Young Writers Society

AT | Academy Courtyard #5

"And so I told her her strategy was stupid and she couldn't fight her way out of a wet paper bag without setting fire to the entire city in the process, and she tried to punch me!"

AT half-sprawled, half-leaned against warm scales and made a quiet sound of contentment. "She's going to be all responsible and serious now, but I bet I can still rile her up, it's so easy." A white snout came to nudge at her shoulder and she grinned up at her lusus' red eyes. "I know, I know, humans don't do quadrants, jeez, I figured that out a sweep ago. A troll can dream, yes?" She dodged a playful snap of teeth that could've maybe have resulted in minor limb loss, smile widening. "Speaking of! I'm dragging Wayne over tomorrow for some exercise! She's being grumpy and all so don't eat her, okay?"

That was a rhetorical question, really. People not fluent in dragon and used to anthropomorphizing anything with a smidgen of intelligence might have taken the answering flutter of wings as a shrug. People would be wrong and become dragon food. AT wisely recognized that Talk Time was over, picked up her sword from where it'd been sitting and promptly put some space between her and her lusus. She was probably going to go perch on some tower and terrify bypassers now, or go chat with the headmaster.

That left AT with little to do but return to the main buildings and find someone to bother hang out with. Which, in turn, happened to put her in the perfect place to observe as Sorm pounced on an unsuspecting girl, grabbed her beribonned hair and neatly sliced off the braid before vanishing down the hallway, a victorious grin firmly pasteded on.

A couple sweeps ago, that would have warranted a moment of indignation from her part and a resolution to track him down for cause of unauthorized assault to follicles and blatant disregard for public safety. Now, if she tracked him down, it was with a bounce to her step and an appreciative eye for the chaos, while somewhere behind the poor girl seemed to be oscillating wildly between shrieks of fury and disbelief.

"Nice catch! Also sorry for the hat!" She waved as she approached the intersection and Sorm, who seemed to have been deciding which way to take to maximize pillage and booty. The look she got was a lot less venomous than she would have expected, what with her earlier offense to said hat's sanctity.

"Fixink dat." Oh. Ooooh. She leaned in, conspiratorial.

Among the facts one might need to remember, when knowing AT: being raised by a dragon has rather impressive consequences on the shape of one's smile.

"You know who might have just what you need for that? Mr. Talks-A-Lot. You ever been to his room? It is decadent how much shiny there is." If anyone asked, this was reparation for hat-murdering. Any jury would understand. "I think we should go pay him a visit. You would get the very best hat!"

A considering look turned positively predatory. It was nice having someone who understood that around sometimes!

Now let the fun begin.

Laila Hardy | Cafeteria

“Batman.”

Will tilted his head curiously. “That can’t be.” His eyes narrowed at Laila and just as their attention shifted, Batman vanished.

“That was odd,” Laila muttered, confused.

“We’ll find out what he’s doing here later. Right now, let’s win us a paintball war.” He grinned.

She gave him a quick nod. “Right.”

They turned their attention back to the door and peeked outside. The tent was filled with a few couple of students that were visible in the dim light and the top was connected to a ventilation system. Their plan was quite simple. Just throw down the paint from inside the vent and splatter everyone with a bit of sassy pink. It’d be one heck of a knockout.

Will rested his paintball gun on his shoulder. “Let’s make this quick, m’kay?”

“You’re the boss.”

Laila then sauntered into the cafeteria, holding a large bucket of paint in one hand as if it was as light as a textbook. Will had her back as he tried to tiptoe silently without being detected only to end up tripping over a bottle and landing on his bottom. Laila turned around and put a finger to her lips. He mouthed something about it being not his fault and got up again.

Lurking through the dim lights, Laila’s infrared vision kicked in, illuminating her eyes like ghostly orbs. She scared a teenage girl who ended up tripping into a trash cylinder, getting stuck with her legs kicking in the air. Laila didn’t help her out; instead, she put the lid over the girl’s legs, shutting the container and told her everything was going to be alright. However, after she said that, it didn’t seem very comforting as it originally did in her head.

It took a few minutes but she finally made it to the ventilation shaft, bucket in hand. Will was taking care of a guard that crept up on them earlier and was gone. Without waiting, she slammed the bucket of paint into the shaft. “Adios, muchachos.”

