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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"I want a Christmas tree," Isabel said. "This is just not a good substitute for me. It's a perversion of the holiday."

Peter nodded vehemently. "Yes. If it's going to be snowing out of season, there needs to be Christmas to make up for it. Otherwise I just start worrying."

"We don't get much snow in Roswell, so that's not bothering me much," she said. "I just don't think a celebration calling for the airing of grievances is that happy."

"Airing of grievances?" Peter said. Then he saw the sign. "Oh. No. That's not entirely happy at all." He shrugged. "My home was stuck in a permanent winter for a time. So snow during the summer makes me wonder if a icicle wearing Queen is going to come up and start turning people into stone."

"Considering this was on the schedule they handed out a while back, I think we're safe. I'm sure this will be gone by tomorrow and we'll be back to withering in the heat," Isabel assured him. "But I can definitely see where it would bother you. Did you ever manage to defeat the icicle wearing Queen?"

"I'm sure you're right," Peter agreed. "Just...still. But we did just after my siblings and I arrived there. She was killed in battle so I ought not to worry except then one hears stories about time travel and such."

"Considering this morning the Doctor told me he met a man who bought a part of the ship we crashed in, only six in years from now. I totally understand," she said. "Sometimes when I think to hard about all the different realities and times that cross here? My brain starts to twitch."

Peter grinned. "Mine too, absolutely. He was telling me earlier that he was in London during the Blitz making sure aliens didn't fuse gas masks to our faces. The mind boggles."

"And reading the papers he gave us, the abominable Snowman is a front for an alien? I was telling Cedric, sometimes I think Max, Michael and I are the only non-evil aliens around." Isabel thought about the students at the school for a minute. "Well except for Aeryn and everyone from the Colonies."

"All the aliens I've met so far are very nice people," Peter replied. "Though I have to admit I've only met those here."

"There are some not so nice ones out there. I've met them," Isabel said. "Hopefully they'll stay away but you never know what the next invasion will bring."

"Though it could be useful if some of the aliens that you need to fight tried to invade Fandom," Peter pointed out. "The whole school could fight them and get them out of the way for you."

"That would be useful. But there's only one thing they want other then us dead," she said seriously. "And as of March, that's long gone. Hell it's probably back in their hands."

"Assuming the worst isn't a bad battle tactic, but it's hard for people to do for too long," Peter said. "It may not have happened." He grinned suddenly. "To quote my mum, 'no need to borrow trouble.'"

"I'm trying to be matter-of-fact about it. Because if it did happen, it's halfway across the galaxy by now," Isabel explained. "And there's not a thing I can do about it."

Peter nodded "But that's no kind of talk for a holiday," he said. "Even one as dour as this one. Have a piece of fruitcake?"

Isabel pulled out her bottle of Tabasco. "Sounds like a plan. Thank you."

Peter looked from the slice of fruitcake he was about to hand her to the Tabasco bottle and back. Handing it over slowly, he said "well, I really can't argue seeing as my nation is hardly known for their food preferences."

"It's an alien thing," she explained. "We have odd taste buds. Besides, it's fruitcake. It needs all the help it can get."

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Festivus in July, Fandom High front lawn, Friday afternoon

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