Welcome to Gaia! ::

Malo snorted as he was woken from the comfy bouncy safety net. He poked Zale a few times and stripped the green hoody off of his head to trade back. Yawning, he happily accepted the banana and milk. What a....different sort of breakfast. He was used to warm porridge and it took him a few minutes of observation to realize he had to peel the fruit before biting into it.

When the time for the hovercraft came, Malo was half impressed. He had already learned the art of floating but this was the first time he had ridden in something that could touch the ground. But to be completely honest, he mostly just floated around inside it so even that wasn't anything big.

He found Ex very amusing, to be honest. Every time the bug spoke, Malo giggled. He was one of the coolest adults the little litwick had met and he did so wish Preston was more like him.

When they disembarked, Malo was chipper and eager. He drifted from side to side impatiently, then hurried into the first carriage he saw, motioning for Zale to follow but still listening to their well spoken attendant. He had seen Clarence here and there in the castle but he was warned never to bother him, even for questions and not pranks. He was the attendant of the Red Queen.

Though Malo had only seen her from afar or at public events, he knew the queen was the perfect being. Her appearance, the way he had seen her carry herself, the way she ran her faction, the way her eyes shone red even from afar....even thinking of her now made Malo bunch his outfit at the front and fidget with it, his cheeks turning scarlet. And he would be in her presence for two whole days! Well, he hoped at least. Even though he'd not be allowed to touch her, he might be able to speak to her and tell her how truly wonderful he thought she was.

Though Malo preferred to ride on the horses and not in the carriage, he decided he would be on his best behavior today and watched the scenery go by, almost bouncing on his seat from excitement.

As they disembarked, Malo floated around the familiar grounds, eyes shining brightly and hopefully.


~~

Firefly was having a very frustrating day. He had not been able to get free of the canon and had actually spent the whole night with his head firmly wedged inside and his tail and legs sticking out the other end. Though Briar and Issacs' efforts were valient, the dressy Eevee stuck like glue. Firefly had spent more of the night crying or sulking and had got little sleep. Finally one of the breakfast attendants had pulled him out to give him his food, yanking him out by the tail and putting him unceremoniously on the ground. Baffled, with a screaming headache, tired as anything and shaken from the sudden movement, Firelfy just stood with his milk in one hand and the banana in the other for a few minutes.

Finally plopping on his bum, he began to eat, trying not to cry on his food. It was a bit of a struggle, but he managed to get most of the cold banana and milk down, pocketing the leftovers for later. He cheered up a bit as he was filed into the hovercraft, sitting at the very front against the wall and holding his tail. He wondered if the ship had any guns on the side...that would be cool.

He tried to enjoy the tour but it felt short and then they were at the carriages. Instead of worrying about their guide or what they were doing, Firefly was distracted by the horses. Proud, gorgeous beasts who he didn't doubt were strong in battle. He hurried to the biggest one, giggling for the first time as it sniffed and snorted at him. He offered it the last piece of banana and was delighted as it ate.

Suddenly remembering where he was and what to do, the eevee held his tail again and walked into an empty carriage, hoping to remain alone, but that was not the case. He did not make conversation as they passed the sights of Hearts, only interested in the mountains.

When they got out, Firefly held his tail and pouted, sighing deeply. He was even farther from his papa now.

If anybody suffered on the trip between Clubs and Hearts, it was Bigsby. The boy squirmed and tapped his fingers the whole way, looking out windows and over edges with a bit of a desperate look, never really able to pay any attention to the tour due to the restless energy building up in his chest distracting him. Sitting and listening had never been Bigsby's strong suit, and he would give just about anything to be off the damned hovercraft first and then the carriages second. Anything except his hat, he'd already lost a snack on that account and he wouldn't throw the thing away now.

Upon final arrival at the Red Queen's palace, nobody disembarked the transport faster than Bigsby, who instantly hit the ground and rolled about in the grass. His legs kicked out and he made grass-angels, just happy to be on ground that didn't bump and clatter as the carriages did on the road beneath them. He gathered up great armfuls of the verdant, well-manicured lawn and breathed in deep, trying to purge the flat scent of the cabin from his head. Once reacclimated with the world without the cursed carriages, he brushed right over the announcement of tea and croquet for the following day and homed in on the tour-guide's indication of lodgings.

”What'chyez standin' about fer?!” Bigsby exclaimed, looking about among the stationary children. Such polite ninnies, waiting for permission to even move. He caught sight of a boy he was sure he knew, a boy with a toy axe thrown over his shoulder, and pointed his finger.

