daybreakacademy | PAINTBALL TIME

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PAINTBALL TIME - OPEN

Who: Moriarty, associated faculty, and whoever ends up getting dragged in
What: It's time for a good old-fashioned faculty paintball competition! ...Which may or may not also have organized bets behind it. This is what you get when Moriarty's running something.
Where: The Mythril Cage
When: Sept 28th!
Warnings: PAINTBALL VIOLENCE.

[There had been an email sent out to the faculty about a week prior - a short affair mentioning that a paintball competition between staff will be held on saturday in the cage, and that all equipment needed will be provided, unless competitors wanted to bring their own. There's also a note about being able to allow students on the teams, but only a very limited number in order to just fill gaps on teams. And, of course, there would be refreshments provided for both participants and the audience.

It hadn't really had any indication of who was running it, but it did seem very professional...

...And it wasn't like Moriarty was any stranger to organizing things.

But perhaps the staff might not like the...surprises he had in store.

And as for his students, he would have told them to come down and check out the match on saturday, provided they had no other engagements, promising that it would be very...interesting, to say the least.

...And considering he's a math professor, that's a good portion of the student body that got told.]

1 - Before the fight

[Anyone who comes down to the cage will note that the area has been changed into a perfect paintball arena, netting surrounding the top and sides to protect the spectators from any stray paintballs sent their way. The astroturf that's been set down looks secure, but Moriarty is actively shooing away anyone who tries to step onto the 'court', so to speak.]

If you must scope it out, do so from the outside! No one's allowed on until the game begins!

[There's all kinds of equipment for the various teams - four different color coded teams, so to speak, with Red, Blue, Green, and Yellow - there are also assorted corners of the arena that correlate to those colors, which is apparently where they'll come from. The most interesting thing, though, is that all the equipment is brand new - and top of the line, besides.

Finally, there's a Desk - which looks like it's being set up for something else - with signups for the four teams, and a paper detailing the Rules they'll be using - a standard Scenario set, with it being a battle royale with all four teams, and the last team standing wins.

Moriarty is standing around, ready to field any questions. Of course, you could also go make teams with everyone else, or just grab a snack from the food set out (a wide variety of meats, good bread and chocolate and tea, along with popcorn) and find a good place to watch the action, or speculate on how the hell a math professor financed all of this. It's up to you, really.]

2-A - Let's PAINTBALL

[Once the time for the game to start comes by, Moriarty takes the sheets and sends people off to their requisite teams, pointing them to the 'starting points' of each area. Once on the field, they'll more easily notice the faint 'color' on the battlefield's floor, marking the 'area' each team has to themselves.

Clearing his throat, Moriarty claps his hands together.]

Well then! I believe it's time to begin, though just in case no one read the rules - I'll quickly go over them, hm?

First off, this is a scenario-type game: a team game, where you must defeat the other teams! The last team standing at the end is the winner! The winning team will get the adoration of the masses, of course, and a special prize!

The standard rules apply - No Removing your mask while you're on the field, No wiping off any Hits, no shooting at players once they've been removed from play, and no physical contact with other competitors! Cheaters will be immediately removed from play.

[There's a pause, before he grins.]

Of course, that is only if they get caught.

Ahem. In addition, there are a few extra rules regarding hits. A hit to the head is an instant removal from play! However, you may take up to three hits anywhere else on your body before you are removed from play. As said before, cheaters to this will be removed from play.

Finally, if by the end of two hours, no team is the clear winner...then the game will be considered a draw. This also goes for the unlikely case that all teams are taken out at the same time.

...Got it? Good! I've prattled on for far too long, and I'm sure you're itching to get started! So, without further ado....

....Begin!

[And with a bang from a noise-maker, the game officially begins. Have fun!]

2-B OH GOD THERE'S TRAPS EVERYWHERE

[For the first 10 to 15 minutes, there's just the blissful sounds of paintball fighting. Nothing else in the world could be nicer, or more fun.

That is, until Moriarty - now seated at that desk of his, looking all the world like a mastermind watching his pawns move before him - suddenly calls out to the battlefield:]

By the way! The Traps I planted on the field are now active! Keep an eye out, won't you?

[And he's not lying - as if they were all on an electric timer (which, tbh, they were), traps begin to pop out on every side of the battlefield. They're difficult to spot, and there's all types - Some that suddenly trap a foot in a sticky substance, or trip someone who's running full tilt. However, there are much more offensive ones, each that will spit out the color of the 'area' that they happen to be on. Tripwire paintball traps, motion sensitive turrets, even paintball mines and claymores that make walking and running a terrifying prospect.

