fandomhigh | Summer Games, Wednesday Morning

Today the park was set up with the normal bleachers for observers, and also thoughtfully provided cheap plastic rain ponchos for people who wished to observe without being in the blast zone. There didn't seem to be a single adult manning any of the food stations, which could explain the choices: heavy on super spicy junk food and no salad to be seen anywhere.

The most noticeable difference from last week, though, was probably the weedy teenager with the, frankly, hilarious haircut wielding the megaphone today. He had a little ponytail and a braid looping down over his right ear. It was a lot of look. "Right!" he yelled. "So I woke up today with this set of instructions next to my bed: apparently I'm in charge of doing paintball today, which sounds surprisgly not-stupid for a school event! We're going to be in two teams, so listen for your name since I don't recognize...most of them."

He shrugged that off. Must be another weird Fandom amnesia day or something. And paintball was way more important than giant gaps in his memory, right? "Okay, this is Team Red: you wear the ugly red jumpsuits over there--" he pointed helpfully, "--and your paintball guns and don't forget your eye protection and blah blah don't poke your eyes out, etc. Team members are: Ahsoka, Verity, Kaidan, Miguel, Paris, Aloy, Vanessa, Peter, Jaylah, Peridot, Tip. Alec, Amaya, Steve, Cara, Seivarden, Tony, Sabine, Jason, Summer, and Theron."

He waited for those team members to get moving. "Okay. Team Blue is: Aphra, Astrid, Rosa, Jaina, Kanan, Eliot, Beaker, Liam, Hannibal, Manfred, Hera, Kathy, Sidon, Magnus, Uma, Cristina, Breq, Bobby, Wade, Reno, and me." He consulted his paper again, then made a face. "Okay, we were supposed to just stay in the park, but that sounds incredibly boring, so I'm going to give us five minutes to make a quick plan with our team and then say that the entire island is fair game for as long as it takes one team to take out the other team."

Complete anniliation. Surely that boded well for his future life choices! "Last man, woman, or--" his eyes drifted to Beaker, confused, "--other...standing wins for their team and gets to take home the--" he squinted at the paper again. "Terrifying fish thing?"

On cue, the fish flew into his hand. Over the past week, it had been modified again: now to smell like pumpkin spice, put off small fireworks and holographic projections of flowers with smiley faces as it flew, and telepathically project "The Song That Never Ends" into the minds of anyone too close to it.

Anakin hated this thing on sight.

"For the first time in my life, I'm considering losing," he said, staring at the fish. "Anyway! Teams, get together and plan! You have five minutes and...go!"

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"Relax, Princess Sparkle," Cristina said. "They just shoot paint."

"Can it, Captain Buzzkill," Rosa said, sliding a gaze over, "unless you wanna get shot first."

"Sure, that'd be a great plan. Start off by offing your own teammate."

Cristina was going to be a particularly useless teammate, so it wasn't actually a terrible idea, strategy-wise.

Which, really, was exactly what Rosa was thinking. She shrugged one shoulder, quirked a brow.

"More like clearing out the weeds," she said. "Take care of the losers who are just going to get in my way."

"Oh no. I might stand in the way of you winning that ugly fish thing. How dare I."

And that earned Captain Buzzkill about two seconds of an are you kidding me? look to maybe prevent this fate before Rosa just lifted her gun at her and pulled the trigger.

Well fine! If Princess Sparkle wanted to be that way, Cristina was just going to shoot her right back.

That rainbow paint was totally messing up her whole "black and grey" ~~edgelord~~ new wave look. Apparently this was why they were supposed to be wearing jumpsuits.

And Rosa tried to dodge it, she really did, but, alas, her inexplicable ninja skills had yet to develop into the fine art that they were usually, and she still managed to get a nice burst of paint on her shoulder.

On her new leather jacket, too!

Well, new to her (she thought). She just found it in the closet of the new place and took it, figuring no one would miss it because there were practically a hundred of them.

"Damn it!" she said. "The good part hasn't even started yet!"

But if she was already going to be out (though she was definitely going to try to not be, until they dragged her kicking and screaming off the battlefield), she might as well get in a few more good shots, just point blank unleashing a few more good shots at Buzzkill Extreme over here.

Yeah, how's that for your whole ensemble, you nerd.

She wasn't a nerd, she was New Wave!

"Then stop shooting me, idiot!" Cristina said, and emptied her clip right back at Princess Sparkle.

This was the future of cardiothoracic medicine. Right here.

Since she'd already been shot, Rosa took that next volley like a champ, laughing as each one landed.

"Yeah, right," she said, "don't wanna keep wasting my ammo."

She took off after that, loading in some more paintballs as she moved passed Captain Buzzkill onto greener pastures.

Making sure to turn around just enough to shoot Buzzkill right in the butt before she got too far.

And NYPD's future brightest and best. She was even decorated, ladies and gents.

"Ugh! Whatever, you dork!" Cristina yelled after her. "Who even has pink hair?!"

She went to get her jumpsuit on and restock on ammo. And then get herself a damn cup of coffee because all these losers were bringing her down.

"People cooler than you'll ever be, that's who!" Rosa called back, because of course she had to get one more dig in there, cackling gleefully as she stuck out her tongue and flipped Captain Buzzkill the bird.

And, hey, Captain Buzzkill was actually getting off easy. Usually, Rosa just beat people up.

Cristina snorted. "More like people who try too hard."

Because apparently nothing could stop these two from bickering.

(No one ask her how long it took her to do that winged eyeliner look in the mornings. . . .)

Summer Games, Wednesday Morning

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