fandomhigh | Fandom High Welcome Picnic, Front Lawn of the School, Saturday, All Day

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!event: welcome picnic

Fandom High Welcome Picnic, Front Lawn of the School, Saturday, All Day

So, it wasn't Fall yet by a long shot. The temperatures were still high, the leaves were still green, and the calendar still said August. But the calendar of consumerism didn't care about reality and thus, the welcome picnic was decorated for fall. The tables were covered in reds, oranges, and yellows, there was apple cider in the punch bowls and, of course, if the food on the table could come in pumpkin spice form, it was here in pumpkin spice form.

Enjoy your basic seasonal welcome picnic, everyone!

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"Oh!" Erasmus exclaimed. "I think I'm signed up for that, actually." He was a little concerned now that he knew it was being taught by a medic who also taught baking classes instead of a psychological professional, but he might have been less concerned if he'd met either of the island's psychological professionals. "I thought it might be useful for my, uh, work."

Stark had so much experience with trauma, though. So so much.

"What work is that?" he asked, curious.

Hopefully not deliberately traumatizing other people or anything like that.

"I'm a necromancer," Erasmus told him. "I raise the dead. So there are a lot of bereaved people involved."

"Oh!" Stark nodded. "I know a necromancer here. And...I deal with the dying, too. Not so much here. Not many deaths here."

For which he was grateful but also sometimes it worried him that he was failing at his whole existence.

"Someone told me once the right word here would be pyschopomp? For what I am. What I do."

"'Mistress Vess'?" Erasmus asked. "Professor Atreides told me about...about her." Look, it was a weird pronoun to use for a fellow necromancer. He'd adjust before he ever met the lady.

"I thought you were a medic." He was confused now.

"Liliana," Stark confirmed. "Yes. I don't think there are any others here."

Could be though. You just never knew.

"And I am a medic, sometimes. And a Stykera. That's...what I'm for. Dealing with dying. Tending to them. Helping them cross over, to The Other Side."

"Oh, that's not any of my business," Erasmus said quickly. "I don't have anything to do with any of that, that's the soul's business. They can do what they want."

Was this something people sometimes suspected necromancers of mucking around with? You betcha!

Oh, Erasmus and Liliana were going to have such interesting conversations.

Stark grinned at him for that.

"Yes. Right. They go where they're meant to and I just help them along, sometimes. Make the transition easier."

Erasmus just stared at Stark for a long moment, his left hand inching into a pocket and finding a particular charm he was just going to...keep in contact with. Just in case.

"Okay," he said eventually. "I'm going to choose to believe that we're having a failure of communication and whatever you're trying to tell me is not what it sounds like you're telling me." Because no offense, Stark, but Erasmus more than halfway suspected you of being a serial killer right now, and he needed those credits.

Stark paused, frowned, opened his mouth and then closed it again.

"What do you think I'm telling you?" he asked after a moment. He didn't think it was anything good.

"I mean, if someone came up to you and started talking about how they're a medic who helps their patients along sometimes, what would you think?" Erasmus asked him, like a dumbass who wanted to get serial killed.

"Oh no no no no no," Stark said. "Not that at all I'm sorry that's...I didn't think that was how it sounded I don't do that!"

Well. Hardly ever. Only when it was really necessary and not in a very long time but now was not the time to mention those sort of details.

"Helping souls cross over is just that. Souls. I'm not hurting anyone!"

Hardly ever!

"The medic thing...that came later. I've always been a Stykera. Forever. I'm sorry. Sorry sorry sorry. I'm not killing people. I promise. I'm sorry."

Edited 2025-08-31 02:53 (UTC)

"Oh," Erasmus said. "Well. This is awkward."

"I'm always awkward," Stark muttered. "Not you. My fault. Sorry sorry sorry. I'll...sorry. I should go. And not make it worse."

Maybe fling himself into the sea?

"That...might be for the best," Erasmus was forced to agree. Before either of them could make this worse. "I'll see you in class, sir?"

So maybe don't fling yourself into the sea.

But the sea was so tempting as a place to fling oneself when living on a small island!

"I'll be in class. And...it's just Stark. Not sir. Just Stark."

Except when it was James.

Erasmus was from Mississippi, Stark. So, "No, sir. My momma raised me better than that."

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Fandom High Welcome Picnic, Front Lawn of the School, Saturday, All Day

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