remaining taco into his mouth, chewing awkwardly around the large mouthful as he stood and brushed himself off, shooting Lorcán and Cassander a pair of finger-guns with an accompanying wink, before jogging after Jim.
“As y’all are both well away, this year has been complicated by the Foundation. Unfortunately with things in the state they are, I’ve been forced to play civil with them until H.E.L.P. can properly rectify things. Which means I need a favour, and I can’t think of two people more qualified to help.”
Jim drew a deep breath before continuing.
“I need y’all to put together a themed dance. Foundation’s first priority is that the students get to express themselves individually so after the Trials are complete, the dress code is going to be nullified. As such, dress uniforms will not be required for the Senior Homecoming dance, meaning we’re looking at doing something a bit more… Hollywood.”
The concept was clearly foreign to Jim as he tried to articulate it.
“So who better to help than Hollywood and the glam,” Jim added motioning to Gil and Calliope respectively.
“Y’all have the A.R.C. at your disposal to program in any environment you see fit for the dance. Full fabrication at your disposal too. If there’s anything else y’all need, let me know and I’ll see what I can do to set y’all up.”
Looking between the pair, Jim tried to gauge their interest while waiting for an answer.
“Now, Mr. Galahad, I know you’re more than accustomed to the particular politics of these sort of situations, we need our best foot forward here. Miss de Léon, I know with your upbringing, y’all are no stranger to them either, and I know right about now you probably want to stick it to those Foundation bastards.” Jim smiled softly.
“Let in y’all in a little secret, I would too.” He added, “But no matter which way the wind blows, it’s our reputation and the school currently at risk. So while you might want to go and shock everyone and burn it all to the ground, all I ask is that if y’all are goin’ to flip the bird to the Foundation, at least try to be subtle about it.”
He stopped, taking the Stetson off his head and extending his arm towards the pair.
“So can I leave it with the two of you?”
Gil nodded carefully.
“No problem. We could all use something to lift our spirits after this morning - throwing a proper bash sounds like the perfect outlet. I know a few of the Blackjack gang are already hyping it up-” he paused here to give Calliope a playful elbow to the ribs, receiving only groans from her and Jim both in response - “and I can imagine everyone else probably is too.”
He took Jim’s hand and gave it a firm shake, releasing it before turning his head to look at Calliope.
“The guys are easy - no cummerbunds and an open bar - but I know the ladies like to splash out. Any early thoughts? Hell, anything you personally reckon is a non-negotiable? As good a place to start as any.”
Calliope was happy to see Gil so interested in this, horrible jokes aside. Now Calli hadn’t wanted to provide the Foundation any modicum of respect, but Tad pointed out that this wasn’t about the Foundation. It was about the students. It was about Blackjack and Firebird and all the other teams. This meant the dance itself would be a night to unwind from the stress and to let loose. And with the dress code being lifted, it also meant going all out.
“First, stock the women’s restrooms with essentials and no, not just tampons. I’m talking perfume spray, breath mints, and you may not want to hear this, but some condoms wouldn’t go amiss either. Second, the ladies will probably wear heels but that gets tiring so make sure there’s a nice mix of slow and fast songs and comfortable chairs. Lastly, we are going to want to remember the night so add in either a photographer or a photo booth. It’s kitschy.” Calli glanced at Gil, seeing if he agreed with her assessment. She had other factors to consider also. Ways to ensure people got back to their dorms safely, little appetizers and hors d'oeuvres to ensure their energies were high, and allowing the romance of the night without “saving room for Jesus” chaperones interfering. But she kept those quiet for now. She would make sure that part of the dance was nice.
Gil nodded sagely as Calliope carried on, one hand on his chin and the other across his chest. She was ever-so practical with it, but while it was all stuff he hadn’t had the presence of mind to even consider, he couldn’t say he was surprised by any of the suggestions. Calliope was easily the most sensible of the team - aside from Harper, maybe, though even she had her sillier moments too - and with her planning starting at these kind of essentials, it was little wonder she was the unofficial Team Mom.
“Sound suggestions.” He said as Calliope looked his way, and he suddenly felt like he’d be very much playing a supporting role in this two-person social committee. Not that he minded - his ‘non-negotiables’ were booze, enough room to dance, and not having to wear a tie. The rest, to him, was all very flexible. “Food and drink to consider…set menu or buffet? At least the venue’s sorted. Some kind of entrance-way with a photo-op? Bring the red-carpet experience to P.R.C.U., although I can personally say it can be a little underwhelming. Theme, too, if we want to steer it in a certain direction…”
He paused for thought, racking his brain for something elegant-but-fun. This wasn’t - didn’t need to be - a high-class endeavor, and he shuddered thinking of some of the more stuffy galas and after-parties he’d attended; but it definitely needed to be more ‘ballroom’ than ‘prom’.
“What did you girls come up with for the Trials? Can we link the two? Between that and the dance, this is the academy’s big ‘this is us’ personality stamp. We splash out, we can show the Foundation they or their threats have not cowed us.”
Calliope thought on it. While she was proud of her and the other’s work on the Trials, she didn’t necessarily think the theme worked for a dance. “The theme we went with was “Young Adult Renegades” or rather close to it. Basically we combined The Hunger Games, Divergent, and Maze Runner into one Trial. I do not know if that will translate to the dance. Plus, I am sure everyone would appreciate something different. What if we do make it a Hollywood theme though? Like you said, roll out the red carpet, hire some paparazzi to take pictures, maybe even ask the students to vote on different categories like Best Dressed or Best Smile and present little awards?”
“Like night-out-at-the-oscars kind of theme? It’s a little close to home, but…yeah, I can dig that.”
Jim regarded the pair with a warm smile, pleased that they’d both taken on the task with grace and eagerness.
“Sounds like y’all have this sewn up like a button already. I’ll leave y’all to your brain-storming - but don’t be forgettin’ about the trials! Hard work first - hard play later.” He winked, and the three returned to the campsite; Gil and Calliope returned to their seats, while Jim said goodbyes to Tad and Jessica, and made his way back to the campus proper.
Calliope had started to make her way to the campfire, but stopped short. Jim's words echoed in her mind. Hard work first, hard play later. She knew he meant it in a "do your chores first before you play games" bit, but she decided she had earned some play first. So instead, she made her way to the tent she was sharing with Banjo and went in.
As she closed the tent back up, she looked around the shared space. Nodding to herself she undressed and folded her clothes near her pack. She had prepared for this but she was unsure if she would follow through. However, her conversation with Mei and Harper, as well as how everyone seemed to be slowly coming back together, made her realize she needed to enjoy the moments in-between.
She grabbed the lace number she brought with her and changed into it. The way the fabric felt against her skin was enjoyable and she knew a certain someone would enjoy it also. She moved her sleeping bag closer to his. She wished she brought champagne or flowers or something, but even if she did, she knew Banjo wasn't the type to expect such a thing. Just her was enough. Just him was enough.
So she got comfortable and laid down on her pack, waiting for the man she loved to enter so she can enjoy this moment.
