fandomhigh | Reserves Meeting, Danger Shop, Thursday Afternoon (After Classes)

The members of the Reserves had been ~~handwavily~~ notified to meet in the Danger Shop for today's meeting. Regretfully, this did mean no food or drinks for yet another week, but there was a lot of fancy and expensive equipment in the room and none of the leaders really felt comfortable with the possibility of paying for it if someone accidentally spilled.

~~Or, worse yet, if something Karla baked touched the machinery. Sparks and melting, people. Sparks and melting.~~

"Kiss kiss," Karla said, as everyone assembled in the hallway. "Today we're undertaking an exercise that will have all of us working together. If you'll follow us inside?" She opened the doors to the Danger Shop and everyone stepped into...

...yet another hallway. This one should be familiar to most of the students; it was the hallway that led to the library; the library doors stood open and welcoming--though it was possible for the sharp-eyed to notice they looked...flimsier...than usual.

"Sometimes, things can go wrong at this school," Dolf continued. "And it isn't so quickly solved with just one way of looking at things. Some things you have to beat up, some things you have to outsmart. Most of us know what we are good at by now, don't we?"

He smiled encouragingly at those gathered. Well. Sort of encouragingly. He was a little nervous, if you knew where to look.

"Not to say that it's necessarily exclusive by person," Wesley added, as a member of the camp that did both. (Though his credibility was hurt somewhat by how beat-up he looked. Oops.) "You're welcome to try any number of strategies."

"The important thing to keep in mind is teamwork," Karla said. "Working together and making sure--"

Whatever else Karla was going to say was rudely interrupted by three of the doors at the far end of the hallway slamming open--hard enough to embed their knobs into the walls. Out of each door walked a giant, man-shaped creature made of what looked like hardened clay. Seeing the clustered students, the creatures turned towards them and slowly ambled forwards, each footstep ending in hairline cracks in the floor.

Good luck, guys.

[OCD up, please read Important notes! Of course, everything there is OOC knowledge that needs to be figured out ICly. So feel free to whale on these guys for awhile, okay?]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yeah, and... my experience with fighting goes about as far as Lucivar has trained me with sticks. Other than that, I... fly." Warren shrugged a little, a gesture that involved just as much wing as shoulder. "If there's a heavy hitter in there, about the best that I'll be able to do is offer aerial support."

Unless whatever it was could fly. In which case, it was going to be dogfights all the way.

"I do not like fighting, even in play, though Lucivar keeps threatening to train me," Raven said. One day she wasn't going to be able to keep making excuses, she feared. He was awfully persistent.

"Though I have learned to enjoy fighting with pillows. Or even food, though Bobby and I got in trouble for that."

Warren cracked a little smile at that. Bobby was good at getting people into that sort of trouble, true.

"Lucivar is pretty persistent. But I think it's probably more important for me to learn that sort of thing than you... I can kind of see his point. I mean, people's powers have been suppressed around here before, right?"

"Yes, but I was raised a pacifist. I have learned violence is sometimes necessary, but I do not know if I could ever deliberately cause harm to another unless I was overcome by anger or fear, and that would be...unpleasant." To say the least.

Raven sucked at casual conversation. But she did recognize that the conversation was rapidly become one that wasn't exactly going to make things less weird between them and tried to change the subject. "Did you and Karla go on the school trip last week?" she said. "I had intended to, but my plans changed at the last minute." For the better, oh yes.

"Oh, uh..." Warren nodded, his smile going a little awkward all over again as he realized the conversation topic was probably being changed for a reason. "Yeah. We did. It was very... Canadian."

Very Canadian. Unashamedly so.

"What do you mean?" Raven asked. "How do you define Canadian? I have never been there, but there are many places in this world I have never been."

"They were... friendly," Warren offered. "But I couldn't understand a lot of what they were saying. But I think that might just have been a Newfoundland thing. Like the fish-kissing."

It had been an interesting break.

"Fish kissing?" Raven repeated, unable to hold back a giggle. "Did you kiss a fish? Why? Did Karla kiss it, too?"

"Karla insisted that if I was going to be kissing fish, she was going to get her fill of Warren kisses in advance and I was going to be scrubbing my lips thoroughly before I got any more afterwards," Warren replied, just a little sheepishly. "It was a... tourist thing. Apparently that makes me an official Newfoundlander now."

Which mostly meant that now he had an excuse to drink screech and talk in an unintelligible accent.

"I know nations may require odd rituals by our standards for those who wish to join," Raven said. "But I have never heard of kissing of fish. That is fascinating. Was it alive?"

Raven would have taken the Screech-in very seriously if she had been there.

"No, it was... pretty dead," Warren replied, wrinkling his nose slightly. "I think it had been frozen, too. Probably. There was alcohol involved, too. And something about big jibs, but I'm still not entirely clear what that's supposed to mean."

He wasn't going to mention the hat. He'd looked completely stupid in the hat.

... Which was somehow more of a sticking point than the fish-kissing.

Alcohol. Well that explained everything.

"I am not certain I could have participated," Raven said. Kissing a dead fish just made her stomach turn, and drinking was always chancy. "But I am glad you enjoyed yourself. Did Karla tell you of our contest to name our giant cock?"

Way to segue, Raven.

"Contest to what?"

Yeah. Yeah, Warren wasn't thinking about roosters, it was pretty safe to say.

"That has got to be a 'Dites thing."

"Yes, it does involve the store, how did you guess?" Raven said, assuming Warren was thinking of the same thing as she was. "It was delivered Monday to the store, but neither Karla nor I ordered it. It must be a gift from someone. We decided we must give it a name."

Oh, Raven.

... Oh, Raven.

Warren was going to just turn progressive shades of pink, now. Yes indeed.

"Do people, uh, usually name them?"

"I do not see why not," Raven said with a shrug. "Karla thinks we should paint it in Fandom's colors. Perhaps you could help us with that?"

Oh, Raven, indeed.

"Uh... We'll see," Warren replied, a little more pink, a little more wide-eyed. "I'm... really not actually much of a painter."

Of cocks.

[Bedtime! SP?]

This was all Karla's fault, really.

"It will be easy," Raven tried to assure him. "You just must be careful to make certain you do not injure yourself upon it."

[Of course! Night!]

Reserves Meeting, Danger Shop, Thursday Afternoon (After Classes)

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