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The Preserve, Saturday Evening

The rules had been explained. The supplies had been distributed. The sun was down, the preserve was nice and secluded, the squirrels and other assorted wildlife were armed with tiny helmets and equipment that Topher certainly hadn't ordered, and there was no school board here to disapprove.

Welcome to Paintball 2012.

[[no OCD, but open for joining in/stumbling across the game! equipment and a list of the rules are stationed around, home base is back at Caritas, and that rule about sticking to the preserve is SO getting forgotten in all the chaos. HAVE FUN!]]

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Had they mentioned any rules about things like powers? Because as far as Kitty was concerned, if her natural state was intangible then it was perfectly okay to stay that way if people were going to be shooting at her, even if it was just paint.

And for the moment she was hiding behind a tree, trying to listen if anyone was coming by.

Rilla picked the wrong night to go for a ramble in the park, huh?

Here she came in a pretty white dress, a summer hat, and no freaking clue...

Kitty was maybe a little jumpy, what with the fact that she was playing against people who had their own freaking equipment, so when she heard someone walking by, she did what she thought was the totally right thing in order to win.

She stuck her upper body through the tree to fire off a shot of bright blue paint at poor Rilla before it registered that maybe she was not playing.

Rilla shrieked as she looked down at her dress.

"WHO DID THAT?!"

Oops. Not a player! Kitty ducked back through the tree so she wasn't visible, then called out from behind it, "Sorry!"

"YOU'D BETTER BE!" Rilla said, stomping her foot. "What are you doing?"

"Playing paintball!" she called, not wanting to put herself out into the open where others might get to her. "There are others in the preserve like me!"

Nice and dramatic with that last bit, Kitty.

"DON'T LET THEM HIT ME," Rilla flailed.

Because she was super stealthy with the being so insanely loud right now.

"Then be quiet!" Kitty hissed. "And maybe get back into town. It should be fine there."

Because she hadn't realized yet that it wasn't.

"Fine," Rilla said huffily, stomping off toward the safety of Stark Industries.

Whoops.

Oh, yes, here was another person taking advantage of there not being rules against the use of powers. Simon was stalking around the preserve, invisible.

While nothing about his movements, per se, made any sound (his power was weird like that), the branches and whatnot under his feet still cracked. That was the only thing signaling he was there.

And he was keeping a keen eye on his surroundings, ready to shoot at the first sign of anyone. Or so he thought, anyway.

[Simon and his gear are invisible, but still able to get hit, omg!]

Wesley... had neglected to consider the fact that this game was taking place in a place where the ground had a lot of stuff on it. And wheeling around over twigs and branches was not really conducive to stealth (nor to the long-term functioning of his wheelchair). So that was out.

However, dating a girl who liked to hunt meant that Wesley had actually spent quite a bit of time in the preserve, and knew it fairly well. And he happened to know of a particular location with a dirt path that was relatively free of obstacles on the ground, in part because he'd trampled over them enough times that there wasn't much left by now. So he headed for there and lurked in the bushes, gun poised and ready to strike.

Seriously, it was really unfair that a trained sharpshooter like himself was even allowed to participate.

Wesley, while not an expert in the art of stealth, had taken enough lessons in hunting from his girlfriend to know the sure signs of someone lurking. Cracking branches? Totally a sign.

So he didn't hesitate, and that would be a bright yellow paintball heading Simon's way.

And that was Simon hitting the ground at the very last second, trying to shoot at Wesley while he went. It was too flaily to have a hope in hell of hitting its target, but maybe it'd at least be a little unsettling to see a paintball appearing out of thin air?

Also it was pretty easy to tell where Simon had landed, even though he did his best to try and scramble up again immediately

Well, a little unsettling. But more than that, it was rather telling. Because yes, it did provide a rather solid clue as to where Simon had landed.

The trick was getting the appropriate angle to reach him over there, which was rather difficult when Wesley ran the risk of wheeling over twigs on the way. But time was of the essence, since, invisible as Simon was, he could move at any minute without Wesley being any the wiser -- so, careful preparation be damned, he aimed a slightly sloppy, not-at-all-worthy-of-Watcher-training shot in Simon's direction, and then another three for good measure.