She quickly dropped the bucket and went back to the tent to see the damage only to find Will stumbling into the tent. What’s he doing? The pink paint splattered in every direction, wetting everyone including Will. The students shouted as they looked around, pointing their fingers and some scrambling around like headless chickens.

Laila entered the tent to see what was going on and one of the boys actually tried to shoot her. The bullet missed her by a kitten’s whisker and he ended up slipping on the paint. He tried to stand up but tumbled again. Third time wasn’t a charm, he held onto his partner and they both slipped, knocking each other out.

The students, swimming in the need for vengeance, pointed their guns at them. Will didn’t hesitate to whack them down and it wasn’t exactly hard to do before they screamed and ran out of the tent with their arms in the air, leaving pink footprints behind.

Will sighed and lifted his arms, looking down at himself. “Did you not hear me telling you to wait?”

Laila put a fist to her mouth, trying to conceal her laugh. Will was covered in pink. It was in his hair, on his face, his shoulders and hands were all stained and he looked like a strawberry Popsicle. “No, I didn’t hear you. I’m sorry.”

He rubbed his shirt, only smearing the paint across his chest and he frowned, shaking his head. “Well…at least this brings out my feminine side.”

“You have one?”

“Har-har. I don’t always roll around in the mud, you know?”

Laila stuck out her hand. Will looked at it with a lifted eyebrow.

“What?”

“My twenty bucks. I won the bet.”

He muttered to himself and then waved his hand in the air. “Alright, alright. I’ll get you your twenty green when we get back to the Academy.”

Laila shrugged and dropped her hand. “We should check on the others,” she suggested.

Will nodded. “Touché.”

Douglas Meredith | Under his bed

Oh, how I wished I could've been under a table right now. As I'd discovered earlier in the cafeteria, it was really quite a marvellous experience. I'd legged it from the training room half way through Dimitri's rampage because I didn't quite fancy the idea of being crushed by some big ass metal guy. And it was scary. I didn't' like scary things, or dangerous things, or violent things, or pretty much anything that could get me hurt, really. Which kind of sucked considering I was apparently a hero in training.

And so, to shy away from the embarrassment of legging it half way through training, I was under my bed. It wasn't quite as exhilarating as being under a table because there was a rotted banana next to my face, but hey, I'd live. Besides, it was my banana and I had thrown it under there not so long ago, so I could hardly complain. I sighed.

"On the bright side, gay boy, at least you've got a banana peel to keep you company. Saying that, I'm not even sure why you ate a banana because you can't stand the things." If there was one person who'd always listen to me while I was talking, it was myself. "I wonder if Dimitri likes bananas... Oh my days, if the crazy ass steel version of himself likes bananas, maybe throwing them at him would be a kick-ass technique to control him or something. I should totally try that out." I paused. "I'd have to get someone else to do it though 'cause I'd be too busy shitting myself to throw anything at the guy, let alone a yellow fruit that, if I may say so myself, smells like puke, mould and loneliness. Or maybe the latter's just me."

As I withered in self-pity underneath my bed, my mind began pondering. I was going to be screwed when it came to my team's first mission, with or without bananas to aid me. I was going to have to devise a plan. Maybe ten minutes into the action, I could 'accidentally' stumble and fall on my head, thus leaving me 'unconscious' for the rest of the mission. What a shame that would've been. For a guy who liked to talk, I sure as hell could play dead pretty darn well.

"Then again, I could always just become invisible for the whole mission. That way, I couldn't be attacked and Bri wouldn't have been able to find me to kick my ass and tell me to man the hell up." I realised I was talking out loud again, and I was sure the banana peel was listening intently.

If I was on Will's team, I wouldn't have been so paranoid because Will knew how much scary things scared me. And he was hot. Bri, on the other hand, quite literally wanted me dead half of the time, or at least wanted me thrown across a cafeteria, which she'd demonstrated quite expertly in recent times. As pretty as Bri was, she wasn't really the kind of thing that tickled my fancy. Too much on top, not enough down below.

