fandomhigh | Summer Shenanigans [Wednesday mid-morning]

Good morning, everyone! The sun was shining, the weather was getting pleasantly warm and Anakin had set himself up in the park with a bullhorn and a bunch of giant plastic storage containers full of liquids. Ice water, orange soda, chocolate pudding, the leftover slime...

Surely this will end well for everybody!

"Today you will participate in the ten toes challenge!" Anakin announced. "Working in teams, you will lay on your backs and balance these containers on your socked feet. Then, going in a circle, you must each take off one sock, then the other, without tipping the liquid onto yourselves. It's about teamwork!"

And gravity. And Anakin's personal amusement.

"Come down when I call your name and get your team socks!" He grinned. "Oh, and no powers, please. That takes away the fun."

The fun for the audience.

TEAM SMILEY TOE SOCKS
Sam
Steph
Henry
Luma
Gray

TEAM CAT FEET
Steve R
Jonathan
Jaina
Arden
Quinn

TEAM SHARKS
Stewart
Raiden
Hannibal
Eleanor
Rey

TEAM SANDALS
Lydia
Belle
Remy
Flint
Vi

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Obviously, the moment he got his socks, Stewart was actually putting one on his arm, and then gripping it with his other hand and shouting as if an actual shark was currently eating his arm as it flailed around slightly.

Hannibal chuckled. "These are amusing, although I'm not certain how you would stuff the fins into shoes."

At the chuckle, Stewart stopped abruptly; there was a split second of eying Hannibal suspiciously before the motion of his arms continued, but not as a pantomime of his shark attack, but a sort of waving dance move as he pulled the sock of his arm.

"They're probably not meant to go in shoes," he pointed out. "Lounging socks. For indoors."

Of which Hannibal looked like these sharks might be the first pair of such socks that he'd owned.

Hannibal preferred silk socks and slippers, it was true.

He considered that, then shook his head. "The cats would adore them, I'm sure. I would never get more than three steps without my feet being attacked."

Impulsively, Stewart's sock did, in fact, attack his other arm again, like he couldn't hear the word without immediately being compelled to dive right back into his one-man recreation of all the best scenes in Jaws.

And he was clearly more comfortable with doing that than having actual conversations with other people, and so he eventually sort of awkwardly just added, "You have cats?"

You were doing fine, Stewart! Actual conversation!

"Two of them," Hannibal answered. "One is an old man, and one is a kitten, and has been for years."

Joni was the Peter Pan of cats.

It hurt. It buuuurned.

Or maybe that was just the sun? Stewart hadn't hissed at it in a good while.

His nose wrinkled a little as he tried to figure out why he was even doing any of this in the first place, a frequent and unsolvable question, before venturing, "Are you disappointed?" He nodded toward where another team was slowly collecting. "That you weren't bestowed with the cat socks instead?"

He obviously felt they'd clearly gotten the best ones, but he was used to most people being wrong.

"Of course not," Hannibal said. "Sharks are lovely creatures. Not to mention delicious."

Look, you had your priorities, he had his.

Now that seemed to catch Stewart's attention far more than just some boring rote small talk about some guy's cats. His chin lifted with interest.

"Isn't that illegal, in some places?"

He was pretty sure he'd read something like that on the ^{~*~dArK wEb~*~}.

"Eating shark, no," Hannibal said. "Shark fin soup, yes." He shrugged. "Some people were cutting the fins off and throwing them back, which is cruel and wasteful. Though my first year here, we had an overabundance of them fall from the sky, so we ate what we pleased. They grill nicely."

Stewart's interest immediately began to wane with Hannibal's initial response, but it seemed to sustain itself with the rest of it.

"Sharks from the sky?" he had to ask. "As in, the heavens opened up to dump the contents of a well-popukated shark tank on the island, or was this more of a fantastical phenomenal weather pattern situation? A sharknado, of sorts? Or I suppose, considering thr coastal configuration of iur current community, more of some kind of shark-icane?"

"The latter," Hannibal answered. "Not the island's only sharkicane, either." He shrugged. Fandom; what could you do?

Well, you could eat the things it threw at you. There was that.

There was, of course, but one thing to say to that, as Stewart took a moment to imagine the chaos and destruction of such a thing, with a devilish grin forming around the word.

"Wondrous."

Hannibal grinned. "Stay here long enough, you're bound to get something large and interesting thrown through your window."

Summer Shenanigans [Wednesday mid-morning]

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