fandomhighdorms | Behind the Dorms, Tuesday... Morning

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Behind the Dorms, Tuesday... Morning

It was morning, which meant it was time to set up for the reserve, check through potential exercises, and possibly get a run in after. There was just something about going through these motions that always calmed that part of Arthur that was still screaming incessantly about everything being wrong, out of sync, off-balance; a warped version of normality, but still as close to it as things at Fandom ever got.

This was about to be rudely interrupted by the giant tomato.

It rolled towards him, almost idly, as he worked. Rolled closer. Rolled yet closer. And then--

Arthur's blade flashed, slicing it in half, then into thirds, fifths, eights. Only then did it lie quiet. "What in the--"

There was a rolling noise. He looked up to find the cabbages rolling towards the back of the dorms. "Oh, you have got to be joking!" Well, he thought, as he punched in a message to whatever reserve members he could think of to alert, at least the island is giving us the option of Merlin being even remotely useful.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket, and looked to the sky for confirmation as he redrew his sword.

[[ this will be your reserve post for the day. AKA open! ]]

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Kennedy was still in too much of a good mood from yesterday to do things like oh, say, carefully read the message she'd gotten on her phone. She'd skimmed just enough to get the sense that something was attacking, which had been enough for her. Something was going down? She was off to the weapons locker, and then she was throwing herself out the doors onto the grounds with her crossbow and a quiver of bolts slung across her chest, a sword in one hand (hey, Kenn, cumbersome much? had not occurred to her in her enthusiasm), and a far-too-eager grin on her face.

A grin that dissolved into pure unadulterated WTF?!?!!!?! the second she found herself face to, uh, well, stalk with an oversized bunch of rhubarb stalks.

"Oh, come on," she complained, and oh, now the bitchfest was going to be on.

...well, she was armed. Plus the rhubarb was lurching toward her with a distinctly what-the-hell-vegetables-shouldn't-do-that-seriously threatening gait, or vague semblance thereof.

Rolling her eyes, Kennedy wrapped both hands around the hilt of her sword and started hacking. It wasn't pretty, but that rhubarb was going to be pie-filling sized really soon now purely out of her annoyance that she FINALLY GOT TO FIGHT SOMETHING AND IT WAS VEGETABLES. Seriously, Fandom, WHAT THE HELL.

"Focus on the fight!" Arthur ordered, ignoring the fact that he'd been at Oh COME ON only a bare few minutes previous. "Some of them are enormous."

Like the tomato currently rolling up towards Arthur. Oh, for God's sakes.

"We're--" Kennedy swung her sword down in a clumsy overhand arc that split the last rhubarb stalk in two with a loud, crisp crunch. Out of all the times she'd heard her Watcher warn her that her opponent might be fresher than her, she was pretty sure this hadn't been what Constance meant. "--defending the dorms from dinner, you do realize this, right?"

Then there was a charging cauliflower that cut off the next part of her rant, and God, was that ever a waste of a crossbow bolt, if you asked her.

Listen, there was only one person here who got to as much as think snark. Or at least voice it aloud. To keep up morale. "It doesn't matter what we're defending it from!" he called, "Be glad it isn't alligators, and keep moving!"

Tchah. Kennedy was going to think snark as much as she damn well wanted, and voice it aloud, so there. Yeah. What was he gonna do, stop her?

Oh, Kennedy. Don't let your narrative ask these things.

"Alligators have faces, at least," she griped at him once she'd kicked a stubborn piece of ginger root off the blade of her sword. (It had been pretty stupid, too, considering she'd stuck the blade into the ground to shoot the cauliflower, and the ambulating root had blundered right into it. So much for ginger being sharp.)

She didn't have time to retrieve the sword before she had to dodge sideways out of the way of an oncoming pumpkin. "Crap!" Kennedy yelped, instinctively slamming the butt of her crossbow's stock into the pumpkin-- which then exploded all over her and left the crossbow a gooey mess.

"Oh, God. I'm sorry, Joni." The crossbow had a name. Shut up.

Yes. Yes, he was.

"Are you really going to debate the merits of facial features in your enemies?" Arthur yelled across the fray (which consisted, at this point, of several ornery bushes of broccoli or something - Arthur had never been a kitchen princess - bristling at him in a vaguely threatening fashion) and pulled a face.

Oh, yeah? Make her shut up then.

"Dude." Kennedy'd slung the crossbow back across her shoulder and retrieved her sword to swipe viciously across-- look. You could not eviscerate a mutant okra--

Okay, wait, revise that. Ew. Gross. Where was she? Oh, right.

"Vegetables. I. Am. Killing. Vegetables," she yelled back, extricating her left foot from a gooey pile of tennis-ball-sized okra seeds and slime. "Where exactly is the badass in this?"

