KINGSLAYER | o, wt + water balloon fight

[FELIKS]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 60%; font-family: georgial; font-size: 11pt;"]Ok so as it turned out, there were biodegradable water balloons that existed - it just wasn't easy for the lion-bird morph to figure out which plastic bits of tat wouldn't totally screw up the Trickling Falls. Vexing fine prints on the packets that he had collected were a little too miniscule, even for one with a supposed 'eagle eye' (load of rubbish it was, his eyesight was his worse sense), and after minutes of trying to figure it out Feliks had given up. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun, the Ascendants could choke on the waste later for all he cared, he was just sick and tired of moving about. If it seemed odd for a self-proclaimed explorer, that was because his leg was playing up again, the occasional chilly wind reminding him that he couldn't go overboard with travel as the winter approached. Every year he got one step closer to Martyring himself to the weather, with an overwhelming curiosity in this new world Feliks at least had some sense to play safe for a bit. "Hey Ass-sand-ants!" he enunciated his words weirdly, nostrils flaring as he entertained himself.

The area around the puny drinking source seemed littered with water balloons. Large circles of them engulfed several walking spaces, and if members looked hard enough they could find some of the fit-to-burst playthings hidden behind rocks, trees, and other suitable cover. Some balloons didn't have liquid in them though, as shown by the deflated multi-coloured pieces lying about. Feliks himself was sat close to the water's edge, chest puffed up proudly at his ability to handle balloons. Seriously, how many griffons do you know that were hip enough to not completely demolish human items? Hopefully you'd answer that you didn't know a griffon, but moving on. "We gotta water balloon fight going on here. Rule is simple, get each other wet in a non-lecherous manner, it's a game where the only way to win is to not take part! Use cover, fill up empty stuff using the stream, don't get mad if you get teamed up on, and have fun,".

[FELIKS]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 60%; font-family: georgial; font-size: 11pt;"]/ bump !

[ISIDORE.]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; border: 0%;width:60%;text-align:justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 13.5px;"]"Ehhhhh ..." The white serval was left facing the scene of water balloons with a fractured look. Parted lips, eyes widened with concern, and brows uplifted in anticipation. A water balloon fight? It couldn't mean well for him, not with this lot of folks. The group of people that inhabited this place made him worry for his well-being on normal occasions, what with fighting during meetings, getting trapped inside their own homes. But to be in a scenario that was already set to chaotic? He knew he should be playing defense for this one, trying to take initiative would only just get him burned. Or wet, rather. "Righhht ... adieu!" And he was off, ducking and sprinting for the cover of the rocks and caves ahead of him.

Swiftly, carefully, he prowled along the wall of the cavern he hopped down into, peering up at a ledge that trickled in light in an exit above. He could pocket his way in to the corner of the ledge, to get a good view of either side of him, to make sure he wasn't going to get attacked. So he leaped upwards, grasping for the edge of the surface above. And as he lifted himself up, he was sprayed with a blast of water. It seemed as if Feliks had really gotten water balloons everywhere, as Isidore had just gotten himself with one that was hidden on the ledge. Coughing back up the water, he pulled himself all the way up with a grunt. He was losing already- to himself. Mismatched eyes secure the opening of the cave above him, knowing that someone could walk right over and get him from above. So he nestled himself under the awning of the earth, keeping a watchful eye all around himself, simultaneously picking off ribbons of the water balloon from his pelt.

[MOONMADE]

[size=9pt]"Wait, wait!" comes a voice from the entrance to the cave. Moon's slips out from the side of the wall he'd been pressed up to, careful with his movements as he creeps forward. He plays the injured soldier act. "Hold your fire. I'm a walking-wounded. Take it easy on me." says the lion, exaggerating his limp and holding one paw to the side of his head. It's not entirely a lie; the Typhoon left him messy and scarred, but he's high on poppy seeds, and in that moment, the only thing real about his performance is the water balloon he's about to send flying Feliks' way.

In a split second, he picks one up in his sheathed paw and propels it through the air. It's a good shot, and if successful, it would hit the hybrid straight in the beak. Laughter bursting from his maw like a Disney villan, Moon makes a run for shelter-- but he hasn't thought this through; not everything about his injuries can be used to his advantage. He's slow.

— TAGS

[Grimm]

[align=center][div style="width:400px; font-size:8.4pt;line-height:1.1;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]Though a child there had never been a time when a plentiful water source permitted such action, to waste any drinkable water unthinkable for it was a fine line between life and death in the desert. Yet here it was different, the lush green of the landscape speaking of rainfall which proved steady and the land was cut by streams and rivers, offering water as a source of play when the mood struck.

Compared to the other two present Harland held no sense of worry for he held no experience with this, lacking even the skill of swimming, and so approached with curiosity, wanting more to know rather than participate. But then the say was curiosity killed the cat, at least this time there was no end in store, simply an unfortunate surprise. Approaching a balloon he gently touched it, small paw barely able to push the blue plastic down, feeling the liquid within move. A gentle sound of surprise escaped him and he pressed a little harder.

A sudden sharp cry escaped him, touched with fear as the water came splashing out and suddenly he was bolting, a tiny blur of black and white weaving in and out of the balloons set about. He had not expected the sudden rush of water, all too clear in his want to escape though during it he stumbled into more balloons, soft whimpers escaping him as they exploded beneath his paws, left soaking as he diving into a patch of long grass.

[BASTILLEPAW]

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BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS

[b]BY THE GRACE OF THE FIRE AND THE FLAMES

Bastille had a strange relationship with water. At a young age, he couldn't help but to fear it, standing paralyzed before the great expanses of the river flowing through his Clan's territory and being unable to look away as memories crashed over him. He'd lost too many to the icy clutches of water, which was in many ways more frightening than his own drowning; no, drowning was almost peaceful once the mind stopped panicking, and Echo had no fear of death. Bastille could overcome the fear of losing his own life to the waves — it was others he had to worry about. But still, it had taken him time, taken many long hours standing in the shallow water shivering and refusing to move until he could breathe easily and escape the tight noose of panic around his neck. And now it was just... water.

Sometimes, he still got glimmers of those memories in passing, but they seemed reserved to gorges and larger stretches of water, more akin to where he had actually died. Now, he stood back for a moment to regard the chaos of flying water balloons and simply smirked slightly in amusement, gaze flickering to Har as the kitten bolted. Woops. He should probably check on the munchkin later, but first he set his sights on an excellent target: Moon.

Bast contemplated a balloon before launching it deliberately towards the lion, letting it smash against the ground; almost immediately the water shot up before soaking in and splashed all over Moon like an obnoxious missile. Evidently Bast didn't really care that the medic was injured and prone, because he just started laughing.

[B]ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — [color=#e2e2e2]TAGS — [color=#e2e2e2]MOODBOARD — [color=#e2e2e2]PLAYLIST