milliways_bar | party post: hail the conquering heroes

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party post: hail the conquering heroes | outside, tree fort

Anyone in the main barroom or out by the lake today will be treated to an odd sight. Dozens of girls, shouting, squealing, running through the backdoor and across the lawn, arms laden with all manner of treats — and one boy, tied up, pulled along with them.

The gang makes their way to the forest, where a tree fort rises above the ground. It's quite a fancy fort, equipped with slingshots, water balloon launchers, and other weaponry and defenses. The interior paneling has some Cybertronian script on it. There's a tire swing outside fashioned from a tractor tire, a crow's nest, and the entrance may be had by ladder, drawbridge, or manual elevator. Inside there are comics, pudding snacks, and the sort of things you'd expect to see in a tree house. It was clearly designed by somebody who really loved their gadgets, and knew what they were doing.

Kate and Natasha have seized the property. Being outlaws in need of a hideout, and all.

"This way!"

Natasha is already inside, leaving all entrances open to the returning posse and offering cover from anyone who might be following. Once the snacks are secured and the prisoner is dealt with, everyone can breathe a huge sigh of relief.

And enjoy the fruits of their labor.

[ooc: ~~give us one minute to set up some thread headings before tagging~~ We're open for business! This post is wide, wide open to everyone — boy, girl, adult, child, animal, mineral, etc. The girls will be inside the tree fort, but it's completely visible from the ground for any who want to stop by and see what's going on, or sneak their way in. ^__^

tiny!tag: age spell plot]

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Unluckily for Steve and Emma, Natasha and Kate are not the only two girls paying attention to the coming invasion.

Noriko is ready with an opened and half-empty, mostly melted strawberry ice cream, the lip of the tub perched in the window and held up by a stool as she peers out to see the top of a much older boy's head. With effort she aims for him and tips it up, much like the cartoonish descriptions of pouring boiling oil on intruders. Only the melted ice cream is much stickier and harder to get off. "Banzai!"

Also unluckily, there are more hidden hatches than just the one.

FROM ABOVE, LIKE A BAT WAITING IN THE SHADOWS TO UNFURL ITS MIGHTY WINGS, COMES THE COLD CRUEL JUSTICE OF — another icy water balloon.

Aimed, yet again, for Emma's head.

She's starting to think that kid's got it out for her.

This one hits the crown of her head and explodes, dumping water through her hair and down the back of her neck while she gasps in shock. "That's it."

The damn hatch is going to open, whether it wants to or not. She reaches above her head for a branch to brace herself against, and brings a boot solidly down on the wood.

Thump. Thump.

Her teeth grit, and she lifts her foot well up, leans back against the branch, swings her whole weight forward. "Looks like --"

Thu -- crrrrack.

She tosses a defiant glance at Steve, lips pulling in something that's too fierce to be a smile. "I've got my way in."

Those hinges really weren't meant to hold up to repeated boots pounding at their weak side, but the hatch is plenty big for her to slide through once she's kicked it in.

Edited 2013-10-30 01:03 (UTC)

Steve's not expecting the ice cream.

But even more? They probably aren't expecting that Steve had a little sister.

You know why? Because having a little sister does one drastically important thing to an older brother. It teaches you how to take a small licking for a bigger prize just beyond that give. So, yeah, maybe there's ice cream dribbling down his hair and into his collar, but the little girl with the black hair has much bigger problem right now.

In the shape of one boy, cannonballing in through the window, taking its ledge, her stool, her ice cream tub, and her down with him, when he tries to roll for a summersault so that he doesn't end up slamming his shoulders (as hard as he does anyway).

Edited 2013-10-30 01:14 (UTC)

Noriko was not expecting that, no.

But she knows exactly how to deal with it; just as having a little sister teaches things to Steve, having a little brother has taught things to Noriko. Namely, that between a boy's legs are very sensitive bits, and that hitting or kicking them is quite painful. And fueling the impetus to use that knowledge is the rage that comes only from a fairly vain and very proud nine-year-old who loves her hair. Having ice cream in it is infuriating like few other things, and once she scrambles to her feet she zeroes in on Steve remarkably quickly.

And aims a balled fist directly for his groin, swinging as hard as she can from the shoulder.

Meanwhile, Kate is shrieking as the hatch collapses inward. She didn't think it would be big enough for the older girl to get through.

She runs for a tub of pudding.

(It's dark, and stuffy, and it kind of smells like socks in here, and his foot's kind of getting numb, but he stays as still as he can until he can't anymore. And that point comes when he hears the girls shouting and shrieking, bodies hitting the floor and wooden boards cracking.

It's time.)

Suddenly the lid of the toy chest flies open, and Tommy, fully-loaded water pistols strapped to his sides and chest, rears up with a massive Supersoaker in his hands.

"Yaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

(He would've said "Say hello to my liddle fren," except that movie hasn't come out yet.)

