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Firefly was exceedingly excited, waiting for his surprise. He had been shooting with his papa before and weapons weren't exactly something new to him, but he was always eager to play with new ones and this was an amazing opportunity to get some real hands on training with love targets- something he had never done before.

So, you can imagine his immediate disappointment when he didn't even get a gun. Just some stupid pea shooter or something. He wanted something that went PEW PEW and shot laser beams or something, like the beautiful gun on the table nearby. He wondered if he could just sneak over and trade the weapons, but shook his head of the idea. He had already 'stolen' the sparkling croquet ball from the last game day. He didn't want to risk getting in any more trouble. So the pea shooter it was.

He glanced around, seeing a rather un-intimidating looking Treeko nearby. Zale would be a fair battle. The poochyena and his friends made him really really timid and he didn't think he could win against someone who was passed out, nor one of his own evolutions.

Shyly, he approached Zale, shuffling a foot gently. "U-um..." he mumbled. "would you..um..." He lost his nerve, then lifted the shooter and fired.

[[ HP : 38
Damage : 9
Element : Water. BAD LUCK.
Target : Firefly
Turn : 1 ]]

Zale yelped when he was hit, he hadn't expected that. Neither had he expected the male to suddenly cry out and cover his face. Zale blinked, wincing briefly and teetering on his feet. The Treecko approached Firefly, pulling out darts as he did.

"I'm supposed to defend myself. T-That hurt." He sounded like he was apologizing, raising his little water tube above his head, closing his eyes tightly, and hitting Firefly. He dropped his weapon in seconds, feeling awful, and his eyes surged tears, frantically shaking his head.

"I'm sorry too!" He yelped, offering his hand for the other, face scrunched into a frown, cheeks bright red as his eyes watered. "Does it hurt? I can give you magic to make it better. I'm really sorry. Please don't be sad, I won't do it again."

Logan listened silently, flipping from one page of anatomy to the next. Half of his mind was focused on listening to Isaac talk, the other half on studying the positions and composition, filing it away in his young mind. Sooner or later, all of this would be useful. All of it. "Dangerous to split up...?" he finally asked. He was the wrong one to ask this of; all of the ones he cared for, even himself, were kind of... loners that had somehow found each other. They were designed to be alone, and had to learn how to fit with others. Especially Logan and Jace; Logan was a runner, and that meant that you were faster, quieter, more adaptable alone; you could escape easier.

Not so when you ran with someone else. Like their escape into the library, it meant glances over the shoulder, concern for another, delays. Running alone meant escaping by the last possible inch of your skin, and it didnt' matter as long as you made it. So Logan didn't know what he meant by danger. Danger to him was having to be part of a team.

"The weapons here... this whole game seems to be about breaking us apart," he did admit. Convenient that the rifts which had opened in Hearts had been pulled open further by a Faction whose strength lay in military and weaponry. Force, fight and power. "If you don't go outside, where do you stay?" he asked Isaac, closing the book momentarily to look at the boy.

The voices made Logan's ears lie flat against his head. He was starting to panic again, dropping the book in an instant, stumbling to stand-- and then, in a split second, Logan both eyed Isaac's hand suspiciously, sighed and accepted it, pulling himself to his feet.

He really hated climbing. He tried to follow Isaac, but his foot slipped, and he hit his head on the shelves. Thankfully, they were all padded. Slightly stunned, Logan managed to grapple with the shelves and pull himself through the window. His lungs hurt from fear, his heart was in his throat, and his tail flicked frantically back and forth as though it was trying to escape his own body.

Logan grabbed Isaac's hand without thinking, terrified again-- as they passed Zale, Logan's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth briefly: the boy looked aggressive, and Logan couldn't help his instinct. Logan was not one of the "good guys" as far as Zale was concerned, and he knew that.

But he kept running with Isaac, because Zale didn't attack, and his attention shifted to the florist. "If we get inside, maybe we can bar the door until the game is over?" Logan suggested between breaths.

[[ HP : 25
Damage : 6
Element : Water. WHEEEEEEE.
Target : Firefly
Turn : 2 ]]

Zale yelped as, once again, he was hit. Yet, he didn't mean to hurt Firefly, really, but when he leaned over to try and hug the other he kicked his weapon right into the other. Shocked, he flailed, covering his face as well.

"I didn't mean that! I'm.... so sorry! I-I.... D-didn't.... I'M SORRY." Zale threw himself right at Firefly, wrapping arms around him in an attempt to hug him. He was crying as well, feeling like a horrible monster at this point. How could he do it twice?! And he made him cry!

[[OOC:
Target: Zale
Element: Grass
HP: 30
Damage: 14
Turn 3]

Firefly was wailing at this point. He shivered as he was hugged, yelping and tripping over his tail again as the other hit him AGAIN with that stinging water thing! He didn't like it at all! "S-STOP IT! THAT HURTS!" He wailed, bolting to the other side of the tag pitch, grabbing his little blow dart again.

He stopped and took a few deep breaths, looking at the weapon. Stupid little toy...but he supposed it wouldn't hurt to shoot at some targets. He looked around, then fired a few of the small darts at a spade shaped tip of a fence's bar.

It bounced as if possessed off the tip of the fence, fired wildly back across the pitch and into Zale's backside.


Firefly almost dropped to the ground, his face white, holding himself. How....did...what?

Everything in the florist's was just... padded. Padded everything. Plastic flowers. Logan, as dizzy as he was, undid his tiny belt and looped it around the door handles, belting them together and locking it. With a sigh, he leaned back against one of the padded shelves and buried his head in his arms, tucking his knees against his chest so he could rest against the top of them.

Trying to "talk" to Logan about his reaction to Zale would not go well. Logan was on his best behaviour right now, because he was scared, tired, and hungry. He missed Jace, he missed Ryder, and he didn't want to be in Spades. All of those combined to make him more open to friendship than he would normally be.

Given any other situation, Logan would purposefully be unpleasant, cold and blunt-- it was his defense mechanism, and he would swear by it. If Isaac reminded Logan of his "villain" status, either blatantly or informally, it was possible Logan would shut down altogether. The shiny growlithe, for the time being, was whipping his tail back and forth impatiently as he waited for his heart to stop beating so quickly.

While Isaac had been barricading the doors, Logan just sat there, trying to regain his composure. "I think we'll be okay for now," Logan told him. The Spades guards would probably be livid when they found them next.

"Sit? You're making me nervous," Logan said, his little heart speeding up again.

[[ HP : 34 (oops..)
Damage : 12
Element : Psychic
Target : Bigsby
Turn : 2 ]]

Malo turned at the sudden check, hissing loudly and letting more harmless steam erupt from his ears and nose, showing that he was a little more than pissed off.

NO! This was HIS fight and Bigsby was not about to spoil it for the Litwick. He'd be done with him in a moment, cracking his knuckles, and then it would be time to kick Jace's behind.


"Don't interfere, you-you...you...big dummy! If I could, I'd throw your hat over the fence, you meddling doo-doo head!" He puffed his cheeks, rubbing his arm from the battering it had recieved, and aiming the ribbons at Bigsby now. He too had no scratches, but Malo would be sure to make some.

He sent the tendrils of the ribbon snapping out again, aiming for the Phanpy's arms and legs, the ends snapping and thrashing like serpents, whipping him. Malo did hope it would knock his hat on the ground and into the mud.