fandomhigh | BWI Airport Portalocity Lounge, Saturday morning

Entry tags:

!event: newbie shuttle

BWI Airport Portalocity Lounge, Saturday morning

"Portalocity lounge," Mae read aloud, and heaved a sigh of relief. "Finally. First time I ever travel alone and I get lost in the stupid airport." She walked into the lounge, looked around, and hopped up onto the bench, her duffel bag tucked under her feet. There was plenty of room, since her legs were too short to reach the ground. "Of course, it's bigger than, like, all of Possum Springs put together, so I guess that can't be too surprising. Good thing Mom and Dad insisted I take the early bus."

She tapped her heels on her duffel bag and eyed the door. "And now I'm talking to myself. Good job, Mae. Perfect first impression." She made her eyes comically wide and waved to an imaginary audience. "HeY, I'M mAe, i'M TOtallY NOrmAl, niCE To MEeT yoU." She frowned and tapped her feet harder. "Good job, Killer."

Another glance around the lounge. There wasn't a lot to look at yet.

"I wish I had a video game."

[NEWBIE SHUTTLE TIME! Possibly slightly early, but I want a distraction]

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Well. Trevor was sort of from a video game. Kinda.

At least he wasn't in that shitty barbarian outfit in this version. Instead he was in clothing that might be vaguely period appropriate. You know, For the 15th century.

"What. The fuck."

Language less so as he stumbled on into the waiting area.

Mae raised an eyebrow. "Nice cosplay, dude."

Was she sarcastic? It was hard to tell just now. If she wasn't, she was definitely hedging her bets to make sure she didn't obviously approve of his outfit.

His hand went immediately to the whip at his side because, you know, talking cat person. Then stared for a moment longer as he tried to put those words together.

"Alright. Had some bad beer. Everything's... Alright."

Mae nodded wisely. "My dad used to do that sometimes."

Her dad had stopped drinking entirely, these days.

"Are you going to boarding school, too?"

Maybe he got lost on the way to the Renaissance Festival.

Well, he sure as hell wasn't gonna stop.

Trevor sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face like it'd help. "A what now?"

Look, he was a fancy boy because he could read.

Edited 2018-12-28 20:38 (UTC)

"A school," Mae said slowly. "Where they give you boards."

Mae.

Trevor actually snorted at that, being more than fluent in sarcasm despite the time gap. "Pass."

"I don't know, man," Mae said. "Boards are useful. You can fend off wolves with them."

"Not very well." He was totally going to smack wolf!Alucard with a board in the future. "I've got weapons to deal with that."

"Okay, but I can't you can't build things out of your other weapons," Mae pointed out. "Boards are multipurpose."

"But I'm not building anything." Check and mate!

It was cute how he thought that.

"Why not?"

He thought that of many things. Was he right? Not really. But maybe one day...

"Why would I want to?" Other than to get over his teenage angst.

"Because you're lost in the woods and need a shelter," Mae said. "Because living with other people sucks. Because sometimes it's fun to hit things with a hammer and not break them. Because you're bored and you've already read all your ghost story books five thousand times. . . ." There were many reasons to build things! "Oh! Because sometimes if you do it right you can really freak out your weird elderly neighbors!"

Mae had managed to build more than one random demon sculpture in her youth, yes.

MAE, NO. DON'T DO THAT.

"I can sleep in a tree," Trevor began, counting off each response with his fingers. "And I don't live with anyone. I have weapons to hit people with. And don't read ghost stories."

He sort of lived them.

". . . You realize I said hit things, not people, right?"

Look, hitting people was something of a sore spot for Mae right now.

"...same thing." Look, things were less likely to come after him with pitchforks or torches, so...

"I mean. No. They really are not."

That was some serious side-eye you were getting now, Trevor. MAE HAD WORKED REALLY HARD ON REMEMBERING THAT PEOPLE WERE PEOPLE AND NOT THINGS, TREVOR.

DEAL WITH IT. HE WAS FULL OF THAT SWEET TRAUMA.

"What does this have to do with building things again?"

"Making things instead of breaking them. It's good for your, like, soul, or whatever."

Breaking things was also fun, but sometimes you just wanted that sweet, sweet, soul improvement.

"I've been told my soul is 'bound for the fiery pits of hell,'" Trevor said, deepening his voice dramatically like he was pretending to be on of the many shitty priests he'd run across in the past couple years.

"I think that's just something people say when they disapprove of your lifestyle."

"Usually disapprove with fire," he added blandly.

"If you had boards, you could use them to make campfires out of their disapproval."

Trevor opened his mouth to correct her on that before thinking better of it. Even if this was a weird fucking hallucination, it wasn't worth it. "Sure."

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