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

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!event: welcome picnic

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

Despite the fact that this picnic was celebrating the coming fall semester, it was still technically summer, and the weather was making that clear. It was sunny, with not a cloud in the sky, and the temperature was seasonably toasty.

With not a minute to spare, the food was ready, the tables and chairs had been spread across the lawn with just the right amount of glitter on them, and everything was ready to welcome a new batch of folks to the island.

[OCD is up! This is part one of the picnic, specifically for meeting siblings, roommates, and teachers. The rest of the picnic is happening here. Since it's outside, the picnic is open to all students, teachers, and townies!]

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Booker had already had all of the coffee, but he definitely needed more coffee. "Wait, you're a teacher?" Was she old enough to be a teacher? Booker's sense of human age was kind of screwed up but she didn't seem old enough to be a teacher. But also, "Warnings?"

More coffee was clearly indicated.

And Summer grinned again.

"I am," she said with no small amount of pride. "Economics this semester, but I've also done some cooking classes and one on multidimensional adventuring, which segues nicely into the part about the warnings, because I swear, everyone gets a different brochure and some people don't even realise they're here to teach, so I don't know where you are going into this, but you should at least know that this place is a little...weird."

"Wow, that's a very broad subject set," he observed, then repeated, "Multidimensional adventuring. Is that code for...what, Dungeons & Dragons?" Yes, Booker knew what Dungeons & Dragons was. They had played a game in the 80s. It hadn't ended well.

He didn't understand how you could teach a class on it, though.

Summer let out a snort of a laugh. "Ugh, god, no," she said; sure, she may be almost kinda maybe dating a huge fucking nerd now, did she look even remotely the type? "Although there are a few of those, I'll give you that. Mine was more...space adventures, based on real life experiences, but simulated in our super advanced simulation classroom, because that is a thing that we have."

Her head tilted a little at him thoughtfully.

"What are you teaching? Do you know yet?"

"French," Booker said.

Because that was a real class, unlike whatever the hell she had just said.

"...oh, boy," said Summer, because, yeah. That really was a real class, wasn't it?

"Have you taught French before?" she ventured.

Booker was aware that he currently gave off a generalized air of incompetence, but he could honestly say, "Yeah, I taught at a sixth form in England a few years ago." He paused, then added, "Also, I'm French, so I have a natural advantage."

"I can see why that could be an advantage," Summer allowed. "But I didn't ask because I doubted your ability. I was just trying to get an idea of your experience in, you know, schools. I'm sure a lot of other schools are weird in their own way. Hell, my old school before Fandom High had a vampire for a couch once and we had to slay, like, half the football team, but this place? Is definitely up there. I mean, just look around. Freya over there is a giant rat person, Mae over there looks like a cat, Cait over there is a cat and a stuffed one and I once had a fake kid with him show up. There's at least a half dozen people here who look like they got lost on the way to the Ren Faire, but they did not. And just last weekend, we had actual night mares invade the town trying to get everyone's bad memories all over each other and the only way to defeat them was with the power of Happy Thoughts."

Booker pulled himself out of his haze of self-pity and alcohol enough to actually look around.

Huh.

"Are you sure I'm not just hallucinating?" It was a very strong possibility.

"I mean," said Summer, "you could be. I don't know what's going on inside that ruggedly dishevled head of yours," look it was a definitely a thing for her, "but I can assure you that those things I've pointed out are not hallucinations, they're just the faculty and students at good old Fandom High."

Booker considered this for a long moment, then said, "One moment." He set down his Starbucks cup, reached into his jacket, took out his flask, added more of its contents to said Starbucks cup, then screwed the cap back on the flask and put it back in his pocket.

He took a long drink from the Starbucks cup before he said, "Go on."

Yeah. That was fair.

"Basically," Summer said, once she felt he was ready...or as much as he was going to, "you're in an interdimensional nexus where people from all realities and universes congregate to live on a picturesque little island, go to school and teach in a castle, and just sort of try to survive? There's a lot of weird people, and a lot of weird stuff happens, like, I mean, a lot, and there are these things called gremlins that, if they bite you, then you will hallucinate into thinking you're someone else, and there are squirrels literally everywhere because they run around recording everything that happens for a daily morning news broadcast every day, but if there's anything you want them to keep hush-hush, they're total drunks with a penchant for rum, and they can always be bribed. And speaking of rum, it probably won't surprise you that we've got two bars, and I don't think it's very ethical of me to mention it, but I will mention I'm the bartender at the one called Caritas on Wednesday, and I definitely will owe you one on the house after you survive the first week."

Okay. That was a lot. But that kid over there was a cat, so it seemed true enough. Booker chuckled darkly. "Don't worry, my surviving the first week is not in doubt."

Wait. "Tell me more about the surveillance squirrels." For someone trying to keep off the radar, that was a major problem right there.

Summer did just kind of meet you, Booker, but...no, she definitely had doubts. But he also hadn't just dismissed her as crazy or trying to haze him yet, so maybe she should give him more credit.

"Radio squirrels," she said, nodding, "right. Look around, you'll see them. I know Leroy's definitely lurking around here somewhere becaues he always tries to get my beat. But that's beside the point. They have little tiny notebooks and make little tiny notes about what everyone does for the day, and then they compile them together and someone reads the notes over the radio every morning. Of course, if you don't want them to say anything, just give them some rum, they're very easy to bribe, or you can just get in good with some of the broadcasters. For the record, I do the report on Thursday almost every Friday morning, and I can be very discrete."

Yeeaaah, that was a problem. Especially since that squirrel in that tree over there was wearing a tiny fedora, so he didn't think Summer was fucking with him. "I'm kind of into my privacy," Booker said, giving said squirrel ye olde stinkeye.

Listen, he was just drunk enough to roll with it.

And Summer was going to send a look after that stink eye to implore the squirrels to maybe not be butts about the new drunk teacher who clearly just wanted to be left alone.

She didn't think it would work, but she could at least try.

"On the bright side," she offered, "at least it seems you rarely find yourself in a position without at least a few drops on hand."

"Bribery, huh?" Booker needed his alcohol, but hell, how much could some squirrels drink?

He was going to regret that rhetorical question.

"Okay. I'm sure it'll be fine."

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," said Summer, encouragingly, with a nod to match.

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

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