fandomhigh | Summer Camp Wednesday [The Docks], Wednesday, May 16, 2018, mid-morning

Anakin stood on the edge of the docks, a dozen rowboats bobbing the water around him. The clouds above were looking threatening (and kind of...not gray, which was odd), but so far the day had been dry. There was a set of bleachers (with canopies above them) set up for any spectators to cheer from, and the ambitious vendors from Mooby's were selling burgers and fries.

"Welcome to our first day of summer camp activities," Anakin yelled through the megaphone he'd acquired from...somewhere. "Our first community building activity will be a teachers versus students rowing race from here to the Isle of Ikea. The winning team receives a Big Mouth Billy Bass because I don't want it in my house any more, and all the Swedish meatballs they can eat. The losers get sore arms and the pleasure of not owning a singing fish award. In the event of a rowboat flipping, our PE instructor Steve Rogers will be out on a jet ski for rescue missions."

He looked at all the contestants. "I'll know if you're capsizing on purpose. Also, he's not that good looking. Contestants, please put on your life preservers while I call out the teams. For the students: Sabine and Beaker, Astrid and Jason, Rufus and Aloy, Theron and Tip, Norman and Khadgar, Peebee and Bobby, and Jaylah and Peridot. For the teachers: Amaya and Tony, Kanan and Magnus, Reno and Jenkins, Cara and Deadpool, and Liam and Zoe. Racers, man--or woman, or other--your ships."

Once everyone was in place, Anakin raised his hand. "On your marks, get set...go!"

...And that was when it started pouring rainbow colored-rain.

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Nah. Reno had killed plenty of people, but not necessarily just to watch them die.

"See, with your knowhow and my speed, I think we got this," Reno decided, grinning. "And if we don't... hey, at least it's a reason to get outta the house."

He offered Jenkins his hand.

"Reno."

"Jenkins." He gave Reno's hand a single, firm shake. "I suppose I'd best finish my popcorn quickly, then."

"Unless you can eat an' row at the same time, yeah," Reno laughed. "I ain't in no hurry, though."

He didn't really have anything to prove.

Neither did Jenkins. "Would you like some as well?"

"Hey, thanks," said Reno, who had spent too much time living on whatever could be foraged between Midgar and Edge to be able to turn down an offer of food. "Been a while since I had popcorn, yo. Nothin' so frivolous back home, and no time to stop and enjoy it the next place I went."

They were going to just chat and eat popcorn until the race was half done, weren't they?

It seemed not unlikely. "Oh? Was the next place also a desert community?"

"Same place, different time," Reno confirmed with a nod. "Great thing about meetin' people at a school connected to different corners of the multiverse, I guess."

Cheerfully screwing with the timestream in order to save the lifestream seemed to have become a new hobby, but he was done with it, and so back to the island to see if he could do any good here, for Ino, before going back to Edge.

"Ah, time travel," Jenkins said with a nod. "Tricky stuff, though quite exciting so long as the timeline doesn't unravel around you. . . ."

"Tell me about it," Reno replied, rolling his eyes toward the sky. He'd seen the timeline unravel pretty thoroughly already by virtue of just one guy not being dead. He didn't want to know where it was going to head from there.

... At which point a raindrop hit him on the head and he squinted a little.

"Instead, I get Fandom, for now. No complaints there.

"You've got a bit of . . . color, there," Jenkins said, pointing to where the rain drop had hit. And watching his own finger get dyed blue by another drop. ". . . Interesting."

"Figures," Reno said, lifting his hand to brush the water away, staining his fingers orange and purple. "Rowin' in the rain? Ain't that a stupid idea anyway?"

Okay, it wasn't an intense rain or anything. It wasn't like the boats were going to fill up. But again, desert kid. Who knew?

"People have rowed in the rain for centuries," Jenkins said, watching as more drops stained his skin and suit varying colors. "It will be a technicolor boat race."

He was going to have to figure out who to charge for the cleaning bill.

"Huh," Reno said, going cross-eyed for a moment as a streak of red down the bridge of his nose joined the twin streaks of red tattooed to his cheeks. "Well, at least it'll be interestin' for people to watch."

As if it wasn't already.

"Is the popcorn gonna hold up?"

Because he wasn't above eating soggy popcorn, but eeh...

Jenkins shook the box, watching purple and yellow and blue and green swirl through it and shrivel the puffed kernels. "Alas," he said. "I don't believe it will." He tossed the box aside. "I suppose we ought to get in our boat, then."

Since the others had already shoved off and were on their way, and all.

"Looks like," Reno replied, shrugging and making his way toward the boat. "Then I guess I'm gonna need some rowing lessons."

Seriously, what was he even doing here?

"It shouldn't be too difficult," Jenkins assured him. "As I recall the only real trick is navigating while going backwards."

"An' really, how bad can we screw that up?"

Well...

They were rowing in open water to an island! The currents could do all sorts of things! What could possibly go wrong?

"That's the spirit, Mr. Reno. Let's shove off, then."

"Let's shove off, yo," Reno agreed, climbing into the boat.

How could they possibly lose?

Summer Camp Wednesday [The Docks], Wednesday, May 16, 2018, mid-morning

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