Ninth Spectrum Paintball has entirely too many colours of paintball. There are neons, pastels, glitterballs, UV-reactive paint visible under blacklight, blacks, whites, metallics... All of these and more are available in the rental building by the parking lot.
Anyone going out on the ranges is not allowed out without at least a minimum of gear, that being suitable boots, gloves to protect the hands and the all-important face mask. If they want to have bare arms and get their fancy clothes shot up, that's up to them, but there are tough BDU-style rentals for those who prefer camo and don't want to buy it.
Those, too, it must be noted, come in entirely too many colours.
Players are given the option of renting either a paintball pistol or rifle, depending upon whether they prefer sneaking up close or pegging people from afar. For tonight's melee, the paintballs are free, so players are allowed to choose whichever single colour they prefer.
For reasons of being sure which person pegged which target, players are asked to avoid the multipacks and to each have a different colour.
When participants in the melee are done getting themselves set up, an employee escorts them to the castle range to wait for the event to start!
To be clear? Amanda Green is not here to shoot paintballs. Further, it would seem Green might not understand the core concept. Because instead of BDUs, or dark colors, or anything that looks appropriate for the setting, the woman is in Vermont preppy. Riding boots, brown trousers, plaid, layers, a navy peacoat. But perhaps the odd dress can be explains by the whole not playing bit. Green is also wearing a bright orange vest, not unlike those the refs might wear. She wears a camera around her neck, and has her Tamarack Times press badge on display. She'd been taking pictures for a while now, but as the event starts moving, Green pauses to put on her helmet, keeping her grumbling about her hair entirely internal, and heads for the field! Then? More pictures.
Shooting people?! Yeah, Count signed up for this day pretty quick, and he'd have been here early too, shopping for a brand new paint ball rifle, considering his old one was, as they say, 'lost in the move'. The Horned Beast of Winter is dressed in combat boots, black jeans, and a tee-shirt that read 'Sex Drugs Unicorns' amongst other graphical nonsense. He's also got, hanging around his neck, some sort of mask, that looks like a cross between a standard face guard and something Jason Voorhees would wear, with grooves cut in the top to accommodate a man with horns.
As November refused to let Count simply wait in one of the trees for people to arrive so he could pick them off one by one, he's relaxing just inside, near the employee, cooling his heels and waiting for others.
Gold, Count has picked Gold paint.
November herself is just inside the range's high boundary wall, awaiting her vic--ahem, participants for the evening's event. The range itself is brightly lit, despite the fading of the light, a network of lights above the range assuring that nighttime play is definitely possible. Chatting with Count, while she has a paintball rifle, it's leaning against the sturdy wood of the palisade wall instead of in her hands, hopper emblazoned with the Ninth Spectrum name and logo. The colourful young woman, making herself all the brighter, has a neon vest with stripes of coloured reflective tape over its surface to ensure she is amply visible as NOT a target.
Who's that girl?... It's Frank! Serving up Airsoft Guerrilla Wargurl looks; drab grey fatigues tucked into black boots, and a snug long-sleeved black shirt with a high collar, under an oversized over-dyed black army jacket that's loose enough to give her movement, but not so loose that it flaps around all crazy like. No. Franky is here to be like, a good sport -- her hair's even pulled back into a ponytail, damnit. There's not a single piece of visible jewellery on her, no: only a paintball pistol or two strapped to her bod somehow -- she is looking Tactical, yo.
Franklyn's also walking alongside C.B, chattering along animatedly as she adjusts the straps on the face-mask she's yet to put on. "...I don't give a shit, more is better: culture spreads like the surface on a body of water. Why fight the tide, like some kind of King Canute? Culture will always spread towards fissures and gaps, eroding whatever down below with the ebb and flow of time - it doesn't matter how many waves you make, culture - and society - always searches for an equilibrium..."
So. Standard pre-paintball chatter for the Mortal and the Author, then. Franklyn ughs and fidgets more with the mask; oblivious of what she should be doing next. "This better not leave a mark on my face."
What colour has Franky chosen? Acid green, y'all.
