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

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!event: welcome picnic

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

The food? Still there. The school? Still standing. Students? Still mingling.

Ahhhh. What fun this weekend was for us all. WHAT FUN. And this time it was actually the good weather for shirt removing!

[~~Please wait for~~ OCD is up! This is the SECOND post for general mingling. Use this post if your browser can't handle the comment load of the first mingling post. Roommates, fake siblings and teachers are here.]

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"Small favors," Sam said, laughing. "I've taken a lot of showers since then. I just wasn't sure if the soap was strong enough to permanently get rid of the awful smell."

And with the subject of his smell settled, Sam said, "I don't think I'm freaking out either. I might be too jet lagged though. I'm three hours behind and hadn't realized it'd be this cold here. I guess surprise isn't the same as being freaked out, right?"

"You seem to have escaped," Jocelyn laughed with him. "Congratulations to you!" She shrugged a little. "I think you're right. I was told the school's in Maryland, but the mountains - it looks like my home. And there's no salt. I nearly believe the people who say it's in Iceland."

At her congratulations, Sam took a little bow that had him laughing when he stood up and almost blushing at having done that.

"Iceland?" That was something he hadn't heard. "How in the hell would we be in Iceland? I know I was tired and all but I didn't see any wings or wheels or a little engine on the back of this land mass to get us to Iceland."

Sam might be blushing, but Jocelyn was smiling with amusement at him for that.

She shrugged at the question. "Weirder things have happened, I guess? But - we're not in Maryland, you can tell that. No smell of salt from the ocean. Maybe it never was in Maryland. Maybe it's just a glamour to make people think that."

"Glamour?" Sam repeated, immediately recognizing that word. Pello used crappy glamours all the time and only shook them off during Council meetings. "I thought only people could use those. That's been my experience."

His very brief experience but Pello had spent a lot of time yammering about his glamours to Sam after he'd been placed on the Council.

"Not in my experience," she said, a little pleased he actually recognised the word. "You can place glamours on buildings, countries...motorcycles. It's just a slightly different type of spell."

"It's, uh, not really my thing," he admitted, deciding he could stand to open up a little since he was getting some decidedly weird coloring off of her and he'd already recognized what a glamour was.

The colors were human, no blues or earthy tones in there but they seemed more vibrant, almost glowing. Sam really needed a road map for this particular ability.

"I know a satyr though," he continued, scratching his cheek. "He uses one and likes to tell me about them. He's even offered to get me one but I don't really need it."

"It's not bad to be not noticed at all though," Jocelyn commented. At least it saved stupid questions about her 'ink.' Interesting questions were okay. "And sometimes you really need to just not be asked questions by mundanes."

"Mundanes?" Sam questioned. He'd gotten glamour but, while he knew that word, the context didn't seem to fit. "That a piece of slang I don't know?"

"Probably," she replied, glancing up in amusement. It sure seemed so, anyway. "It just means people who don't know anything about magic or the supernatural at all. Normal people."

"You're not normal." It wasn't a question because he could tell that for himself. He could see it for himself. "That make me one of your mundanes?"

Sam had no idea what she could pick up but he was interested in if she could pick anything up. He had no idea how he came off.

"Probably not," Jocelyn decided. "I mean, I know you're no Shadowhunter, and I'm pretty sure you're not fae or a warlock." She considered. "So - something else from another world?"

Well, she wasn't another Douglas Montgomery since he'd know what Sam was and wanted to kill him for that. Sam didn't know if that was comforting or not.

"I don't even know what a Shadowhunter is," he admitted with a shrug. "I can't tell what you are but I know you're not human. Not at all the way. I can see it. Your colors are all...off."

That didn't answer the question of what he was but he'd opened up slightly more than with anyone else. He didn't know why. Kindred spirit?

"You can see - colors? That tell you what a person is?" Jocelyn checked to make sure she heard him right. "That's gotta be useful." She reached up to check her red pendant. He wasn't a demon, she knew, but it still was a little weird. "Shadowhunters are - we're Nephilim. Like in the Bible? Part-human and part-angel. We're tasked to fight demons and protect the mundanes."

"Angel," Sam said like that was the missing piece of the puzzle. "Yeah, you've got the colors of the human but they were...enhanced. Most of the time, humans are warm but muted. Yours aren't muted at all."

And with the knowledge that she was an angel, he now knew why hers were shining brighter. "But yeah, I see...it's hard to explain. It's a new thing for me. Different people show up as different colors. It depends on their life force, I guess. Alive versus dead versus undead."

Kell would frown if he'd forgotten her.

"That actually makes sense. It's what the angel's blood does. Make us just a little...more," Jocelyn remarked, and oooh, interesting. She reached out to try to turn over his hand to see the back of his right one. Any marks there? There definitely were on the arm she was reaching with.

What he was describing could probably be done with runes, but she knew he wasn't Nephilim. "It's like you have an incredibly powerful Sight mark. But it's all you, right?"

"As far as I know, yeah," he said, letting her twist and turn his hand as she wanted. He was unmarked there. Most of his marks were carried on his back and occasionally on his elbows if he had to make himself bleed for a sacrifice.

"I'm encountering a lot of people here that are reading differently than I'm used to," he added, glancing around before looking back at her. He figured telling her what he was was inevitable but he could still vividly feel how frightened his own mother had been of him. "What were you doing with my hand there?"

"Just seeing," she admitted, showing him the back of her hand with its open eye (http://pics.livejournal.com/sedlexduralex/pic/00006dx9) mark. "Shadowhunter kids are marked for sight. To be able to see through glamours and see the supernatural. I was wondering if you'd been marked somehow too."

"And?" Sam asked after he'd taken a careful look at the mark on the back of her hand. "See anything on me?"

He guessed she'd just seen skin or else he had a mark even he couldn't see. If that was the case, his mom had some more explaining to do.

"Nope. It's not that weird. Humans can't hold the marks so if you were -" Jocelyn grinned. "Well, I'd get to call you some sort of long lost cousin." She paused. "...not that closely related."

Sam chuckled and pulled his hand back so he could give it a look before shaking it and letting it drop back down to his side. "Necromancer."

It was still weird to say that, to label himself like that but that's what he was and that was the power that was still growing inside him.

"Nice to meet you."

"Necromancer," she repeated, torn between curiosity and a bit of tentativeness. "Like a warlock? Is your mom or dad one too?"

Jocelyn paused in her need to fit people into her own boxes. "You've said that like - maybe five times before, haven't you."

Sam had been waiting for her reaction and picked up on the tentativeness just like he'd picked up on hi mom's fear. This wasn't as violent though so he didn't immediately try to back away.

"My dad is but I don't have any kind of relationship with him," Sam told her, shaking his head. "This whole thing, this is what he gave me and nothing else. He found out I was like this and didn't stick around. Good man, my dad."

Maybe he was a little bitter.

With a sympathetic frown, Jocelyn tried to put into words what she'd been taught. "It - happens that way with families with magic sometimes," she said slowly. "If the person doesn't like the power or they feel out of control - they can't handle knowing it was passed on to another generation." She made a face. "Not that it helps you at all."

"Or maybe he's just a jerk," Sam said flippantly. Kevin Hatfield wasn't his dad as far as he was concerned. "He's not around and doesn't even know I'm like this, really. Oh, if he could see me now, I'm sure he'd be impressed."

Or horrified.

"The only one who's been able to tell what I am just by looking at me is another necromancer," Sam shared partially as a way to get his mind off his dad. "It's something with my colors. I've got a lot of blue going on because of the death stuff."

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

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