fandomtownies | Friday Evening: Town Hall: Homecoming (8pm

The first thing that might be noticed when students walked into the Town Hall was the towering stone troll statues that had been dragged in to grace the corners of the dance floor. It being Homecoming and a semi-formal dance, the trolls were decked out appropriately in hats, glitter, and togas. Fairy lights were strung across the ceiling, some twined with streamers and some dripping glitter and confetti across the dance floor.

The walls were decorated with blown up pictures of significant events at Fandom: Graduations, the school blowing up, the Christmas pageants, plays, carnivals, zombies, all the moments that make Fandom Fandom. Given a place of honour on the walls were a mock up of an exploding volcano, a massive gremlin in a bow tie, and, of course, the Stickbug flag.

Large lit up snowmen congregated around the punch bowl against a snowy backdrop and across the ballroom near the stage, there was a mural of large dinosaurs reaching up to enjoy a glittery streamer dinner. The wall of the door though had the biggest picture of all - a painting of the island at night from across the water.

As students dropped off their wraps, they were pointed to vote for Homecoming Court then encouraged to proceed into the ballroom.

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"I can handle chilly," Blackheart said dismissively. "I can make the temperature drop around me, after all."

He shrugged.

"A winter getaway isn't so bad either, really."

"Aspen," she suggested. "You could ski!"

He really was doing his best not to look baffled. He really was.

He was just failing at it.

"What... is that?"

"...skiing? Going down a snowy slope on big things strapped to your feet?" she tried.

"... Why would anyone do something like that?"

"It's fun! It's a sport," she told him.

"Ah." Blackheart eyed her for a moment, as though perhaps gaging the sanity of the entire human race based on her alone. "Something like jumping motorbikes over mounds of dirt, I suppose?"

"Sort of," she said thoughtfully. "But there's no motor involved. Just you and some plank-things stuck on your feet. And gravity."

"Hm." He tilted his head thoughtfully, and then nodded. "Right. I might try it sometime."

He probably wouldn't, really. He still failed to see the appeal of hurtling downward at the mercy of gravity.

"We'll see."

"It takes some skill," she warned. "I've never tried."

"I'm sure I could figure it out," Blackheart decided. "Were I interested in doing so."

"Can I watch if you ever decide to?" With a camera.

"Yeah, sure." Only if you're plummeting to your death alongside me on planks at the mercy of gravity. "If I ever decide to."

"You could try this winter."

"I might have to do that."

The undercurrent was probably there. The very unspoken, 'but only if I go absolutely insane between now and then, thanks.'

"Probably don't have a ton of snow at home, after all," she pointed out astutely.

"I've heard of it. It's like ash. Only wetter."

That was close, wasn't it?

"Sort of," she agreed slowly. "Colder, too."

"Huh."

Blackheart was certain he could handle that.

"Do they get snow here?"

She nodded happily. "Not as much as I do at home, but yes!"

"When does that usually happen, then?"

He was curious. He'd never seen snow. Apparently people liked to risk breaking their necks on it. It was worth knowing.