fandomhigh | Fandom High Welcome Picnic, Front Lawn of the School, All Day: Part I

It might have been the start of the fall semester, but it was definitely still summer in Fandom. The sun was shining and the temperature was already starting to get high, even as the NPC crew set things up for the day.

Luckily, the school knew how to take care of folks on days like today. Beneath the blue and gold streamers and balloons, tables had been set up with cold drinks and food, and an entire section devoted to offering up different ~~moddable~~ ice cream flavors. As always, there was a stack of nametags set down next two signs: one listing the Big Sibling/Little Sibling pairings, and one listing rooms and roommates for the new students.

With everything set up and the crew out of the way, it was time for the picnic to begin!

[~~Please wait for OCD!~~ The OCD is up! This is part one of the picnic, specifically for meeting siblings, roommates, and teachers. The rest of the picnic is happening here and here, in an effort to keep browsers from breaking for as long as possible. Since it's outside, the picnic is open to all students, teachers, and townies!]

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He was able to follow her better with every sentence out of her mouth, and he found himself subconsciously nodding along, storing the sounds in the back of his head. "No magic," Dolf repeated, and some of the smirk fell off his face when he realised she was asking in earnest.

Or had she just asked where he was from?

"Twelve-twelve," he added, hesitantly.

"Twelve twelve." Tara blinked, not sure what that meant. "Like the year, 1212?"

Had it even been called that back then? She leaned forward to try to see what he was wearing.

What he was wearing wasn't... very helpful, probably.

What he was wearing was a ratty t-shirt that looked like it had definitely seen better days, a pair of jeans which were even worse off, and what appeared to be a belt made to hold a dagger.

... The dagger was gone, obviously, but the breadknife he'd managed to keep. So far.

"Yes," Dolf said, nodding, and then realised that might be miscontrued. "Not-- not at first," he tried. Dammit. What was the right word?

"Oh." Neither the explanation nor the clothes helped much, really, and Tara looked puzzled. "Where are you from at first?"

"Two thousand six?"

Thank you, Jason, for giving him numbers. "Two thousand six," Dolf repeated, more confidently now. "I went back." Obviously.

"Right!" Tara sounded enthusiastic, mostly because it was an interesting story. "It's 2010 now."

"... how did you go back?"

She had about fourteen years' worth of TV-watching to thank for the fact that Dolf could dig up, "Time machine," without much trouble. At least he was getting somewhere, and it was making him feel just a little less lost.

Of course, with less lost also came a sense of melancholy. He tried not to think of Brindisi or Venice too much, and shoved his hand in his jean pocket. "From Holland."

"Like, windmills and tulips?" Thank you, Tara, for those utterly original reference points. She blushed a bit. "I'm from California. But not the interesting parts."

She glanced him over. "Did you tell the time machine to send you here instead of there?"

Dolf opened his mouth to answer, then realised he didn't know. Well, didn't know about Doctor Simiak and Doctor Kneveltoer's plans, anyway. He shut his mouth again, thought on it a little, and then began to formulate his next sentence. "No," he said, slowly. "I-- think..." He bit his lip. "I thought I was... going home."

"Ohhh," Tara said softly. "Welcome to Fandom? Do you need to call your mom or anything?"

Mainly because she was pretty sure she would want to.

Call. Did he need to call his--

Dolf suddenly realised two things: that he could call his mother now, if he wanted to, and that he really couldn't because he didn't have his phone anymore. That one had wound up sold to someone for some food.

He frowned. Would she even be looking for him, still, or had they long since mourned him. "Maybe," he said, at last. "No telephone." It sounded like telefoon.

"You could borrow one if you wanted," Tara said, not insisting. "Though ... I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to explore a little bit, first. This is pretty overwhelming."

"What was 1212 like?" she had to ask.

He actually looked like he was considering it for a little while. Finally he said, "Later," though. She was right: it was overwhelming, the sudden shift from old to new again, and Dolf wasn't sure he'd be able to deal with a mother who thought he'd been dead and gone for four years.

Not right now.

It made him feel horribly selfish, and his fingers tightened in his trousers. "Different," he said. "We are-- the children are going to Jerusalem." No, that wasn't right. Was it? Past tense, he needed past tense, not present.

The children are going to Jerusalem. It wasn't tense problems that confused Tara; it was just a puzzling statement. "Oh!" she exclaimed, a few moments later. "The crusades? Is that what it was called?"

"Yes," he said, perhaps a little too quickly, but he was just happy that something was at least recognised. "The children's crusades." That was the word Dolf had been looking for. "There."

Fandom High Welcome Picnic, Front Lawn of the School, All Day: Part I

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