If the teams run in without thinking, the battlefield will quickly devolve into chaos and destruction...but a clever player could easily use these traps to their advantage.]

3 - Meanwhile, on the stands

[But for the spectators, there doesn't seem to be much to do...that is, until Moriarty suddenly motions all of them over...and pulls out a lockbox and multiple prepared pieces of paper, which have the general odds of each team winning, and statistics about each team on them.

Moriarty himself takes out a notebook with a flourish, giving a bright grin to his audience.]

And now that the game has truly begun....Shall we make a bet on the winners? Hm? Standard rates, and I will be your bookie, of course. The numbers there also reflect on payout!

[And he'll take money from anyone, young or old - though it can be noticed that he's trying to do a point spread, if anyone knows anything about betting. Someone could potentially call him out on it...]

[Regardless, the day is sure to be entertaining, even if you're only watching.

...Though maybe they'll think twice about letting Moriarty handle things like this, next time.]

((OOC: this is technically a big ol' open post, so feel free to put up top headers and have other people reply to your own personal prompts!))

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One

[Paintball? Teachers fighting each other? Oh hell yeah, this is something she needs to check out without literally anything else to do. And trying her best to not look an absolute mess (and failing), just ignore the red tint to her eyes and her looking absolutely exhausted. It's fine, really.

Let's also just not talk about her choice in outfits today, either. But her hair's down and she's just huffing softly as she's finding something to lean up against.]

This better not be a waste of my fuckin' time, could be doing something useful...

Three

[Of course she's standing nearby Moriarty's ridiculous desk if she can, mostly to avoid nearly everyone else and see if maybe this gives her a better vantage point. Girl's tall, but not that tall, after all.

Though she's squinting slowly as she hears betting, good lord.]

What's the odds right now? [She may not be really well versed in gambling, but she might be able to find a point spread if given enough time to look at that sheet. Better not let her do that, oops.]

I mean, is seeing some of the teachers get their butts kicked at something relatively harmless really that much of a waste of time?

[... Lia could stand to be less cheerful about that as she starts helping herself to the food.]

Especially if there's anyone you really don't like.

[Oh boy, do the cheery types ever get under her skin far easier than normal lately. Deep breaths, keep calm, right. She's shrugging slowly and keeping a close eye on her, for no particular reason.]

When I could be working on my project instead? Yeah, possibly. [Not that it'll get done before winter comes, but that's totally beside the point right now.]

Mm. Don't like pretty much any of them, honestly. So can't say that I want anyone to win... [Stop.]

Ahhh, fair enough.

[She takes a bite of some of the bread she's picked up, thinking over what to say while chewing.]

I'm not exactly cheering anyone on myself, really. I just don't want to miss if anything funny happens.

[You know, that's honestly fair enough and she's humming a bit to herself as she lets her gaze linger on the playing field again.]

I'm sure someone would record it and post it on the network somewhere, but you're not wrong. Someone's gonna get shot in the ass, just you watch.

Oh, absolutely, but there's something about being there, you know? [She snickers at the second part.] But that's absolutely gonna happen, and I hope I have a good seat to see it.

[She can't help a grin of her own, slowly stretching her arms over her head to get out a bit of an issue starting in her shoulder.]

Man, I've been shot with paintballs before, that's gonna leave a hell of a welt after all's said and done. Fat and those things don't mix real well in the slightest. Poor bastards, dunno if any of them realize that.

Hm? Well, it's on the paper, there! I shouldn't have to spell it out to -

[There's a pause, as he takes her in. his eyes not missing any of the details.]

...It looks as if you had a hard night last night.

[Gently, quietly - not trying to draw other's attentions to it, but letting her know he sees.]

[The moment he's pausing is the moment there's a warning bell going off in her head and she's turning away from him, but not quick enough to not be noticed. God dammit.

She's letting out a soft hiss and trying to calm herself down to look at that paper again, thanks.]

Yeah, well, tell me something I don't fucking know. I'm fine. [She's not, but she can sure as shit pretend it's nothing to worry about.]

Somehow I feel you're going to try and screw us.

...Well, I won't pry. But do know that my door is always open, should you need help in anything.

[And he'll leave it at that - he knows a raw nerve when he sees one.

At her comment, he laughs.]

Me? Why, I would never!

Thanks... [It's barely a murmur, but it should get her point across enough.

And luckily he's giving her something else to focus on and roll her eyes at.]

Mhmm, sure. Totally not sketch at all that the person making the playing field is also being the bookie. I might look dumb, but I'm not that dumb.

