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Post by BLY BASTIAN HOLLIS on May 4, 2010 15:49:18 GMT -5
It'd been quite awhile since Bly had participated in any large events with people of the tour. In fact, he generally stuck to his own band and dating, along with his own fan base. But he'd long ago discovered it was a lot of fun to pick one random activity and involve EVERYONE. This was the reason he was hiding up in a tree, texting everyone he knew to get to the park, with his own camo gear on and a paintball gun attached to his hand. It had been a sport he'd enjoyed all his life; even when he'd had a welt the size of his palm on his cheek due to one of the little balls that whirred around at top speed.
The first person he'd informed of this impending game was his old friend Camden; the girl had been at his side one way or another as long as he could remember. In fact, she was the first one his mother had ever attempted to turn into a hippie, because she was the first friend he'd ever brought home from school. Go figure they'd follow the same basic paths in life. Then he'd proceeded to advertise his little hellian event in the tour chat, followed by texting anyone else he knew. This was going to be epic if he had anything to say about it.
Watching the people in the park mill about Bly smirked to himself before loading the green and blue paintballs he'd picked out into their chamber; taking aim in the center of the tree above a couple getting a bit too hot and heavy for a public place, and let loose. Several balls let loose and painted the side of the tree, dropping little bits of paint and ball membrane onto the couple who began scrambling about looking for the culprit. All Bly could do was slink back in his hiding spot and chuckle to himself. Serves them right, getting too frisky in a place where people brought their kids. As soon as the couple huffed off, their blanket in tow and their belongings in their bags, Bly began scanning the rest of the area; lighting the last half of a joint to enjoy while he waited for the others to show.
At the end of the walkway there was several emo looking kids, the kind that put real emo kids to shame. Taking aim six or seven feet ahead of them he shot the ground; hearing them squeal caused him to have to cover his mouth. That laughter would most definitely have been heard by everyone around. And it was not yet time to reveal his position or his agenda; anyone was a target but civilians weren't to be hit. Only tour members could be shot, because obviously they wouldn't sue. They'd joined the fun out of their own free will. Yes, Bly definitely knew how to get around rules and the like.
WORD COUNT; five hundred & eight
TAG; Anyone!
MUSIC; Heart Shaped Box - Nirvana
NOTES; Let the games begin guys! Make it fun! |
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Post by bailey on May 4, 2010 19:13:09 GMT -5
 The last time Bailey Simon had gone paintballing her older brother Robbie had ended up with a black eye and a broken finger while she had remained unscathed. Maybe it was a violent miracle, or maybe she was just a little too skilled with a gun. Either way, she was long overdue for kicking some major ass and receiving Bly’s text message had brought a smile to her face. It figured that Bly would have an idea like this. She had honestly considered silently declining the invite and busying herself with something that did not involve interacting with some of the douchebags that could possibly show up. But then she had recalled how awful Robbie had looked for weeks after their excursion and her mind was made up. She had even gone so far as to smear eyeliner under her eyes in the place of war paint. Some would say that was taking it to an extreme, but it was all in fun. Besides, if Bailey was going to play this game she was going to play it right. That meant winning because Bailey Simon never ever lost.
That had been less than fifteen minutes ago. Bailey was now approaching the park, walking casually as if she had nothing to worry about, though she knew Bly was lurking somewhere and, as nice as he was about the ladies, he would not be above shooting at her. Her ears were on alert, especially since she wasn’t armed. Who brought a paintball gun of tour with them? Water guns, sure, she had plenty of those big mother fuckers, but not a paintball gun. Suddenly, high pitched squeals met her ears and Bailey was instantly at attention, pulled from her thoughts of water guns and whatnot. She glanced around quickly and almost laughed as several disgusting looking excuses for human beings scattered from the walkway, bright paint spatter covering the asphalt. Shaking her head, Bailey set off in that direction, her arms raised to show she was no threat. Her ears were still strained though, listening for the clicking of a trigger, just in case.
As she neared the spot where the group of morons had been standing moments earlier, Bailey stopped and planted her feet firmly on the ground, knowing she was out in the open. “Shoot me and I will kill you in the most painful way possible,” she called out to the trees around her, willing to bet her life that Bly was hiding behind one of them. Her loud comment earned her a glare from a passing woman with a baby stroller and she rolled her eyes. That kid was too young to understand what she was saying, stupid bitch. If Bailey ever had kids she would...never mind. Kids would never happen for her. She was the furthest thing from maternal. Hitching her thumbs in the pockets of her ripped denims, she looked around expectantly, her eyebrows raised.
It was then that a thought struck her. What if she was not the first person to arrive? Oh well that was just fucking lovely. She was a sitting duck for a bunch of idiots. No matter. Bailey smirked to herself. She may not have been armed with a gun, but paintballs only lasted so long. Her fists were forever. And hey, all’s fair in love and war. O U T F I T |
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Post by BLY BASTIAN HOLLIS on May 6, 2010 17:10:26 GMT -5
Stifling laughter as Bailey showed up Bly aimed his gun about four feet from where she was and released four or five green balls of paint, holding a hand over his mouth to stifle afterward. Listening to her speak Bly shook his head before reaching up to one of the tree branches where he'd hung several guns for those who hadn't brought any. Slowly he began dangling it in her view so she'd know his tree. There was no way he was climbing down for anything, it'd taken too damn long to get there in the first place. Nope, she could find her way there and climb on up if she thought she could do it.
Come get it, pretty lady! Bly called out, hiking the gun back up and re-hanging it while he awaited a reaction from her. Of all the people to respond to his text, Bly was glad Bailey had done so. The girl was like ... one of his favorite people on tour. She could drink with him til the sun came up and never thought for a moment that he was being a true blue dick. Nope, Bailey knew Bly well, specially from their time dating. And she was one of those girls that Bly didn't associate with dating; that was in the past and they now had far more interesting things to do than bother with whining about what could've been. They were excellent, much better as, friends.
Rather than shooting at Bailey he tossed a ball her way, not being at all surprised if she caught it though that might hurt whether it was thrown or not. You're the first one here, come get your shit! He yelled, clarifying what she should be doing rather than standing in the middle of the park. They needed more people from tour to show up or Bailey n' Bly were bound to get arrested for disturbing the peace. And just how badly would that look for the tour if they were forced to be bailed out by their 'parental figures' of tour management? A small chuckle passed his lips, hell no, Bly would have someone from the bus come get his sorry ass and then he'd bail out Bailey ... another laugh cause of his stupid pun.
Setting his gun across his knees Bly pulled out a joint and lit it, inhaling and exhaling several times. By the time you get here this'll be gone! He announced from the tree. Another laugh passed his lips as he watched people look at the tree, confused, as if they truly thought it was talking and they were crazy. Now that sounded almost more entertaining the shooting people and scaring others with paintballs. But that was what he'd come here for, he'd be a tree haunter on a different day when he didn't have an physical ammo to use.
WORD COUNT; five hundred and six
TAG; Bailey/Anyone
MUSIC; The Little Things - Danny Elfman [Wanted Soundtrack]
NOTES; DUN DUN DUN |
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