fandomhighdorms | Sixth Floor, Late Sunday Afternoon

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Sixth Floor, Late Sunday Afternoon

So Topher (and the radio) hadn't been lying: Topher really did have a laser tag set for eight. Today, however, it was going to be used for two as he and Sam Puckett settled the score on the whole Badass Competition thing. In the time before she got there, he made sure to set the whole floor up for laser-tagging -- he turned off as many lights as he could find, overturned furniture, and suited up in the blue equipment, because blue was totally better than red. Sam could have the red. He thought about playing dirty and laying in wait to zap her as soon as she walked through the door, but she wouldn't be suited up, so it wouldn't count. Damnit.

[[For one! Up early so I don't forget, omg.]]

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Also, she'd have to hit him. He wouldn't like that, much.

Sam arrived right at the scheduled time, limbered up and ready for action.

She maybe had her mini paintball blowgun tucked into her shoe. She liked to be prepared, and there was no Carly around to search her for hidden weaponry. . . .

"You ready for this?" Topher asked in a deliberately raspy voice meant to imitate a soldier. Already, he was turning on his equipment and grabbing the red equipment off the back of the couch to hold out to Sam. Clearly, this was meant to be the battle to end all battles.

Or something.

"Are you ready to be crushed?" Sam took the red equipment and spent just a few moments working out how she was meant to put it on. She hadn't actually played laser tag in years, not since her mom broke up with the guy who was willing to take her to the laser tag place.

She threw Topher a smirk. "Why don't you go hide while I put it on? I'll give you a head start." And not get immediately shot.

"Alright, but don't think I'm going easy on you just 'cause you're letting me hide," Topher warned her.

He set off at a running start, intending to leap over the overturned couch, but he stubbed his toe in the process and did his best not to be obvious about it. After that he moved more subtly, weaving through the maze of flipped-over furniture before he found a counter to crouch behind. It was perfect, because if he crouched just where the hinges were on the swinging door, he could squint through it and see if anyone was heading this way.

Sam finished getting suited up, checked her gun, and headed out herself -- in the opposite direction. Topher had a major advantage with having set the sixth floor up, and she was going to take a few minutes to orient herself before she started actively hunting him down.

And if she could circle around behind where he was hiding, that was all the better.

The counter was a semicircle, meaning that for as long as he squinted out through the gaps in the hinges, his back was completely exposed. He heard footsteps circling behind him and ducked lower, trying to keep out of sight while he memorized the pattern Sam was walking. After a few cycles, when the footsteps were at their loudest, he leapt up and spun around, shooting in her direction.

Sam ducked -- barely -- in time, returning fire, though she didn't have time to aim properly as she went. She vaulted over an overturned couch -- with no toe-stubbing -- and lay herself out flat to peer around the edge from a low angle and see where Topher might have ended up.

Topher, for his part, managed to hightail it out of that spot without even taking a single hit. He sprinted across the room to lurk behind a trash can he'd flipped over for just this purpose, although the dim blue lights from his equipment reflected off the metal of the trash can and lit up his spot.

Sam smirked when she spotted the lights on the trashcan and started in Topher's direction at a belly-crawl.

She had to admit, she'd underestimated him. It wouldn't happen again.

As soon as he figured out the problem with the whole lights situation, Topher started strategizing and trying to devise a subtle escape route. But then again, if she knew where he was, maybe...

When she was only feet away, Topher seized the trash can, flipped it on its side and rolled it in Sam's direction, then leapt up to shoot at her shoulders.

Sam actually saw that coming.

Well, not the rolling the trashcan at her. But the sudden jump up to fire. She rolled out of the way of the trashcan -- and his shots -- returning fire as she went.

She had to rethink her strategy, here. Topher was clearly anticipating her moves. She thought of how she'd beat Spencer and smiled to herself. Laying down a cover fire, she popped up to her feet and made a break for another room.

Damnit, sixth floor! Why did you have to have so many rooms?

Topher took a hit or two as he sprinted after her (yes, sprinted, and it was a miracle he didn't trip or stub any part of his body) and his equipment vibrated to let him know he'd been hit. So he was extra-careful as he stealthed into the room Sam had just claimed. To distract her, he threw a pillow against the back wall of the room just before he entered, hoping she would turn around to look so that he could get a decent shot at her back.

Sam might have looked at the pillow -- but Topher wouldn't be able to tell. She was nowhere to be seen in the room.

Well, unless one were to look up.

She'd managed to make her way up the side of the doorway, her feet precariously balanced on a fire alarm. She was hella scrappy when she wanted to be.

She waited until Topher got all the way into the room, planning to drop down behind him and take a shot before heading back out the door.

