fandomhigh | Lunch - Thursday 10/11

Andrew grabbed a sandwich and took a seat. He opened a large book on wilderness survival and started to read while eating.

Feeling ignored and remembering class from a few weeks back, John took up a spoonfull of potato salad and sent it flying towards Andrew and his book.

Andrew found that he wasn't nearly as upset about the glob of potato salad that had hit him in the face as he was about the glob of it on the formerly pristine pages of his brand new book.

He attempted to remain calm and wiped it off the best he could with a napkin. Then he looked up to see if he could locate the culprit.

He might see John smiling at him and prepping some cake on his spoon for future launch.

And that's probably bad timing on Jamie's part for flicking a spoonful of potato salad in Andrew's direction.

Andrew was really confused and a little ticked. He picked up the tiny bit of sandwich he had left and hurled it the boy that had just hit him with another spoonful of potato salad. He didn't even the kid's name.

Then he glared at John.

The throwing of food was a bit of a contagious thing, in that being pelted with some only increased one's urge to pelt others as such. However, noticing the target she'd yet to touch, Adah also noticed a book and, while the others had seemed to be unconcerned, she could not find the moral capacity to add to the potential carnage on a poor, innocent book. She narrowed an eye calculatingly for the moment; the boy with the book was safe...for now.

John was really hungry today. And only slightly disappointed that it was ham instead of turkey on the sandwhich he was eating.

Jamie looked around very carefully to see if anyone was watching.

And then flicked a spoonful of potato salad at John's immaculate hair.

John felt something wet sliding down his neck. He reached up to discover he'd been attacked with potato salad.

Thinking the natural suspect was the red slushie guy with a ton of potato salad, he stabbed some cake with his fork and launched the cake at Jamie.

The cake hit Jamie in the head making his hair a cakey mess.

Jamie gave John a look, followed by a nod.

Then heaved some potato salad back at him while ducking down by the table for cover.

This was war. Goopy potato salad in his hair and on his face, John tossed his half-eaten sandwich at Jamie before crouching down to try to avoid return fire.

Jamie was just coming up for air to throw some more potato salad. Just as he released said salad, he had turkey in his face.

John laughed as the sandwich hit its target and ended up with a mouthful of potato salad. At least it tasted good.

He grabbed his glass of water and tried chucking it in Jamie's direction.

Well at least the water washed off some of the sandwich.

Jamie decided that John needed a little more fiber and threw some leafy greens in his direction.

Mmm...fiber!

John didn't bother brushing the bits of leafy greens out of his hair as he was far too focused on creating a tightly packed ball of potato salad and cake. When complete, he threw the ball of food at Jamie, baseball style.

And to Jamie's credit... or detriment... he actually tried to catch the ball o' potato salad.

Only to end up spraying salad all over himself.

Jamie retaliated by throwing cake.

The thing about cake and food fights is the greasyness of the icing. It just doesn't come out of hair well. Explaining why John tried ducking to avoid being hit by more cake.

Unfortunately he failed, and would suffer the consequences of his failure later. He immediately retaliated by tossing a piece of ham he found on the floor at Jamie.

In the process of trying to figure out a better way to fling potato salad because it stuck terribly to her spoon, Adah had discovered her knife and how much easier she could fling it one handed from there.

Of course, she was paying more attention to the technicalities of the event than the results of it, and hadn't paid any attention at all as to where the potatoes might go. Holding in her breath, she was just glad it didn't head toward the boy with the book, and, instead, toward the other one. Books would be a terrible casualty to this sudden war.

The potato salad just seemed drawn to John's hair. He was going to need a shower before his next class.

Noticing the quiet girl in the corner wielding a salad-coated knife, he smiled at her sweetly before lobbing a piece of cake in her direction. Mmm...icing!

