fandomhigh | BWI Airport, Portalocity Lounge

Entry tags:

!event: newbie shuttle

BWI Airport, Portalocity Lounge

So ... this was the East coast, huh?

Cosima wasn't sure what she had expected to see, and the bland nothing of an airport lounge wasn't giving her much of an impression of her new home yet. She felt a sudden twist of worry mixed with homesickness. Maybe she shouldn't have obeyed the impulsiveness that had led her to transfer to some tiny boarding school thousands of miles from home. Not that San Francisco was doing anything great for her lately, but at least she knew people there.

If she looked at it logically, she knew not to let her nerves wreck the experience. School would be fine, and if it wasn't, she could go home at the end of the summer -- or even sooner if she wanted. But logic wasn't the easiest thing to have when you were 16 and alone in a strange airport.

She lounged in a hard airport chair, earbuds in, and poked at her phone until she found a new science podcast to listen to. It was comforting.

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Cara's was punching things. She'd say she had no place to talk about healthy, but that'd never stopped her before.

"It'd explain why he dresses as if he expects a random, convenient wind blowing at all times."

Atton snickered, because there were few things he appreciated more than a good Anakin Skywalker joke.

"Well, at least the guy knows how to exploit drama when it comes flying his way," he said, "There's some people roaming around the school who like to walk around in fancy suits like they're going to the opera or something."

Cara nodded. "I've seen that one at staff meetings," she said. "Haven't talked to him, don't intend to change that."

"He's kind of creepy," Atton said, "And obsessed with food."

Creepy. So creepy.

"Though I bet you're going to be making an impression with the cleavage and leather get-up."

"I'll take your word for it." Because even from across the room he put her back up.

"What's wrong with my leathers?" She wasn't even wearing the corset or neck-guard. "They're meant to be recognisable."

"There's nothing wrong with them," Atton said, holding his hands up. (Though privately he thought they seemed like a great way to attract attention away from whatever you were going to do - in Cara's case, probably violence.) "We just seem to be picking up a bunch of teenage boys. Figure they're not going to forget you in a hurry. I mean, it's pretty hot. But terrifying."

"They're meant to be." Cara didn't clarify which of the two she meant. "I can handle teenage boys."

Handle, traumatise, same thing.

"Just don't break any wrists," Atton said. "...Or anything else."

Look, it was Cara, he had to check.

"Do I look like some kind of amateur?" That probably wasn't as reassuring an answer as Atton might like.

It was Atton she was talking to. The only reason he didn't go around saying things just like that was that he generally preferred to keep that stuff under wraps.

"Just checking," he said. If she didn't do any physical harm to anyone, that was the end of his jurisdiction. "Go do your scary glare-y thing."

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BWI Airport, Portalocity Lounge

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