fairynuff | The Water Fight Meme

The Water Fight Meme

THE WATER FIGHT MEME

It's summer. It's fairy world. It's hot. No matter what world you're from, what court you're from, you need to cool down. The King and Queen of both courts have agreed to a truce and members of both courts, no matter where they previously were, will find themselves in a clearing in the middle of an unknown forest. There is a dais up that is warded that both sets of monarchs sit upon and a herald is brought forth to announce the terms:

• Both courts will have ample supplies of both water balloons and water pistols.
• There will be 'stations' where one can refill their supplies.
• As tech does not work here, supplies will have to be refilled magically.
• Reach a station and say aquius to refill your water guns and aquius arcus to get a refurbished supply of water balloons.
• There is no reward or punishment for participating or not participating other than the fun involved in a water fight.
• Participants are welcome to go after their opposing courts or members of their own courts.
• Teams can consist of any/all court members.
• The fight will last until dusk, when all parties will be allowed a short feast before being returned to their previous positions in the world.

That's it. Those are the rules. Make a top level comment and state whether you'd like to play one on one or in a team. Or both. Enjoy your day of rest, Drabwurld.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Yes, Stiles is there also, refilling a super soaker with a hastily muttered aquius. He looks up when he sees Alayne, grinning like a madman.]

This almost makes up for the whole kidnapping thing. Endless water supply and balloons and soakers?

[He looked at her gun, then down at his. Then back at hers.]

You should really upgrade if you're planning on taking out people today.

I'm only aiming to defend myself -- [ she speaks slowly. clearly. and only after the initial surprise of turning her head and seeing him there. sansa pops the tab back into place and gives the pistol a nervous shake. ]

That's not how you water fight, Alayne. Here, have some balloons.

[Aquius arcus was uttered and balloons appeared on the ground by his feet. He bent to pick some up and handed them over to her.]

Throw them at people. It's just water. It can't actually hurt anyone. It's hot. This is a great way to just... relax and cool down while having fun.

[ with care, she lifts the first balloon out of stiles's hand and juggles its plump shape in her palm. testing its weight; trying to imagine herself hurling it across a field.

sansa shakes her head. ] A lovely thought. But I don't believe I need to relax--

[ she says, being possibly the most bestest candidate for a need-to-relax label in the whole damn place. ]

[Stiles fixed her with a look.]

Um, yes. Yes you do. Come on, throw it. Just... aim for that tree over there.

[He pointed at a tree not too far off and lobbed a balloon of his own at it. It burst in a spray of water and he did a victory fist-pump.]

[ she looks at stiles. and then to the tree. and once again to stiles.

her shoulders lift. wordlessly, sansa offers him her pistol for safe-keeping. ]

[He takes the pistol, waiting for her back to turn, then fires it at her, looking completely innocent as he does.]

[ and she takes her task so seriously! with a drawn expression, she turns to the tree. she lifts her arm...! and (after a moment and after stiles's actions resolve themselves in her understanding) she shrieks, twisting suddenly back to face him. water -- unnaturally cold due to its magical source -- drips down the collar of her stiff dress. ] Y-you...!

[ for a moment she looks hurt. as if she had only anticipated that stiles could be her ally, and not an impish traitor. but with the balloon in hand, she feels a stirring of her old life upon her: of snowball fights in winterfell's great shadow.

and so as easily as she might have thrown a ball of snow at arya, she hurls the light pink water-balloon. for the barest moment, a flicker of genuine effort and competition appears in her expression. give her three seconds and she'll be inconsolably apologetic -- but for now? she tries to hit him. ]

[He doesn't make much of an effort to move, wanting a little cool down and hoping that a little fun is exactly what the doctor ordered for her. It hits him in the chest, exploding and spraying water over his face and shoulders. He laughs and hefts her pistol, then a balloon.]

Nice shot. Now, the question is, should I give you back your itty bitty gun to try to get even... or just douse you?

[So many choices....]

[ her shoulders settle. and in a smooth snap, her body fits back into its customary rigidity. back straight; hands folded at her waist. ] You will be courteous, of course -- [ she speaks with only the barest barely-there glimmer of challenge. fun and fear are at war in her heart, and it makes for a strange mixture of signals. ]

Oh, will I?

[He's smiling, grinning like the imp he is before he nods and hands her back her pistol. And the balloon. He had his super soaker, after all. She had no chance.]

Come on, Alayne. Take your best shot.