"Speaking of fissures and gaps, paintball seems like a pretty big one," C.B. says, usual frown in place as he strolls up with Franklyn. He himself is actually wearing an outfit that he, well. Wears sometimes, in normal circumstances: your standard green army BDUs, olive drab t-shirt, olive drab army jacket, Korean jungle boots. Camo bandana holding his hair back -- yes, headband style around his forehead. There was that one time he wore this outfit for a week straight...anyway, does he have his own paintball gun? Only if Franky bought him some, because he's never played the game before. He's strictly into /real/ bullets, doncha know. Maybe BB guns would be okay. Anyhoo, whenever it's time to pick a paintball color, he goes for red. There's something about red and C.B. Alexander that just belong together. "Don't worry about your face, Franky," he says, taking a look around -- is anyone spottable just yet? He's checking. "Worry about the rest of you."
Pictures! All the pictures! Green does a whole spread of November, and maybe Count gets in the way of a few. And then when she spots Fort Brunsett's hottest celebrity couple - Crank? CeeRank? FrankBee? FrankBee - she starts pointing her lens that way. Click, click, click! Oh, and are there other people here? Yeah, okay, them too.
When it seems the group is all together, November gooses Count and steps forward to greet them, beckoning for the other referee to join her. "Welcome to the melee." After a quick visual headcount, she glances over their heads toward the guide, who shakes his head, then tells the group, "We're a few short, but hopefully they'll join in later. Looks like we'll have a game of two against one, here, unless we can persuade the lovely Miss Green to join us." She doesn't sound like she expects that to happen, however, seeing as she rolls right along. "There are two castles out there. Red-Blue is right over there--" she points some ten yards or so away, "--and Green-Yellow is off on the other end of the range. Since there are only two teams tonight, we're going Red and Yellow. Who wants to be on which colour?"
Because the color red flows so freely from C.B.'s veins?
Count looks up as Franklyn and C.B. arrive, and those black lips if his slide into a feral grin, looking Franklyn up and down, and letting out a low, almost cartoonish, wolf whistle. "Mmm Frankalicious, looking good dollface..." and even as he speaks he makes his way over her her,, slips up close to give her a half hug, and a rather familiar kiss on the chook. "Rambo meets the Runway, I dig it."
And then he looks to CB and moves over to him. "Mister Alexander!, Welcome, I'm So glad your here!" Enthusiastic, Friendly, and then, Unless C.B. pushes Count away, he too will get a one armed half hug, and yes, a kiss on the cheek.
Count Might be doing this to pose for Green's camera, or he's just being Count, and no one knows why he does what he does.
Then he breaks away, and says "I'll go take yellow." Count volunteers.
Yellow is Gold, Count likes Gold.
"Ceebabes, honestly - I'd rather I get battered up somewhere I can cover up, yeah? There's only so far makeup and excuses can go..." Franklyn chatters idly, oblivious - totally oblivious! - to everyone around her as she fixes her paintball mask. She's not even posing for Green's camera! That must be a first, right?
As November speaks, Franklyn looks up -- blinking as she Vaguely Recognises the woman; because honestly how could she not remember the whole dance-off thing... Still, Franky gets all uncharacteristically Silent as she listens -- it's not until Count speaks to her that Franky tears her attention away and finds some words, "...Ah! Thanks luvvie, it's borderline techninja, right? All I need is a black hawk." Polite yet chaste air-kiss to Count's cheek is given, then she mmms and steps back, smiling as Count and C.B. go about their whole... Greeting ceremony.
"...Red team. We're red team." Frank pipes up, looking to November quickly. Oh! There's Green? She gets an enthusiastic wave, and then a little pose is struck for the benefit of that camera, because... Because that's inevitable.
C.B. eyes up November. November is...eyeable, even though C.B.'s encountered her a few times before. He grunts as she explains the game, arms folded, listening...then his eyes trail over to Green. He smirks a little, giving her a bit of an eyeroll, except then the red-blooded C.B. is brought back to earth by an intruding Count.
Does Count get a bit of a scowl from C.B. when he kisses Franky and calls her dollface? Oh yes, he does. Except then his brows go up and he actually turns a bit red as Count gives him a hug and a kiss, too. "No need to lie, Count," he snarks, but at least he's not pushing the guy away. Just turning the color of the paintball he chose.
