Survival Of The Fittest

Vibrations from impacts were going off at a low rate across his body. This was one of the few times Lars was thankful for his small stature. He had trotted softly from the area after nobody had come for him. He paid to have fun here, not cower in a dead end.

Flashes of red and blue had come occasionally with "gunfire" from both. Lars didn't know how often he hit them, but he was pretty sure he escaped a good deal of vibrations.

Walking slowly, looking for his red-canine enemies, Lars heard a girl yell. He recognized the voice from earlier in the game, but hadn't placed it before now. It was Clair, and it sounded like she was on his team. After he that Lars rested his palm in his face and chuckled.

This means we were in the waiting room together, and I didn't notice. Shaking his head out of his palm Lars followed her voice the best he could, but he was too late.

There were two boys from the other team in front of him, and Lars fired reflexively at them.

((Just saw I broke post order. Sorry about that, guys.))

After finding their way to an area, Jessica and her sisters found a guy huddled in a corner. Darn it, why did he have to be hidden? They kept trying to shoot him in there but his cover was good. So not many, if any, of their shots were hitting, not to mention that she knew from the flashing lights that they were getting hit too. Was it from him or someone else?

It was time to back off, find if someone else was getting them. Cover was no fun in laser tag, because they were just trying to be annoying, not actually play!

Clayton was confused, and maybe a little dazed as well. Bright lights flashed, music pounded, and everywhere he could hear the shouts and screams of teenagers engaged in a battle royale.

Clayton finally got the urge to make a move. He lunged from his cover, never going faster than a brisk walk to hopefully avoid violating any rules and getting kicked out, and blindly firing his weapon off in the direction where he thought he saw someone from the other team. He rapidly squeezed the trigger of his pistol, a zapping sound emanating from the speakers and flashes of light bouncing off the walls and blocks nearby.

Claire remained in her corner, firing wildly. She found that it had been working for a while, so she continued doing it.

FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU

Claire was pretty certain she hit a few people. The guns would indicate if she hit anyone, and the way her count was rising, she was confident she was getting a few Red Team Dogs.

Hell yes. I am so hot that you can fry eggs on my ass. There is no way blue team can lose- wait, does accuracy matter? Because I've surely fucked up in that categorOHWHATTHEFLYINGASSFUCK???!?!?!?!

Suddenly, the girl on Red Team and the guy with the fedora came from behind a corner and began firing at her. Claire screamed loudly as she fired back. She suddenly felt a rumble on her chest, right as the other two players stopped moving.

"Wow, triple knock out," she said. "Well, see yeah!"

Claire quickly hurried out of the corner and made her way through the arena. When her gun activated again, she began to fire wildly.

If this girl goes below four miles per hour, she will get shot! YAARRRRRRGGGHHHHHHH

*RING*

The loud ring indicated that the game was over. At that moment, Claire knew she had to make her way to the entrance of the arena.

"Alright! Woo! That was awesome!" she shouted as she pranced over to the entrance.

She hurried into the waiting room, where an attendant printed a slip of paper with her rankings.

Alright, I did pretty well, despite my horrible accuracy. Alright, next game!!!!

Claire sat down in the waiting area. Another game would be played before she got the chance to play again, so she sat eagerly anticipating.

*****

After finishing her third game, Claire spent the rest of her time at The Castle wandering around, playing a few arcade games, and even taking in a go-kart race. After that, she met up with Jessica and her friends and prepared to take them home.

"So Claire," asked Jessica, "did you have a good night?"

Claire thought quietly.

"Yes. Yes I did."

((Claire Monaghan continued in Real Scientists Fight with Umbrellas))

Turned out, laser tag wasn't easy. It wasn't the kiddie version of paintball. It was, as Adam had first suspected, a farce designed to cater to the completely manic and uncontrolled. This explained, of course, why he had performed terribly.

The little printout told Adam everything he didn't need to know. He checked his gun again, just to make sure that the numbers matched up. It'd be hilarious if it turned out he really had been The Wolf this entire time and just hadn't known it.

Adam was not The Wolf.

He'd probably spent more time out of the game for getting tagged than he had in play. His accuracy was abysmal. Yeah, he'd hit people from time to time, but that was pretty much guaranteed given the steady stream of laser output he'd kept up at all times.