[A single nod is all she gets in reply to the thanks, as the conversation picks up elsewhere.]

Well, perhaps this will be a lesson to those who can't suss that fact out.

[It's said quietly, but with a furious grin.

Yep.

This is also a lesson.]

[Moriarty, you absolute bastard.

She's hiding a bit of a grin of her own, of course that would have been the correct manner to this whole mess. How many people are going to be dumb enough to actually bet on losing odds, she wonders.]

I guess carry on, then~ I'll just watch from the sidelines, you know?

...I wouldn't.

[That wasn't her question, but he likes Jolyne well enough to murmur a warning as he returns the paper with the odds to the desk. While not a gambler by nature himself, he's spent enough time listening in on them--and on the unsavory bookies who serve them--to see what's happening.]

Especially when the guy keeping the books also set up the field of play.

[For a brief moment she's humming at those words and eyeing the paper a bit herself, she wasn't really going to put much, if anything, down in the first place. But she's glad someone else is seeing how absolutely shit of an idea this is and it being shady as all hell.]

That's what I was thinking, seems a little convenient and sketchy, don't it? Not that I have much money to work with right now, anyway. [Just what she gets for being here to get new pieces of wardrobe or other little things she might want. Back to fucking allowances, really.]

[He sighs quietly.]

The curse of a student budget. Not that we need a lot of cash to get by here, but I'm used to having more play on my financial rope.

[Filching wallets when he needs a quick buck (a quick euro?) is all well and good, but it doesn't exactly put him in his favored income bracket.]

Kind of annoying to see them splurge so much on one day of fancy paintball--when we don't even get to play.

Oh, the college didn't pay for this. I did.

[Just casually interject, as you do - he was silent all through all the bet talk, but it seemed like the right time to speak up.]

...That's worse, frankly.

[NTS: Rob this man blind, immediately.]

[Good luck, all of his stupid wealth is in offshore accounts. He just gives the younger man a devilish grin.]

There's not much else I have to spend it on, after all. Beyond a few hobbies of mine, I don't particularly have to spend much on my living expenses.

[Because, honestly? He's barely living, hahaha haaaaaaaaa

But - he also sees that faint line of tension, the glimmer hidden in the eyes.

He will expect a visitor when he's 'out', won't he?]

2-A/2-B
[ Normally, Ekkehardt wouldn't participate in this sort of thing. Normally, he'd just stand on the sidelines and watch, or make a few token efforts to participate before tapping out.

But the circumstances that have gotten him riled up over the past few weeks, especially in the last few days, are far from normal.

And so, here is Ekkehardt, paintball gun in hand, ruthlessly tracking and pursuing anyone not on his team with a frankly kind of unnerving intensity. Traps don't seem to bother him much at all, though he'll gladly drive or trick anyone who's not as observant as him into them.

You can't see his expression under the gear he's wearing, but he seems to be enjoying himself very much. ]

Edited 2019-09-29 04:06 (UTC)

[Guns were not his thing, absolutely not, they were barely a thing in his time, and he heard enough stories about them blowing up in their user's hands to make him shy. But... if he has to live in this era, he has - to get used to it. Paintball seems like a good way, even if the pellets stun more than he thought.

The Knight was on the opposite team from Ekkehardt, and while clearly not used to having distance when not using magic, he was quick and alert, managing to backflip from a trap the TA nearly got him into, watching the paint spray up in a geyser.]

So that's...

[If the man will fight that intensely, he'll be just as tenacious, drawing back, trying to lure him]

[ Ekkehardt is enjoying himself. It's the most fun he's had in some time, not counting some of the dreams that he doesn't feel like thinking about right now.

He acknowledges the trap with a slight tilt of his head, but is quick to take the bait regardless. No fun without risk, and there's no harm in indulging a game. He pursues with gun in hand. ]

Now what do you have planned...?

[ His voice is an intent murmur. ]

Edited 2019-09-30 01:36 (UTC)

[He continues, before he suddenly lunges to the left, firing a shot - but it was a distraction, to allow another member of his team to strike at Ekkehardt.

At the ambush, Ky fires off another two shots before drawing back - seeming to be applying some military tactics to a paintball game]

[ Ekkehardt laughs, short and sharp, before he drops and lunges out of the way, straight towards Ky. He takes one paintball in the shoulder and dodges the other before firing off a barrage of shots ahead of him - trying to predict his movements than to hit him directly. ]

[Jail is fucking living.]

[This is an activity that relies on speed, stealth, cunning, technical skill, and willingness to be a bastard, such a bastard, just the absolute worst. It's perfect.]

