The Fool's War II
File #2: Who Needs Chivalry When You Have A Monster Slingshot?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer--No, I do not own the main characters, but the accessories, yes. And the imagination that put this together--but there's no way any amount of suing can get you that, so HA! Some of the characters are Gundam Wing's, not mine (Bansai and Sunrise, however the guys with the rights call themselves), but Val is definitely original. I do this for fun, or I wouldn't be in grad school trying to get a more paying job!
Notes: it hints slight 6x9, but that could just be wishful thinking. Part of a grouping I'm calling "Reunion Days", which means it can be a sidefic to anything, being but snippets of the two during quieter moments (heh heh-- quiet, surrrrre). . . from the point of the poor Alumni Committee leader for the Graduating Class of AC 191 of Lake Victoria. Humor more than anything else. . .
I couldn't resist.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now there are some simple rules of courtesy for April Fool's that nobody ever mentions but seem to be inherently ingrained in the holiday itself.
One is that you do not carry the grudge past April Fool's Day.
Another is no low blows.
And another is that you have to be present in person.
Knowing the valedictorian of the Class of AC 191, I breathed a sigh of relief once midnight passed and I found that both I and the photos from Noin's wild rigging of the boys' dorms' water systems were still intact.
Obviously, though, I didn't know Zechs at all. . .
Yeah, well, only Noin probably did!
Not that knowing helped /her/ at all. . .
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Zechs brought binoculars up to his sunglasses, gazing through them out into the shivering heat of the Lake Victoria Academy parking lot in the baking afternoon sun. He blatantly ignored the hot uniform, the burning heat of the tar-and-gravel roof of the science building threatening to barbecue his feet even through thick boots, the impatient rustling of restless recruits behind him. . . //Patience. . . Patience is a virtue. . . Patience is a small price to pay for her making the fire-sprinklers blast hot and cold water alternately like that. . . Patience be hanged! When the hell are they leaving that damn dorm?!?//
It was a Friday night. Officially, on the campus, "Girls' Night Out" was /every/ Friday night. And, being the day after the whole lot of the female species on campus had jury-rigged that nightmare in the boys' dorm under Noin's discrete leadership, they had plenty to celebrate.
The boys had convened on park benches outside their dorm, waiting to dry off and in various states of undress, to come up with a plan. A fair amount of arguing had broken out, with vows towards leveling the girls' dorm building in various ways, but as most of the suggestions involved leveling the rest of Lake Victoria and at times the nearest towns with it, that idea was discarded.
Then, the quiet but shaking with anger valedictorian had proposed reciprocating along the same lines as their own tragedy, and caught every ear towards this, his plan. . .
It involved steel poles and stakes, chalk, hooks, water, binoculars, walkie- talkies, an improvised measurement scale, large rubber bands, small tires, woven baskets, and balloons. /And/ some discrete practicing in the middle of the desert during lunch.
//Too bad all wars can't be fought this way. It's terribly fun, and mostly harmless,// Zechs decided with a twinge of pride, a slight smirk tugging his lips as he continued surveying the parking lot. Behind him and to one side, and likewise on neighboring rooftops, equipment was all set up and ready, waiting, with people standing steady beside them, ready for action. //Noin, you will regret your decision!// he vowed silently, eyes narrowing. . .
And focused on her favorite means of transportation: her motorcycle.
Just as he tended to lead the boys, she tended to lead the girls. And Zechs had every intention of taking advantage of that fact when making her reconsider the wisdom of her earlier leadership.
The doors opened, and laughing, murmuring girls poured out of the building to the right, calling to each other as they made for various vehicles in the lot in groups or pairs, intent on organizing how to get to their favorite watering-holes and hangouts in the nearby town.
//About time!// Without lowering his binoculars, Zechs lifted his radio and pressed the button down calmly despite his rising adrenaline. "Prepare ballistics," he commanded softly.
Behind him, dorm-mates scurried into a flurry of activity, loading a basket, drawing it back and hooking it into place.
Icy blue eyes narrowed at Noin's bike, and carefully calculated the distance, the lack of wind, the difference in height compared to their current position. . .
//You know, Physics Class actually has a purpose in life, I think. . .//
"Station Two, do you have the white Corsica targeted?"
Static crackled. "Roger."