To Franklyn, he nods. "Yeah. Red Team. Red /Army/," he corrects, grinning slightly, though not enough to show many teeth. "I've never shot one of these things before," C.B. says, gesturing with one of his paintball pistols. The question is for November. "Anything special we should know about how paintball works?"
Oh, Green is taking pictures? Good thing someone shows up with their face mask already halfway pulled down. Teagan is not wearing rented clothes, but then, like, have you seen what they wear? Paint splatters could generally only improve the black skinny jeans, black shitkickers, and the long, ratty-ass black coat which has replaced their summer leather jacket. Paintballs? Silver, currently being loaded into their pistol, gloves tucked under one arm. No greetings, not yet. The Summer is silent, preparing for ... uh... a fun game, not war. A fun, fun game. Never mind the radiant heat and the distant crackle of radios that never seem to say anything.
Oh, yes. There are pictures of Count and CB kissing. Or whatever it was. There's pictures of Franklyn posing. "You look marvelous, love!" she decrees. Because, well, it really is pretty ridiculous, the full-on combat wear. Then a new person arrives. Green's brows going up - unseen behind the mask she does wear - and then she's taking another picture. "Have fun, Tea!" she says. As a reminder. Fun, Teagan. Fun.
Calm is late, but that's okay. Better late than never, or whatever. She's wearing jeans and a tank top when she wanders in, which is not good attire for paintballing in, but at the same time the bruises probably won't ever show on her dark skin, and who's going to give her grief? That's the weirder thing than her attire, really; though to mortal eyes she looks like an extraordinary but entirely human woman, there's something entirely otherworldly about her that leaves people awestruck.
Despite all of that she does manage to get geared up, with help since she has no clue what she's doing with paintball equipment, and picks out blue paintballs. She's lead out onto the field late, which means teams have pretty much already been decided, so she just asks in a voice that to the mortals is cool and ethereal and to the Lost is entirely otherworldly, "which team should I be on?"
Good thing Green reminded Teagan that this is, like, fun, because at least half of Team Yellow didn't get the 'rifle OR pistol' memo. Teagan? Has both. Of course they do. The rifle's already slung across their back, and when Green calls to them, they tug their face mask a bit, screwing up their face a little and then approaching her to lean and kiss her on the cheek. Or at the corner of her mouth. One of the two. "Everything is fun," they answer drily, and go back to prepping. "But I'll try, babe." They tip their chin up a bit in general, their fractured-mirror eyes skating their view around to oh look everything is fine it's all fine everyone be calm because it's Calm!
November nods, and holds up a fist to get attention. "Team Yellow, over here. Team Red, over there." She glances aside toward the other referee, who pulls out velcro armbands of the appropriate colours for the teammates to wear. "Rules are simple. Each castle has a flag. You want the other team's flag.
"First team to get both their OWN flag AND the opposing team's flag into their castle's flagstand wins the round.
"If you get shot, you're sidelined until a flag has been captured. Then you can 'respawn'.
"Shooting another player out of the game is 1 point for your team. Capturing their flag is 5 points. Getting it to your home base is 10 points. First team to hit 30 points total will win the melee."
The rainbow turns when Calm arrives, though she, herself, is Masked; no rainbow awesomeitude here. Alas. She glances at the woman, looks her up and down, offers a warm smile, then points toward CB and Franklyn, seeing as Franklyn is the only mortal player. "Be Team Red, lovely. That's C.B. Alexander and Franklyn Garreau. Over there we have Count and..." An employee leans in to note Teagan's name. "Teagan. I'm November an Nua, the owner."
Franklyn's guerilla-girl posturing for the camera comes to a halt, as she clocks in on Count and C.B. and the rosy reaction -- ya girl? She hides that Complicated Expression via immediately putting on that paintball mask of hers; gloved hand lifted to pull her ponytail through, so it's all /comfortable/ and stuff.
There's a muffled laugh from Franky, eyes rolled behind tinted safety plastic as she chatters on, "Alright Ceebabes, let's not like, get totally /Potemkin/, yeah? I can only push so many babies down so many flights of stairs..." Franklyn raises a hand, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder. This done? She moves to check her paintball pistol because... Because she vaguely knows what she's doing. Sure. Totally. How could she not? Franklyn's #blessed.
