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Replies, which I neglected to do for chapter 5:
Lassemista: Thanks so much for reviewing! Francis is a cool name. I bet ur clarinet is really cool!
GoddessOfChaos: YAY! Another lone oboe player. I'm the only oboe at my school as well, and I'm incredibly shy. Not a good combo…we just had this college band come and Mr. Sanders was like, "Cassandra! Did you hear the oboes? Yes! You could actually hear them!" grrr….
Emmithar: Thanks for the sympathy about regionals…is really sucks getting so far and then losing, doesn't it?
Wildmage42: Spam? EWW!!!! You are incredibly luck you have no initiation. Evil evil seniors. My section leader (Lia) shoved me into the pool with mustard and eggs and brownie mix when I wouldn't fall in. Only 4 years until I get to be one of the evil ones…how I'll relish that!
JJ-Ring freaks: Glad u like it! A clarinet? Hmm…well, I'll see what I can do.
A/N: Maybe Arwen and the twins would be a good addition. What do you guys think? Or Haldir and Glorfindel? Though I'm not sure I could keep them quite in character. It's been a while since I read the books.
Chapter 6: The colorguard finally gets some extra members and I have a fight with Sauron
"Well, weren't you complaining about not having a big guard?" I ask my best friend, Ali.
"well, yes…but them?" She's referring, of course, to the Nazgul, who have been added to the color guard.
I don't think anybody really wants to see them in kilts, though…which is probably what the wraiths will somehow wear, seeing as how the previously all girl color guard are wearing little black dresses with green and dark gold plaid sashes. (Our show has a Celtic theme) I really don't think anyone wants to see a wraith in that stuff….maybe we'll just let them keep their whole black getup…the audience will think it's just part of the show. Maybe we can say that they're supposed to be some sort of weird ghosts or something. I'll have to talk to Matt, the guard instructor, about it. If he'll even bother to talk to me about it. He's such a jerk most of the time. He won't even look at you unless you're in guard! Well, that's about to change, because there's no way I'm giving him full reign over the Nazgul. I'm still not entirely sure their intentions are true.
"Excuse me, sir," I say, looking up at Matt. It's not that far—he's pretty short. He ignores me for a moment, until he finished catches the flag that he's thrown up in the air. "Like that, girls. Catch it like this, see? All right. Now, what can I do for you?" Surprised by his kindness, I take a minute to answer. "You see, it's about the men I brought you. They aren't exactly, well, that is, they…"
"They are…different?"
"Yeah. So, you know?"
"I made it a point to know. I went out and bought The Fellowship of the Ring."
"You went and bought the book and read it already?"
"I bought it right after band camp, and have read it since then." Of course, you must see that, since band camp ends with initiation (which was carried through after all, though the Seniors complained about how the battle seemed to have overshadowed it), we are no longer at band camp.
We're at a night practice, which are held every Tuesday and Thursday nights from 6—8:30. They start up as soon as school does—a mere three weeks after band camp ends. We've managed to work it so that the school just thinks that all of the Middle Earth members are home-schoolers who come in for band to "broaden their artistic abilities." We had a little trouble explaining their odd styles of dress until we managed to force the fellowship into somewhat 2002ish clothing, pretend that the hobbits are just midgets, and that Gandalf is the teacher of their school.
We also managed to convince them that the wraiths are simply wearing their guard uniforms (which is why I figured Matt and I would have to have this conversation. Sauron we haven't fit into the show yet. (any ideas, guys? What should I make Sauron play/do/be?) I didn't have a clue where to put him, and besides, we have to sneak him in the back doors, anyway, just like we sneak in the pizza delivery guy when we have parties (through our uniform room. It has doors leading into the bandroom, and external doors, as well. They're very convenient!).
"All right, people!" Mr. Sanders yells, "I know it's raining. Just leave your instruments inside, grab your umbrellas, and get out here!" (A/N: we actually did this once, though it was right before Regionals. There was lightning in the distance and everything. Mostly it was heat lightning, though, and the only one really in that much danger was Mr. Sanders, seeing as how he stands on a giant METAL podium to watch us!) "I know it's cold, I know it's rainy, I know we'll all probably come down with pneumonia, but come on guys! We want a first division this year at Regionals, don't we?"