"Station Three--the red Mustang, if you will."
"Yes Sir!"
"Station Four, take the red Jeep in the back row."
"Aye, Captain!"
"Station Five, the blue BMW roadster, and yes, I mean the convertible that's open."
Wicked chuckles echoed on the roof behind him as well as through the static. "Will do!"
"Station Six, keep that white van clear."
"You can count on us, Sir!"
"The rest of you--take everyone else down. . . except for Miss Noin. Leave her to us."
A chorus of amused laughs and affirmatives answered him, even as he lowered the radio again, bringing binoculars down with it, and turned to look at his own team.
//My first command. . . Don't let me down, boys!// Seeing all at ready, he nodded his approval, and smiled a little at their eager, proud grins, the sweat-soaked uniforms and nervous tapping of feet and hands, the excitement gleaming in young, innocent (not for long!) eyes. . . "Leave the special ammo until I call for it. Setting--three fingers down, one step left, three steps back, but be ready to change quickly. Any questions before we start?"
Nods answered him, followed by widening grins as the equipment adjusted almost instantly to his specifications.
With a smile of his own, Zechs turned back to the parking lot, binoculars up, and lifted the radio again. "First volley is together, then each at his own pace. On three, boys--then we give 'em what they deserve!" he commanded eagerly.
"Yes Sir!" the chorus returned.
Ah yes, Noin was almost there. . .
//She's never going to forgive me for this. . . She loves that thing like a child. . .//
"Ready."
Hooks were removed from where they held rubber bands in place, replaced by straining fingers and heels digging into the rough roof surface hard enough to leave marks.
Ten feet. . .
//If it ends up scratched or dinged, my hide will probably match by nightfall. . .//
"Aim. . ."
Final adjustments, mostly fine-tuning for perfect aim, were made at a couple stations. The rest held steady, waiting.
//Hell, my hide's already marked--my left side is still scalded red by those hot gusts of water, and the rest of me is going to be black and blue for the rest of the month! This does NOT compare in any way to that!//
Three feet. Noin was reaching for the handlebars.
Zechs Marquise smirked mischievously.
//I haven't forgiven /her/. So we'll be even.//
"FIRE!!!!!!!!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---
Well, for me, it wasn't as bad as for others.
My Corsica needed a wash anyway.
/I/, however, did not!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----
A huge water-balloon smashed into Noin just as she was swinging her leg to mount her bike, sending both crashing to the pavement in a sudden wave of water!
Screams of surprise, horror, and fury arose all over the parking lot as the girls were bombed by drenching ammunition by the ton, almost literally. Cars were almost wiped clean by the onslaught. People were bowled completely off their feet by the heavy--but not physically harmful-- attacks.
Zechs smiled.
//Ah, the element of surprise. But really, did they /really/ think we were just going to take that lying down? I'm probably the /only/ pacifist on this campus, after all, even if in secret--so even /I/ can hardly let their attack pass!//
Then new military skills were called into play. . .
On /both/ sides!
Girls ducked behind vehicles, using them as shields, weaving between them for cover, even as Val tried to rescue the (luckily waterproof) schoolbag with the photos of their misadventures and Noin struggled to untangle herself from her beloved bike.
//Hmm. . . Have to adjust the distance a bit.// "Station Two--aim for the bag!"
Zechs lowered his radio, and barked to his own team, "/Four/ fingers down, one step left, three back--FIRE!" all without a pause for breath.
Snap. Shuffle. /Twwwaaaannng!/
Noin screeched in fury, knocked flat by another water-balloon just as she was getting to her feet!
//She'll take cover next,// he predicted, relaying his next order even before finishing the thought, the calculations already completed in the back of his head. "Seven fingers down, two steps left, two-and-a-half back- -FIRE!"
Noin rolled behind the trunk of a neighboring Ford Taurus just in time to get smacked from high above by another water-balloon!
//Heh. Good old Noin.// Zechs Marquise smirked, and repeated the command.
Another shriek announced that Noin hadn't managed to crawl quite out of the way fast enough.
//Now, for my next target, while she's pinned. . .// Zechs lowered his binoculars, and smiled slowly at the open window of Noin's dorm room. //To repay the ruin of my room. . .//
"Yellow ammo! Five fingers down, four steps /right/, two steps back-- FIRE!"
