fandomtownies | Parents' Weekend Meet & Greet, The Park, Friday Afternoon

Parents' Weekend Meet & Greet, The Park, Friday Afternoon

The day had dawned crisp and clear, but by the time afternoon had rolled around... it was really still kind of ridiculously warm for fall. People could probably get away with not wearing a sweater, even.

Which made rather good weather for a picnic, convenient since that was the traditional way of kicking off the Fandom High Parents' (and assorted other relatives, friends, acquaintances, or sometimes even enemies, but that was harder to fit nicely on a banner) Weekend. So there were rows of picnic tables decked out in blue and yellow, laid out with just about any sort of foodstuff one could imagine. And just in case there was any lingering doubt as to the purpose of the picnic, a glittery banner (Petra's work, naturally) adorned the registration tables:

[ooc: ocd up! registration / security / food & drink / mingling / post two ]

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You could also read her t-shirt, if you got bored with mingling.

She'd be onto you pretty quickly though, if you spent very long on that project. There was only the one word.

Jaime was certain he'd never seen a tunic the likes of the one the wench was wearing. Neither had he seen one that invited so much staring at her chest. Did Parent's Weekends draw in camp followers?

"Do tell me what you are supposed to be securing, wench," he asked, tilting his head as if the letters would change to tell him so.

Edited 2011-09-30 21:02 (UTC)

The school kind of drew in camp followers at one point; sadly for his brother, though, the whorehouse closed before he (or Bo) ever got to the island.

"The safety of the students," Bo said, raising an eyebrow at the term of address, but not too high. She'd met Jack Sparrow, after all. "Mostly from themselves, but every so often there's outside trouble."

"Trouble," he repeated, attempting to figure out which kind she was speaking off. "You do not look much like a Septa. I do not think the Seven would agree showing off that much, unless it is some sort of homage you are paying to the Maiden. Some of those statues are rather provoking of a different kind of worship."

He was the Kingslayer, blasphemy was the least of his worries.

Bo got the tone, but not really...any of the words. "I have no idea what you just said, aside from 'I'm not used to the way you're dressed' and I mostly got that from the staring. I'm Bo, and I'm not a....whatever that is."

She meant Septa, though the Maiden part was, well, yes, ahem.

[And I disappear for a bit as it is work-fleeing tiems!]

"Septa. It's..." he waved a hand. He didn't look like he was going to apologise for the staring. Mostly, he looked to still be staring. She was not Cersei, but there was something interesting about her aside from the letters across her bossom.

"Never mind, wench. I suppose a town without brothels might as well be one without religion as well. You definitely are not a wetnurse and these students all look as if they should be married and have seven children by now."

He was forgetting a part. Oh right. "I am Jaime Lannister."

Bo stuck with the things she had any idea of how to respond to, namely, "There's a church, I think," which clearly indicated exactly how many times she'd been to it, and "Lannister? Are you related to Tyrion?"

"Are there any other Lannisters about?" Jaime wondered. "I am his older brother. And do tell, how do you know my brother? Do you keep him secure as well?"

Bo laughed. "Well, his students haven't killed him yet, so I guess I've been doing my part. I met him at the Devil's Nest, though; I tend bar there."

"That is good to know," Jaime was smirking before he remembered that he was not interested. What was wrong with him? "I fail to be surprised to hear my brother is tending to the local inns, and now that you tell me you are tending there, I am even less so."

Act of succubus; if his sister asked, it was totally not his fault. "He did seem like a guy who knew his way around a bar; then again, around here, that's a survival mechanism."

The way Jaime's grip tightened on his sword served to give away what his survival mechanism was. "And what is it people are attempting to survive? I hope it is not boredom."

Bo snorted. "I can't guarantee you're not going to die around here, despite my job title, but I can guarantee it won't be from that. The bar, though, that's for surviving having to deal with teenagers."

Jaime patted the hilt of his sword. "I assure that I shall not die here, no matter how bored I may get. I feel to see what makes these students so special. Most of these wenches should be toting babes on their arms by now."

"We've got at least one of those." Rilla. "But around here the age for that kind of thing is usually a few years older. This is the time set aside for being stupid, getting in trouble, and driving grown-ups nuts."

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"Has anyone tired to kill anyone else yet?" Anakin asked, wandering up.

He probably shouldn't sound so hopeful, huh?

"Sorry to disappoint you." Probably not, no, but at least it got him a smile. "I haven't seen Jamie Madrox around today; that's probably why."

"Maybe tomorrow, then," Anakin said. "I probably won't be killing him--there's paperwork for that, right?"

"And I'd have to try to stop you, and you can lift rocks with your brain so you'd probably end up at least putting me in the hospital if not killing me too... that's a lot of forms to fill out."

"And someone would have to take over his class," Anakin added. "It just sounds like work."

Bo had actually looked up the name of Jamie Madrox's class, by now. "Though if anyone would be qualified to teach that class, I'm thinking you could do it."

Anakin chuckled. "Maybe. I'd love to give the board a piece of my mind about him, anyway."

"Did you by any chance do something to piss them off since you started teaching here?"

"It's likely," Anakin admitted.

"I'm shocked," answered Bo with an almost-straight face.

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