Wait, what the hell? No abrupt Sam-movements? Topher peered inside and didn't see her. Well, that was weird. Maybe she was behind the door? He swung it fully open to check, but there was no sound of muffled scrabbling for space.

Huh. She must've psyched him out and gone somewhere else, then. He headed back into the hall, listening closely for any noises of movement.

Aw chiz. The whole ambush thing worked way better when the person she was ambushing you know, walked in to the ambush. Not just to the edge of it.

Sam sighed, rolling her eyes, then eased herself back down to the floor, doing her best to keep silent. She pressed her back up against the edge of the doorway, figuring Topher would walk back by eventually.

Was she invisible or something? While totally cool and definitely something the island should do sometime, Topher was thinking no. He kicked his shoes off to be more quiet, then set off around the floor in search of where she could be hiding.

She was having trouble hearing where he was walking, and eased her head closer to the edge of the door, figuring she'd spot at least a hint of movement when he passed by.

Come on, Topher. Come to Mama.

Topher was extra cautious as he passed the door to the room he'd checked before. Just to be sure, he stepped up carefully to the doorhinge, making sure to keep his body out of the way, then lined up his shot and shot right inside. If he heard the little zapping noise of the laser gun hitting its target, he'd know she was inside.

Sam's suit buzz, and she let out a near silent "chiz!" before pulling away from the wall and moving to take cover behind a handy chair, firing back as she went.

She totally dug how she didn't have to always reload the laser gun.

So she was in there. Topher darted into the room, leaping onto a chair and firing around him.

...Wait. Where was she?

Then he looked down. And fired.

Sam got hit again, but she was on the move and firing back as she made for the door.

Sam's sudden motion under him was jarring, and the chair ended up falling backwards with Topher still on it. He jumped off efficiently and tore off after her. Instead of shooting at her, he crossed his gun across his body as a shield.

"Laaaaaaaaaaame," Sam told him, still firing.

When in doubt, insult your opponent.

"Shut up!"

Ad hominum arguments were the best.

Struck by inspiration, Topher leapt over another chair, aiming to do some kind of airborn tuck-and-roll. He failed (of course) and ended up sprawled on the ground, taking a lot of hits in the process.

Sam went for the high ground -- in this case, a desk. She hopped up onto it, and continued raining down shots at Topher.

Too much fire! Topher's equipment vibrated once, then twice and a third time, and then the blue lights on it flickered and shut off.

"Aaagh, crap," he groaned, wincing. Muffled against the floor, he called, "You win!"

Sam threw her arms into the air. "Woo! Good game, man. I almost thought you had me a few times, there."

Topher got to his feet, totally not thrilled with this turn of events.

"I've never lost before," he grumbled.

SORE LOSER.

"First time for everything," Sam said cheerfully.

"Looks like," Topher mumbled. Then, nearly inaudibly, he grumbled, "Well. Good game, anyway."

"Yep!" Sam pulled out the mini paintball blowgun from her shoe and shot a blue pellet at Topher's forehead.

...Thanks, Sam.

That totally caught him by surprise. "Ow!" Topher yelled, his hand flying up to touch the spot she'd hit. "Dude!"

His pain tolerance? Not very high.

"Now I win at paintball, too," she said.

Yeah, Sam was super classy.

Topher tried wiping his forehead clean of the blue smear, but that sucker was caked on pretty well. Sorry, other residents of the third floor -- when he showered tonight, he was totally leaving all the blue paint on the floor and not doing a single thing about cleaning it up.

"Well," he said, scrambling for a retort. "Uh. I win at... at... video games!"

Now why had he said that? Shit.

"Not at Violin Hero," Sam decided.

She didn't really care about any other video games.

Violin Hero? Who would want to be a hero at playing the violin? That was a loss in and of itself.

"Dude, if that's your greatest video game accomplishment? You should seriously check into a Gamestop, stat."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Or I could continue to do actually awesome things."

...

It was a good point.

"Yeah, whatever," Topher grumbled. And the immaturity contest continued. (That? Was something that Topher always won.)

"Look on the bright side, dude. You actually managed to tag me a couple times. That takes skill."

Well, that was true.

"There will be a rematch!" he announced dramatically. "And I will be avenged! Avenged, I say!"

"Whatever," Sam shot back. "Was that a ball pit I saw in the other room?"

"Looked like," Topher said.

He waggled his eyebrows. "...You wanna?"

"Get into a ball pit ball fight?" Sam grinned. "Could be fun."

"Except we should probably set some ground rules," Topher cautioned her. He held up a hand, pretended to think...

...and then raced off toward the ball pit to hide and get a head start.

"Someone's just asking for another paintball to the head," Sam grumbled, and stomped after him.

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Sixth Floor, Late Sunday Afternoon

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