Chapter Text
Stanford groaned, running his hands through his hair. Why the hell had he thought this would be a good idea? It was a week before midterms, of course no one was going to show up today! Still sitting there alone in the game hall did nothing ease his nerves or embarrassment. He probably looks like such an idiot right now.
It had always been much easier to hold these bi-monthly Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons campaigns when there were more people here. When there was a crowd of like-minded intellectuals and adventurers he never even felt self-conscious. But now sitting here alone with his board fully set-up but no one else to play with he just felt like such a sad loser. Like he was in high-school all over again.
He didn't even know anyone's names in their club! He'd never asked them when they all first met at the beginning of the year and now he was too embarrassed to try asking them now months later after they'd all become friends. But we're they really? Could they actually consider Ford their friend? He never saw any of them outside of D,D & more D. Even when they had the same classes it seemed like Ford was outside of whatever circle they developed. Why did Stanford always do this to himself?
However, just as Ford was about to disassemble his game board and continue his pity party back in his dorms the main doors to the game hall slammed open. One of his game-mates was hurrying through the room dodging ping-pongers and apologizing to chess players who he'd broken the concentration of. He was a kind southern fellow, an engineer major, who always loved to play bard in their campaigns and even brought along his banjo to play improvised folk songs. He could see he was carrying his banjo case in today too as he ran over to where Ford was sitting.
"Hey you! I'm awfully sorry to be late! Did everyone leave already?"
"Unless it was the shortest campaign in all D, D & more D history. I uhh- I didn't think anyone would come today. It being the week before midterms and all..."
The bard-guy sat down across from Stanford, flustered and breathing a little heavily. "I guess everyone needed to study some. Personally, last-minute cramming doesn't work a lick for me. I gave up on all that stressful nonsense long time ago. All it does it raise my blood pressure, ya'know?"
Ford nodded. "Yeah, I can understand that. I'm always the worst about last-minute work. Sometimes, I'll be studying and look at the clock and it's already three in the morning. That's actually why I had scheduled a campaign for today. To try and put my mind off school at least for a little while."
"Well then let's get started! Who do you wanna be?"
"Wait, you really want to play? But their's only two of us!"
"Eh, it may not be as exciting as when you get a full crowd of people but a two-person campaign can be done." The bard guy shrugged his shoulders and made a move to stand back up nervously. "But if it makes you uncomfortable or none, we can just wait till the next meeting when more folks show up-"
"No!" Stanford said, much louder than he had anticipated. "Uhh, I mean I don't mind playing with just you. I take it you'll want to be minstrel as usual?"
He grinned, taking his banjo out of it's case and strumming a little. "Of course. And yourself?"
"I was thinking of being a mage this campaign. Shall we roll for abilities?"
The game began and Ford found it was a lot more fun than he'd expected it to be. Sure a few of the chess players would shush them if they got too dramatic with their story or laughed too loudly when the die fell hilariously out of favor but Ford found he was paying them little mind. Even less mind than when there was a full party playing.
The bard guy would strum along the whole time, humming little ditties about Ford's mage exploring the unknown world and using both his magic and wit to escape from trolls and ogres. As they played, Stanford looked the guy more carefully. He was a rather lanky yet handsome fellow with a sweet warm smile and blond hair almost the color of amber. He was currently wearing a floral button-up shirt that while tacky somehow managed to look pleasing, even charming on him. But Ford found himself drawn mostly to his eyes. They were a pair of brilliant, sparkling blue eyes like a summer sky or precious gemstones.
Two hours later yet much sooner than either of them would of liked, Stanford rolled a 28 and had enough power to defeat the last monster on their board. The bard strummed a few cords of a victory song as Ford cheered. Probabilitor's evil was vanquished, Princess Unatainabelle was rescued and the game was finished.
The other guy put his banjo back in its case as Ford put away his game set and folded back up all his graph paper.
Just as the man was about to walk away he stopped and turned around. "Shoot! I hate to sound rude, but I can't seem to recall your name. I'm terribly sorry, what was it again?"
"Stanford Pines." He replied, putting out his hand on impulse. "And yours?"
The man grinned, taking his and shaking it firmly. "I'm Fiddleford Hadron McGucket."
When Fiddleford's brow furrowed and he looked down at his hand in confusion Stanford tried to quickly pull his hand out of the other's. And he felt his heart drop into his stomach as he watched his eyebrows rose and he realized that Ford had one to many fingers on his hand.
"You... You're a polydactyl?"
"Uh, yes I happen to be."
"Huh..."
Oh well, that small friendship was nice while it lasted but now it was time to go back to being the school freak. The friendless school freak.
But... Fiddleford didn't say anything of the sort. "Well, I've had a swell time here tonight, Stanford!"
Ford was dumbfounded. He wasn't going to say anything else?
"And thank you so much for putting today's board together!" He picked up his banjo case preparing to walk out.
Ford shrugged on his coat and hurried to respond to Fiddleford. "I uhh, I should be the one thanking you really Fiddleford. For actually coming in today! I don't know what I would of done if you hadn't show up."
"Well, it certainly was a pleasure playing with you! Say, can I expect to see you at next month's campaign?"
"Of course! I'm not part of many other clubs so I try to make every game I can."
"Alrighty, then see you then Stanford! Maybe we could hang out before then too, I'm almost always Either at the library or the campus workshop so don't be a stranger!"
"I'll try not to be!" With that Fiddleford was leaving the game hall and Ford watched him go first. They were actually heading in the same direction but he didn't want to follow Fiddleford right after they had already said goodbye to each other. Stanford might of died of that kind of embarrassment.
He hoped to see him before the next meeting in two weeks. From what Ford could recall they didn't have any classes together but maybe he could take Fidds up on his offer and visit him in the library. He was curious to hear more about Fiddleford's inventions that he'd brag about occasionally during their game. He was so kind, and talented and considerate and not to mention a scholar. Fiddleford was just all around a really great guy and Stanford really wanted to be his friend. Despite the fact that he had never really made a friend before.
Though when he left the game hall he couldn't help but wonder Why his face felt so hot all of a sudden. It hadn't felt that warm while they were playing had it?