"Woe is me... Such perils I face as a butt pira--"

Before I could finish my sentence, I heard a hard knock on my door. Now, there were three things I could've done. I could've either remained as silent as a corpse and hoped they went away, slid from underneath my bed and casually opened the door like some fly little bugger, or started crying. So as my room's door began opening, naturally, I did the latter.

Wayne | Greendale Community College 

Wayne eyed the equipment she'd manage to salvage, ripping a length of duct tape off of the roll with her teeth. She grabbed for a spring, a canister with a pop-off lid and a couple rubber bands. Within minutes, she had ten handmade, nonexplosive grenades. The paintballs came next, stuffed inside the dozen or so quick-made weapons. 

With a wicked grin, she strapped each one to her belt, striding passed The Heavy and out the door of an abandoned classroom. "Cover me, meathead. And please, just keep your trap shut, mkay?" He seemed to comply, although there were a few muttered, heavily accented words in there somewhere. Wayne chose to ignore them. 

They piled out a side door and into a courtyard of sorts, complete with an irritatingly high level of volume and spastic kids with paintball guns. Not an ideal situation by any means, but she had grenades. And explosives (even if those explosives were just shooting paintballs, as opposed to a mass amount of energy, heat and other such catastrophic things) made everything better. 

But something caught her eye on their way out- something absolutely marvelous. Oh, imagine the fun to be had with that. She could see the paintball-spewing now; the globs flying across and down the hall, the shrieks of unsuspecting students, the sheer joy of seeing their bodies absolutely covered in enemy paint. And what was better; there had to be more laying around the school, too. 

A screech, even more high-pitched than most, made its way to her ears, and the grenades were just itching to be hucked at unsuspecting students. Wayne turned to Heavy, finally remembering his presence in the hall, and shoved a finger at a window. "You're gonna get to play sniper, sandwich head. Sound fun to you?" 

The thing smirked, cocking his gun. "Heavy kno-" 

"Yeah, that's nice. Just shut up and do it, alright?" She turned on her heel, shooting quick glances up and down the hall. This one was still clear, thankfully. With a delighted, slightly maniacal grin, she made her way towards another window, pulling one of the grenades out of her pocket. It was a crank-window. Joy. They left much less room for throwing things. Wayne twisted the crank, using the same hand to loosen the screen and ultimately, pull it out. 

The shouting from outside grew louder, no glass pane to get in the way. They were scurrying around like animals down there, which was both amusing and unnerving. No way in hell I'm getting in the middle of that. No, tossing grenades out of windows was far more fun. And it didn't run nearly as high a risk of unwanted and unnecessary psychical contact. 

She pulled out the tab, winding up just enough that the thing would hit its mark before exploding in a spray of paint and glory. It hit the ground and erupted, the spray hitting more of the losers than she'd previously expected. Her grin became more crooked at their yelps, and another one of the dozen was tossed. 

They were gone before Wayne wanted them to be gone, but the yard three stories below her was covered. More or less, at least. 

She pushed back from the window, wiping her hands in a victorious manner. "Who needs guns, huh?" The Heavy opened his mouth, and Wayne held up a finger. "No. Shut up. Don't say anything because it will ruin my mood. And putting me into a bad move when I'm on a high like this is far worse than when I'm just in a bad mood, kay? Kay." 

With that, she once again turned on her heel, pulling a wrench from a hidden holster and the miniature screwdriver from her pocket. It was time to pimp out some vending machines. 

She managed an almost sing-songy, "Tell me if anyone's coming up." 

There were bound to be more of these on the lower first two floors- she'd have to hurry. The machines were beckoning. Besides, the chances of her plan succeeding before the mission's ends were much higher if she rigged those ones. And God, she wanted to watch the shocked expressions something awful.  

Dove | Academy Halls

Dove heard a scream coming from the main building, and found herself trotting towards the sound. As she got close she was going against a flow of people trying to get away. She pulled her cloak around her shoulders and went against the wall, trying to get her head sorted out from the panic in the area.

And a very familiar patch of enjoyment in the situation.

Ata, what have you gotten yourself into now?

Dove flew about the crowd of people, still sticking close to the walls to dodge other students flying away. She eventually found the signs of a small scuffle, but no Ata. Dove pushed her lips to the side. This was either a sign she had gotten bored, or was off to cause more mischief. And, at this point, Dove figured it was the latter.

