neutral_omens | (no subject)

Date: December 20, 1999
Setting: The grounds
Status: Public
Summary: War starts a snowball fight.

There’s all sorts of speculation on why wars break out, and though not many say it, most of it is due to boredom.

War had been bored. She had been bored in 1812 and re-fought on the sea a conflict that had already been settled on land. She had been bored in 1914, and had succeeded in getting millions of men to sit in miles and miles of pestilential ditches and shoot at each other for no good reason. There was nothing like a good bloody battle for light entertainment.

And she was bored now, and had had no way of relieving the ennui of the tentative, resentful peace in the Manor. An all-out skirmish would not be permitted, at least here, so War had designed the next best thing to ease the passage of a tedious day.

She was propped up on the edge of a tightly-packed fort on an incline on the lawn. She smiled a smile almost as cold and biting as the air around her, and her breath rose in thin tendrils of steam as she packed snow into a hard icy ball. She examined it, tossing it to herself a few times: it was heavy, sculpted into almost a perfect sphere, and about as aerodynamic as snow could be. Her smile sharpened. This baby was going to sting.

War wrapped her mink-trimmed coat tighter around her, kneeled to peek over the top of the snow-fort’s walls, and lay in wait for prey.

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"So it's three on one now?" War yelled ecstatically, watching her snowball hit home. "Pretty bad odds, I think!"

Immediately after shaking off the snow from Famine's attack, War jerked from the force of Uriel's snowballs and screeched, feeling as if she'd been water-ballooned. She gasped as freezing water dripped down her face.

Shaking off like a dog, she ran both hands through her hair and tucked it into her coat to keep it out of her way. She quirked an eyebrow. "Nice invitation. You guys want me to come out, I'll come right on out."

Kicking over the front wall of the fort as she leapt out (it would do no good to abandon it only to have her opponents capture it), War ran down the hill, ruthlessly firing off what little ammunition she had in a wintry guerilla attack.

Destruction grinned and leaned down to grip the snow in his hands, face dripping. "Who said I'm not on your side, Red?" He yelled cheerfully, hurling the snowball at Famine with a practiced (and muscled) arm.

War laughed aloud and blew him a kiss. "Sweet of you, but don't worry about him, he couldn't hit sand in the Sahara. It's the angel I'm keeping an eye on."

Famine glared good naturedly for a moment before being hit hard in the face by Destruction's snowball. He blinked snow out of his eyes and threw snowballs at them both. "So I guess all those hits earlier were just flukes, eh, Red?" He threw another at her head before taking off after her.

Uriel smirked as he saw Destruction joining War's side. This was seemingly going to get rather interesting indeed.

"So sweet of you to have faith in me, Ruby!" he yelled cheerfully while throwing himself into the ground, rolling aside to avoid the snowy attack. "Now, let's see how you like this!"

He jumped back onto his feet, calling several snowballs into being. Then he started to throw at them at both War and her new ally -- just for distraction, though. His real attack was the large snowball currently forming on top of the hill. Large, as in, its top would probably reach War's hips when it was ready. The large snowball was specified to soon roll down, and to the side, and to the other side, too, if need be, until it hit War. And preferably Destruction on its way to her, too.

He only specified about half of the snowball to melt upon contact, too. After all, he wasn't that mean.

"You don't hit as hard as you'd like to think, Fam--" War started to call back, before ducking most but being hit by more than a few of Uriel's snowballs. She laughed aloud. "Isn't that the point, angel? Faith?"

She leapt a little closer and knelt down to re-arm herself, remaining tense and ready to spring into attack mode or fend off any attack-- any attack from the front, anyway.

Destruction rolled his eyes. "Bah, angels!" He yelled, and leapt into the fray. Well, actually he leapt into a snow bank. But he metaphorically leapt into the fray.

Uriel heard Destruction's words -- how could he have missed that shout? -- and was not pleased. Seeing the man's next move, he got a wicked thought. Waving his hand a bit, he made sure that the snow bank was just a bit softer than Destruction had expected -- that is, just soft enough for a man of his build to sink in as deep as there was snow. And, with another wave of his hand and an evil-ish giggle, Uriel made sure that there was a lot of that snow. At least four or five feet.

After all, what was the point of being an angel if you couldn't use your powers for anything?

Famine grinned as he watched Destruction fall into a snow drift and Uriel's giant snowball form itself above War. He carefully worked his way to the side and slightly up the hill, maneuvering well out of the way of the snowball and hoping to get into closer range before War recovered from it.

Destruction suddenly found himself in a rather ridiculous position. The leap onto a suddenly-unstable substance, through which he had fallen, retained momentum and caused him to do a thorough face-plant in the snow. "Mmmph." He mentioned. Well, he always had liked the taste of snow.