The bright red balloon arced nicely right over the sill and splattered with an audible, wet snapping sound as thin rubber met the floor and burst.
Noin peeked over the trunk of the Ford Taurus, curious and concerned by the sound.
//She won't know until later, however. . . ,// Zechs knew, feeling smug.
Before she could move from her protection, however, Zechs re-corrected the angle and trajectory, and had another couple volleys sent to drench her again.
//Now, for the bike again. . . something special. The lime green, I think,// the valedictorian of AC 191 decided with all the eager finesse of a wine connoisseur picking the right beverage for dinner. //If it's worth doing at all, it's worth doing right the first time!//
"Green ammo!" he snapped sharply, "Three fingers down, one step left, three steps back!"
Noin must have felt some kind of trepidation concerning the brief pause it took for his men to load the different water-balloons, because Zechs saw her head peek around the rear bumper of the car warily, looking directly at them.
And he heard her bellow his name with such carrying volume as to make their drill sergeant proud.
"ZECHS!!!"
//Yes. Who else, my dear?// the young man chuckled softly to himself.
"FIRE!"
The green water-balloon floated gently through the air like a spray-painted goose, and laid its egg squarely in the middle of Noin's favorite, much- loved, painstakingly-restored 1918 ex-World-War-I German motorbike.
The bike turned bright green, covered with military-issue lime-green paint.
"NOOOO!!!!!" Noin wailed.
"Good shot," Zechs commented to his crew with calm sincerity, unphased by the vocal fury below their perch. //Perfect hit!//
"Zechs, I'm going to /kill/ you!!!" Noin was standing over her green bike with hands balled into fists, waving one at him in particular.
//You have to reach me first, Noin. . . You look nice, actually, even soggy like a drowned cat. . . // But the next order of business was to organize a safe retreat that would spare the lives of his men.
The young officer lifted his radio to lips again. "Begin the retreat! Fire all remaining ammo and dismantle the slingshots--leave NOTHING! And do not get caught! We rendezvous in Hanger A in thirty minutes!" he barked, leaving no room for error.
In response, all slingshots filled baskets to the brim and loosed indiscriminately on the parking lot below. Any progress by furious girls below dragged to a halt under the ensuing bombardment.
"RED AMMO!" Zechs roared, calling for the final--and worst--weapon in his arsenal. "Six fingers down, half-a-step left, two back!"
Noin had leapt to her feet and was now running between cars for the building Zechs stood on, dodging like a wild creature under aerial attack, head down and determined, her expression promising an unhappy ending should she catch any of the culprits responsible for this unexpected assault in the parking lot.
//I may have to buy the others time. . . But will I survive her anger?// Zechs wondered fatalistically.
He waited until she had to run between a Plymouth Neon and a restored maroon Camero, then commanded, "FIRE!"
Noin's next dodge was smack into the path of the red balloon--it splattered on her shoulders, staggering her, coating her with slimy, watery, neon- green glop!
She slid to a halt, lifting slimy hands with incredulous dismay and horror, then looked up, directly at the young man with long pale hair, and set slimy hands on hips, glaring.
//That seems to have stopped her anger,// Zechs chuckled to himself silently. He smiled down at her smugly, sunglasses gleaming in the bright afternoon light, even as he snapped his next command. "Dismantle and go. I'll find you at the rendezvous point. . ."
"Noin's got to be pretty pissed," one of his crew commented sympathetically, the others nodding in agreement even as they hastily pulled the supporting and locking steel rods from the roof and unhooked the launching rubber, eyeing the door to the stairwell warily, as if expecting her to bust in on them at any second.
"I'll take care of her. Get out of here!"
"Yes Sir!" With that, they fled.
Zechs followed them down at a slightly slower pace, and stopped behind the Science building, arms folded across his chest, to wait. . .
//I am responsible. Let's see where this takes us. . .//
He didn't have to wait long.
Noin stormed out of the building, and stopped at the sight of him, her uniform soaked with slimy goo so it looked as if some kind of oversized strange goose egg had cracked right over her head.
"You. . . !" she growled.
Zechs nodded serenely. "Yes," he acknowledged. //But of course.//
Her teeth ground audibly. "If my bike is so much as /scratched/. . . !" she threatened.