He lets loose a super-powered jet of water at the teenagers, spraying back and forth between them like a machine gun.

There's a scuffle by the window as Steve comes barreling in, and Emma makes a grab for the little blonde, but misses her closed enough to feel the flick of hair against her knuckles, but then a hair-raising nightmare explodes from a toy chest nearby and everything goes straight to hell.

(At some point in the future, Tommy is probably going to be outright proud of his miniature self for effectively dousing Emma while she's wearing a white tank top, flannel overshirt or no.)

She stands for a second in shock, hands lifted to ward off the water and sputtering, before lunging for the little boy, disregarding the spray soaking her shirt and jeans, hair a sodden mess. "Kid, knock it off! We're on your side!"

Luck is maybe with him. Steve is still tumbling when the tinier person in his tumble has gotten her feet, and she's trying her hardest to punch. There. Which isn't so much a surprise. Get in a fight with anyone as a boy, and they go for it like gold. Little sisters. Football players. Academy boys. Weak spot. He almost misses his cup.

He's lucky she misses and pummels into the muscle in his inner thigh. It's close, and she's got a good arm for someone that tiny, because he's betting already that it's going to bruise. But he's still able to breathe, and roll to block even better. To try and get to his knees and his feet. Or at least he was, before someone was suddenly spraying a solid wall of water at both of them. It caught him straight across his shoulder and an ear, making him duck-dodge back.

"What the??" Wasn't the ice cream, that was still melting and sliding down his back, bad enough? It was that kid? Who was suddenly attacking everyone?

Tommy's never handled a squirt gun quite like this. The supply of water is endless! (Well. Nearly endless.)

But that jet of water to the ear's gotta smart.

"Guess I switched sides!" he hollers back at the teenage girl, continuing to soak her.

Then, just as he feels the water pressure lessening, he drops the big gun and draws the neon-colored Beretta-shaped water pistols from the holsters on his hips like an outlaw and continues to ~~fire~~ spray at them.

Noriko will need so many washings to get all the ice cream out of her hair. She's fully prepared to hate Steve forever for his actions, and is only distracted by the momentary glee at Tommy's pronouncement that he's switched sides.

She knew he'd see reason sooner or later, and she does a remarkable shout of 'Get the teenagers!' to the tune and sentiment of 'burn the witch' as she grabs for a soda can and shakes it vigorously, aiming for the two tallest people currently in the fort. But particularly Steve.

"Oh, you switched sides, huh?"

Emma's never heard of Stockholm syndrome, and even if she had, she'd be too pissed off right now to consider it a possibility.

They go to all this trouble -- she gets water balloons on her head -- and this kid just decides to change his mind? "What, something wrong with your mouth before that you couldn't say so?"

Psychological terms might be beyond her, but there's one thing she does know: she's bigger and faster than any little kid, and at the end of the day? There's nothing a water pistol can do to slow her down.

Or, in this case, march forward to wrap an arm around his knees and hike him up onto her shoulder.

The soda being sprayed is more annoying than alarming. It's less shocking and less immediately freezing than having an entire gatorade cooler, full of water and ice, poured on your head. Also, there's less cheering about more record breaking going on in this circumstance, too.

There's the urge to string the little girl up by her knees, but Steve still got some preservation for small girls and their heads.

Really all he does for that one is raise a hand to block any part of it hitting his face, because the clothes are a loss already. Ice cream and water drenched, now being ice cream, soda and water drenched. Looking toward Emma, whose clothes are far too soaked everywhere now, and snapp. "Dude, seriously? Now you think about changing sides? Are you bent?"

Not that the fortifications aren't cool, even without time to look at them. But come on, he could have stayed seated then.

Besides it's the principle. You don't make deals with terrorists. Even the tiniest of little girl terrorists, shouting cowboy quotes.

"You'll never take me aliwhoaaa hey put me down!"

Tommy had put up with being tickled. He'd put up with being hog-tied. He'd put up with everything else, but being picked up and hoisted over a (girl's) shoulder? This is downright undignified.

There's only one thing for it.

"Release the secret weapon!"

Um. Do they even have a secret weapon?

He just thought it sounded like the right thing to shout right about now.

Well, they have a tiny little Soviet girl who is going to start concentrating on Emma's knees. Knees are great! They bend and people fall over and -

"FOR THE PEOPLE!" Natasha shouts, and lobs a water-balloon directly at Emma's legs.

"THE PEOPLE!"

Dixie doesn't even know what that means, but she does have a leftover apple pie and good aim.

Better duck, Steve.

Their secret weapon is a tiny ~~adorable~~ Southern Belle lobbing pies. They would make a great Golden Age of Cinema ensemble.

Speaking of, Kate manifests with a makeshift bolas. It's no more than a length of cord attached to two soaked Nerf footballs, but it does the trick remarkably well. She swings the bolas with all her might and starts aiming for ankles.

