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Grim Wolf
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The Very Best
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
[Aight. Toxie, gonna do my own version of a highlight reel. I give you permission to use Alex to do the same. And Prim, if you wanted to edit your last post for your own highlight reel, that's fine by me.]

So they fought.

Alex wasn't wrong; Alex found guns were terribly boring. It all ended so quickly, even by his own rules; one shot and out you went, down until the match resumed.

But fortunately there were many matches.

Paintballs bit into a patch of grass because Alex Tarquin had miscalculated. He was out, but Mike hadn't counted on John getting the jump on both of them. A moment later they were back at it, firing desperately at each other as they wove through the dark, dim shadows outlined by the lights from the road. Mike won that one--the man was surprisingly fast.

But Alex won the next. He dove into the too-tall grass and imagined that he was one of Spielburg's raptors, hunting his prey with a lethal grace. By luck or skill, he caught Mike off-guard as the other boy brushed the grass, burst free and brushed paint across Mike's back. Mike sent up a cloud of curses as Alex disappeared into the grass again, waiting for some sign of Fern. Fern had been drawn out by Mike's curses, however, poking his head around the dilapidated gym; Alex caught a glimpse of him, and pulled the trigger.

An hour and a half, going down the moment the quick sting of the paintball bit into their clothes. Alex played too acrobatically, and he knew it--he showed off too much, spinning, dancing, jumping, rolling, crawling, pretending there was a camera watching him, pretending that there was an audience to entertain. Most of the time it just got him shot.

But it was fun, either way, and by the time he was done he was laughing as he limped back to his car on an ankle he'd twisted during a fanciful jump, relishing his aches and pains.
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V6 Players

Tara Behzad: "They don't get to decide how I die."

Lizzie Luz: "I don't want to go."

Alex Tarquin: "No more masks."

V5 Players

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