Only -how- blessed can the Mortal girl really be? Because midway through checking her faux-pistol, Franklyn glances up to hear November saying something about her name and talking to-- ... Franklyn merely turns away from November and Calm, all making sure that the paintball magazine is properly fitted and that she's standing close to C.B. and Count and that she's keeping her peripheral vision towards Novie and Calm and - SHE'S CALM, Franklyn's calm, she's cool, she's like a frackin' cucumber mate... Just, just... Just checkin' that pistol innit.
Teagan can kiss... The corner of Green's mask? The cheek of her mask? Yeah, there's no pretty lips to be found, just the black of a mask. Still, her smile shows in her eyes. Then she turns, and there's Calm. Oh, God, what the fuck is that. Green keeps her eyes neutral (and her face blessedly covered) and then glances over to November, then to Count. Anyone else freaking the fuck out? No? Okay then. She'll just point her camera at Calm and snap a few pictures. Then step out of the way. "No shooting the photographer!" she calls, loudly. "Else I send Enid lewd gossip about you," she threatens.
"Team Red it is then," says Calm after spending a moment turning nebulae eyes on each of the members of the other team. "Good luck to you," she says after a moment, sounding perhaps surprisingly sincere. Then she turns to her own team and says, "a pleasure to meet you all. It's C.B.," she gestures to him, "and Franklyn," to her. "I'm Calm. I've never done this before, so is there anything that I should know? Other than that I assume we want to shoot the other team, and not get shot ourselves?" She doesn't seem to be phased by her presence, but that would be kind of strange wouldn't it?
Count nods to Teagan, flashing her a quick grin, before he puts in that serial killer paintball Mask of his, untangling from C.B. and patting the man on his shoulder. Then he moves around the two red-teamers, hip-bumping Franklyn as he passes, and then heads towards the gate. He's got his rifle in hand, and he's waiting, taping his foot in semi-patience.
When Calm arrives, he looks her over with a stoic, golden eyed gaze, and with Novembers words, adds her to the target list. Heading over towards Teagan he leans in and asks her "You know how to shoot?"
C.B. tilts his head, watching Teagan and Green for a brief moment -- until Calm captures his attention, of course, and he manages to slow the widening of his eyes at the very last moment. He lets out a sigh, brow furrowing as he listens to November list out the rules. "Are we supposed to have two guns, one of each? I have two pistols," he asks. He turns to Franky next, gesturing with his paintball pistol. "Relax. I'll -- " He sighs again and puts his own visor down. "Whatever. So, this is basically a game for people who want to shoot guns, but are too scared to shoot guns?" There's a snort at this assessment.
And heeeeeere's his new teammate. "Uh...hi, Calm." He doesn't bother to question Lost names, much as he may want to poke fun. "I've never done this before either." He gestures up at November, a touch crossly. "Ask her."
November glances at Calm, then repeats the rules was saying when Calm walked into the park (which her player isn't pasting again for spam prevention), and adds a note of, "Do NOT shoot your opponents in the face. If a referee-" she gestures toward herself and the other ref, whose nametag says Jorge, "-whistles for play to stop, everyone stops shooting so we can judge if you are lying about being hit. Any other questions before we get started?" She pauses a moment, then gestures toward the range. "If not, jog off to position yourselves around your team's castle. The horn will mark the start of the round."
There's a sort of darkly-amused expression on Teagan's face at kissing Green's mask, as if there's some sort of joke. Ha ha. They pull their mask down. Their head tips up, and they scan the rest of the people assembled. No backpack tonight, so where is the pointy thing? Not visible currently, anyway. "Hey, y'all. Hey Ceebs." A wink. They finish fiddling with both their guns, and as they start to put on their gloves? Count asks them that question. A snort of amusement and a sharp burst of crackling static come together, one from the Mirrorskin, one from their bone-melting-heat Mantle. Silently, they turn one of their palms up to the horned Winter's inspection, then pull gloves on. Mask or mien, there are deep, thick, nasty-looking scars across each of their palms, the kind only Squires of the Broken Bough get. "It ain't my best weapon. But yeah. I know how to shoot. You?"