Internally, he chuckled again. //If it is? You can hardly scald me there again. I already hurt like hell.// But he was her friend--and she was his best friend. . . his only true friend, except, perhaps, for Treize. "I'll pay for it," he offered without a second thought. "But we're even now."
Noin's bright, usually-warm eyes blinked at him, anger draining out of them as if he'd pulled the plug on it. Then she smiled. "Almost," she corrected quietly.
A pale eyebrow quirked at her. //I don't like the sound of that. . . But then, she hasn't seen her room yet, either.// "Almost?" he echoed, lips twitching into a slight smile.
Noin slowly walked closer. . .
Closer. . .
Right up to him. . .
And /hugged/ Zechs.
//So much for my uniform,// he laughed to himself, arms hesitantly, awkwardly wrapping around her in reciprocation of the gesture, ignoring how the slime on her uniform mixed with the sweat on his own. //That's another ruined uniform, I guess. . . But this is worth it!//
Noin smiled up at him from in his arms, laughing softly. "/Now/ we're even. . ."
//Yes,// Zechs answered gently, looking down at her, feeling a warmth stir in his heart that he hadn't felt in a long time, a warmth he had thought might never be his again. "Until /next/ year," he added with a warm smirk.
Noin laughed with him this time. . .
They were still like that when the Val snapped their photo with a water- proofed camera.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -
You never know how luck will turn out, I think.
I love the local souvenir shop in Lake Victoria, though--they're SO good to me!
After all, if they hadn't run out of loose film and the other snap-and- pitch cameras there that day, and forced me to get a water-proof Kodak snapper, I'd never have managed to record anything of that event!
Well, after that, you can bet I've demanded that all other future conspiracies have someone documenting them from the inside.
Since then, you'd be amazed at the high compliance!
And also, it's probably a good thing that I've made sure I'm VERY good at running since Noin's attack on the boys' dorm. . .
I swear, those two are so picture-shy it's frightening! At least for the photographer.
**Cheshire-cat smiles.** You just have to make sure they don't catch you!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
That's it--for now, on the pranks at least! Might be more sometime, but not soon. Hope you enjoyed it. Let me know if you did! Encouragement helps!
File #2: Who Needs Chivalry When You Have A Monster Slingshot?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer--No, I do not own the main characters, but the accessories, yes. And the imagination that put this together--but there's no way any amount of suing can get you that, so HA! Some of the characters are Gundam Wing's, not mine (Bansai and Sunrise, however the guys with the rights call themselves), but Val is definitely original. I do this for fun, or I wouldn't be in grad school trying to get a more paying job!
Notes: it hints slight 6x9, but that could just be wishful thinking. Part of a grouping I'm calling "Reunion Days", which means it can be a sidefic to anything, being but snippets of the two during quieter moments (heh heh-- quiet, surrrrre). . . from the point of the poor Alumni Committee leader for the Graduating Class of AC 191 of Lake Victoria. Humor more than anything else. . .
I couldn't resist.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now there are some simple rules of courtesy for April Fool's that nobody ever mentions but seem to be inherently ingrained in the holiday itself.
One is that you do not carry the grudge past April Fool's Day.
Another is no low blows.
And another is that you have to be present in person.
Knowing the valedictorian of the Class of AC 191, I breathed a sigh of relief once midnight passed and I found that both I and the photos from Noin's wild rigging of the boys' dorms' water systems were still intact.
Obviously, though, I didn't know Zechs at all. . .
Yeah, well, only Noin probably did!
Not that knowing helped /her/ at all. . .
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Zechs brought binoculars up to his sunglasses, gazing through them out into the shivering heat of the Lake Victoria Academy parking lot in the baking afternoon sun. He blatantly ignored the hot uniform, the burning heat of the tar-and-gravel roof of the science building threatening to barbecue his feet even through thick boots, the impatient rustling of restless recruits behind him. . . //Patience. . . Patience is a virtue. . . Patience is a small price to pay for her making the fire-sprinklers blast hot and cold water alternately like that. . . Patience be hanged! When the hell are they leaving that damn dorm?!?//
It was a Friday night. Officially, on the campus, "Girls' Night Out" was /every/ Friday night. And, being the day after the whole lot of the female species on campus had jury-rigged that nightmare in the boys' dorm under Noin's discrete leadership, they had plenty to celebrate.
