fandomhigh | Fandom High Welcome Picnic, Front Lawn of the School, All Day: Part II

Entry tags:

!event: welcome picnic

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

Over on this part of the school lawn... yeah, it was still chilly. Stupid winter, doing its winter thing. But there were plenty of chairs and tables for people watching, feasting on warm foods and drinks, and generally attempting to meet the new folks!

[OCD is up! This is the picnic post for general mingling. Roommates, fake siblings and teachers are all here. Since it's outside, the picnic is open to all students, teachers, and townies!]

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"Oh my god," Norman muttered, though there was a little laugh in his voice as he reached up to run a hand through his hair.

Once again, it just sort of settled back into place. His hair was a damn traitor.

"Okay, maybe I'll ask about something else." He paused, glanced around, and then with all the effort of a kid trying not to sound like a total weirdo, he settled on, "Do, uh, weird things ever show up here? I mean, not just people. Not that Sidon's weird, just not what I'm used to. I mean, more..."

Okay, no, he was flailing around for words again. He grimaced, a quiet acknowledgment that he really was bad at this.

Tip laughed. "All the time," she said, then, throwing him a bone, added "there were giant evil slugs wandering around a few weeks ago."

What? That was an actual detail!

The relief on Norman's face was practically incandescent. Or maybe that was the faint blush spreading across his cheeks as he ducked his head in thanks for that bone she'd tossed him.

"Giant evil slugs," he repeated. "Yeah, that sounds about right. People were killing them, I'm guessing?"

It seemed like a fair assumption. No reason.

"I mean, they were evil, so yeah," Tip said. "We have a policy around here. If something tries to kill us, we try to kill it right back."

Yeah. Norman could see that with just a quick glance around the place.

Wow.

"Huh," he replied. And then hedged, "So, how often is 'all the time,' then?"

"Weird stuff, could happen pretty much any day. Especially on weekends. Things trying to kill us only happens about three times or so a year though."

Norman fell silent for a few beats too long to not be awkward. And then he sighed. Heavily.

"My Grandma told me to come here becase she thought it would be good for me," he muttered. "The brochure didn't say anything about evil slugs."

"I mean, we all keep coming back," Tip said. "And not all of us have to. So the good stuff pretty well outweighs the bad."

"Okay," Norman replied, shifting his weight a little, looking faintly uncomfortable. "So, there's good stuff, too. Good. That's good to know."

There was good stuff. Sometimes you had to dig deep to find it. Sometimes it didn't make up for the bad stuff. But at least there was something good, all the same.

"So... what's the good stuff?"

"What, you want a list?" Tip snorted, shaking her head. "Alright, let's see. Everyone here is at least a little bit weird. Like, one of my friends was replaced by a robot duplicate when she came back from summer break. And my sword teacher from another galaxy completely. Even the normal people are weird, just because they're normal and no one else is. I think the library might actually have literally every book ever published, and the librarian is an actual wizard who dresses like a noir detective. And if you can get through the bureaucracy, Portalocity can take you almost anywhere in the multiverse for relatively cheap. Any of those sound good to you?"

Norman followed all of that, nodding a little with every point. And when Tip was through, he nodded again, for good measure.

"It all does," he admitted. "Multiverse? That's... exactly what it sounds like, I'm guessing? The reason everyone here is so different?"

"Yup. That's why my Earth doesn't have the same history as yours -- or anyone else's here. It's pretty fascinating, actually. I spent a weekend as a multiversal anthroplogist last year."

"But only a weekend?" Norman might want to continue sitting down, if this conversation was going to start covering that the island didn't just summon weird stuff, it also occasionally turned people into weird stuff, too. "That's a pretty short career run."

"I was in my thirties, at the time."

Tip knew exactly what that sounded like, Norman, and she wasn't sorry.

"You'll get used to people saying stuff like that after awhile, too." She leaned forwards. "So, my turn: what brings you to Fandom?"

Norman's mouth was hanging open a little, and while he was a half-second away from protesting, her question made him shut it again and just kind of tilt his head for a moment instead.

"Me? Oh. I..." He quirked a tiny smile. "A brochure wound up at our house a couple of weeks back, and instead of throwing it out, I sat down and read it with my Grandma. She thought it would be a good opportunity to meet people." A beat. "And when I put it like that, I sound kind of hopeless. Great..."

Going to boarding school for the social opportunities. Good, good.

"Oh, don't worry," Tip said. "You've been sounding hopeless for most of this conversation." It was cute. "So are you one of the ones who's weird because he's normal?"

Hair and ears aside, anyway.

Norman hesitated for a moment, wondering, briefly, if maybe having a fresh start here meant that he ought to keep his sight a secret, too. Actually be like everybody else, for a change.

But he was lonely, not stupid, and it would only be a matter of days before he was caught chatting with the air, or crouching down and petting something that nobody but him could see.

So he shook his head.

"No," he sighed. "I think I'm one of the ones who's weird because he's weird."

It wouldn't be a good fresh start if he couldn't even be himself while making it, anyway.

That got him a broad smile from Tip.

"Cool," she said. She offered him her fist for a bump. "I never had many friends back home, either. Us weirdoes have to stick together."

Norman's own smile wasn't quite as broad, but it was definitely there as he reached in for the fistbump.

Thank you, Neil, for teaching him what that even was.

"I would say that having lots of friends is kind of overrated anyway, but that mostly just sounds like sour grapes," he admitted. "It'll be nice to be not just that quiet kid under the tree to somebody, though. I'm pretty sure I'm already that to a few people, anyway."

Summer, at least.

"Their loss," Tip decided. "So I figure you've already got a big sib and a roommate and all that, but if you need someone else to give you a heads up on things -- even if you're terrible at asking for it -- let me know."

"I would appreciate that, actually," Norman replied, nodding. "Sidon's well-meaning but a little too enthusiastic for me to really keep up, I think. And Mara seems okay? She's my roommate."

Which he could have just left at that, because having a girl for a roommate was a strange situation all on its own.

"I don't think she actually wanted a roomie this semester."

And it was going to feel really weird putting out all of his nerdy horror movie paraphernalia while she was there being all... poised and graceful on the other side of the room.

"Ooo, yeah. I got a new one this time around, too. The school's not always great at letting you know about it in advance."

But Molly seemed cool, so Tip didn't mind too much.

"I don't think I know Mara. Is she an upperclassman?"

"Yeaaaah," Norman replied, making a kind of 'eeeesh,' face before smiling and shaking his head. "She said this was her last semester, so I guess if nothing else, at least I won't have a roommate for long."

...

"Until they find me another one, huh?"

"I had a single for a whole semester," Tip said. "So they might forget to reassign you for awhile, at least. I'm a sophomore, by the way. Not that that counts for a whole lot around here, other than time til graduation."

"Hey, so am I," Norman said with a grin. And then a pause. And a headtilt. "It doesn't count for a lot?"

But wasn't that whole hierarchy thing half the focus of most high schools?

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