fandomhigh | Reclaiming Your Childhood, Monday, Period 1 [9/2]

Students had ~~handwavily~~ been informed to meet at the old campground today, where they would find Ghanima and Trebor waiting, and a fire already in process.

"Good morning!" Ghanima started off cheerfully, once it seemed everyone had arrived who was going to arrive. "I am Ghanima Atreides, and this is 'Reclaiming Your Childhood.'"

"The goal of this class is simple: I, like most likely many of you, lacked what could be termed a 'normal' childhood," she said bluntly. "You may have noticed by now, but Fandom Island seems to attract the unconventional resident."

"And as a still relatively new parent, attempting to navigate the world with Trebor, I decided... why not? Why not give myself, and everyone else who was interested, a chance to do the things you always wanted to do, but never got the chance?" Ghanima continued. "So, to start off today, we're starting simple with s'mores!"

She gestured to the supplies laid out around the campfire. "We're going to do this in a few different steps. First, everyone pick out a journal and pen from the box over there. Do not worry, we are not doing therapy journaling -- unless you want to -- it is mostly so that you always have a pen and paper for my Suggestion Box. Trebor?"

Trebor, just happy to be helping, beamed, and held up a wooden box with a hinged lid and a slit in the top.

"Very good, beloved," Ghanima praised him. "The Suggestion Box is for things you want to do. It is one-hundred percent anonymous, so that you do not have to feel self-conscious about your requests. Just jot down a on your papers things you think would be fun, and put them in the box, or hand them off to Trebor and he can put them in the box. He cannot read yet, so do not fret on that front."

"Once you have had a chance to pick out your journal, let's get started on making some s'mores and doing some introductions." Ghanima smiled brightly. "Paper first, as it were, and sticky fingers second."

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Once you have chosen your journal and writing supplies, Ghanima has all the supplies for s'mores laid out, and the fire is going!

"I'll get us started," Ghanima offered, putting a marshmallow on a skewer for Trebor and helping him put it in the fire. "I am Ghanima Atreides, and this is my son, Trebor. I have been teaching at Fandom for many years now, but I was born the Princess Royal of the Imperium, on a plant many lightyears away, over ten-thousand years in one of Earth's many possible futures."

"Younger versions of both my twin brother and my step-mother have been students here, which was certainly an experience for me as a teacher! I was introduced to Earth culture by many good friends, mostly through movies, showing experiences I had never heard of before. Bowling? Does not exist in my time! Pizza? Extinct! And so, I thought perhaps we could enjoy some of these experiences together."

She smiled brightly at the person to her left. "You're next!

"Quinn Maybrook," Quinn said. "And, uh. I guess most of my childhood was pretty normal? Until my mom became an addict, anyway. And then OD'd. And then Dad and I ran away from the city to try to get away from the grief and ended up at the center of a bunch of nutjobs trying to murder people."

A beat.

"So those bits were . . . less normal."

"It is my understanding that murder is not part of most people's formative years," Ghanima acknowledged. "However, I can empathize, having been the target of multiple assassination attempts before I reached my majority."

"The 'nutjobs' can take a toll on your mental health, as well as your physical safety."

Among the 'nutjobs' trying to kill her had been her step-aunt and her own aunt/regent. Ghanima understood just how traumatizing it could be.

Quinn at least didn't know most of the people who tried to kill her personally before they tried to kill her.

Her friends Rust and Cole did not have that advantage.

"Ever been in a massacre?" Quinn asked, sounding vaguely curious. Which was to large extent the most emotive she tended to be when she wasn't, say, feeling murderous herself.

"My father named me 'Spoil of War,'" Ghanima said dryly. "I regret to say that I have witnessed a few." And ordered a few others, in her role as Empress.

"I was also born with the genetic memories of all my female ancestors. I remember human history through their eyes, and I have seen much."

"Ah." Quinn nodded. "I've only seen three."

Only.

"I'm Gray," Gray said. He would love to participate in the s'mores but would pass for not-traumatizing-Arden ~~if she was there~~ reasons. "Uh. Where to start. I'm several thousand years old. Until I was eight I was raised by my dad, who was a really good dad! But he was also, uh, evil...and there weren't any other kids around. I was sort of raised in a war camp." After a brief pause, he said, very quickly like maybe if he got it out fast enough no one would ask questions about it, "And then I was kidnapped and I was in basically boot camp until I turned eighteen."

So. Yeah.

"Combat training does not leave much room for 'fun,'" Ghanima replied. "My mother's people teach our children how to kill by the time they are Trebor's age... my aunts and uncles on that side of the family feel I am raising my son too 'soft,' and it is a point of contention within my culture."

"Hopefully this class gives you the chance to try out some experiences you have missed-out on up to this point."

"Jonathan Sims," Jon introduced himself. He was staying a respectful distance from the fire and just nibbling on a graham cracker. "Jon. I...well, I suppose...my parents died when I was young, and my grandmother raised me, so that's a bit different. But she did do her best. And there were...other things...that meant I was possibly more traumatized than other children my age. But I'm not really certain what a normal childhood would be."

Look, he was in this class because trying to have fun sounded like a much better idea for him than listening to other people's trauma, which could only end badly.

"I'm Nell and I've been here for a while."

Nell had not signed up for this class, but she figured the moose must have had a good reason and she was pretty much always one to make the best of things.

"I grew up in a cult and was married at 12, so my childhood wasn't exactly what most people here would call normal."

"Henry," Henry introduced herself, grateful for the fact that not having (or at least, not volunteering, in her case) a last name wasn't all that unusual here in Fandom.

"My dad," was murdered by the man who would later become her mentor, "died when I was a little kid, and I grew up on the road with my mom. We didn't really stay put anywhere for very long."

"Uh..." Arden was as far away from the fire where they were making s'mores as it was possible to be without actually leaving the clearing. "I'm Arden Finch. Junior. I'm an orphan, my parents died when I was just a few days old, so I spent the first seven years being bounced from foster home to foster home, before I was...taken in by the woman who became my legal guardian. I left her house the day I turned eighteen and came here."

Reclaiming Your Childhood, Monday, Period 1 [9/2]

Introductions & S'mores!

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