”'Hoy, you! Let's scrap for the best room! C'mon c'mon! No toys, let's scrap!”

Hey, you!

Kennard turned and looked upon Bigsby with wide curious eyes. A look of recognition soon appeared, but the bear still looked somewhat puzzled. He stared at the other toddler for a very long time before the meaning of the other’s words in his clicked in his mind. Scrap. Some of guards called their practise fights a ‘scrap’. As for his toy… Kennard hummed softly, swinging his toy axe around to rest the blade against the ground. He didn’t like the idea of not using it, but he supposed that was only fair.

A broad, indulgent grin spreading across his face, Kennard carefully placed the axe on the ground, and then stepped over it to face Bigsby. "Okay." He had never fought before and so wasn't sure exactly how to begin.

Malo's eyes brightened when the wonderful hat was presented to him. He knew it was just to hold, but he gently put it on his own head, where it would be safer. "I promise nothing will happen to it and you won't need to bop me again!"

To be honest, he was a little nervous around the phanpy and his boppings. They usually came out of nowhere and stung pretty badly sometimes. He was more delighted in the hat than he was in the fight, twirling with it. He wished it had tapers or some long ends on it, but oh well.

It seemed to be a growing theme, wearing other boy's clothes.

Kennard didn’t have time to react before he had been bowled over by Bigsby. The air was pushed out of his lungs and he gasped. Surprise left him at Bigsby’s mercy for a long moment before his brain finally caught up with what was happening. Scrap, yes, that’s right, it was time to fight. That was okay, Kennard could adapt. This was bonding. Some of the maid’s liked to talk about that.

The Teddiursa grinned and fought back, trying to roll them sideways and angle Bigsby into a headlock.

It was fairly quiet in the guest wing of the Red Queen's estate. However, that was likely because the infants had been taken outside hours ago. Not because they had been kicked out, but because it was tea time soon, and then croquet. A grand game of croquet. The Red Queen had not appeared yet, and Clarence had been fairly preoccupied avoiding all the infants. He really did seem like the mirror image of Maximilian.

Clarence cleared his throat. He had attempted to gather all the infants in the main courtyard of the garden. A fountain spurted behind him, showering the pool with water so bright blue it must have been dyed by someone. "So... essentially, Hearts faction prides itself on the high quality of living for most of its denizens. We worship luxury and law, as led by the Red Queen. Here is her fountain," Clarence finished, gesturing to the fountain. He was about to say "least favourite" fountain, but checked himself, thus forming an extremely strange sentence. The gardens had many, many fountains.

In any case, without warning, he turned on one heel and walked off to the left, where white roses had been planted rather thickly. The blossoms had no scent, sadly, as they had been created not for their smell but rather the abnormally fruitful white blossoms and their sheer size was overwhelming. Clarence had two guards following the procession at all times, ensuring no infants tried to sneak off or pluck too many of the blossoms. Or any, really; the Red Queen would be livid.

Eventually, the white roses gave way to a row of pink on the right, and yellow on the left. The "fun" roses, as the Red Queen had once referred to them. Once. From then on, they were merely ornaments to the Croquet grounds. Which, once the infants were led into a second small courtyard, were a long and very well-kept green space with elaborate trellis-gates no higher than the infants' shins, through which they were expected to play. A throne and a dais decorated the far end of the field. It seemed like whichever infant could get through to the end of the course first would be close enough to the Red Queen to actually say something to her. Maybe.

The Red Queen was led into the yard from the dais end by a knight, followed by a procession of guards and servants. They promptly stood against the rose bushes at the far side while the Knight stood behind her throne, watching. She made some kind of gesture that looked like a permissive wave. Clarence bowed deeply, motioned frantically for all the infants to do the same, and then turned to them.

"You may now begin!" Yeah, he didn't explain how to play. There were croquet mallets lined against one of the hedges, and a series of lovely croquet balls, each one a little different from the last. Infants would have to take turns hitting them through the gates, and hope nobody ruined their chances.

♣║ɠɐϻE ʈ𝔦ϻE▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The Setting: In the morning, the infants were given breakfast in a very large and formal room. Afterwards, they had been led around the gardens by Clarence, introduced to the Red Queen, and finally ... croquet! It sounds like the winner will meet the Red Queen...? This is mainly about speed!

