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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"Hey Astrid!" Tip greeted. At least she was relatively normal? She was visibly human anyway, and Bill was tucked away in her hair again, doing his barrette impression. "How's it going?"

"Oh, hey, Tip," Astrid smiled a little faintly. She thought about lying, she thought about complaining, but she went straight down the middle of the road in her answer. "It's going okay, I guess. Are you doing the rowing thing, too?"

Tip nodded. "That's the plan. I've never actually done it before, so I'm not going to win or anything, but it sounded like fun." She looked up at the clouds. "Of course, I didn't expect to get rained on when I signed up."

Astrid's eyes followed Tip's. "I guess," she mused, "they probably didn't want to cancel after putting all the effort into setting it up. I might hold out."

It reminded her almost of the sky in Amsterdam, and how they'd only really had a handful of sunny days, and all these hopes of rain that only were met half the time.

"I've never done anything like this before, either," she added. "Maybe we'll be paired up, and we'll spend the whole race just fighting to get ourselves out of a circle."

"Maybe," Tip agreed. "That could be fun in its own way."

"Would your robot be able to help?" Astrid would rather not think about Tip's robot, but it had been one of the more tangible things to wrap her head around, and not nearly so surprising once she'd experienced the Danger Shop. "Or would that be considered cheating?"

"I don't think anyone here is going to be too concerned about cheating," Tip said. Considering what sorts of powers and experiences Fandomites had, it'd be hard to try to force an even playing field. "But he only really blows bubbles. He can cushion a fall or confuse surveillance, but I don't think they come out strong enough to propel a boat."

Astrid had to admit, though, the image of little Bill puttering around Tip and her in a canoe, struggling to push them forward with a string of bubbles escaping him was a great one and would likely be scribbled into existence tonight when she had trouble sleeping..

"That's too bad," she said. "I guess I'll feel accomplished so long as I don't capsize or something."

Someday when she was feeling more comfortable, Astrid and Tip were going to have to swap drawings.

"As fun as being rescued on a jet ski might be, I'm with you." Tip's hair might put up with a light spray by the wind, but full dunking was going to wipe her twist-out right out.

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

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