That was okay. Adam was used to losing. He lost stuff all the time. The key was losing with grace. He was fidgeting with his zipper again, so he stopped. Yeah, he wasn't mad. A little embarrassed, maybe. A bunch of girls had handed him his ass in laser tag. He'd taken it a bit too easy.

No reason to pitch a fit. Zip. He could try again next round. On the other hand, Adam had only paid for one round. He didn't really have anything else he had to do here. This had been his relaxation. The game had been a distraction. In that respect, it had functioned admirably. Win or lose, it had gotten his blood pumping, his adrenaline flowing. He'd lost hard, whether or not his team had prevailed, but he'd also had a good time doing so.

That'd be enough. Better to leave feeling good, on a relative high, than to get walloped again. If it was losing horribly Adam was after, well, he could lose horribly for free at something most anywhere in town.

With a smile, he gave those classmates of his who remained after the round a nod, then headed back out into the city.

((Adam Morgan continued in It's not good, Eric. It's a gazebo!))

Dammit. A three-person mutual kill wasn't exactly the result Michael was hoping for, considering that the enemy team ended up benefiting from it. Sure, they took out that crazy girl, but at what cost? AT WHAT COST? They were now officially behind by one K.O. Alright, time to Ring Out the next enemy he found! HE WOULD NOT SUFFER THE DISGRACE OF-

He was interrupted by the flash of light which marked the end of the game. Dammit twice. His team had probably lost. Who'd ever heard of birds, however badass they may be, taking down a group of hardened canines? It was blasphemy, that's what it was. Blasphemy against the god of everything awesome. He'd just have to find the heretics and burn them next round.

In the meantime, though, he checked his results sheet. He had done surprisingly well, especially with accuracy, mostly due to turtling in the corner for most of the game. Hey, whatever works, works. Someone hides in a corner, you throw grenades or send a pack of dogs after them or something. Sure, those might not be options in laser tag, but still! Creativity can find a counter to any strategy!

Maybe this time he'd just wander around the arena. Be a moving target, y'know. Lightning only strikes the same person twice but loves to repeatedly bombard locations and all that. Michael had a feeling that he had gotten that wrong, but he really didn't care. It worked, however much he had twisted it to fit his own purpose. Subvert enemy technology and use it to strengthen yours! That was the Michael Mitchellson way!

Of course, he could hardly call something that would never come up in real life his "way", could he? After all-

And so he spent the remainder of his time at the Castle, alternating between laser tag and tortured similes. After he had used up his time (a full hour of laser tag went by surprisingly quick) he decided that it was about time to go. Michael checked his watch.  Hm, still somewhat early. Maybe he could go bother Daniel at the bookstore, or check out if the game shop has anything interesting. He might just call it a night, after all, he could feel Mass Effect 3 calling out for him...

Go, Shepard, go. You are the Hero of Man. Blow shit up. It's in the job description.

[[Michael Mitchellson: Continued in If You Got it, Ball Out]]

Jessica and her sisters checked the scores after the game. Interestingly enough Jessica at the oldest had done the best. Guess the big kids do have something going for them. A nice piece of sibling rivalry she supposed, being nice about it, but clearly playing better than either of her sisters.

They left the laser tag place and went to play skeeball for a little while. Jessica loved skeeball, it was the best arcade game to ever exist. Rolling the ball at fast speeds to make it fly in the air? It was the best.

Not that her sisters agreed. They had gone off to play air hockey. Whatever, they were close enough by. Jessica put a few dollars worth of tokens into the machine before she was done. Not bad, she had a bad first game, but the rest had gone really well. Clunk clunk clunk.

(Jessica Murphy continued in It's Cold Out Here)

((Sorry guys, I really dragged my ass here))

The game didn't go well, but he figured that from the beginning. As one of the lowest scores, Lars shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. At least it was fun while the games lasted, but unfortunately he didn't get to talk to Clair, but he could catch up with her later.

After walking out of the arcade Lars lit a cigarette, and walked to the bus stop.

((Lars Nylund continued elsewhere))

It.....wasn't that fun.

Clayton had never been more confused or slightly terrified in his life. Flashing lights, loud sounds, and everyone flying around him like demented video game characters.

He panicked. He wasn't even sure if he hit anyone before the game was over. As he hung up his gun, he looked at his score. Judging from the small number, it looked like he had accidentally shot someone he didn't even notice.

Meh. He was better at the arcade floor anyway.

((Clayton Leven continued elsewhere))