1} Roll 3D8 in your first post.
2} The first D8 determines which croquet ball your infant selects. The two which follow indicate how quickly your infant has completed the course. The closer to a perfect 16 the infant has received, the better they did! Feel free to RP any sabotage you want, if someone gets a low roll!
3} There is no roll match for the 2nd and 3rd D8s; add the two numbers together to get your total, and merely RP it to reflect how close to 16 you got. If you got a 2, the ball probably never even made it through the first gate; if you got a perfect 16, man, you basically managed to line the ball up like a pool shot and get it through more than one gate at a time?! That's cheating!!


xxxxx♣║roll match▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

xx1 :: There was one croquet ball all in black with a really shiny finish. And absolutely nothing special about it. +1 for picking the really boring one, good job. They say a black croquet ball is slimming.
xx2 :: It's translucent glass, with little stars inside... beautiful but it seems like it might be kind of delicate? If your 2nd and 3rd D8s add up to over 10, -4 for hitting the ball too hard and breaking it! If it's under 10, +4 for sheer style, bby.
xx3 :: The ball looks like it's burning the grass under it if it sits still too long. Please to not light the garden on fire. +7 if you get a score over 13 from your second and third D8s! You played fast enough to make sure the ball didn't light things on fire. Awesome.
xx4 :: It's covered in spikes. Seriously, it's a croquet ball covered in metal spikes. Why the hell would you choose that one? -2 for stupidity; that thing isn't rolling anywhere. However, no one can sabotage you! +3 instead of -2 if you get a score under 6.
xx5 :: Just a regular croquet ball. No penalty, no bonus. You're really living it up.
xx6 :: This ball is electric! Look at it shine, man. If you get lost in the garden at night, find this croquet ball. +2 for blinding all your opponents.
xx7 :: You thought you had a croquet ball, you certainly remember picking it up... but it seems to keep disappearing. Ghost croquet ball...? What in the name of the Red Queen is this supposed to be used for. Can you still hit it while it's invisible? +5 for an RP post of 500 words about the intricacies of croquet with a ghost ball.
xx8 :: The Lucky Ball! It's covered in hearts and it just seems to want to win. +5 by default! Lucky you!


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Logan loved Hearts, so far. Clean sheets, and a bed the size of a plush ocean. He couldn't even believe his luck, and sheer joy at being outside of Clubs. If only he could live here forever... but it looked like the Guest Wing was hardly ever used, and the gardens certainly hadn't seen so many tiny feet ever.

Croquet was next on their list. Logan, enjoying his time in Hearts, went right over and picked up the Hearts ball. Mainly, despite the fact they really should be interacting with each other, Logan was keeping to himself. Where the hell was Jace? Or that weird blue-haired kid he'd seen eat a timbit off the ground. Ew.

At least he got one of the nice croquet balls. Logan watched the field, tail flicking, and aimed his first shot. The boy was okay at it, really; nothing amazing, but thankfully his lucky ball did the trick.

[[OOC:
Ball: The Lucky Ball; +5 to score.
Score: 6+3 = 9 + bonus = 14. ]]

Bigsby had ended up sleeping on the floor. After rolling about on the ground in the scuffle with Kennard, he decided that the plush grass was as good a bed as any, and without all the heavy bedsheets in the rooms that he'd just end up kicking onto the floor. Upon walking away from the scrap with a grin and a few fresh stains on his knees, Bigsby had taken back his hat from Malo with little ceremony and was sprawled out on the grass, snoring through an open mouth, his hat laid upon his chest. With all his energy spent on scrappin', he slept clean through tea.

–

A groundskeeper poked Bigsby awake with his toe, and motioned for Bigsby to fall in behind the stuffy tour guide, and soon he was standing with the rest of the infants on the greenery that made up the playing field for a game Bigsby had never played before. A second of watching, though, and Bigsby was ready to grab a mallet and give it a try.

The boy selected a mallet and a rather plain ball and placed it upon the ground. As he stared amongst the various gates, something about the game started to make sense, and the various gears began to turn. His eyes flicked rapidly from post to post, drawing a course that took ricochet into account, as well as the force he'd have to put in. Bigsby lifted the mallet with a righteous motion, and began the descent, his mind burning with the clarity of understanding. And just as he was about to touch the ball... the picture of it dimmed, the sense started becoming nonsense, and Bigsby's grip faltered, just the slightest.

And it was a good hit, all things considered. He almost managed to keep it on the more enlightened course, and it bounced through one, two, three... four... five gates... until the slight deviation from course started to kick in, and the ball ricocheted in the wrong direction. Namely, Bigsby's direction. With the slowed perception of time that comes when a ball flies at one's face, Bigsby watched as the colorful ball spun, spun, spun... and collided.

Bigsby fell flat on his back, out cold for a while more.

[ Ball: 5 :: Ordinary Ball
2 + 6 = 8
Bonus: 0
Total: 8 points ]