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

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!event: welcome picnic

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

The weather was nice, the school wasn't currently under attack from forces not of this universe and they were still in Iceland. Oh yeah, it was day one of the rest of the newbies' lives.

Welcome to fandom, kiddos. Try not to trip over left over sombreros from Thursday!

[~~Please wait for~~ 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.]

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"Are maracas even Viking-ish?" she asked, laughing a little. There was nothing else to do. "They're very talented Vikings, I suppose."

And the question that had been bugging her from the start finally pushed its way forward. Jocelyn looked straight at the wings then back at Warren. "Are you a warlock?"

Well, at least she didn't tapdance around it. And it sure beat that one time when Rinoa had asked him if he was a sorceress.

"A mutant, actually," he explained. "Human, mostly. Just a little weird. It's a... it just kind of happens, where I'm from, sometimes."

"Oh. Like Angelica then," Jocelyn said, thinking about that. "Do you have people who can turn themselves metal or whatever too? I should've known a demon's mark wouldn't look like the angel's wings."

"I don't think I've met Angelica yet," Warren replied after a moment's thought. She must have been one of the new kids, too. "But... Yeah, lots of stuff like that. Guys who can bend metal with their minds, or create ice out of water molecules, or... you know. Just guys like me, who wound up with feathers."

Itchy, itchy feathers. Stupid moulting season.

"... Demon's mark?"

"She was on the shuttle," she agreed, answering that unspoken question and cataloging his response in her mental list of 'insane shit.' Jocelyn shrugged. "Warlocks are half-demon, half-human. So they all have some sort of mark of their heritage - a tail or cats' eyes or extra toes."

"I've met a guy with a tail around here before," Warren noted. "He was actually a mutant, too. Around here... it kind of isn't all set out in black-and-white. Wings can mean a lot of things, you know? Demon, mutant, angel, sorceress, fairy, Fandom feeling quirky..."

The list could go on for just about forever.

"It's like that with pretty much everything, around here. It kind of gets to the point where you just give up after a while, and stick it all under that big, general 'people' category. It's safer, that way."

Jocelyn raised an eyebrow, her hand tightly around her red pendant. "Demons and Downworlders aren't exactly people," she pointed out.

Warren was quiet for a moment, his mouth opening a bit while his throat worked on remembering how to form sounds.

Oh, that was not the sort of thing he liked to hear on his new little sib's first day.

"Actually," he said, straightening up slightly, his wings spreading just a tiny bit while he worked up some semblance of backbone, "where I'm from, neither are mutants."

"Surely you're not comparing yourself to creatures who destroy entire worlds because they can only think of torture and killing," Jocelyn remarked, the sharper remark pushed back by his extending wings and the resemblance to every pictures she'd seen of Raziel rising from the lake.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Warren replied. "I've seen demons at work. I know what it looks like when creatures who can only think of torture and killing get their hands on a village full of innocent people who can't protect themselves. But... I've seen people with demon in their blood stand up against that sort of thing, too, and push themselves almost to collapse trying to heal the wounded. It's all... pretty relative."

He shook his head a little. "Nobody's telling you that you have to like them, but around here, it's probably a good idea not to tell anybody that they're less than people, either."

They might take it personally. Or, even if it didn't bother them at all, the people standing beside them might.

Jocelyn shrugged. "Your point only strengthens and confirms mine. Downworlders with demon blood aren't demons, and one doesn't judge them for their heritage. Most Downworlders hate demons as much as we do, and I've been healed by a warlock after a fight too. But it doesn't change the fact that they are what they are."

Edited 2011-05-07 16:49 (UTC)

"Wait, how does that confirm..." Warren bit the inside of his cheek, and he bit it hard, taking a breath and picking apart the conversation. "I think... maybe we're arguing semantics," he offered, a moment later. "I've seen baseline humans who were bigger monsters than any mutant or demon I've known. That doesn't make them stop being people, though. It just makes them really, really rotten ones."

He took a deep breath, folding his wings behind himself again.

"We're all equals here, though. That's the big thing about this place. Actions speak louder than social status or heritage. Too many people here spent their lives being told that they weren't."

Edited 2011-05-07 17:02 (UTC)

Jocelyn considered him for a long moment, unsure how anyone could argue that mundanes could be worse than demons. That was the point of the Nephilim. Mundanes couldn't protect themselves from demons; they couldn't even see demons. Her people hid away behind glamours and wards to keep the mundies from freaking out more than to protect themselves.

He obviously didn't understand. And she could tell it wasn't something she'd be able to explain standing here. Valentine was right. Downworlders were very different sometimes.

"Of course," Jocelyn said, lifting her chin. "I don't wish to be rude." Just unconsciously snobby. That was totally different.

Protect themselves? But who did that leave to protect the rest of the world from them?

"Hey, rude, I can handle," Warren replied, sighing and smiling a little all over again. "It's just something to keep in mind around here, okay? You never know who here might take offense to labels. Heck, some worlds use the same words to describe completely different concepts."

Whyever would they bother with the rest of the world?

"Is that why the island is glamoured so heavily?" she asked, seizing the opportunity to find more out about this place. "Because there are people from all different 'worlds' here?"

"Glamoured?" Warren blinked and tilted his head a little. "I... sorry, I'm not sure I totally understand what that means. Magically, somehow?"

This would be one of those examples of same words, different meanings. Warren grew up with a vague notion of the word being used to describe feather boas and lots of sequins, for example.

Jocelyn nodded. "To keep the mundanes from seeing what's here." She couldn't help raising an expressive eyebrow. She did rather think it sounded like something she'd mentioned before, yes. "I'm guessing people can't always find the island. And if you weren't invited or expected, you wouldn't be able to see the Causeway or the island at all."

"I... guess not," Warren agreed, chewing on that for a moment. "Though we have had our fair share of uninvited guests. Like the Vikings, you know? So, either there's a bit of a glitch in the... glamouring... or else the island has a really weird sense of humor."

Warren really, really wouldn't put it past Fandom. How many times had it turned him into a parakeet, again?

"There are always some who have Sight without being marked for it," she agreed. "It's unusual though." She frowned at the Viking remark. "I wouldn't expect a contingent of Vikings to be among those though."

"I wasn't there at graduation, but from what I hear, a spaceship dropped them off," Warren replied. And then grimaced. And then buried his face in his hand. "After going to school here for a year and a half, I think I've actually almost managed to forget how weird things like that sound when you say them aloud."

And there was the utter stare of disbelief. Demons, mutants, vampires, she could deal with, but spaceships?

"...a spaceship full of vikings," Jocelyn repeated.

"Well, I didn't actually see the spaceship," Warren replied. "Maybe a few facts got a little scrambled before I heard about it?"

He doubted it. But for the sake of not looking completely insane, that really seemed like the thing to say.

"You'd think in interests of believability, people would take away the spaceship, not add it," she pointed out wryly.

"...this is going to be interesting." Even if she still pretty much would rather be taking a Latin exam and going to Shanghai next week.

"Trust me, it will," Warren agreed, smirking a little. "Like I said, you're not going crazy. That was the first thing my now-girlfriend told me when we met, back on my newbie day. It's probably some of the most sound advice you can get. Right up there with, 'don't get too close to the flamingos,' and 'yeah, that random animal in your room probably is your roommate.'"

"My roommate's a shapechanger?" she asked, the rest of it all washing over her. Of course she wasn't going crazy. She was a Shadowhunter. "How do you know? I don't even know him very well."

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