[ she watches the water drip: her work! she did that. it's a strange sensation to have been the cause of something. the active, intentional cause. sansa slips a finger 'round the pistol's trigger -- an awkward construction, honestly. like a dainty little crossbow that shot water. ]

I'm only a girl -- [ she simpers, knowing that stiles cares little for her only a girl arguments but she tries it all the same. ] You must give me a head start. You will have to count to ten.

[ you know. after she shoots him. it's totally fair. ]

[He rolls his eyes, but he's still grinning.]

Five. I'll count to five. But you'd better hustle. I want to see some running, oh redheaded one.

Count slowly! [ she commands -- and she must be feeling a rare brave mood to command anything at all. sansa lifts the pistol and shoots a steady torrent of water at stiles's face. she misses -- of course. she hesitates, but the second shot is better aimed.

it takes her a moment to realize before she's cradling the water balloon in the crook of her arm and gathering her skirts up in fistfuls so she might run into the trees without tripping over petticoats. ]

[He spits the water out of his mouth, looking at her blandly before calling out:]

One.

[He pumps his gun up, giving her a head nod telling her to book it.]

Two.

Slower than that!

[ she throws a follow-up order over her shoulder, but she's running. she has not run like this since she and dontos had fled the city. but life and death do not hang in this balance: merely dignity and fun. how undignified it must be to be soaked with water -- and yet she cannot quite shake the look of water dripping off the end of stiles's nose.

sansa throws herself bodily behind the wide trunk of a tree and stops -- panting -- to hide. ]

Three.

Four...

Five!

[He headed off after her, smirking as he tried to remember which tree she'd hidden behind.]

You're going to have to pay for that, you know. I'm not the only one who's going to be walking out of this soaked, Alayne.

[ she does not speak: to speak would be to give away the game; the hiding place; the salvation. and so her mind toes this dangerous line between game and battle. he tells her she will have to pay for her actions -- and inwardly, she shrinks. she wants to run. but a quiet mantra keeps her back pressed tight against the hard bark -- stiles is my friend he does not want to hurt me we are having fun.

she exhales and palms the rubbery balloon. just like a snowball, she reminds herself. just like playing games outside winterfell.

sansa waits. ]

[He knew she was around here somewhere. Close. Behind that tree, maybe? Or maybe that one. He squirted one of them, just to see what would happen, poking around another and calling softly.]

Alayyyyyyne.... Come out, come out, wherever you are. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to make sure you're soaked from head to foot.

[ because that isn't halfway to horrifying. no siree.

sansa shimmies her way 'round the tree-trunk until she has (in effect) slid further out of sight. but she is no master of stealth -- nor really a master of any mechanic advantageous to this game. and so she may be seen as she tries to come up behind him unaware.

or else she won't be seen at all and might yet manage to drop a whole balloon on his head. ]

[The water dousing him gets a gasp from him, but he's whipping around and spraying, mouth open and a war cry coming out as he aims at the blurry image of the redhead through the water in his eyes.]

You cheap little... It's on, woman!

[ her feet seem to freeze in place. stiles or not, the phrase cows her: you cheap little... an over-active imagination fills in the blanks with all the terrible things she's heard. and even if she'd run, she wouldn't have outpaced the sudden onslaught of water.

paradoxically, it is his attack that draws her back to lucidity. the joy and playfulness of the sudden spray of water from the better gun sends a shock through her system. again, she shrieks. and she paws on her eyes, wiping water away. at some point, she'd dropped her pistol in surprise. ]

No fair -- I'd gotten you! [ she protests with an exhausted laugh. ]

[He shrugged, face in a look of utter smugness at getting her so well.]

You did. And now I got you back. Not like it actually drops me where I stand.

[Squirt.]

Aww... look at that. You're getting all wet.

[Squirt.]

Aww, now you're even more wet. Gosh, someone should really help you out, here.

[Squirt.]

Look at that. My finger slipped.

[ she sputters. she shook her head and took a single step to left, as if that would ever be enough to avoid these little attacks. but there, at the hem of her dress, her slipper'd toe touched the fallen pistol. she knows where it is. ]

Have you no honour? Will you not take an enemy's surrender? I ask for a truce--

A truce? What sort of truce? The kind where you wait until I'm not looking and douse me again?

[Squirt.]

I could maybe be talked into something like that. Maybe.

[Water dripped down from his hair, beading along his skin until a drop dangled off his nose, then fell.]

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