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Courtography
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The apology helped.

Hannah wasn't disposed to immediately trust whoever had shined the light right in her eyes, even if she was obviously cultured enough to reference The Bard. King Lear wasn't as good as Macbeth, of course, but it was still an excellent example of Shakespearian tragedy. Then again, Macbeth didn't even feature eye gouging. She idly wondered who was on the other side of the flashlight. The voice was familiar, but her own flashlight was in her bag. It was probably someone else from drama. Who else could think of that off the top of their heads? She was still seeing purple against the black darkness of the gym anyway, so she wasn't sure she'd see all that great even if she could.

The flashlight was now focused on the board and there was a question.

"The prop crew gave it to me," she responded, smiling slightly under her scarf.

It was a decent name for the terrorists. They had given all of them props to use. Hannah had the board. Irene had Johnny Three. The girl in front of her probably had something of her own as well.

"What'd you get?"
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Bread Suit · The Gym