The boys had convened on park benches outside their dorm, waiting to dry off and in various states of undress, to come up with a plan. A fair amount of arguing had broken out, with vows towards leveling the girls' dorm building in various ways, but as most of the suggestions involved leveling the rest of Lake Victoria and at times the nearest towns with it, that idea was discarded.
Then, the quiet but shaking with anger valedictorian had proposed reciprocating along the same lines as their own tragedy, and caught every ear towards this, his plan. . .
It involved steel poles and stakes, chalk, hooks, water, binoculars, walkie- talkies, an improvised measurement scale, large rubber bands, small tires, woven baskets, and balloons. /And/ some discrete practicing in the middle of the desert during lunch.
//Too bad all wars can't be fought this way. It's terribly fun, and mostly harmless,// Zechs decided with a twinge of pride, a slight smirk tugging his lips as he continued surveying the parking lot. Behind him and to one side, and likewise on neighboring rooftops, equipment was all set up and ready, waiting, with people standing steady beside them, ready for action. //Noin, you will regret your decision!// he vowed silently, eyes narrowing. . .
And focused on her favorite means of transportation: her motorcycle.
Just as he tended to lead the boys, she tended to lead the girls. And Zechs had every intention of taking advantage of that fact when making her reconsider the wisdom of her earlier leadership.
The doors opened, and laughing, murmuring girls poured out of the building to the right, calling to each other as they made for various vehicles in the lot in groups or pairs, intent on organizing how to get to their favorite watering-holes and hangouts in the nearby town.
//About time!// Without lowering his binoculars, Zechs lifted his radio and pressed the button down calmly despite his rising adrenaline. "Prepare ballistics," he commanded softly.
Behind him, dorm-mates scurried into a flurry of activity, loading a basket, drawing it back and hooking it into place.
Icy blue eyes narrowed at Noin's bike, and carefully calculated the distance, the lack of wind, the difference in height compared to their current position. . .
//You know, Physics Class actually has a purpose in life, I think. . .//
"Station Two, do you have the white Corsica targeted?"
Static crackled. "Roger."
"Station Three--the red Mustang, if you will."
"Yes Sir!"
"Station Four, take the red Jeep in the back row."
"Aye, Captain!"
"Station Five, the blue BMW roadster, and yes, I mean the convertible that's open."
Wicked chuckles echoed on the roof behind him as well as through the static. "Will do!"
"Station Six, keep that white van clear."
"You can count on us, Sir!"
"The rest of you--take everyone else down. . . except for Miss Noin. Leave her to us."
A chorus of amused laughs and affirmatives answered him, even as he lowered the radio again, bringing binoculars down with it, and turned to look at his own team.
//My first command. . . Don't let me down, boys!// Seeing all at ready, he nodded his approval, and smiled a little at their eager, proud grins, the sweat-soaked uniforms and nervous tapping of feet and hands, the excitement gleaming in young, innocent (not for long!) eyes. . . "Leave the special ammo until I call for it. Setting--three fingers down, one step left, three steps back, but be ready to change quickly. Any questions before we start?"
Nods answered him, followed by widening grins as the equipment adjusted almost instantly to his specifications.
With a smile of his own, Zechs turned back to the parking lot, binoculars up, and lifted the radio again. "First volley is together, then each at his own pace. On three, boys--then we give 'em what they deserve!" he commanded eagerly.
"Yes Sir!" the chorus returned.
Ah yes, Noin was almost there. . .
//She's never going to forgive me for this. . . She loves that thing like a child. . .//
"Ready."
Hooks were removed from where they held rubber bands in place, replaced by straining fingers and heels digging into the rough roof surface hard enough to leave marks.
Ten feet. . .
//If it ends up scratched or dinged, my hide will probably match by nightfall. . .//
"Aim. . ."
Final adjustments, mostly fine-tuning for perfect aim, were made at a couple stations. The rest held steady, waiting.
//Hell, my hide's already marked--my left side is still scalded red by those hot gusts of water, and the rest of me is going to be black and blue for the rest of the month! This does NOT compare in any way to that!//
Three feet. Noin was reaching for the handlebars.
Zechs Marquise smirked mischievously.