Trying to find the troll proved to be more difficult than Dove thought. She eventually managed to track down the troll... and her companion. Dove paused mid flight and went into an alcove. Even hearing that accent was enough to make her shiver.

Sorm and Ata were talking about the sparkles and glitter that could soon adorn Sorm’s hat. He had apparently already gotten ribbons and other decorations from students. Which explained the chaos. Dove quietly followed as they turned a corner into the boys’ dorms. Likely to Dougie’s rooms, considering the focus on glitter.

With that curiosity settled, Dove turned around and made her way back to the girls’ dorms. She’d rather avoid any situation with both Sorm and Dougie. One at a time was enough, and she had already trained with the chatterbox today.

Being back in the girls’ dorms reminded her that she hadn’t gotten Bri’s schedule yet. After the east wing blew up, Dove had made sure to have some idea of when Bri and Wayne were tinkering. And, knowing Bri, she would’ve gone to her suit about half an hour ago, after thoroughly assessing the damage. Dove backtracked and made her way to the workshop area of the Academy. The Headmaster liked keeping them separate, considering what could happen in each workshop.

Normally it took Bri a little longer than half an hour to blow herself up, but Dove would rather be safe than sorry.

She landed in front of Bri’s door and knocked. To her surprise, she heard a discussion between two people before the door opened and Dove was faced with a man’s chest. She looked up as Dimitri said, “Hello, Dove.”

“Hey,” she said, trying not to levitate just so the hieght difference wasn’t so great. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He smiled. “Figured I would help Bri with her suit.” There was a slight undertone to his voice, more detectable in his emotions. Guilt at ruining it in the first place.

“Is that Dove?” Bri said from behind him. Dimitri turned his head and nodded. After a certain amount of clanking metal, Bri became visible beside him. “I’m fine.”

Dove smirked. “I believe you, this time.” She glanced at Dimitri. “Considering you have supervision already.”

Bri half-heartedly glared and Dimitri chuckled. Dove managed to keep a somewhat straight face. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going well,” Dimitri answered. “We’re working on a power source for the chest plate.”

Dove finally caved and levitated a few inches off the ground. “I hope you’re not going to let her test it until it’s done.”

Bri rolled her eyes. Dimitri just smiled again. “I won’t.”

Dove began going away from the door. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Bri was very glad to get back to her work, but Dimitri hung back a moment to wave. Dove waved back, now levitating high enough to be nearly at eye level. She quirked the smallest smile at him then flew off.

Bri Stark | Bri’s Workshop

While Dimitri hung around the workshop door waving stupidly at Dove, Bri gathered the few updated pieces of her suit she had. With a few more tweaks, the power source would be functional and ready to go in the chest plate that Bri had spent hours painstakingly reshaping after it was mangled in the training fiasco. The metal glove-like hand pieces that she had spent the summer agonizing over had luckily survived, and with the new power source the energy blasters would be stabilized.

It was incomplete, but with the boot pieces she had salvaged from her suit last year everything would work well enough for a test run.

Bri was pulling on pieces and connecting wires from the chest plate to the gloves and boots when Dimitri turned away from the door.

“Tell me you’re not going out in that,” he said, eying the lengths of her arms and legs that were only protected by the wires circling her limbs.

“Relax, D,” Bri said. She took a few steps, getting a feel for things, and adjusted a few more wires. “Everyone seems to think I’m an accident waiting to happen.” She grabbed the suit’s helmet from the table, stuck in a few wires, and pulled it over her head. “But let me tell you, accidents don’t save the world.” She gave him a wink and locked the faceplate into the helmet.

She took a few steps to the center of the workshop and turned to face the large windows that covered one wall of the room. “JARVIS,” she called as she knelt as if she were a sprinter about to take off into a race. “Open the windows.”

Behind her, she could hear Dimitri shift anxiously. “This is not going to end well.”

The windows rattled as they opened and Bri shot a quick glance back at Dimitri. “Have a little faith, D. I’m a Stark.” She laughed and turned into a sprint toward the open windows, jumping and launching the rocket boosters in her feet at the last moment to speed into the sky.