"Nah babes, it's a game for people who wanna shoot people and not end up in fuckin' jail." Oooh girl. Franklyn's words to C.B. may be dulled by the mask, but there's still a twang of amusement wrapped up with that muffled sharpness. Has she just side-stepped towards him, kind of behind him a bit, as Calm... Talks to her? Gawd, Franklyn is so fucking rude, because she doesn't even -talk- to the woman, she just sort of... Vaguely nods and looks away.
It must be so alienating to be so... Wyrd. So Sublime.
Franklyn certainly doesn't seem like she's going to try and clarify any of the rules to Calm, no. She's... She's not looking at Teagan either -- Green gets a -LOOK-, although it's a) complicate, b) hidden behind at least two masks, so who knows how much information actually filters through, no. So where does Franklyn's attention end up?...
Out there, in the distance, towards the Yellow 'castle' in the distance. The trees. The rocks. The terrain between here and there. Franklyn grunts quietly, then leans in to speak into the comms device -- one hand tapping out to touch C.B. gently on the arm, and start moving towards the Red 'castle'.
Calm looks at Franklyn when CB suggests she's the one to ask about advice. The gear she's wearing covers a fair bit of her, which helps a tiny bit in concealing the weirdness of her, but not that well, and it's not always very comfortable to have her staring at someone. "Any suggestions, or should we just get into position?" When she gets silence in answer she simply stands where she was for a moment and then starts going to get into position. "This should be illuminating," she says to herself, and to anyone who happens to still be listening. Maybe CB?
"Oh Good." And Teagan's answer seems to please Count something fierce, a smile spreading on his lips, a bastardly, evil smile, and he inclines his head to his teammate. "You could say that." And then Count is giving Teagan a light punch on the shoulder, and jogging off down the field. The Yellow Keep is the furthest away, so Count takes his time to scope out the lay of the land on the way to his castle.
Green is still close enough to hear Franklyn throw 'jail' at CB. Is she giggling behind the mask? Surely not! And looking at Frank? Nope! She's moving a light jog that probably has more vertical movement than horizontal. All so she can follow after November. Yep, that's her plan. Stick close to Novy. As if, what, that'll keep her safe?
"Teagan," C.B. says by way of greeting, nodding at the Darkling. His look is somehow grim and friendly at the same time. Is that possible? Maybe with Ceebs. Franky, though? She gets a bonafide scowl from him, enough so that she can probably see it around the mask. "Should it be?" he asks Calm because yes, he was still listening, and then he begins to follow Franky out towards their team's castle.
A little shake of Teagan's head at, well, something or other. The Mirrorskin's face is mostly hidden behind their mask at this point anyway. Count's grin and punch to the shoulder make them chuckle, too, and the gesture's returned as Teagan heads off to the far-away castle in which there will be, indeed, no princess.
November seems to have no problem with Green hanging out beside her to avoid the big scary monster. She pats the whistle around her neck, scoops up her paintball rifle (just in case; you never know when you might need to shoot Count in the tenderest hindmost parts), and goes to the midline of the range. Since it seems everyone is in position, she hits the button.
HOOOOOOOOOOOORN!!
Well, since the Red team are COWARDS, Count starts to move, rifle up and ready, and starts to move across the field, sticking to trees, and moving like the Winter Ninja he is, sneak sneak sneak.... through the trees, towards the reds, ready to react...
Count goes one way? Teagan goes the other. Their rifle's slung over their back, and they, too, go sneaking. Off toward the brook, and the trees, where one can climb up and be hidden. Sort of. There are lights and everything, but still. The Darkling mutters something under their breath, and goes to take their spot behind the tree. Or maybe in it.
Who's the Drama Queen of her castle? Franklyn, that's who. She's... Well nobody can really see her from the outside - but on the inside? C.B. and Calm will be privy to the Mortal girl just... Sticking well in the corner, for some reason, quite... Far away from Calm -- but her eyes remain fixed on that red flag of hers, as she speaks into the comms bit of her paintball mask. Ugh. Is Ms. Garreau is a fucking /camper/? Or has she taken a xanax by mistake?
Whatever she's up to, Franky isn't so slow-moving that she can't lift a hand, and flip C.B. off for... Some reason. Then? Then she moves forward, to get a view from that thin window-slot, angling herself to the side so she can get a partial view of the field in front of them.