And here Adah had a small inkling of hope that no one would suspect the quiet girl in the corner, despite the leaves of lettuce in her own hair. She braced for another impact, easily taking it because she had been deprived of her own cake in an earlier attack. The circulating food, she realized, was almost fascinating. Eventually, at this rate, they'd all end up with what was originally theirs, just in places like hair and shoulders instead of those trays.

That, she figured, was a mental segue if anything to tossing at John the sandwich that Jamie had previously thrown at her. The solid objects were much easier for her to launch with her one workable arm, anyway.

It may have blown her mind to know that John had originally thrown a sandwich at Jamie, not that John was even remotely thinking along those lines. He was more thinking, Attack! and then doing just that.

Meaning, after being smacked with a sandwich, he grabbed some dressing-coated leafy greens and chucked them at her.

It was a bit easier to avoid scattered greens than it was to avoid cake, as Adah made an attempt to duck, slightly to the left, because of her body's natural tilt and the desire to not end up with a face of what was on her tray while dodging other potential mess-creating missiles. A small squeak might have escaped her as there was suddenly dressing against her neck in the very clear indication that she had failed her mission.

John would very shortly thereafter discover some of his cake making an attempt to return to him, from a silently giggling girl with terrible aim getting caught up in the moment.

John grinned at the giggling girl as the cake broke apart on his shoulder. He didn't see the point in avoiding being hit at this stage in the food fight.

He was running out of tossable foods, so John flung the contents of a water glass in the direction of the giggling girl.

Adah's eyes went wide with surprise as she was splashed with the leading end of the trail of water, most of which went splashing to the floor and the table thanks to gravity. She did not recall liquids being an acceptable weapon in this battle! Then again, she didn't exactly recall any agreements to the art of war being discussed at all, so she supposed she couldn't be too bitter about the fact that wet hair threatened to block her field of vision. She toss her head slightly, which ended up being more of a jerk than she intended and, knife back in hand, attempted to flick more potato salad in the direction of the water flinger.

Most of that would probably fall victim to gravity, too.

John chuckled at her reaction to the water. "Head's up!" he called lamely as he found another sandwich and tossed it her direction.

It was only natural, a common connection and reaction of the wires in the human brain, even half of a human brain, that when someone said 'up,' the person looked up. Which, in this case, meant Adah found a sandwich going right into her nose. Well. Thank Dog that it was ham and cheese and not hard salami, right? The sandwich fell, its job done, into her lap as she gingerly rubbed her nose with her left hand, pouting just slightly while convincing herself that there was no rest for the wicked, no sympathy for the devil, and that all was fair in food and war.

She got ready to take the sandwich out of her lap and send it back over to John, hoping that in her moment of respite, she had not opened herself up for another attack.

Being generally nice when not in wartime situations, John paused in his food lobbing when he saw the girl rub her nose after his sandwich made contact. "You okay?" he called, leaving himself quite open to attack.

How convenient that responding with an awkward lobbing of the sandwich back his way worked as both an attack and an answer to his question that, yes, thank you, Adah was quite alright, well enough, in fact, to throw food at you for the trouble of your concern. Here. Eat, drink, and be assaulted.

"I'll take that as a yes," John muttered as he was smacked with a sandwich. He scooped up a healthy amount of potato salad in his hands and formed a fragile projectile. He then aimed and fired it upon the girl.

Adah's attempts to give the boy innocent eyes were foiled by the grin that could simply not be wiped from her face, even as she caved in and ducked, trying to hold up an arm at the graceful arc of potato salad descending upon her. Too much of an attack to fend off with just a mere, bent arm. She was going to be picking food from her hair for hours after this...

There was food she could eat and people to watch, and Adah was, for some reason, already up and about, so she figured she'd grab a tray (the comfort food feel of the putetu seled, deles utetup, had a rather considerable pile, for her, on her plate) and find a seat, and then hunkered down to watch the others quietly behind a slight curtain of long dark hair.

When Jamie thought Adah wasn't looking he sent a bit of his leafy greens from his salad in her direction.

