fandomhighdorms | Behind The Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

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Behind The Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

Arthur had made sure to set up behind the dorms with a reasonable level of visibility. It was, after all, the first meeting since the welcome picnic, and they had to make themselves obvious to the newbies should one or two be drawn to the gathering.

"Good afternoon, people. I am Arthur Pendragon, and these are Zack Fair and Leto Atreides."

He had even let Zack supply the cookies this time. He figured it wouldn't hurt to charm a few, either.

"For those of you who have only just arrived on Fandom, welcome to the Fighting Reserves. Here is where we practice and plan for any invasions with the help of sinew, steel, and other materials from worlds beyond our ken. If you're looking for another way to contribute, Magic Reserves meets on Monday in the Preserve, and Support Services meets on Friday in the park."

That, apparently, were the administrative messages.

"Now, this is the week of the introduction, as most of you know. So if you're new, or you'd like to give the newcomers an update on your abilities, please, let us know who you are and what you can do. Everyone else," and he rubbed his hands as he considered the area severely, "please share your experiences with Fandom invasions, how we handled them, and maybe one or two ideas about how to better handle them next time round."

"Newbies," he continued, "Please keep in mind that the island likes to keep us on our toes, so whatever has invaded in the past will likely not be what invades next. That doesn't mean we can't prepare. Now, get to it."

[[ oooopen ]]

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"If you're going to go into the sewers, make sure you're not wearing something you like," she mentioned.

"Yeah," Kennedy jumped in, "or your good leather boots if you're gonna be kicking giant tomatoes."

"And putting your hair up or leaving it down is a decision you should certainly make carefully."

Fiona got a little bit of an odd look for that, since Kennedy didn't really think about that sort of thing much. ~~Looking good while slaying was way more important in her world than dressing practically for it, duh.~~ "That before or after you decide how you're arming up?"

It did come out somewhat acidically. Sorry, Fiona; that's just how she was with most people.

"Before. Long hair gives a human enemy something to grab. It gives a small measure of protection against smaller irritants. Going into a slimey or bloody situation with your hair down can be distracting and affect your visibility. Coming out of it with your hair up can mean hours of washing, rewashing, and pulling out knots."

The arch look was returned in kind. And with interest.

"The point was to be practical."

"Duh. Do I look like the kind of girl who'd go out fighting in high heels?" The lecture was something like her Watcher would give, and Kennedy half listened, wearing the same more interested than she really was expression she did when Constance went on along those lines.

Oh, but she did have a counter. "Sure, if you know in advance, or you're not trying to hide what you're up to. Looking like you're ready for a fight, though, doesn't always work to your advantage." Like, say, if you wanted a vampire to think you were an unsuspecting victim. In theory. "You do what you gotta do, whenever you have to do it. The rest of that stuff's just details."

Said the girl who'd been really bitchy about those boots getting ruined.

"Obviously," and there was a bit of disdain (no, really, only a bit, as she was trying to be restrained), "but if the point we were making was 'think about what you're wearing', I'd think your hair is part of that. Right along with your boots."

She tilted her head.

"Or are you contradicting yourself now?"

"Shyeah," Kennedy scoffed, not exactly thinking about who she was being bitchy at or putting much effort into restraint. (This, sadly enough, was going to be a habit with her.) She so had been contradicting herself, but come on, a yo-yo? "I'm just saying, it's not like we can dictate when or how stuff's gonna go down. Yeah, yeah, sure, think about what you're wearing, but obviously don't get too attached to it either."

Someone had heard about what happened at the Sunnydale High prom last year. Don't think she hadn't wrangled information out of Constance about that.

"Besides," she grumbled, "it wasn't that hard to replace the boots."

That actually made Fiona laugh, just a little. Something about how she'd grumbled over her lost cause of a sun dress when she'd had to go into the sewers. The similarity won out over the annoyance.

"I have to agree with that."

...don't be hatin' on the yo-yo, though.

Hey. Potential Slayer who thought she was badass here. Sorry again, Fiona (the narrative was sorry even if Kennedy was not), there was going to be some hatin' on the yo-yo. Or at least Pointed Skepticism.

At least she relented a little. "You too, huh?"

She was used to it. And the boggling reveal was sometimes worth it.

"Sun dress. Utterly ruined. It was one of the first things I'd ever bought."

It'd probably be really worth it in this case.

"Yeah, it's kind of a bitch, but--" Up went the eyebrow. "Ever as in ever ever?"

Fiona nodded, with a small wince.

"Until my birthday last year, we were only allowed to wear clothes my great-grandmother made herself."

You could see from Fiona's expression just how much she'd loved that. It was tempered somewhat with the fact that she loved Cee, but when you had to wear ill-fitting, uncomfortable, scratchy, unflattering things done up like bad 70's interior design (http://www.lileks.com/institute/interiors/BHG/chpt2/2.html), wincing was about all you could do.

Yeah, it was obvious, and despite her initial prickliness Kennedy couldn't help a wince of sympathy. A tiny one, granted, since with her upbringing it stretched the capacity of her imagination to relate.

"God. That kinda blows," was all she could think of to say. "You ever try to blow that rule off?"

She snorted.

"Tried. Failed. My mother is kind of..."

There were very few words that could adequately describe Fiona's mother. The fact that she was the Pale Horseman and one of the Fates (you know, the last one) said a lot.

She was also just fricking scary when she wanted to be.

"No."

Fiona smirked, however.

"But as soon as I got here, I corrected things with a shopping trip. And my aunt Dallas brought a few nice things when she came."

Yeeeeeeeeeeah, talk about stuff that'd give Kennedy a major wiggins. Also stick a nice big skewer in her ego if you were into that sort of thing. She knew that smirk, though, and matched it with one of her own. (Oddly enough, that was easy when she didn't know all of the above.)

"Fun, isn't it?"

"Really fun."

Whatever else her uncle Henry had done (and she could forgive him far more easily than her mother, though not because of this), the expense account was one of her favorite perks.

Expense accounts (or, you know, Dad's credit cards) were the best thing ever.

"Kinda awesome," Kennedy agreed. "I mean, the great-grandmother thing, not my deal, but the rest I kinda get."

"We grew up kind of weird because of some stuff with my family," she admitted with a shrug, "that's all. Cee was pretty cool otherwise."

She couldn't cook, bake, sew, or anything else, but she loved them.

"It's cool," Kennedy said idly. "The more-or-less-normal--" no, Kennedy, you so did not get to claim normality here-- "is overrated anyway."

Fiona didn't quite agree, but then again, her experiences with 'normal' didn't really exist and her experiences with not-normal ranged from dull, boring, geek-freak to going to die within 24 hours if she and her brother didn't infiltrate a US military installation in Roswell, NM.

"Fiona," she finally said, holding out a hand.

Oops. "I thought so. I've seen you around." Kennedy shook her hand briefly, but firmly. "Tara's roommate, right? I'm Kennedy."

She nodded.

"I've seen you, but we've never really spoken much," she admitted with a small smile.

Fiona was good at being unobtrusive, after all.

Kennedy wouldn't know how to be unobtrusive if unobtrusive came up and hit her over the head, on the other hand.

"Not so much, no," she allowed. "You're never around when I drop by, seems like."

"I practice a lot. And I like to wander. Another one of those rules I like to ignore now."

The twins' movements had been relatively restrained.

"Or I'm looking for Griff."

The teleporter boyfriend wasn't all that easy to find sometimes.

Re: Fandom Invasions

brat_inslayage - 2010-01-05 21:26 (UTC) - Expand

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