Calm as can be, Calm steps into view in the window. She's far back enough from the light that all that's visible of her is an outline in silhouette, but to be honest that's all that's ever visible of her. On the other hand, there is a person visible now, scanning the illuminated area outside looking for targets, making herself convenient to shoot at. For anyone who can actually bring themselves to shoot at her.
Under cover of darkness! C.B. the Fugitive slips from the castle, pistol in hand, and runs over to yonder big tree. Damn, the Wizened is fast -- one might even say he is lightning-fast. Powered by electricity and paranoia. It makes for a speedy combo.
Count, who was sneaking among the rocks around, like a goddamned NINJA, those golden eyes alert for movement as he approaches the enemy's keep, the red keep... And then there is a flash of electric movement and count shoots... and misses, the beasts golden balls missing CB's face by INCHES.
Green spots a CB on the move! And then shots fired! She points, she shoots! Click, click! "... Uh... did... you just see that?" Green asks, dumbly, to November. Upon seeing CB matrix dodge that painball.
Stupid slippery tree bark. Stupid gloves. Stupid. More Darkling muttering, but they struggle their way up the tree after a slippery-handed misstart. Teagan silences themselves once they're not on the ground anymore, and readies for round two.
November glances aside toward Green at the woman's comment, leaning in to murmur something sotto voce.
Green senses "November murmurs, "He is very swift. His kind can do such things, though not without cost.""
You sense Green blinks, and lowers her voice, to respond. "Seems bloody stupid thing to do! For a paintball game?! What if someone sees..."
Green senses "November's voice is warm with unspoken laughter as she retorts, "This is the man who firebombed a police station, lovely...""
Count is moving closer! Damnit, Tracking where CB is, weaving through the rocks, glowering at the fact that he missed, moving closer, keeping low, paintball rifle to his shoulder, moving to take another shot at the Electro-Arachnid-Social-Librarian.
Pfft.
The Golden paint zooooms towards CB, because Count is a CHEATER.
Calm remains in the window, making herself a convenient target and chatting on the comms while she tries to pick up where their foes are. She doesn't seem to be really concerned about being shot at, but maybe she thinks nobody can see her? Or she's just confident that nobody will want to attack her, because she's so awesome
Being in a tree, hitting someone who is -- or was -- behind cover? It isn't easy. A silver paintball splatters at CB's feet a second after he's hit by Count, and Teagan mutters into the green/yellow comms.
Yes, C.B. is the kind of person who makes a loud noise when he's hit, yes. Straight in the shoulder with gold paint. "SONOVA--" Cursing to himself, he stomps back to the castle the silver missing him by inches.
Are team Red Menace communicating via coms? Who can tell. Not anybody outside, not unless they've got a super cool surveillance thing going on. Wouldn't that be neat? Something happens inside the Red Castle -- Franklyn is not-looking-at-Calm, but she's suddenly realised... She is alone with Calm.
Not for long.
Franklyn starts to move -- heading... Some which way. Which way? Thatta-way: sneaking her sneaky Mortal butt down and out, out the back of the Castle and towards the... East? Sneak-sneak-sneaking around back and towards... somewhere, presumably... For more reasons.
CB getting shot? Green will take a picture of that! She can stop snickering at whatever November said long enough to do that, at least.
Count moves ever closer, and spots the face and shoulders of CDalm in the windo, still sneaking among the rocks, the Beast stalks ever closer, like a lion through the grass, and takes aim again, the gun making a little set of PFTPFTPFT sounds as they shoot through the window, and hopefully not hit the Shadow Monster Lady, in the eye, lets hope for the neck, or something.
The tree is boring, and no one's coming close enough to shoot: Teagan slides down out of said tree. Not exactly fully gracefully, but, you know. It gets the job done. "Fuckin' gloves," they mutter: they're not used to using safety equipment. Something something death wish.
The shadowy shape of Calm seems to blur a bit as the paintball comes through the window, and she almost manages to get out of the way of the shot, but it clips her shoulder as it's going by and the ball shatters, covering her with paint. "Interesting," she says, looking down at it. "I suppose that means I'm out." She laughs softly and says into the comms, "Franklyn, I guess it's all up to you." She leans out the window to look around again, then hops out the window to start heading out of bounds.
