fandomhigh | BWI Airport, Portalocity Lounge [Saturday morning]

It had been with several bone-crushing hugs, a lucky rabbit's foot, two trashy books and an iPod that Olive had boarded the plane. If she had to guess, geographically, she had started to really miss her parents and brothers somewhere over Texas. (Texas was huge. She was probably right.) She'd pushed that away and shoved in her earbuds in an attempt to sleep, to no avail.

And...now she was supposed to meet new classmates. Okay. She found the designated loungey area thing -- and holy crap, that glittery sign was like something Marianne would make (so...not a great omen) -- and took a seat. Tempted as she was to retreat into her book and iPod again, she instead only fiddled idly with her phone, looking up every couple minutes to see if anyone relatively her age had come over. She hated being the first one anywhere. Now there was like, this onus on her.

She had maybe just won her Words With Friends game with her mom, as soon as the plane had landed, with "onus." She was pretty proud of that.

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"Fandom High?" Olive asked hopefully, noticing the girl off to the side. "If not, ignore me."

That seemed unlikely. Who ignored strangers who spoke to them at an airport? If she was wrong, Olive still stood a good chance that this girl would think she was a terrorist and she'd get cavity searched.

The weird thing was that with her SHIELD clearance, Jessica could have somebody arrested and cavity searched. Fortunately, the thought never crossed her mind.

"Yep. You too?" she asked. "Or do you just like asking people about random local high schools?"

"I could be taking a poll," Olive replied thoughtfully. "I mean, there's got to be some kind of high school census bureau."

"I'm pretty sure the regular census bureau handles that as part of the regular census," Jessica said. "Unless I've been wrong about the regular census all these years, of course. That would be crushing."

Jessica shook her head, trying to leave behind the confusion and possiblee disappointment. "Anyway, hi. I'm Jessica."

"Olive," she offered with a little wave. "And I'm sorry to open the door to such devastating disappointment here on your first day. My bad."

"Don't worry about it. I think it's healthy to get crushing disappointments out of the way early," Jessica said. "It helps keep all other expectations nice and reasonable."

"It can only go uphill from here," Olive agreed solemnly. "Unless this school is actually a federal prison or something. Then I'd say that that wins, just barely, for disappointment."

"You know what? I'm still ranking federal prison above a typical high school," Jessica joked. "I mean, it's close, but at least you don't have to pay for lunch at the state pen."

"Plus I could probably become someone's bitch for protection," Olive pointed out thoughtfully. "Harder to do at high school. They're choosier on the outside."

"I'm pretty sure I could make a decent shiv," Jessica offered. "I've never done it before, but I'm a quick learner. If you need one, let me know. I'll hook you up."

"That goes for high school or jail. Either way."

Olive clasped a hand to her chest, clearly touched. "I will sleep with this hypothetical shiv under my pillow every night. I mean, partly for protection." Pause. "Well, mostly for protection. It's a shiv."

"I'm thinking I'll stick to toothbrush shivs, so half protection, half dental hygiene," Jessica explained. "As far as I'm concerned, they're equally important."

"Life isn't worth living if not mintily-fresh," Olive agreed. "Plus you never know when you'll be attacked while brushing your teeth. They always seem to come up behind girls in the bathroom in the movies, so they can do that shot where the murderer shows up in the medicine cabinet mirror."

"That's why I never look in the mirror when I brush my teeth," Jessica explained. "Eyes locked on the tub at all times. I just hope nobody figures out how to hide in a mirror."

"They would probably be really small," Olive noted hopefully. "Like a murderous chipmunk or something."

Olive, your brain. What.

"Oh, I'm used to those. New Yorker. Central Park is dangerous," Jessica said. "I know people know that, but they don't really get the true extent until they meet one of those little death critters."

"You, ma'am, are braver than I," Olive said admiringly. "Californian. We just have potheads and seagulls. Both of which, I suppose, could totally attack you in a bathroom."

"You think I'm brave when you have shower-gulls?" Jessica asked. "I think you win that round. At least there's places to flee in a park."

"I mean, they're rumored shower-gulls," Olive admitted. "Like flying chupucabras, basically."

Nothing like flying chupucabras. Except that both were fictional.

"... I would watch a movie about flying chupacabras," Jessica mused. "Any clue if Syfy's done that one yet?"

"No, and I'm kind of a junkie for that stuff," Olive admitted. "We should make that movie and send it in. We'd probably make like, at least fifty bucks off it."

"I always had dreams of growing up to be a bad actress in a terrible movie," Jessica said. "Fandom apparently makes dreams come true."

"Hey, we shoot for the stars around here," Olive replied. "Low budget, poorly-paid acting is one of the greatest rewards in life."

"I demand a producer credit and, you know, maybe not a trailer, but at least a moderately comfortable lawn chair," Jessica said.

"I'm not making promises," Olive said, "but if the budget allows, I think you're probably star enough to spring for a beanbag chair."

Re: Wait for the shuttle [08/24]

craftyladyparts.livejournal.com - 2012-08-25 02:00 (UTC) - Expand