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

In order to give people a place to get away from the traffic jam of the buffet and information tables, most of the chairs and tables for guests were set up further out on the lawn, under a tall blue and gold tent. There was plenty of room for everyone to sit down and enjoy themselves, but it might not have all been dry. Did we mention being grateful that it was just water falling from the sky?

[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. Since it's outside, the picnic is open to all students, teachers, and townies!]

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"That's always been my strategy," Wesley agreed. "There's also occasional, er, shrieking." Hey, as long as the cards were on the table...

"But alright, if you're interested, I suppose I can ~~spend ten minutes on WikiQuote~~ remember some one-liners. For example, er..." He assumed a strange, feminine tone. "'Vampire, meet dust. Dust, you already know vampire.'"

A pause.

"Most of the one-liners were, ah, fairly vampire-centric."

"Vampires," Warren echoed, scrunching his nose a little as he remembered his own run-in with the one from Sookie's world. Really, he wasn't much of a fan of anything that took messy bites out of him. "You, uh, get a lot of those where you're from, then?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Wesley replied. "Actually, at my old school, I was training to... dispose of them. It's still a little odd when people here aren't familiar with them."

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm a guy with wings," Warren noted, "and I wasn't familiar with very much at all before I came here. We do have vampires where I'm from, I'm pretty sure. We have a lot where I'm from. But I haven't really seen much of it."

...

"Until I came here, anyhow."

"Fandom does certainly open one up to a variety of experiences," Wesley conceded. "Like... well, people with wings. I've adjusted."

Back home, people with wings were demons. Or sometimes Cordelia.

"And so have I, for the most part," Warren decided. "There are still things that throw me off, sure, but I like to think that those are the things that would throw most people off."

Hopefully.

"I like to think of it that way as well," Wes agreed. "Last month's spiders, for instance. And the weekend I turned into a farmhand. But things like ancient Greece don't seem to bother me anymore."

"Yeah, Greece is pretty okay," Warren agreed with a nod. "But I'm kind of hoping I never turn into a four-pack of beer again."

Somebody had drank part of him!

"Oh!" Wow, that was a new one. "I... have to say that's a new one."

Beer? Really?

"I have to ask," Wesley said, holding up a finger. "Were you... sentient?"

"Not really," Warren replied, after a moment's consideration. "I mean... not enough to be freaked out that I was beer, or anything. I mean, now, after the fact, all that I kind of vaguely remember is that I was, and... stuff."

Being drank.

"But it isn't like I minded, or had enough of a mind in there to be able to care in the first place. Me remembering at all is probably just Fandom being Fandom, you know?"

"Oh, yes, of course," said Wesley, nodding. "So you probably weren't conscious at the time. That makes the most sense, at any rate; I was barely sentient when I was an owl, and that at least was a living thing. Even transfigured beer likely doesn't think very much."
Oh.

"Er, no offense."

"None taken," Warren chuckled, shrugging his shoulders lightly. "I'm pretty sure that's probably for the best. What would beer even think about, besides somebody drinking it?"

"I hope I never find out," Wesley vowed.

"Although," he added. "A demon beer invasion would certainly be intriguing."

"Demon beer," Warren echoed. "That would probably lead to the most uncoordinated attempt at fighting back an invasion to date."

A pause.

"And a pretty smelly island, by the end of it all."

"Oh. Yes, right." He considered that. "Yes, perhaps it's best we stick with spiders and talking vegetables, then."

"There are way worse things out there than root vegetables that have some kind of personal vendetta against your self-esteem," Warren agreed. "At least those sorts of things are fairly easy to take care of."

"That's true," he said, although actually, those onions had been the first thing to really shake him up here at Fandom.

It was over a year ago, Wes. Deal with it.

"The stench of beer, on the other hand..."

"It took me about half a week of showering before I stopped stinking like Worthington's Creamflow," Warren shared. "Beer-smell is insidious. It clings."

"Oh, Worthington!" Wait, he was totally about to have a very belated epiphany. "I -- sorry, it's just -- I wonder if that's the link behind the, er, random transformations. That is to say, there was a weekend that I spent as a farmhand named Westley, and you turned into Worthington beer."

Then he thought for a moment.

"But then again, no part of my name has the word 'owl' in it at all."

"There was another weekend where I turned into a different guy called Warren," Warren offered, because that might help with epiphanies like that in the future, right? "But budgies and I don't have much in common, either. I think Fandom just likes mixing these things up from time to time, to keep us on our toes."

"That does seem like something the island would do," Wesley conceded.

And good, because now he didn't have to worry about what he and an owl had in common. Apart from, of course, their sage wisdom.

Then he glanced at his watch ~~and his player started to fall asleep~~. "Well," he said, "I should probably be off. I'm fairly certain my assigned little sibling stole my wallet, so I should really have a conversation with her."

Warren bit the inside of his cheek and tried, as well as he could, to keep from grinning outright.

"You got a spitfire this time around, huh? Well, then I won't keep you from rescuing your things," he decided. "We'll have to hang out again sometime soon, though."

"Oh, certainly," came Wesley's response. Once he had his wallet back, because that was the pressing matter. "We should." Then, with a grin: "Just as long as Karla doesn't make cookies."

He was never gonna let that joke die. Never ever ever.

"I'll do my best to keep her out of the kitchen," Warren replied, solemnly. "And if I fail, I'll take the brunt of the punishment. It's the least I can do."

Besides, he was difficult to kill.

"Now go on, Wesley. I'll catch up with you again soon, I'm sure."

[Good night!]

"Much appreciated," Wesley said with a laugh. "I'll see you around," he called, and then he caught sight of Kenzi and jogged after her. That wallet had his personal information in it, for christ's sake, Kenzi.

[[Night!]]

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

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