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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"Oh, please. Like it would ever be an invitation. For you."

He had the best big sibling ever!

"But hold on. Before you go find this 'friend' of yours--" snerk. Yeah, sure. "--There are a few things I need to tell you about since you are new to the island. I even have a basket of goodies for you." Certain goodies were vanishing out of said basket right before his eyes. Including a small container of cookies that Peter should be happy he was being denied. "For example, you should be told, at least--" Karla had no illusions of him believing her, "--about how it is 2011, we're currently in Iceland, there are sometimes invasions, and not everyone here is human."

She held the basket out for him to take. "I can go on if you'd like, or you can flounce off and feel superior. It's pretty much the same to me."

Ha. Yeah. As if Peter would use anything from that basket anyway. She'd probably snuck in rat poison, or something, and he refused to die in such an undignified way.

... He was really lucky she hadn't slipped him the cookies beforehand. "Now why would I do that?" he asked, sweetly. "You've been such a kind and straightforward elder sibling. And clearly you're such an asset to the family already!"

Because being a Wiggin was a total prize, Karla.

Yeah. Karla already had her brand of disfunctional going on. She didn't need any of the special Wiggin variety.

"There's that stunning Wiggin wit I've come to expect and love," Karla said, still grinning. "And to think--"

She bit the rest of that off; she had no problems being antagonistic towards this Peter, but she would draw the line at deliberate cruelty. For now, until he did something to deserve it.

So, before the picnic ended, surely.

"Anyway, this may be difficult for you to grasp, but you've been assigned an elder sib for a reason: because there's stuff about this island that you're pig-ignorant of and--do try to temper your shock--other people know things you do not." She wasn't going to argue that there were people on the island smarter than he was; it might be true, but he'd never believe it. And, while Peter was deficient in many areas, but intelligence wasn't one of them. "Do you want to correct that ignorance or not?"

You underestimated him so, Karla. He had no intention of acting up at the picnic when he was only barely just here, which was one of about four reasons why he wasn't busy figuring out the easiest way to be a complete shit to you at the moment.

This time, when Peter felt stymied, it didn't show on his face. "Dazzle me."

Fortunately, Karla could read psychic scents. Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah.

"Oh, Peter, you have no idea how literally I could take that," she said cheerfully. Though not in a weird Marvel way, okay? "But I suppose, the first thing to tell you about is the obvious--not that I think you have a grasp on that yet, so it bears repeating. You are, of course, free to assume anything I'm telling you is a lie. It's not, mostly because I enjoy proving you wrong and the truth in this instance is far more fun. But anyway, point number one, Fandom is on a dimensional nexus point. Any number of different worlds, universes, and dimensions meet up here. Which is why a version your little brother is a senior here--" and still better and more well-liked than you, Peter, "--while your version is still up in space running rings around the teachers."

He was also smarter than you. Just in case you'd forgotten.

"The current year for this island is 2011, though we've apparently traveled to a place called Iceland in the time of the..." her brow beetled as she tried to remember the name of the smelly inhabitants. "...Vikings, I think they're called." She eyed him at that. "Not my world, not my history."

It was insane, and Peter was considering defaulting back to the theory that they slipped a hell of a lot of drugs into the water here. (He'd have to remember to buy bottled water just in case.)

On the other hand, he'd just seen pictures of a distinctly not-ten-year-old version of his brother hanging out with a bunch of sea turtles, which was the kind of photo op the IF probably would have either exploited, or gone out of their way to keep from happening.

So fine. He'd accept her little 'explanation', and if the facts matched, he'd work based on that, and if they didn't-- well, honestly, it didn't really matter. The only thing that mattered was-- "Can we still get a decent net connection among these 'vikings'?"

Oh, Peter. Thinking she wouldn't know why you were asking. Bless.

"Darkness knows, the world would be in peril should Locke not get his essays out on time," Karla said, nodding with the Utmost Solemnity.

Funny how his emotions almost tasted like candy!

"And wouldn't you hate it if you had to find out Val could write Demosthenes just as well as when she wasn't under your thumb. Or worse yet--what if she realizes it?"

Karla was not a nice girl.