"You won't have us t'your necktie social, y'varmints! No way, no how!"

It's a good strategy. With a rock, or something heavy, it would work great.

As it is, the water balloon just bursts against her knee and soaks her left leg as she rocks a little against the impact and glares at the tiny redhead, while the bola wraps around her ankles, leaves her still standing there, rolling her eyes. "What? Look, just, hold it, okay? Jeez, everybody just, PAUSE."

The last word gets bellowed into the air, and she shifts, talks over her shoulder to the little boy.

"Fine. Kid, you want to stay here and play with the girls, or what? Because it is really easy to just say so and we'll leave you here with your girlfriends and go back to the bar to find something dry to wear."

And something strong to drink, if she can get Bar to look the other way.

"They ain't my girlfriends!"

Because clearly this is the most important thing to clarify.

And because it's difficult to address her directly from his position, he's just going to have to address her ass.

"I didn't need your help anyways! So just put me the fuck down an' leave us alone an' take your boyfriend with you!"

She may feel free to dump the potty-mouthed little brat in the nearest puddle any time now.

"You got it, champ. Next time I see a kid all tied up and getting his ass hauled off to a treehouse, I won't bother."

She's not gonna drop the little twerp in a puddle, though. Nope, she just lifts her hand and lets him slide right off her shoulder, headfirst, to the floor.

She kind of hopes he cracks his skull on it. For all her tone is cool, her face is burning. Here she is, wet through, covered in fuck knows what kind of gunk, trying to do the right thing, and she's getting it thrown in her face?

Yeah, that's the last time she tries to lend a hand. Fat lot of good it did here.

She bends to unwrap the bola without bothering check if the kid hit the floor with his head or his shoulder, kicks it off, and shoots a defiant glance back at Steve. There's no reason for her to be pissed at him, too, but she's not exactly feeling all that charitable, either. "I'm out."

"I'm with you."

Yeah. Steve's quite done with this popsicle stand. And all of the kids.

He never signed up to be drenched in and half-deafened with water, then covered in ice cream, soda, and now pie.

Especially when it's all happening for absolutely no good reason. Over a kid who's gone soft headed on his girl captors who rather did hog tie him, shove a gag in his mouth, and carry him off as a hostage. "Come on, let's leave The Land of the Flies to themselves already."

There's a gesture of his hand for Emma to get with going back through the hole she came up. Because he'll take it next. He's got no need to go bowling straight back out the window unless he has to. Which he will, if she doesn't move. But it is nice to at least offer it to a girl, first. Especially when she seems like the only other rational person in the room.

Edited 2013-11-04 05:52 (UTC)

"Wh- auuugh!"

Luckily Tommy breaks his fall by landing on his hands first, then takes a hard tumble onto his back with a WHUMP (and also a bit of a SPLAT, since the floor is now slick with water and goo). It smarts and knocks the breath out of him, and his eyes sting with anger, but he's not going to cry, because boys don't cry. He just gives that blonde girl a snarl as she makes her way to the hatch.

There's ice cream, and chocolate, and candy, and cookies, and there are comic books and toys up here. When you're a ten-year-old boy with his own interests in mind, it's amazing what you can forgive when sweets are involved. The girl and her boyfriend are old, practically adults, so they wouldn't understand anyway.

Little boys are durable, and she's not tall. The drop from her shoulder isn't going to hurt him for more than a few seconds, and he's not getting either her sympathy or anything other than a scrunched-up, derisive glance at that growl.

"Careful, kiddies," she says, dripping sarcasm. "Sounds to me like he's got rabies."

Okay, fine. She might be old -- practically adult -- but she's still got feelings that can hurt, and little boys have a way of stomping all over those with hobnailed boots.

But she'll be damned if she lets it show.

So she just lets Steve give her a hand to the hatch, and pulls herself through, drops lightly to the ground in the dark, only pausing until she hears him following her, before stalking off back to the bar, lips set, brushing ineffectually at her wet shirt.

"He's a revolutionary," Natasha shoots back. Boy or no, he's a COMRADE.

Once the youth leaves with the older girl, Natasha firmly locks the hatch, and then stamps on it. Take that, would be kidnappers!

And the kidnappers have left, and this means one thing:

"WE WON!" she shouts. "WE WON, WE WON, WE WON, ICE CREAM FOR EVERYONE!"

Honestly, Tommy's switch surprises Kate as much as anyone else. Up until the final moment she had her suspicions that he was a no-good dirty rotten spy. However, the fort and their loot had to be defended either way.

So she sits, blinking, watching the retreat in shock. She thought they'd lost, but — well, Natasha has said it. She beams.

"YAHOO! We won, an' nobody got hanged!"

This was a concern.

"Good job, everybody. This is the best gang in the universe."

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party post: hail the conquering heroes | outside, tree fort

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