//I haven't forgiven /her/. So we'll be even.//
"FIRE!!!!!!!!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---
Well, for me, it wasn't as bad as for others.
My Corsica needed a wash anyway.
/I/, however, did not!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----
A huge water-balloon smashed into Noin just as she was swinging her leg to mount her bike, sending both crashing to the pavement in a sudden wave of water!
Screams of surprise, horror, and fury arose all over the parking lot as the girls were bombed by drenching ammunition by the ton, almost literally. Cars were almost wiped clean by the onslaught. People were bowled completely off their feet by the heavy--but not physically harmful-- attacks.
Zechs smiled.
//Ah, the element of surprise. But really, did they /really/ think we were just going to take that lying down? I'm probably the /only/ pacifist on this campus, after all, even if in secret--so even /I/ can hardly let their attack pass!//
Then new military skills were called into play. . .
On /both/ sides!
Girls ducked behind vehicles, using them as shields, weaving between them for cover, even as Val tried to rescue the (luckily waterproof) schoolbag with the photos of their misadventures and Noin struggled to untangle herself from her beloved bike.
//Hmm. . . Have to adjust the distance a bit.// "Station Two--aim for the bag!"
Zechs lowered his radio, and barked to his own team, "/Four/ fingers down, one step left, three back--FIRE!" all without a pause for breath.
Snap. Shuffle. /Twwwaaaannng!/
Noin screeched in fury, knocked flat by another water-balloon just as she was getting to her feet!
//She'll take cover next,// he predicted, relaying his next order even before finishing the thought, the calculations already completed in the back of his head. "Seven fingers down, two steps left, two-and-a-half back- -FIRE!"
Noin rolled behind the trunk of a neighboring Ford Taurus just in time to get smacked from high above by another water-balloon!
//Heh. Good old Noin.// Zechs Marquise smirked, and repeated the command.
Another shriek announced that Noin hadn't managed to crawl quite out of the way fast enough.
//Now, for my next target, while she's pinned. . .// Zechs lowered his binoculars, and smiled slowly at the open window of Noin's dorm room. //To repay the ruin of my room. . .//
"Yellow ammo! Five fingers down, four steps /right/, two steps back-- FIRE!"
The bright red balloon arced nicely right over the sill and splattered with an audible, wet snapping sound as thin rubber met the floor and burst.
Noin peeked over the trunk of the Ford Taurus, curious and concerned by the sound.
//She won't know until later, however. . . ,// Zechs knew, feeling smug.
Before she could move from her protection, however, Zechs re-corrected the angle and trajectory, and had another couple volleys sent to drench her again.
//Now, for the bike again. . . something special. The lime green, I think,// the valedictorian of AC 191 decided with all the eager finesse of a wine connoisseur picking the right beverage for dinner. //If it's worth doing at all, it's worth doing right the first time!//
"Green ammo!" he snapped sharply, "Three fingers down, one step left, three steps back!"
Noin must have felt some kind of trepidation concerning the brief pause it took for his men to load the different water-balloons, because Zechs saw her head peek around the rear bumper of the car warily, looking directly at them.
And he heard her bellow his name with such carrying volume as to make their drill sergeant proud.
"ZECHS!!!"
//Yes. Who else, my dear?// the young man chuckled softly to himself.
"FIRE!"
The green water-balloon floated gently through the air like a spray-painted goose, and laid its egg squarely in the middle of Noin's favorite, much- loved, painstakingly-restored 1918 ex-World-War-I German motorbike.
The bike turned bright green, covered with military-issue lime-green paint.
"NOOOO!!!!!" Noin wailed.
"Good shot," Zechs commented to his crew with calm sincerity, unphased by the vocal fury below their perch. //Perfect hit!//
"Zechs, I'm going to /kill/ you!!!" Noin was standing over her green bike with hands balled into fists, waving one at him in particular.
//You have to reach me first, Noin. . . You look nice, actually, even soggy like a drowned cat. . . // But the next order of business was to organize a safe retreat that would spare the lives of his men.
The young officer lifted his radio to lips again. "Begin the retreat! Fire all remaining ammo and dismantle the slingshots--leave NOTHING! And do not get caught! We rendezvous in Hanger A in thirty minutes!" he barked, leaving no room for error.
