fandomhigh | BWI Airport | Portalocity Lounge | Saturday Morning

In most instances, no one would bat an eye at seeing a boy and his dog. In this instance, some people might actually run away screaming at the sight of this boy and this dog. Percy Jackson didn’t look all that intimidating on his own. He was average height, dark haired and carried a ball point pen in the pocket of his jeans.

Of course, the huge hellhound sitting behind Percy might have turned a few heads if not for the Mist. Thankfully, most mortals didn’t see Mrs. O’ Leary, Percy’s inherited hellhound sitting lazily in the BWI airport lounge (how the hellhound had fit, Percy didn’t know).

Percy himself didn’t look as relaxed as his dog. His eyes were jumping left to right, almost as if he expected something to attack him or for Luke to emerge from the crowd with that more smirk than smile look on his face.

This was about the fourteenth school Percy had been to since age twelve. He didn’t expect it to last. He wanted to be at Camp Half Blood. Instead, he was waiting in an airport lounge for a shuttle to cart him and his hellhound to a place called Fandom.

Percy frowned. He didn’t think this day could get worse.

[Open shuttle bus! Mrs. O’ Leary is a big ole hellhound that most mortals probably would not see because of something called the Mist. If you’re not exactly all the way mortal, you’d see her though. She’s not going to attack anyone, I promise.]

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Wow. Just wow. Cindy hadn't seen anyone dressed quite like that since the mid-70's. 1870's, that is.

Which would account for the gobsmacked expression.

"If you're looking for the shuttle to Fandom Island, you are," she told him, trying not to smile too broadly.

"Shuttle?" William frowned, not too sure what to make of the term in that context. "I'm expected on the carriage, yes," he said.

Oh, dear. Cindy was torn between explaining a few key bits of information or letting him find out for himself.

Hell, school was supposed to be a learning experience, right?

...Look, you take a red-eye flight from Paris with no layovers and a grumpy Bigby going through nicotine withdrawal and bitching about how everything stank and see how helpful you feel, all right?

"Our conveyance will be here shortly," she said instead. "I am Ms. Perrault, one of the teachers at Fandom."

Well, she wasn't a nun, which set her apart from all the other female teachers he'd had up until now. So there we go, here for mere hours and horizons already broadened some.

"William Murdoch," he introduced himself. "Newly arrived student." As if she hadn't figured out that last part.

Pay no attention to the fact you can see her knees below her skirt, Murdoch!

"And I'm guessing you're very out of your element here," Cindy replied, taking another glance at his clothes. "Don't worry. Fandom throws everyone for a loop when they first arrive."

That was supposed to be reassuring, yes.

Give him a minute to focus on something other than how are the lights so impossibly bright and he might notice the skirt. Maybe.

"Out of my element is a good way to put it," William agreed. "This is my first time in the States." Yes, so far he was blaming all the strangeness on the fact that he was in the US. Denial: not just a river in Egypt, and all that.

He could join the PEI contingent with that.

"I can assure you that you'll find Fandom very different from what you're used to," Cindy said with a straight face. "Even moreso than this waiting area. I am quite certain you'll adapt."

BWI Airport | Portalocity Lounge | Saturday Morning | August 28

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