Count is moving towards the castle! And I cant see Frank so that's all he does! SNEAK SNEAK SNEAK.
November yells across the field, "Mr. Alexander! To the sideline, please! You were shot."
Grumbling to himself, C.B. wanders from the castle back over to the sidelines. He gives November the hairy eyeball -- why?! She's not wrong! -- before talking into the comm piece that he still has. Also, unless November tries to stop him, he is going to light up a goddamn cigarette while he's out of the game!
There's a splash of water, so maybe that gives Teagan away -- they jump the brook, and try to make their way across without getting seen. There's something... really frustrating about being a Darkling with this much light. Maybe it's more light than Teagan was expecting. Maybe Fate -- about whom Teagan complains so much -- is just deciding that today's the day Teags is her bitch. Whatever it is, they're not as sneaky as Count.
Green snaps a few more pictures of CB and Calm walking off the field. So sad. And then, well, she starts looking for the others. Because, she needs pictures of this! Oh, hey... there's Teagan. They ought to hide better. And Count, yep, he's right there. Oh, there's Frank peeking her head out... And, oh! November, again! Look at that pretty face.
Count SNEAKS MOAR! SNEAK SNEAK SNEAK. THIS IS A SHORT POSE FROM ME TO KEEP THING MOVING FASTER.
Creep - aah, oooh, yeah - so Franklyn creeps; the twenty third of loneliness-- no wait, wrong song. Franklyn is passing up on the east-side of the Castle -- not that anybody would... Uh... Notice... But the girl -is- murmuring into her comms device. If only there was an exceptionally eagle eyed photographer, to capture her smirking and rooooolling her eyes as she sneaks.
The Darkling finds some trees to disappear behind. Who does see them? Oh, Green. Green and her fucking camera. They would shake their fist, if they knew. But instead They don't know, so Teagan only sneaks.
Calm nearly walks into Frankly when they reach the corner at the same time, but is about half a second behind in passing through that spot and simply walks behind her teammate without so much as faltering in her step, as if it where choreographed. She keeps watching the battle going on, but doesn't halt in her strides.
And then Count spots Franklyn, and he smiles. It's not a /NICE/ smile. It's full of gleefull malice as he lifts the rifle, and twitches his fingers, aiming directly for Franklyn's... 'Center Mass'
Pft pft pft.
Count's Golden Balls splatter their goo all over Franklyn's Chest.
I'M SORRY I HAD TO TYPE THAT
Is all fair, in love and war?
One moment Franklyn is doing her Mortal best to sneak, sneak, sneak -- the next? She is spotted, and like a deer in headlights by the time she fully comprehends what's happening, it is Too Late.
Getting hit in the chest? By paintballs? Hurts like a bitch. Franklyn lurches backwards, stumbles, and clutches at her chest, paintball pistol still in palm. This? This is all par of the course -- but as she notices all the golden paint start to seep over her notably fashionable combat gear? Franky falls to one knee, throwing her head back as she leans forward and groans, pushing paint all over her torso like she was trying to stop the 'bleeding'.
A gold hand raises up, and rips the mask from her face -- Franklyn actually sobs, but it is bitter -- bitter and, and... Brutal.
Hands reach out, pointing a gold-splattered piston in Count's direction. J'accuse!
"Et tu, Brute!?" And with one final sob, she falls over...
...For like 2 seconds. Then she's bouncing up, taking a bow, and running.... Away!
Further back from Count, Teagan starts moving up quickly to try to catch up with their teammate, bringing up their pistol... but gold splatters across Franklyn before Teagan can get a shot off, and they comment into the comms. They absently adjust the weapon hanging across their back, and then trots off -- more openly -- toward the castle to capture the flag. With all the other combatants off the field, there's nothing stopping them from a casual jog. And turning up the lapels of their ratty coat to block that fucking camera.
Click, click! Count taking aim, then over to Franklyn, right as gold splatters on her! Green's vantage point up here must be killer, because she sees it all. And she captures it all. A few dozen pictures in a row of Franklyn's dramatics. Oh, how Green smiles behind her mask. Smug and amused and so very lovey-dovey all at once!
But then, Teagan is doing a victory run! ... Victory jog, okay, whatever, still! Victorious, all the same. And Green captures it all!