It was amazing, really, how someone could consider herself so terribly observant of the entire world, impervious to surprise, and still have managed to not see that coming. You cannot see the forest for all the trees. She blinked, a leaf of lettuce falling from her hair, brushing across her nose as it settled in her lap, and she looked up to realize that she'd been caught in a bit of a crossfire. Simple mathematics of angle of approach and landing spot had her coolly setting her gaze toward the only place it could have come from. Her hand went to scoop up an unbalanced portion of potato salad. Her first urge was quelled by the concern of so much food going to waste; you didn't spend three years near starvation without considering things like that. However, she then reminded herself that she was in the States again, the land of overindulgence, and half this food would be thrown out and scavenged through by raccoons, anyway, so she lost all moral concern and idly, calmly, tried her best to fling the potatoes off her spoon.

Which didn't work. She needed more trajectory ~~or something~~ with the other hand, which she couldn't get to move.

So she just ended up lobbing her sandwich at the boy.

Jamie seemed to be getting smacked with a lot of lunch meat today.

He grinned at Adah, not even pausing to think of wasted food or starvation in other countries (though raccoons did flash through his mind, WTF?) and launched a sandwich back at Adah.

If one got right down to the fact of the matter, it really wasn't very fair throwing sandwiches at a cripple who wasn't exactly capable of avoiding them, and Adah, knowing herself incapable, bit her lip and braced herself for the impact, although she was able to duck up a shoulder to take the brunt of the force. She contemplated the potatoes again; best way she'd get it over there would be to throw the spoon with it. Somehow feeling that eyes should stay in tact for this battle, and feeling it necessary to have a diverse arsenal, there went Adah's cake, lobbed with as much force as she could manage without falling out of her chair in the process.

The cake hit Jamie square in the chest as he was sitting up to lob potato salad.

"Nice hit!"

It better have been, for the effort that went into it. She quirked an eyebrow, a grin, toward Jamie; her hand took up a small, round tomato from her salad. She took a moment to observe it as if checking for aerodynamic properties before sending a challenging gaze back his way. To throw, or not to throw, that is the question. Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of lunchmeat and vegetables...

While Adah was pondering the philosophy of throwing...

Jamie was throwing.

More potato salad.

Curses. Always the dilemma of the mind that would leave Adah to have potato salad in her hair. She blinked several times before looking to toward the concoction clinging to her mane, and realized that, yes, her mind was made up and she was very glad that she had two small, round tomatoes to attempt to catch up with this as best she could. Unfortunately, she had a feeling she was the one who was going to come out with the most battle scars in this skirmish, but, on the other hand, that meant she'd come out with more food.

One tomato left her hand, there was a little bit of reorientation before the other quickly followed.

Jamie was in the process of loading up his spoon with Potato salad when he was hit in rapid succession with the tomatoes.

Startled he launched his potato salad early and hit himself in the face.

Adah....really had to work at keeping herself from actually laughing outloud at that, her face pink from the effort, and a small snort of a sound still managing to cut through. She was half surprised that such an event happened to him first instead of her, and, oh look! Another tomato, hiding under a leaf of lettuce, now sailing through the air to take advantage of a moment of weakness. Those moments were the ones to use; she had to think like a predator for a change, and a predator had no morality for weaknesses.

Jamie was too busy wiping potato salad from his face to stop the tomato splattering over his chest.

He laughed and threw some leafy greens back at Adah.

Smiling brightly, the greens she could handle easily enough, looking up and blowing up an air to dislodge what looked like a leaf of spinach from the hair in her eyes. With a light chuckle, she was starting to feel that maybe she was running out of new and creative things to attempt to throw. Having three tomatoes hitting a mark was very good for Adah, though, so perhaps she better quit while she was ahead.

Jamie had several dupes go throgh the line so when he finally sat down and got all his dishes together he had one massive helping of potato salad.

And an evil grin on his face.

Lunch - Thursday 10/11

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