fandomhigh | Festivus in July, Fandom High front lawn, Friday afternoon

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!event: friday events

Festivus in July, Fandom High front lawn, Friday afternoon

Sometime during morning workshops, when no one was paying nearly enough attention except those concerned, the Fandom High schoolgrounds had filled with snow.

For the record, "those concerned" meant Rory Gilmore and several dozen snow cone distributors from the mainland. But who wants to ruin the illusion? Students who were curious might assume that it was simply a Festivus in July miracle, or some such.

In the middle of the lawn stood a bare, aluminum pole. Festivus tradition, you know.

[Yes, the schoolgrounds have snow. I'm weathermodding and saying it's cool enough today through this evening for it to stick, and it'll melt overnight. And yes, we're having Festivus in July. For those not in the know, here is a handy Wiki link! ~~Please wait for OCD.~~ Up, yay!]

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Peter was more than a bit uncomfortable about the snow in July situation. It was Fandom, true, but winter outside of winter was never a good situation.

Willow came over as soon as she spotted Peter. "You okay?" she asked, quietly.

"Afternoon," Peter said. "I was just about to come find you." He glanced from the snow to the aluminium pole. "I'm not particularly sure, actually."

Willow hugged him in what she hoped was a supportive manner.

Peter hugged her back, watching as much of the area as he could for polar bears or disturbing little dwarves.

"How can I make it better?" Willow asked, pulling back just enough so she could look up at him. She reached up to stroke his hair. "Do you want to go inside? We could be inside with blinds drawn and pretending it's a sunny day."

Peter glanced down at her and smiled. "No, I'd rather be out here. Tell me about this holiday thing? Why the pole? Shall there be maypole dancing later?"

"Okay," Willow said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "The pole's kind of symbolic? It's a stand against how commercial Christmas ended up getting. Plus some people don't like tinsel."

"So it's still a holiday based on Christmas?" Peter asked, giving her a quick kiss back. "And you're not disturbed by this at all?" It may have seemed like less than his entire attention was on her as he continued glancing around.

"More like a holiday in reaction to it?" Willow said. "Personally if it was up to me this isn't what I would've done for the school event, but given how they had short notice I can see why this is the compromise they went for. On the plus side the food table seems to have a little bit of everything. I guess catering was easier to get than decorations."

Peter made a face. "Seems a bit dour and hopeless." Not that either of those two words worried him at all. "Except for the good food part, of course."

"They're trying," Willow said. "Here. Let's have food. It's hard to be hopeless when you have latkes in you."

"I'm not hopeless, just concerned," Peter said with a nod. "So what then are latkes?"

"Potato pancakes, fried in oil," Willow said. She put her hand in his and led him over to the food table. "Which some may argue is why we ran out of it in the first place, but you can't argue the yumminess."

"Sounds good," Peter said, following her lead and squeezing her hand slightly. "When did you run out of oil?"

"About two thousand years ago, give or take a Tuesday," Willow said, giving his hand a squeeze back. "See, you celebrate your guy being born. We celebrate a miracle of oil lasting a whole week longer than it was supposed to. And apparently now we get smug about it, which is why we fry things."

Peter smiled. "It's the birth of hope in both cases that seems to be celebrated. Do you fry doughnuts as well? Or just potatoes?"

"I'm glad you asked," Willow said. She reached across the table and got a couple of donuts for them. She handed one to Peter. "Now tell me my holiday doesn't rule."

"It rules by the virtue of being your holiday," Peter said, accepting the donut.

"Which is a very nice thing to say," Willow replied. "Now what's one of your favorite foods? We can share in experiences. Especially since my parents aren't around to get upset."

"I don't think there's anything I like that's 'specifically' Christmas-oriented," Peter said. He spotted some gingerbread and whipped cream. "This would be lovely though." He offered a plate to Willow. "Gingerbread and whipped cream?"

"Please," Willow said, accepting it. She dipped the gingerbread into the whipped cream and nibbled on it. "Okay. So now the Festivus tradition is to air grievances."

Peter definitely stole a bit of whipped cream from Willow to enjoy with his gingerbread. Which was almost good enough to convince him that there weren't evil forces at play. "On a holiday? How exactly is this festive?" he asked. "What about holly or mistletoe or ever-burning candles?"

"No clue?" Willow admitted. "Maybe they're basing it off the day of atonement? Either way, I want to go first."

"I doubt the day of atonement is something that's awfully festive either," Peter pointed out. "But air your grievance? And if it's something I can help with, I shall do so."

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