Edited 2012-04-21 21:43 (UTC)

Well, if he saw Kitty trying to skulk around the trees on the lookout for people, she wasn't thinking to look in the bushes at all to spot him first.

Of course, she was phasing, but details.

Wesley was going to feel really silly when he learned about the phasing. Because right now he was just going to shoot and think he had this in the bag.

Oops?

Simon did his very best to roll away. Alas, it was that last shot that got him, and he reverted back to visibility when it hit. First there was nothing there, and then it was like the air rippled and Simon appeared on the ground, a splash of paint on his side.

Well, that was that.

Victory!

Well, victory until the twinges of guilt started to set in.

"Er," Wesley called from his hiding place, feeling a little sheepish. "I'm sorry!"

"It's a game," Simon called back, getting up and dusting himself off. "This is how it goes."

Kitty didn't feel the paintball pass through her, of course, but she did notice that it had, splattering against a tree instead of her.

"Hey!" she said, like it was totally uncalled for for her to get shot at here, and fired off into the bushes, despite not being able to see where he was.

In his haste to scramble out of the way, Wesley managed to make a great deal of noise and bump into not one but two trees, muttering curses under his breath the entire time. But when Kitty's firing stopped, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Until he glanced down and noticed for the first time in all the commotion that she'd gotten him in the knee.

"Oh, blast."

"Sorry!" she called when she heard that, ducking back behind a tree just in case.

They were having the politest game ever.

Poor, silly Tara. She hadn't paid much attention to the paintball announcement, but this was exactly the right stage of the moon for gathering flowering plants from the preserve.

Once she stumbled across a list of rules and some gear, she couldn't see much reason not to at least arm up -- even though she didn't intend to shoot at anybody, at least not with severe provocation.

So here she was, tiptoing along a path and watching the bushes nervously for any movement.

[OOC: Fire at will.]

Anakin had used his ~~totally cheating Force-ness~~ his innate skill in sneaking to get himself up into a tree unnoticed.

Well, other than for the armed squirrels who'd been up there first, but they'd learned their lessons, oh yes.

Muahahahaha, etc.

He wrapped himself in his cloak, put his gun up into a nearby branch, and waited to prey on the unwary.

For their own good, really.

Edited 2012-04-22 01:41 (UTC)

There wouldn't have been much movement because Anakin was ~~crazy scary~~ pretty good at paintball (you had to be when you played with Aeryn Sun).

Red paint aimed at center mass coming at you, Tara!

Tara saw the paint flying just a second before it hit her. She waved her hand to try to telekinetically deflect it, but her aim wasn't much good at such close range -- all she succeeded in doing was spreading the paint over more of her torso before it hit.

"I think I'm dead," she called out. "Uh .... congratulations?"

"Thanks!" Anakin called back. "You were pretty sneaky, though. Good job."

Tara was initially surprised to recognize the voice, but ultimately smiled. Teachers needed fun too.

"Not good enough," she decided. "But I didn't really prepare, so ... guess it's not a surprise."

"We have a few people who are more used to this sort of situation than others," Anakin said with a chuckle.

"I g-guess I'm not as up on paintball as I could be," Tara grinned back. "Good luck! I won't tell anybody where I saw you. Dead girls tell no tales, all of that."

Ben had been taking care of business closer to Stark's but he'd kept an eye on his grandfather's Force presence.

After hitting the woman by the apartment building clear across the park, he was feeling better about his chances.

He focused his sights on his grandfather's hair, and took several deep breaths.

Kriffing hells, I'm going to shoot Anakin Skywalker. Please have a sense of humor, please have a sense of humor, please have a sense of humor--

He fired his weapon.

The paintball caught Anakin square between the eyes and he sputtered and looked around, trying to spot the perpetrator.

Ben sent him a slightly smug pulse through the Force.

"Oh, you little--" Anakin muttered as he climbed out of the tree.

Bested by a grandchild. He'd never hear the end of it.

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The Preserve, Saturday Evening

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