(no subject)

[whatamigoodfor.livejournal.com]

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.

Comments

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

Being too concentrated on War, Uriel's angel senses didn't pick up the "threat" from behind. Therefore, he was rather unprepared as a snowball hit the back of his head -- rather hard, even.

Yelping a bit in surprise, he turned around just in time to hear the newcomer's deliberately belated question. Brushing snow off his neck, he glared at the man, then let his snowballs fly, half of his mind occupied with scooping snow from the ground, forming it into balls, and hovering those balls at an appropriate distance to be taken into use as soon as he ran out of ammunition.

"Anybody's free to join," he shouted out, "but in this battle, there's no giving up before the end!"

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the large snowball finally hit War's back, half of it immediately melting into icy cold water. Crying out in triumph, he then jumped aside to avoid the newcomer's attack.

[whatamigoodfor.livejournal.com]

It wasn't often that War was directly hit and thrown sprawling to the ground, but this was one of those times. And to cap it off, she'd been drenched with freezing water as well.

She gasped, then her voice rose to a shriek. "Talk about fairness!" Whose fault would this be but the angel's? She glared at Uriel. "If that's the way you want to play!"

War pushed the remains of the gigantic snowball off herself and sprang to her feet, racing down the hill toward Uriel with every intention of getting him as wet as she had become.

[http://users.livejournal.com/white_grin_/]

The marquis managed to dodge a bit of the barrage of snowballs, and was laughing as the rest hit his coat. He ducked behind an embankment of snow, making several snowballs and throwing them at the man, who dodged rather nicely.

He grinned when he heard the woman's exclamation, and commented, voice drifting out from behind the drift, "Sounds as if you've made a dangerous enemy, sir! But don't give up before the end!"

[allfather-odin.livejournal.com]

Wednesday had been watching the snow fall outside his window for most of the day. Made him... distinctly *not* homesick... *contemplative* about the Northlands. Here in Britain, snow was unusual, and was seen as something not entirely welcome. For him, it brought a feeling of belonging. He basked in it.
Then, just as he was about to indulge in a sauna, he felt a familiar feeling. Jumping to his feet he ran down the hall and out through the large double doors. With a berserker cry, and a bloodshot eye, he threw himself into the snow and began to pepper snowballs at everything that moved.
OK, it wasn't Ragnorok, but as he began to be pelted by other snowballs, he felt the blood course through his veins again in a way that it hadn't since being in America.
"Valhalla, he was coming."*
*Immigrant song- Led Zep

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

Uriel grinned as War and the latest fighter both shouted at him. "Never have I made an enemy I haven't been capable of winning!" he shouted back self-confidently. "Now, as for you..."

Just as he was about to attack his opponents, a man he vaguely recognized rushed out of the Manor with a wild cry. Then he started throwing snowballs at everyone around; obviously he didn't have a side.

"Choose your side!" shouted Uriel as he started to throw balls at the man in treutrn. "This isn't an all-on-all battle!"

[http://users.livejournal.com/white_grin_/]

De Carabas stood up as Wednesday rushed into the fray, grinning hugely, like an extremely self-satisfied tiger. "We form a side, then!" he shouted. "Wednesday, I believe this shall begin the better half of our deal!"

It was, as far as the marquis could tell, two on two on two now. He began throw snowballs at the robed man, while he was busy attacking Wednesday.

[allfather-odin.livejournal.com]

The crazed look dimmed slightly from Wednesday's eye as he recognized a few faces, but the fire of battle surged through his brain. He smiled insanely at the Marquis. He wouldn't choose anyone else to be next to.
"Yes! This can be the Beginning!" He reared up, grey suit covered in snow, looking like an ice giant (though he wouldn't have been pleased if anyone had said it).
He sized up the other combatants. An angel... fighting him would be fun. Destruction... it would be pleasant to detroy the destroyer. And the other two. He couldn't place them, but he found himself strangely drawn to the red-headed woman. He watched her throwing snowballs with a will. She reminded him of another being from so long ago. Her dark companion reminded him of Hel and her domain.
With another death-cry, he increased his furious attack.

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

Uriel smirked a bit. So it was a three-side battle now, then. Well, that was just better. He was already having a better time than he could remember having at any point during the last few centuries.

With a glance he took in the events of the battleground. Destruction was still face down in the snow. War was running down the hill towards him, soaked and obviously out for revenge. The latest additions to the battle were now both firing snowballs at him, most of which he subconsciously avoided but was hit by a few. And to the side, stood Famine.

...And the top of the hill was now clear.

A grin spread onto his face as he got an idea. Willing the back of his robe to open, he unfolded his wings. Quickly rising into air, he headed for Famine, ignoring the snowballs fired at him. If he only could get his ally to the top of the hill with himself, they'd have the best ground in the battle. That thought sure was appealing.

"Ready to take over the hill?" he shouted to Famine, unable to wipe the wide grin from his face.

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine grinned broadly and waved to his ally. "After you, my friend," he called back. Defeating War herself, even in something as simple as a snowball fight, would be immensely satisfying.

[http://users.livejournal.com/white_grin_/]

The marquis's eyes widened as the robed man's wings unfurled, and he gave ground a step before catching himself. An angel, then?

A slight twist of fear, which he sought to ignore. After all, the battle was already begun. And, in the context of a snowball fight, this angel was not a real threat, surely? Not to mention, he reminded himself, the rules placed on the Manor by the Antichrist himself.

So he turned to Wednesday, and grinned a little, and said, "I believe they're trying for the hill! Shall we stop them?" He began pelting the angel's thin ally, then, in an attempt to down him before his reinforcements arrived.

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine was very surprised when he was suddenly pelted from the side, and wasted a few moments locating his attacker. "Why gang up on us?" He laughed despite his show of annoyance and threw a few snowballs back before making a run for it up the hill.

[whatamigoodfor.livejournal.com]

War smirked as she saw Destruction grab Uriel, both of them being heavily pelted, and changed her path. Instead of heading for the angel, she raced head-on for Famine, all but lowering her head as she charged him.