She flew up over the Academy and hovered, looking down on the main school grounds. It was really just a hunk of floating space rock that had been given an artificial atmosphere, climate control, and the extensive buildings of the Academy.

Bri flew higher, making a wide circle around the Academy. She turned and looked out at space, and to the smaller hunks of space rock that surrounded the Academy. Groups of first and second year students could be seen running across them, battling through different climates and landscapes as a part of their training.

“Alright, JARVIS,” she said, tearing herself away from the view of space extending around her. “Let’s see how fast we can take this thing.”

Energy welled in the rockets at her feet and hands for a second before launching her forward at a speed she could only describe as exhilarating. She let out a cheer for herself as they rounded the Academy in five seconds flat and started around for another try. She wondered, briefly, if this was how West felt all the time.

“Miss Stark,” JARVIS said, his voice ringing in Bri’s ears. “There appears to be an incident in the boy’s dormitories. In Master Meredith’s room, specifically.”

“I’m sure Dougie can handle his diva crisis on his own,” Bri said as they rounded the school for a third time. Her power source seemed to have lost a few energy levels, and calculations to fix it were already buzzing through her mind.

“They are your teammates, Team Leader Stark,” JARVIS said. “And you requested alerts should they encounter difficulties.”

“I don’t consider missing the latest episode of Saturn’s Next Top Model a difficulty,” she muttered. She groaned, not waiting for a response. “Fine. Who’s bothering Dougie, JARVIS.” She flew in closer, rounding the boy’s dormitories to catch a glance through Dougie’s window only to see Atalanta and Sorm standing in the doorway. Bri groaned again. “Nevermind, I should have guessed.”

She landed outside and pulled off her helmet, shaking out her hair for as much the desire to rid herself of helmet-head as the delight she took in watching the freshmen boys stare dumbly at her. She sauntered in the building and up to Dougie’s room. Atalanta and Sorm stood in the doorway, babbling on about hats and glitter and nonsense. Dougie lay halfway under his bed, crying.

“Alright,” Bri said, so obviously not-thrilled to have to deal with any situation involving these three characters. “What’d you do to Princess.”

Sorm | Dougie's Door

"Ho, schtop cryink!"

The boy on the floor, half under the bed, cried harder as Sorm turned back to Ata.

"Az Hy voz sayink, dere iz no challenge ven die oder guy iz jest schnivelink und cryink dere on die floor. No. Dere needs to be a challenge, lyk vit die schneekink around oder sheddink ov blood over die glitterink...!" Sorm was trying to explain to Ata why stealing from Dougie wasn't kosher any more when Bri made an appearance.

“Alright,” she said, looking more dangerous than usual. “What’d you do to Princess.”

"Notink," Sorm said, holding his claws up to show that they were empty. "All ve did vas openink die door."

"We didn't even set a toe inside," Ata added. She had set a foot inside before Sorm had pulled her back upon noticing the room's crying occupant, but he wasn't going to ruin her perfectly sneaky story. He would have to ask her out on a date though, if Bri didn't kill them both with her dangerously disbelieving look.

"Honest," Sorm added, crossing his holeyer-than-hers heart and hoping not to die.

Bri scowled and pushed her way into the room (pushing Sorm inside incidentally), where she had a better view of Dougie. "Well?" she demanded. "Did they do anything other than open the door?"

Dougie quailed and sniveled out an "Argue with each other." as Sorm, now completely inside the room, helped his Jäger self to some glittery things behind his (and everyone's) back.

Feeling satisfyingly sneaky, Sorm inched back out of the room, loot hidden under his cloak, and made a clean getaway as Bri gave Dougie a piece of her mind.

Ah, how criminally great it was to be a smart Jäger.

Will McCoy | Greendale

“Y’know, I hear they’re doing casting calls for the next season of Barney. You should definitely look into that.”

They’d been searching campus for the others, shooting down students that tried--and failed--to get in their way. Will, after turning pink at the hands of Laila’s Sassy Bomb, had resolved that his masculine side had to come out stronger than ever; however, after (by chance) the school’s female pride flag fell from the rooftop and onto Will’s shoulders, he’d given up hope in recovering his image from Laila.