"Yes!" We've never gotten a first division at regionals before. It is Mr. Sander's fifth or sixth year here, and before he came to us we had 5 band directors in 5 years, so his first year there were only about 20 people in the band. Not exactly good odds for a first. But this year, this year there are 96 of us. We are a B class band (finally!) and even though we only have Mr. Sanders to help all of us (plus our guard instructor and one other guy who only comes in a few days a week), we might actually do this. "What we want is to get out of regionals, right, gang?!"
"Yes!" We already think we're getting to regionals in the first place. Mr. Sanders said that he was pretty sure we'd get out of district last week.
"Okay, then. At the dance in the third song. C'mon, guys. No mistakes this time! None! Okay, Katie, start it!"
Katie, one of our drum majors, calls us to attention, and we hurry to get in attention position. "All right. March time, march!" she yells, and we begin We only get through the first move, though, because half of the band has doubled over in laughter. The guard is doing an awesome little Celtic dance here, but the addition of the ringwraiths has made the thing hilarious. They can't maneuver their feet properly with all those black robes, and watching them try to put their hands on their hips and toss their heads is hilarious. Matt is furious, and Mr. Sanders is desperate. We have to fit the wraiths in somehow—they threatened to chop off the percussion section leader's head if they didn't get to stay in the show—and then they moved on to threaten the trumpet section leaders. We hastily put them in. Sauron just stands by the side glaring hatefully at Frodo. He's really scary. (btw, it's Sauron with a body. Think to the beginning of fellowship when he's in all the armor. That Sauron. Sure the timing's a little off, but we'll get over that for now, ok?)
"STOP MAKING FUN OF MY WRAITHS…" he's hissing, and instantly, half of us stop. The rest look at his face, and laugh harder. "AND DON'T YOU DARE LAUGH AT ME!" The half still laughing stops as he seems to grow and his eyes begin to glow eerily.
"Come on, Sauron, please, stop it! You're scaring people," I plead, and he glares hatefully at me.
"YOU DO NOT HAVE POWER OVER ME," he booms.
"Well, you sure as heck don't have any over me, either, buddy," I say, finally getting ticked off.
"I HAVE POWER OVER EVERYBODY," he insists.
"You know what? You messed up my story, you big bully, so I'd shut up about you and your cursed power, ok?"
"WHAT? YOU CANNOT SAY THAT!"
"I can too! Now! If you are just going to sit there and scare people, I'll…I'll…I'll sick fangirls on you!"
"NO FANGIRL OBSESSES ABOUT ME."
"Really? I can't imagine why. But I can change that if I want to!"
"NO, YOU CANNOT."
"Wanna bet? I'm the all powerful authoress, here, not you!"
"NOT ALL POWERFUL. YOU HAVE NO PO—"
"Would you shut up about that?"
"Cassandra! Sauron!! I don't allow fighting! If you must argue, then leave, right now!" roars Mr. Sanders.
"Sorry, Mr. Sanders," I mutter, hurrying back to my space, as the drill begins again.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight!" we chant as we march. Our invitational is this weekend, and it's one of the first competitions. In fact, it's our first. We've decided that, to be ready for it, we need tons more practice than we already have—especially since that day, every single one of us will be tied up with some sort of a job. Legolas and I are selling programs. Most of my friends are stamping hands with the hobbits. Aragorn and Boromir are going to work in the concession stand as soon as they get used to the idea of the hairnets.(I've been making them wear some hairnets every day when we get home so that they're used to them and don't try to take them off when they're actually working there. They say it's itchy. I don't get it. Since when have hairnets been itchy?) Gandalf and Gimli were going to get put there too, but we decided that with the beards, there would just be too much hair to put into nets—so we're putting then as judges' assistants. They get to run up and down the flights of stairs that goes to the press box to the concession stand and also to contest headquarters, at the nearby school. Fun for them! (NOT!) But that's the only place where we needed people. Oh well.
