Behind the Dorms, Tuesday Afternoon

[puppy_fair]

"Hey, guys!" Zack was all smiles as he stepped in front of the Reserve gathering, today. "Since we got some more of that talking stuff out of the way last week, this week I'm going to get you all doing something a little more hands-on, taking an idea that the Magic Reserves had a while back, and tweaking it a little to better suit our purposes here!"

Because Zack was totally a rotten stealerface. And it had been a good idea.

"The thing you have to keep in mind when you're on the field is that a good bit of your strength often rests in whoever you're out there with. And, taking that a step further, nobody gets left behind. Not just because they're an asset, but because they're our people." Zack managed, barely, to refrain from getting all shmoopy and saying 'friends,' there. "But it's entirely possible that at some point, you're going to find someone trapped behind enemy lines, and it'll be on your shoulders to get them back."

He gestured to a pile of ribbons sitting on the ground, half of them red, and the other half blue. "Take one of these, and put it on your clothing somewhere, so that it'll be easy to snatch off of you. And then I want to break off into two groups according to the color of your ribbon. Each of your teams gets one of these..." He motioned to a pair of stuffed bears sitting on the ground. "They're prisoners. It's your job to infiltrate the enemy's territory, retrieve your lost ally, and then make it home safely. But if anyone from the other team snags your ribbon while you're on their turf? Sorry, guys, you're dead."

... Yeah. They were totally playing 'capture the flag.'

With teddy bears.

IT IS A MANLY SPORT.

[Open!]

The Roof, Tuesday Evening

[wwiii]

The thing about having wings and living on an island where, theoretically, one could walk around with them in plain view without raising a huge fuss was that, sooner or later, one had to get ideas about the whole thing.

And Warren's idea as he stood on the edge of the roof looking out over the island once again was this; That he had wings. That it would be a sin to just keep them bunched up underneath that coat of his for the rest of his life, after leaping out a window in order to keep from losing them in the first place.

And oh, yes. That he could fly. That was the important bit, right there.

That was why this evening, as he made his way up to the roof, he was shrugging out of his coat. Because he'd had these wings since he was just a little kid, and he'd used them twice. Twice. And both times had been more exhilarating than he'd ever imagined they could be, and he wanted more.

Just as soon as he was finished balking at the fact that he was standing on the edge of the roof, and all. Maybe he should have started on the ground?

[Open roof is open! Why not, right?]