Peter choked. And went a really interesting shade of green. What-- but if she knew, then did everyone know?! Had someone spread that around, or-- "How--" he stammered, the green tint leaving his face mostly so he could go completely pale. Oh god, was it public knowledge, and was he a laughing st--

Wait. All that time and space nonsense. What if it was actually true? There was no way in hell someone could just figure out who he was. So maybe--

The color flooded back into his face. Rosily, even. "So," he said, "That means I've gone public."

Dammit. She hated Wiggins sometimes.

"You can think of it that way, sure," Karla replied.

There. That'd maybe keep him guessing?

For all of ten minutes.

You could only fool a Wiggin for that long.

"I'm terribly sorry that I'm too busy to spend time with you and my brother, then," Peter said. "Probably lots of important things to do."

...Peter was the kind of Wiggin you had to mature like a fine wine. Or whine, if you will.

"Yes," Karla said dryly. "We mourn your loss at every opportunity we need something fetched, carried, or toadied at."

"Thank you awfully much for the gifts," Peter said. Smugly. "I'll make sure to remember them in a couple of years."

Two people could play at this game.

"Oh you're quite welcome," Karla gushed back. "But, pray, don't think of it again! I surely won't--this was simply the least I could do for Ender's brother. You'll find many people here very accommodating in that regard. But, really dear, don't thank us. Thank him."

"Oh, I'll make sure to, when I see him," Peter said. He was not going to let his current rush of somewhere I did it! (which, to be fair, he didn't know for sure, but he was Peter and awfully sure of himself. Uh, at least, the fact he was pretty good at this stuff. Other insecurity issues pending.) be foiled by more mentions of Ender. "When is my dearest brother due back?"

Edited 2011-05-08 07:16 (UTC)

"Oh? Are you auditioning for the part of his social secretary already?" Karla asked, looking innocent. "Constantly micromanaging the minutia of the lives of those more important that you? Just when are you in the timeline?"

"It's the year 2171," Peter replied, false smile still on his face.

The year of the Xenocide, but he didn't know that. "And it sounds more like you've been micromanaging, knowing so much as you do."

"No, no, you see, I am Ender's friend." She dimpled up at him. "I understand, you're not all that familiar with the concept. Don't worry, it will come to you in time."

Then she snorted and shook her head. "What am I talking about. No it won't. Oops. Spoiler."

"I'm sure my little brother has thoroughly enjoyed your friendliness," said Peter.

Back home, those kind of statements signalled the time where his parents got out the ice bucket. "Friendly, witty, and utterly unthreatening to the rest of the female gender as you are."

Oh, you did not just look where we think you looked, Peter.

Karla's face flushed a little, but she hung onto her smile with a grim determination. Though her hands might have twitched a little with the effors of not smacking him.

"Ouch," she said. "Resorting to purely physical insults. You really are scraping the bottom of the barrel, aren't you? What's next? Would you like to pull my hair? Push me down the stairs? Will I find you creeping into my room at night to cry and apologize for being so hateful while you whisper that you really do love me?"

It was sheer force of will that kept Peter's face from going completely ashen. (And a small part of him was going: Ender still remembers that? Does he care--? but he silenced it)

"I'm sure a lovely girl like you would love to hear that from somebody who really means it," he said. "But we barely know each other."

"Fortunately, I do have a boyfriend for that," Karla said, her smile growing wider as his insult missed the mark by a mile. "But good try! I guess you're just not as adept at reading people as Ender. Or Val. I'll try not to grow faint from surprise."

Hey, Peter was every bit as good at it as they were!

... But unlike his siblings, he just let his issues get in the way of it, instead of serving as a vehicle for it. Half the time, anyway.

"Send him my congratulations," Peter said, smile still plastered onto his face. "I'm very glad about your domestic happiness. I hope you'll have healthy babies."

"While, once again, you have to make due with the leavings of your betters," Karla laughed--and then gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.

Oh Darkness. She should not have said that.

Peter eyed her. What was that supposed to mean...?

Well. It wasn't like romance was exactly high on his bullet list of priorities anyway. He brushed it off. "Now that's rude," he said, in unconscious imitation of his own brother, "I was just congratulating you."

"And I took that as I take all your words," Karla told him, happy to shift the conversation elsewhere. "A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."

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

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