November blows her whistle, then gets out a megaphone to call out, "ALRIGHT, FOLKS. TEAM YELLOW HAS CAPTURED RED'S FLAG. THAT'S 3 POINTS FOR SHOOTING EVERYONE ON TEAM RED, 5 FOR TAKING THE FLAG, 10 FOR GETTING IT BACK GO THEIR BASE, MAKING IT 18 YELLOW, 0 RED."
She glances toward the sideline, then adds, "TEAM RED, BACK ON THE FIELD. LET'S SEE IF YOU CAN KICK SOME BOOTY. COUNT DESERVES IT."
After Franklyn is Down, Count stops sneaking, and in fact, climbs up onto one of the tall Rocks to look around, and he's smiling, just a bit, looking rather... pleased? Smug? It's not exactly a victory pose, save for the fact that by default, any pose that Count makes at this point is by default, the pose of a victor.
The Mirrorskin actually laughs aloud when Count climbs the rock, and -- holding that big flag on the side of their body where Green is, to try to block them from being seen by that razzinfrazzin camera -- they draw up alongside him, taking a moment to pose next to him. "Smug motherfucker." Said with all the 'enjoy your victory at WAR' that a Summer can have, mind. Then after taking the flag back? Teagan goes to prep for round two.
Oh. November is yelling? Count is looking smug? Green's capture photographic evidence of her amazing brutal takedown by people who're older, faster, meaner, craftier and Winterier than her?
Yeah shit just got too Wyrd. Franklyn is Officially Over It. Franklyn is Done. Franklyn is Not Even.
Franklyn is... Swinging her mask around with one hand, and holding a double fingered 'V' up in the air as she strolls off, heading to where C.B. slunk off to brood and smoke cigarettes presumably. She points at him, then jerks a gold-smdudged finger in the direction of the parking lot.
Oh, she does like, drop all of her rented crap off at the tables. Then presuming C.B. hasn't escaped already or ignored her completely? Franklyn will escape with him. Go go chain smoking, bourbon drinking, prose writing nightmare friends. Enemies? Frenemies? Wyrd knows what those two surly n' effete literati snobs are about.
"Are we leaving?" C.B. was still standing by the sidelines, smoking and scowling at the smugness of Team Yellow. "We're just gonna let those bastards win?" he yells, gesturing at them -- but then he just turns on his heel and follows her out, flicking his cigarette away, littering in November's nice clean parking lot. And that's the end of it for these two, apparently.
"Patience, babes -- winning, like most of life, is about /perspective/. You know what they get to do now? Like, fight each other. What do we get to do?..." Franklyn grins crookedly and starts patting down her pockets for cigarettes. "...Whatever the fuck we want. Ohmygaaaawd. I want a milkshake. You want a milkshake? Let's go to that burger shack, and get the fuck otta this weird scene." Gold-painted fingers are snapped -- what does Franky think this is, a beatnik poem?
"I intend to play the game through to the end," says Calm, even if her teammates are talking about abandoning her to her fate. She doesn't have much chance of winning without cheating, but she doesn't seem to mind. There aren't exactly high stakes to this game. She watches the two teammates talk about leaving, watching with those nebulae eyes of hers, and then just shrugs. "Even if I have to play alone," she says with some resignation. Perhaps she's used to that. Then she turns back to look for her opponents, who she's inclined to study for a fraction of a second each the moment they come into view.
Aaaaand through many perils, eventually Team Yellow wins, defeating Calm, the sole remaining member of Team Red.
November blows the horn, signaling the end of the game.
HOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRNNN!!
When the horn sounds, Teagan comes jogging out to the middle of the grounds, and pulls their mask off, holding it up to use it to shield their eyes from the light. "I'd sure love to see all those super-secret pictures you got of my face, Miss Amanda Green! You wanna come get a beer with me?" They turn their face toward their teammate, offering, "You too, if you wanna," and the offer appears to be sort of generally extended. Even, sort of awkwardly, toward Calm.
Green doesn't remove her mask. Not yet. Too afraid of getting shot in her pretty, pretty face. But she's smiling. It shows in her eyes. "I think I can... I think we need to talk, anyways. And Count can join us if he'd like?" she offers over to Count. Of course, Green's just not going to look at Calm. Nooope.
|