Someone needed to broaden her definition of 'protecting people' to a more Fandom-accommodating scale.

Lopping the head off that broccoli or whatever it was? Getting him closer to Kennedy, so she may be getting her wish soon enough.

"The 'badass' is in defending your home," he shot back, accidentally carving half a /: into a tomato on his way there. "For the love of God, pay attention!"

"To what, you?" she asked scornfully-- and a bit disgustedly, having elbowed a very large mushy sweet potato and there went this jacket. "Defending, I get. This is making the world's least sanitary gigantic sal--"

Ever been tackled by an artichoke?

Ow.

Her Watcher probably had the urge to say 'I told you so' right about now. Again.

So did Arthur, for some strange reason.

Luckily, he was a little preoccupied by the act of stabbing the life out of that artichoke before it tried to do something unscrupulous, like chew Kennedy's face off. "I told you to pay attention," he snapped.

Yeah, chewing her face off would be more objectionable than breaking her nose, most likely.

"I had it," she grumbled, glaring at him as she got back to her feet. Not that she did, but hell if she'd admit as much; the closest she came was venting her annoyance by kicking at the artichoke sullenly.

Dinah tried not to crack up, with little success, and threw a bunch of mixed greens over Kennedy's head, eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

"What, not gloriously heroic enough?"

"It's combat with the produce section," Kennedy bitched, and took a swipe at a leek. "This is so not cool."

"Well, no," Dinah admitted. "But being lunch for a lettuce is even less cool." She lifted a bunch of tomatoes, writhing and moaning, and threw them at their taller celery and rutabaga brethren, all of them going down in a squashy mass. "I mean, who wants that on their tombstone? 'The legumes got me?'"

Kennedy hadn't wanted the reminder that Dinah had powers, and the look on her face was a little sour. "That's catchy," she said, roundhouse-kicking a giant, lumbering head of elephant garlic that refused to split into cloves the way she'd been hoping it would. Dammit. Oh, fine-- she went at it with the pommel of her sword, and after a few clubbings it finally went all clove-y.

"Niiiice work," Dinah said with a grin, then concentrated on a giant tomato coming toward her. Maybe, possibly...?

Bruises appeared as she hit it with her TK, but it didn't burst. Dinah settled for picking it up and sending it spinning into a row of advancing artichokes. They all screamed with the tomato landed on them and went splooooosh! "I'd kill for a burger right about now."

"This is where I should make some smartass comment about meat, but I'm just--" Kennedy took a wild arcing swing that carved a ragged line halfway deep into a head of bok choy, sending a few leafy tops fluttering sadly to the ground. "-- not feeling it right now!"

Dinah didn't get it for a moment, frowning. "Meat...?" Then she was back to lifting veggies for a second before she got it, then cracked up.

Very irritated vegetables hissed and yelled at the poor treatment.

Part of Kennedy's obnoxiousness was still rooted in her tendency to be more out than strictly necessary. She hadn't grown out of that yet. (Don't tell her it wasn't actually part of her charm.) She gave Dinah a cocky smirk and hefted her sword. "Hey. Fling one my way."

This was still kind of lame, but she might as well make the most of it.

"Incoming!" Dinah called, still giggling, and flung three large pumpkins at Kennedy, thinking she and Tony should get into an outrageousness contest sometime.

Kennedy grinned and danced a step to the side, hacking at the pumpkins as they went by. The first one got away with only a large roughly C-shaped gouge cut out of it, but the next two got cut into uneven halves.

"This? So not how I planned my first invasion."

Yes, Kennedy. Because Fandom listens to your plans.

"Mine was harpies. They stank. I'll take vegetable matter over rotten eggs and guts any day," Dinah said, doing a little dance of pumpkin victory. "Did you actually plan for it?"

"My Watcher," Kennedy said, managing to look put-upon in the middle of lopping apart a green bean that'd been trying to loop around her ankle, "said I could put my training to use here. I didn't think she meant to use it as food prep."

Although ew, harpies. But come on, that was at least more dignified than garden plants.

Oh, sure. Until you barfed from the smell and the guts and the headless woman-headed birds.

"Well, cheer up. This is my sixth invasion this year. You'll get another one," Dinah said, as she picked up one big pumpkin and used it to bowl toward a stand of snarling corn. "STRIKE! YES!" She laughed and then picked up another to aim toward Kennedy. "Heeeeey batter batter batter!"

Kennedy planted her feet and took a hack at the pumpkin so hard she nearly lost her balance and fell, but she did get the satisfaction of watching pumpkin halves go flying, one into a tree and the other into an onrushing bunch of Swiss chard (rainbow, heh).

About a half second before Malabar gourd exploded all over her.

"What the hell?"

Behind the Dorms, Tuesday... Morning

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