[She is fast and she is wicked and she has for sure shot members of her own team, at least twice, on purpose. She is not even a little bit sorry.]

[She sees Ekkehardt. She considers the amount of mayhem occurring because of Ekkehardt.]

[They are not on the same team.]

[She makes direct eye contact with him, and pulls the clip of paintball ammunition from her gun. Then she replaces it with a different clip, in the color for his team. She's not even trying to hide it.]

[This is the third time she's switched sides this match.]

[ That earns a sharp laugh. He seems to be fairly free with those today. ]

Truly, you're the epitome of loyalty.

[ He doesn't even sound slightly disapproving. He turns his fire on someone else trying to sneak up on him, peppering them with paint until they're forced to retreat under the barrage.

Then they step into a trap and are doused in paint. He watches without so much as a wince of sympathy. ]

What should we do next, do you think? [ It's a battlefield ripe with possibility. ]

[No shame whatsoever.]

I'm a mercenary, you get what you pay for. [Which is... nothing, because this is a game and most people don't have to be bribed not to be sneaky bastards, Jail.]

[She gives the unlucky would-be attacker a cheery wave as the trap hits them. Sucks to be you, buddy.]

Been thinking about those traps, now that you mention it. They're mostly pressure-sensitive or motion-activated, it's looking, but I think there oughtta be a way to set 'em off remotely. Or maybe...

Move 'em. So we can set 'em off somewhere else.

[Translation: do you want to help her build a Hell Gauntlet and lure people into it?]

I can't tell if you're taking this too seriously, or not seriously enough. [ His tone is lighthearted. ]

Thinking of pilfering these traps for your own use? I can't say I'm against it, though it might change the odds a bit. [ Moriarty is using this as a betting lesson, after all.

That's more or less a 'yes', coming from Ekkehardt, though. ]

What kind of traps do you need? [ He's casting a worryingly analytical eye over the chaos in the battlefield. ]

Good. I like to keep 'em guessing.

'Sides, if he wasn't smart enough to factor in the odds of us fucking with the whole setup, he deserves to have this all go sideways on him.

[Moriarty's been around them longer then five minutes, he should clearly know better by know.]

Tripwire's too obvious, motion sensor's too finicky... anything pressure-activated is good, let's focus on those.

[You say this like he wouldn't approve???]

1
[Yeah, like hell was Lia going to miss this. It sounded like it'd be fun to watch, and there's no way she'd say no to refreshments of any kind.

So Lia can be found helping herself to the food and settling in somewhere, an eager smile on her face. After a while, she'll turn to whoever's nearby--]

Looking forward to it?

3
[She's looking things over, humming thoughtfully. She's... probably not making any bets herself, but that's not going to stop her from looking.

She doesn't really get any of this...]

3 - Moriarty
Not with the odds you have.

[He simply raises his brow, giving the man a knowing look. Pity, This seems like something popcorn worthy, and he can't have some, He does stretch out]

I wonder how long it'll take for them to notice.

3 - open

[Once the traps start going off, he's now paying close attention, sometimes laughing when a particularly clever, or silly use of a trap happens, fingers steeple together, the grin playing]

He really did go all out... must be quite the expense....

Notice? Why, I haven't the foggiest of what you mean!

[He does give the other man a 'don't spoil it' look as he sets a bag of popcorn next to himself, giving a thoughtful hum and tapping his chin.]

Though I'm sure that some people will be able to make better choices than others.

[He opens his mouth, then closes it, giving a brief glance to the popcorn before looking back out to the match, chuckling to himself as a particularly well-placed trap nailed someone]

I suppose you'll be offering lessons to the ones who don't choose well.

I am a professor, after all! A mere lesson on probability is well within my realm of teaching.

[He grins just the same, noting with delight the way it was going off - perfect, though he expected nothing less.

Picking up a kernel, he rolls it around in his hand, as if tempting himself...or, well, tempting Sherlock.

He fucking knows what he's doing.]

[He very quietly, and as subtly as one could nudge Moriarty's foot off the bleacher, just giving a look]

I have a sense that you'll have to set aside an extra block for just teaching probability and statistics.

[Subtle, yes - but he just seems to pay it no mind, continuing to play with his food.]

Oh, of course. Most people don't seem to realize the good in it, after all! And how helpful it can be in one's day to day life.

1 - Moriarty

*The cage's shields make a lot of noise, Maya's gotten better at tuning that out. It's a single magical sound, constant and just blurs to the background like the buzz of lights. Especially when she's come inside enough to be shooed away, if she were on the wrong side of the shield she wouldn't be as accurate. She can hear things under the floor, that are 'new' sounds. Not- anything she can specifically name. Just- something. Which of course has her attention.*

So... what's under the floor that's so special we can't go out there?

