The Water Fight Meme

[teenyoda]

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.

Comments

you best believe team stark(ish) is happening

[baseborne]

It's Jon that finds her behind a bush, and he tries not to smile too noticeably at her soaked hair and dress. Arya, he suspects, had much and more to do with the worst of it. Who else could be so cruel to a surrendered foe but an unruly little sister?

He plucks the water gun from her fingers before she can greet him and presses a water balloon there instead. "These 'squirt-guns' are useless, we're not made for such things." He hefts his own water balloon as though to demonstrate their superiority, glancing over the bush they've camped behind. He does smile now, face red from running about and looking none too dry himself, feeling half a boy again (but not in the bad way that such thoughts usually come.) "With these, though..." He draws back, takes aim, and catches some poor combatant square in the back of the head, ducking again as though the bush is some solid place of safety like a well constructed snow-fort might be. "They're like snowballs. I've seen you win a snowball fight."

gosh darnit. i mean. excellent.

[steeledskin]

At first, she gasps. A sudden sharp draw of breath into her lungs when she fears she's been found. But a glance upwards assures her that it's only Jon; a second thunder of her heart reminds her that she is happy to see him. Easily, she surrenders the pistol. And obediently, she takes the balloon.

"Snowballs," she repeats -- chirrups his advice, as if saying it in her own voice makes it more solid. More believable. But then Sansa is passing the balloon from palm to palm and remembering that he isn't wrong. During summer snows, she'd been known to play just as slyly as the rest of them. Today, that girl comes back to life -- if just for an afternoon.

Emulating her half-brother, she peeks over the shrub's edge and -- oh! A target. Her eyes catch Jon's before she dares throw. "Now?" She whispers, asking his permission before she lets loose the water-drops of war.

[baseborne]

Jon nods, more pleased than he can say to see her playing along, to find some of the old light back in her bright Tully eyes. He mouths, "for Winterfell!" the old call that they had for when snowball fights turned into snowball wars in the courtyards, when the children teamed up to bury the unsuspecting members of their father's guard beneath mountains of drifts. It says much that now he's thinking of the tall walls blanketed in shining summer snow, and not the ruined, burnt out husk it must have become.

[steeledskin]

"For Winterfell!" She shouts in glee. And the balloon goes sailing sailing sailing from her hand and plops in a satisfying burst against the shoulder of a man who looked more a steward than a warrior. She'd picked him for that fact: he does not wear a sword and he does not look half-likely to retaliate with violence.

But she still feels a jolt of fear when the victim locks eyes with her. Blood freezes. Her breath stops. "J-Jon," she grabs at his hand. "We have to run."