http://teenagewarhead.livejournal.com/ (
teenagewarhead.livejournal.com) wrote in
fandomhigh2016-08-26 04:49 pm
Entry tags:
BWI Airport Portalocity Lounge, Saturday morning
After missing a flight due to airport security feeling the need to wand over every single piercing she had, Negasonic was in a bit a mood. Then she saw the glittery banner welcoming all Fandom High students and the portalocity lounge.
Ugh. Glitter.
She dumped her duffel bag on the floor and slumped into a chair. Five seconds later she had her phone out to tweet about what a lousy flight experience she had and how little she was looking forward to going to a new school.
She immediately got a tweet back from Colossus. "Give it a chance."
Ugh. Optimism.
She slunk down in her chair a little farther and hoped the shuttle would get here soon so she could at least be going someplace.
Ugh. Glitter.
She dumped her duffel bag on the floor and slumped into a chair. Five seconds later she had her phone out to tweet about what a lousy flight experience she had and how little she was looking forward to going to a new school.
She immediately got a tweet back from Colossus. "Give it a chance."
Ugh. Optimism.
She slunk down in her chair a little farther and hoped the shuttle would get here soon so she could at least be going someplace.

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And, you know, it was pretty great to be back on Earth proper and behind the wheel again.
"All aboard for Fandom High," he called once he'd pulled up and opened the door. "Move it or lose it."
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Kuzco had already made a wonderful impression on her.
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One day she might learn that being sarcastic to elders is a bad idea.
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"You mean like a place to ditch his body?"
She was just clarifying that statement. She seemed to be okay with that concept in general.
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If he was concerned about such things.
"For what?" this year's newest, one eyed, one armed, non-flying, non-purple, non-cannibal asked.
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"Fandom High. As in school. Where you just might be enrolled whether you know about it or not." Fandom sometimes just liked to, like, adopt people from various timelines, it seemed. "You the run away type or the try it 'cause it might work out type, kid?"
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Shhh. He hadn't found a mirror and was the same level of noodle as a teen. Also, his voice cracked on the regular with stress, so...
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He guessed. The guys who'd lugged them here had been sweating pretty hard.
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Oh lord, this guy either thought he was or potentially really was an ancient Incan emperor. The broody kid was right, maybe they should leave this one behind.
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He snapped his fingers. "Chop, chop! Those bags aren't going to move themselves."
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"I'll move your luggage for you," she said nicely.
Nicely. That's the second warning.
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Like he knew how much currency was worth. That's why he had Money Guy.
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Very helpful, Kuzco.
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There were people here to carry it now. Hop to, gentlemen!
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He also wasn't going to carry anyone's bags. Sorry, noble types.
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"...what is this?" she asked, a note of trepidation sneaking into her voice despite her better efforts. "Where - where are the horses?"
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"Just a sayin'," Hardison explained. "We ain't drivin' off without anyone." He eyed her baggage. "Though the same can't be said for inanimate objects left on the ground an' not on the shuttle."
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Calm down, Margaery.