*Well, she has to ask. Otherwise she might not know. And Maya hates not knowing things. It bothers her, back of her mind, especially if knowing it might come in handy later.*

What's all this for anyway?

3 - Open

*Maya didn't try to make a case for joining in on the fun, but as much as watching all her teachers covered in paint is a dull thrill. It- was kinda like combat? Something she could learn from watching it. Since- well, that was her big failing here.*

*Who can't fight and tries to save the world? So her attention is pretty wrapped up in what's going on. So- unless someone pesters her to put down a bet, she's not gonna. She'd rather try to learn. The damn nerd.*

Hm? Nothing special - I just feel it would be unfair for any team to get a particular advantage early. After all, knowing and controlling the battlefield is the most optimal part of winning!

[He notes her pointed question - under the floor, did she have some sort of detection ability? - and files it away, merely smiling gently.]

Ah, nothing but a friendly game between Faculty! They were looking to facilitate this match, and I offered to organize it. A way to blow off steam or work out grievances in a harmless manner, you see.

*Maya's not got much of a poker face, you would think for a girl who doesn't express much emotion she could manage to hide the doubt she has. She can hear something there, hearing the nature of things is kinda her deal. So she does not believe for a moment it is 'nothing special.'*

In the cage, a magical arena that can contain pretty much any destructive magic. Sounds 'friendly.'

*She'd put the match there too, nobody at this school really knows how restraint works. But she can't just let the word friendly go like that, that wouldn't be her style.*

So... how do the players get to win your game?

*She's looking at the field trying to get a sense for any hints as to what the goals are, the game plan, if this is a battle, what's the objective. For a girl with no poker face, she's otherwise quite quiet, no footstep as she moves to try to look at more of the field... no sound at all, come to think of it. Outside her voice of course.*

Merely a precaution! Not to mention, there's not many places on campus that could safely contain this without paint or injuries from unrelated passerby.

[He's not lying there, either. There really wasn't much space, but yes - no one really knowing how restraint works was a big factor.

The lack of sound is noticed, filing it away again...a natural dampener? Perhaps that was merely her ability.]

It's a battle royale split between four teams! A two hour time limit, at the end of which the team with the most remaining combatants win, or the final team standing wins.

I suppose this is sorta what the cage is for...

*Not exactly as it was paintball not a livefire training with their powers. But it was close enough to battle it'd make sense. Also nobody at this school has any goddamn chill. Of course, she can tell he's holding back something. That just seems to- be him, there's more there.*

Two hours? Feels like even if everyone went nuts with their powers it would never take that long.

[He is, after all, a man of many hidden depths and illusions. She's right - there is always more to Moriarty, no matter how far you dig.]

Just a precaution, you see. Sometimes these game can stretch over days - granted, those normally take place in an actual forest, instead of something like this.

*The number of people who weren't, technically people, meant sleep and a desire to check twitter varied wildly. She could see a few people spending a week playing one game of paintball.*

So whatever's under the floors will speed this up compared to a real forest?

*Maya's attempt was neither subtle nor well thought out, but she had to try.*

He'd written nothing on the sign-up sheet. Of course, he hadn't. Nothing to write and he didn't have interest in teams anyway. But he is interested.

It means he lacks a mask, but that's more than fine. He draws his real one down over his face, eyes glowing from behind the dark sockets. He spooks someone next to him just well enough to catch the paintball gun they drop from their hands.

He starts off firing, cackling from behind the mask. And then the traps are announced. He stops still, staring in disbelief at the bastard behind the desk.

"Oy!" He calls out. "Are you related to some blonde asshole with a shitty hat by chance?"

Then the real game begins. He dodges a shot that goes past his head and turns on the target. He moves and fires with alarming speed.

"Blonde-?!"

Sorry, he has to comment on that - an eyebrow quirking up as he watches the...Hm. What was the man? Definitely not human, that was for sure. It would be interesting to see this - wait, which team was he part of?

...Oh.

Hm.

While he enjoys chaos, this might be a bit too far to be allowed. With a sigh, he takes out a remote, pressing something on it.

How good are you at dodging net traps?

Pretty good, but... well, why not show off in other ways?

He tosses the paintball gun back over his shoulder and draws his hand through the air. In it, a sword materializes, cutting through the net as it flies toward him. The remains of rope go past either side of him.

"Oh, come on!" He calls out. "You're not going to ruin the fun already, are you? I was just getting started!"

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PAINTBALL TIME - OPEN

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