KoAII Round 2: Corniss vs Pan

[Alura]

Scenerio - A group of sixteen teenagers are having a paintball match, 8 vs 8.

Assignment - Roleplay the paintball match. Any point of view is fine

Rules - None

Five days

[Alura]

PAN

?All right, Mike, is the course all set up?? Ah hell, it was cold ? worst kind of paintball weather.

?Yeah, couple of the triangles kept flipping over though so we?re just gonna? keep up sideways.? Oh, windy too. This was already looking to be a fantastic match. Right. No matter how promising the weather looked the previous day, it always ended up like shit just before the real deal. I couldn?t understand why these things would always happen when I went, but they did. My friends and ?acquaintances? were always around talking about how great and challenging paintball was?in good weather. Of course, I never got a chance to experience this ?great and challenging? game to its full life. Regardless, I was provoked into every time I had time, just for the sake of getting maybe one good game.

And then this had come up; an eight versus eight match, a fight between some of my friends and friends they had that I?ve never even seen before. As much as I tried to convince myself the game was counting for something, everyone was treating it like an every day thing. Not only that, they looked down upon their five hundred dollar guns as if they were third rate garbage. In open day light, as we stood huddled around the gravel-lot outside the custom course, they practically spat on their fourteen inch barrels in shame. As if to pronounce my disappointment in my own?one hundred dollar rifle, I kept it behind me at all times. I strapped a belt one of my pals had lent me around my waist, making sure not to look like an idiot while doing it ? I wouldn?t have either way, but a self-conscience can do that to you. Not to mention the sheer arrogance of people can invoke them to do things like they?re pros no matter what they actually are.

The wind was getting harder, and one of the larger members of my eight man squad declared the match was going to start in a few minutes. He rounded us up with a twirling motion of his fingers and drew down his mask, directing me to do the same in a phrase involving the words ?retard,? and ?newbie.? I sighed at this and pulled my mask down, only reluctant to do so just to defy the guy?s obvious demands. We hustled to the field, barely noticing the hazy sky above our heads. A light hail had started, and while all others were fastened away in their foot-thick suits, I had to settle with a rain coat and blue jeans. While they had ground-holding cleats, I was forced to wear hand-me-down sneakers so that my good pair wouldn?t be ruined. These guys were definitely in the game, and had been for at least a few months, which was more than I could say more me.

?All right, Jay, you got your safety off?? The one who had spoke before chuckled loudly, almost inducing the magical force of ?my fist to someone?s face? once again, ?Remember, the paintballs don?t hurt, so don?t go whining.? I moaned, ignoring his irritating directions in my proud state of mind.

?Jesus Christ, dude, I don?t need to go over the rules again.? I retorted sharply, keeping my eyes away from his line of sight. The match was starting soon; I couldn?t afford to put my mind on something else. Go! Someone from the other team boomed, immediately enlivening the rest of my crew with godly reflexes and speed I knew I?d never match up to. I hustled to the nearest blow-up pillar, ducking slightly to increase my rate of protection. Pivoting my arm out, I began to let loose on my trigger wildly, firing off blind shots into the distance. I heard the resounding call of contact upon more protective plastic objects, and to my dissatisfaction it seemed my team was losing members fairly quickly, as the game went.

?I?m tagged!? The supposed leader who had spoken so directly to me before yelled, raising his gun above his head to signify his loss. At least four of the members on our squad had been eliminated by now, and it had not been five minutes in the game yet. I leapt to the grass, brushing away the creeping cold from my arms as I struggled for another bunker of defense. Lifting up, I finally took actual precision in my shots, unleashing an array of paint upon my foes in a desperate attempt to outlive the rest of my team.

My first target squealed slightly as he realized the contact of my paint to his chest, and sluggishly receded to the ?safe zone? beyond his team?s bunkers. Rain now blurred my sight as I trudged through the field beneath the protection of our border?s barricades. I found my muscles stimulated by every recoil of my gun, hinting the need for a refill to the feeding tube. I complied immediately, restocking the weapon with as much as it would carry. More voices bellowed over the field as I fired. The same four who had been out were accompanied now by two others, while the other team kept well with three. The other teammate remaining gestured to me, glancing quickly over toward a solitary barricade ? I nodded back. The game was almost through.

I made a final dash to the end of the field, turned, slid and fired.

?Shit! I?m gone.?

I heaved in exhaustion. My target walked off the field, a ball of paint splattered on his right pant legging. It was a two on two match now, or at least I had assumed ? two more hollers came from afar. My last remaining teammate stepped up, his gun still at his side.

?God damn, I?m cold.? The two shot victims shivered as they passed me. It was cold, after all ? I must have forgotten over the course of the match. I turned to the others with a feigned look of boredom over my face; even though it was no extraordinary match or a deciding tournament, I felt some sense of victory within me. I?d kicked some ass in the process of outlasting the ass that had been such a pro to begin with.

And then they announced the start of the second match. My face was already blue with the weather?s effects, but my previous victory had inspired the others to me ? they almost dragged me back onto the field. Go!

God damn it.

[Alura]

PAN

OVER

CORNISS