It hadn’t helped that the flag was somehow stuck to his shoulders, giving him a non-optional cape.

Given his bad luck, it was a surprise to Will when his locator began beeping in his ear, signaling that two others were nearby. The signal rang in Will’s ear, and he stopped to read the indicators on the screen. And that’s when he heard the mechanical cocking of cannons beside him. Before he could move, before he could even cover himself in his cape, two vending machines rattled, launching a wave of Spunky Easter ‘97 onto his lower half.

Several yards back, Laila was hunched over, both hands clutched over her mouth and body heaving with laughs.

“Got one!” yelled a voice from above. Will peered up, squinted, and then noticed who had actually blasted him with paint. And, before he could better his instincts, Will barked at Wayne, who quickly ducked behind the wall to dodge paintballs.

Later, after Will’s gun was empty and Wayne and Heavy had come down to join their teammates on the ground, the sun began to set.

“I don’t believe this,” muttered Will as he sank down to the ground, curled up in his cape. “The day’s almost over, and no sign of any aliens.” He laid his head against the wall and put a green juicebox from Wayne’s vending machine to his lips. “What if they invaded while we played with the kids? We could be in another galaxy by now!”

Wayne sat down on a carbon tank beside Will and placed her own juice box squarely on his head, crossing her arms. “Don’t be silly. It would take at least six hours to escape this current galaxy with the technology these aliens probably had available to them.” She took her juicebox back and took a sip. “Unless they’ve been hiding.”

Everyone slowly took a Glance of Revelation at the sky.

“What time is it, Laila?”

“It’s...3:49pm, Will.”

“And the sun’s going down.”

Will stood up, holding out his hand to Laila for his gun. He cocked it and aimed out into the orange sky, firing.

And it splattered in mid-air, sticking out against an invisible surface. Will dropped the gun, grabbing his communicator from the ground and hitting the call button. “West, Addy, we need you in the western court immedia--”



Will’s jaw jerked away as yellow paintballs burst against his face. As he bent over to cough and spit (yellow spit), West ran up behind him, leapfrogging over his back with a victorious “WOOP!”

“Ha. Leetle man heet leetle puppy man with balls. Heavy amuse.”

Laila helped Will up, holding his arm over her shoulder. “It’s like this is turning into a cosmic running gag or something.” She looked at Will’s yellow face as he spat out another glob of yellow paint.

West made another lap around the group and skidded to a halt. “So! What’s the big emergency?”

Will gathered himself, standing up and directing West’s attention to the splotch of paint hanging in the air above them. “Aliens,” he said, and waited until West’s head was turned. Will grabbed his gun and fired off two shots into West’s crotch, sending him squeaking to the ground. Then he looked at the others. “When he gets off the concrete, we’ll launch a stealth assault on...” he looked back up into the sky. “That...invisible...ship...thing.” He looked around at his group. “And they’ll never know what hit ‘em!”

“Uhm. Will--”

“--those aliens will be begging for mercy. Like real mercy.”

“McCoy, you may wanna--”

“--not that fake, ooh I’m sorry mommy mercy that cheesy villains get!”

“Leetle pup, pl0x look into sk--”

“--and we’ll march back to school triumphant!”

“Oh for God’s sake, Will!” Addy grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around to face the tiny, orange, metal ship hovering over the school. Students were leaving the safety of their hideouts to look at it.

Then the PA system rang out. “Good afternoooooooooooon, Greendale! As some of you may notice, we’re experiencing a little bit of Independance Day--themed interference in our game of Paintball Assassin. Never fear, though, because if there’s one thing aliens can’t stand, it’s Conga Musiiiic!”

The music began to blare over the parking lot, and Will and gang stared off at the van-sized ship. “Addy, get your gun. We’re bringin’ that thing down.”

Addy Ellis/Oakley | Greendale

"It's a paintball gun," Addy pointed out.

"So? You must have some trick that would help," said Will.

"She has a trick for everything," West grumbled, "but mainly just for 'showing off'."

Addy dealt him a sharp elbow jab and cocked- no, wait, didn't cock, she had to stop trying that- her gun and looked at the ship.

"Why is it orange?" she asked. "Like, what a totally weird colour for a ship."