In response, all slingshots filled baskets to the brim and loosed indiscriminately on the parking lot below. Any progress by furious girls below dragged to a halt under the ensuing bombardment.
"RED AMMO!" Zechs roared, calling for the final--and worst--weapon in his arsenal. "Six fingers down, half-a-step left, two back!"
Noin had leapt to her feet and was now running between cars for the building Zechs stood on, dodging like a wild creature under aerial attack, head down and determined, her expression promising an unhappy ending should she catch any of the culprits responsible for this unexpected assault in the parking lot.
//I may have to buy the others time. . . But will I survive her anger?// Zechs wondered fatalistically.
He waited until she had to run between a Plymouth Neon and a restored maroon Camero, then commanded, "FIRE!"
Noin's next dodge was smack into the path of the red balloon--it splattered on her shoulders, staggering her, coating her with slimy, watery, neon- green glop!
She slid to a halt, lifting slimy hands with incredulous dismay and horror, then looked up, directly at the young man with long pale hair, and set slimy hands on hips, glaring.
//That seems to have stopped her anger,// Zechs chuckled to himself silently. He smiled down at her smugly, sunglasses gleaming in the bright afternoon light, even as he snapped his next command. "Dismantle and go. I'll find you at the rendezvous point. . ."
"Noin's got to be pretty pissed," one of his crew commented sympathetically, the others nodding in agreement even as they hastily pulled the supporting and locking steel rods from the roof and unhooked the launching rubber, eyeing the door to the stairwell warily, as if expecting her to bust in on them at any second.
"I'll take care of her. Get out of here!"
"Yes Sir!" With that, they fled.
Zechs followed them down at a slightly slower pace, and stopped behind the Science building, arms folded across his chest, to wait. . .
//I am responsible. Let's see where this takes us. . .//
He didn't have to wait long.
Noin stormed out of the building, and stopped at the sight of him, her uniform soaked with slimy goo so it looked as if some kind of oversized strange goose egg had cracked right over her head.
"You. . . !" she growled.
Zechs nodded serenely. "Yes," he acknowledged. //But of course.//
Her teeth ground audibly. "If my bike is so much as /scratched/. . . !" she threatened.
Internally, he chuckled again. //If it is? You can hardly scald me there again. I already hurt like hell.// But he was her friend--and she was his best friend. . . his only true friend, except, perhaps, for Treize. "I'll pay for it," he offered without a second thought. "But we're even now."
Noin's bright, usually-warm eyes blinked at him, anger draining out of them as if he'd pulled the plug on it. Then she smiled. "Almost," she corrected quietly.
A pale eyebrow quirked at her. //I don't like the sound of that. . . But then, she hasn't seen her room yet, either.// "Almost?" he echoed, lips twitching into a slight smile.
Noin slowly walked closer. . .
Closer. . .
Right up to him. . .
And /hugged/ Zechs.
//So much for my uniform,// he laughed to himself, arms hesitantly, awkwardly wrapping around her in reciprocation of the gesture, ignoring how the slime on her uniform mixed with the sweat on his own. //That's another ruined uniform, I guess. . . But this is worth it!//
Noin smiled up at him from in his arms, laughing softly. "/Now/ we're even. . ."
//Yes,// Zechs answered gently, looking down at her, feeling a warmth stir in his heart that he hadn't felt in a long time, a warmth he had thought might never be his again. "Until /next/ year," he added with a warm smirk.
Noin laughed with him this time. . .
They were still like that when the Val snapped their photo with a water- proofed camera.
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You never know how luck will turn out, I think.
I love the local souvenir shop in Lake Victoria, though--they're SO good to me!
After all, if they hadn't run out of loose film and the other snap-and- pitch cameras there that day, and forced me to get a water-proof Kodak snapper, I'd never have managed to record anything of that event!
Well, after that, you can bet I've demanded that all other future conspiracies have someone documenting them from the inside.
Since then, you'd be amazed at the high compliance!
And also, it's probably a good thing that I've made sure I'm VERY good at running since Noin's attack on the boys' dorm. . .
I swear, those two are so picture-shy it's frightening! At least for the photographer.
**Cheshire-cat smiles.** You just have to make sure they don't catch you!
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That's it--for now, on the pranks at least! Might be more sometime, but not soon. Hope you enjoyed it. Let me know if you did! Encouragement helps!