insertmeathere | (no subject)

Current Music: Psychonauts Title Theme

(no subject)

You find yourself in a place.

This place, in fact, is somehow, inexplicably, a reflection of your own mind.

There are a few doors scattered around. They don't belong—they are styled to belong to other places. Stepping through the doors lets you visit the places like this that belong to the people you know.

What do you do?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

'Fairly uninteresting' can lead to interesting things, sometimes, and that's really why Wyn chooses to open this particular door. She is a bit disappointed, however, when the door only leads to a mountain and some woods. She's a city girl at heart, though, and her experience in the wilderness is practically nonexistent.

The path, however, she can and does follow.

The birds are silent, and nothing seems to be moving. The wildlife is hiding. Why?

Suddenly, something happens. Out of seemingly nowhere on the left, a small paint explosion occurs, showering everything for a good few feet with blue.

"Dammit!" someone grumbles, then the same young male voice yells, "DEAD!"

He was hiding pretty well in the trees, but whoever hid the paint mine did him one better.

If Wyn looks, she'll find a tall kid with blond hair and green eyes lying on his back, spattered with blue paint with his arms folded across his chest and a paint rifle held loosely in his hand.

The paintsplosion takes Wyn completely by surprise, and she glares irritably out into the woods as she wipes spatters of paint off of her face. "Not playing!" she calls, touching the top of her head delicately and sighing as he hand comes away tacky with paint.

The kid notices her, hesitates for a split second, then breaks out of the "dead" position and climbs to his feet. He's pointing his gun at her more by reflex than anything, not that it would do more than sting and make a mess.

"What are you doing here?"

He's surprised. On further inspection, this is not your average kid. There's youth to him, but it's mostly in his face. He has more muscle than even an active kid his age should, like he's been training for it or using it. There's a wary, intelligent steeliness to his gaze though it falters somewhat at Wyn. She doesn't look like a threat.

Wyn's not much of a threat, unless the kid in front of her decides to break out the combat sorcery-- which she doubts he will, given the paintball gun. He's bigger than Wyn expected, too, both in height and in muscle mass.

"Walking. Getting killed by shrapnel in a paint war, apparently." she says with a shrug. She's not bothered by the paintball gun being pointed at her, although she might have to do something drastic if her shirt gets any more paint on it.

"...Someone opened the door, right?"

He figures it out. He's a mind-figment, he knows what's going on!

"Hey! Sam! You're dead, get d-"

The other boy stops and looks at Wyn. "Who are you?"

"That would have been me." Wyn says matter-of-factly. The new kid (also armed with a paintball gun, also appearing out of nowhere) gets a tight-lipped smile and a wave. "Hi."

"She came through the door, Anton. Go get Chief," Sam, the first, says.

Anton nods once, and he's already gone. Spartan kids are fast.

"Do you know Chief?" Sam asks Wyn. Well, why not?

"I know of him, I guess is how you'd put it. We haven't really met, though." Wyn says after a moment, trying to think of the most diplomatic way of saying 'I play video games in which he is the main character and we've also both been kidnapped by an organic spaceship'.

Sam nods. "Alright, you should be okay then."

He... lies back down on the ground in the same position. "Anton's going to get him. For now? I'm dead. Grace got me fair and square."

"Right then. Sorry to interrupt." Wyn says, leaning back against an oak tree.

"Do you mind if I..." she asks after a moment, gesturing towards the paintball gun. It would be a good idea for Sam to say no if he likes the idea of his paintball gun remaining in one piece.

Sam casts a glance down at the gun. "Other team's gotta claim it," he says. "Anton probably will when he gets back, if Grace doesn't come to check the mine first-"

Rustle rustle rustle...

Speak of the devil!

The new Spartan notices Wyn and pauses. They all seem to have that reaction.

"She knows Chief," says Sam. "Game's still on."

"Alright."

"Good job with the mine."

Grace nods and goes to collect Sam's rifle. It's the ultimate "You're out of the game", apparently.

Oh, look. Another new person appearing out of nowhere and staring at Wyn. (She's starting to get sick of that reaction, to be honest.) "Hi." she says, looking up and lifting a hand in greeting to the new girl, then immediately returns to picking specks of dried paint off of her sleeve.

"Hi," says Grace. She seems to be a quiet one and more awkward than Sam.

Something hits her in the back at high velocity. Something small and paintball-like because... yeah, there's a splash of red paint.

Sam bites his lip.

Grace shouts "DEAD!" and assumes the position of, well, death. Sniped!

"Linda?" she asks Sam.

"Yep."

Grace makes a pfff noise. Sam just continues to try not to laugh.

Sam looks over at Wyn. "Our sniper," he says, trying to keep his voice down now. No need to give the other team intel!

"Ah." Wyn says, giving 'dead' Sam a quick grin. At least he's bothering to explain things to her, which is nice. She was prepared for the awkward silence to continue for at least five more minutes. "Does the other team have a sniper, or do they just get mines?"

"We can all snipe, but Linda's best at it. Grace's good with explosives," Sam continues, though hushed. Oh hell, he's decided. If anyone hears him, it doesn't matter. He's dead and they already know all of this stuff anyway. Grace kind of eyes him, disagreeing but not saying anything.

Oh. Hello there Chief.

"Callahan?" Chief, you see, has memorized the crew roster.

And he's here now. He's awfully quiet for being seven feet tall and weighing half a ton. Anton's visible for a moment, having lead him up here, but the young Spartan immediately ghosts off into the trees to continue the game.

Sam shoots the Chief a slightly curious look, but gets no response. Grace watches patiently.

"Hi, Chief!" Awkward smile is awkward, and so is the tiny wave she gives the Spartan.

He nods in acknowledgment, then eyes Sam. "As you were, Spartan."

"Sir," Sam replies.

"Follow me," the Chief says to Wyn. "I can get you back to the center where you can get out of here." He'll wait until she moves, then lead the way.

'Good luck', Sam mouths behind his back.

'You too' Wyn mouths back as she quickly gets out of the Chief's way. She feels uncomfortably like a child who's been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only