"You're totally weird," said Wayne.

They were all momentarily distracted by a line of Greendale students, hanging onto each other's shoulders and hips and waists and weaving their way between buildings like the world's biggest caterpillar.

Addy squinted at the ship. "Okay, looks like there's a few exhausts and whatever around the outside, I get enough balls-"

"Hehe, 'get enough balls'." Both Williams collapsed into giggles, so Addy shot each of them in the anatomical region in question.

"Again?" groaned Will, collapsing to the ground. Heavy boomed with laughter, and even Wayne smirked.

"Heavy no understand, leetle girl normally so sweet."

"Not when there's aliens coming. Okay. Here goes."

"Want me to stand back?" asked Laila. "Will need to be a lucky shot."

Addy snorted. "I don't need luck," she said, and shot.

Her shooting skills had come from the best sharpshooter that the Doctor could muster and they didn't disappoint. One, two, three into one exhaust, and the ship continued to spin. One, two, three into the next, one, two, three and then one... two... threeeee....

The spinning stopped and Addy waited for an explosion. Instead all the lights in the ship went off and it landed with a thunk on one of the Greendale roofs.

The team all looked at Addy and she shrugged. "Look, you told me to shoot so I shot. How was I supposed to know it wasn't going to make anything explode?"

"Heavy want boom-boom."

"I know, Heavy. We all want boom-boom," said Will with a sigh. "Okay. So. Aliens. No biggie. We'll just see what we're up against."

A door opened. Steam poured out down the gangplank and the aliens emerged.

"OH MY GOSH THEY ARE THE CUTEST THINGS EVER!!!!!!!"

Addy nearly dropped her gun. West banged his head against Heavy's back (Heavy did not seem to notice).

The aliens were tiny, with massive ears, all blue and purple and pink and werejustabouthemostadorablethingsAddyhadeverseteyeson.

"Can we keep one? Oh please oh please can we keep one?" she asked her team.

"Can we kill her and blame it on an accident?" asked Wayne. "Please oh please?"

"I'm going to have to respectfully decline both your requests," said Will. "But at least it looks like we can probably beat them in a paintball fight."

The conga music seemed to be having a strange effect on the aliens. That is, they were forming their own conga line and doing it around their ship.

"I'm conscientiously objecting," Addy announced.

"That's alright," said Wayne. "Anything you can do, I can do better."

"No you can't-"

"Yes I can-"

"No you can't-"

"Stop," Will commanded. "On my count, attack. One... two... three!"

William West | Greendale

“West, do a quick scan, but wait for us to get there before you charge in,” Will yelled as West sped towards the building.

West turned around to nod, putting up a thumbs up to show he heard. “Whatever you want.” He turned back, barely missing a beat as he weaved through the mess of the courtyard. He made his way to the nearest building, smashed through the locked doors and was on the roof in no time.

“Okay, we got at least twelve of the little things,” West pulled down his goggles, zooming in on the scene. “They’re not too big, no more than a two feet.” West began to creep closer to the roof’s edge. “Their claws look they are used to climb, so make sure to keep a close eye. And their ears, they’ll hear you coming for sure.”

“Well, you better distract them, and do it fast, speedy.” Will ordered.

“You got it, but you might want to cover your ears.”

West stood up, throwing his earbud to the ground, filling the empty spaces in both ears with two putty like balls. “I hate this bit,” West pushed his arms backwards, taking one final look at the ship for aim’s sake. West was blasted backwards as his hands met, the speed burning his arms as they slammed into each other. The roof was doused as the clouds traveled towards him, and a loud ringing hung in his ears as the boom left and his vision blurred by the shock waves around him.

The sonic pressure shot right at the alien’s spaceship, sending it tumbling towards the edge of the building and the aliens into panic. Their own ears rang with pain, running in fear of some invisible enemy, misguidedly chasing after their ship as it fell to the ground.

West pushed himself up against a nearby vent, struggling to get up. He pushed past the pain in his chest and attempted to search for his ear bud, finding it partially buried under a pile of pebbles. He clutched it in his hand, shaking it up and sizzling the water inside.

“Was that good enough, Will?”

AT | Doug's Room

"You are the third most pitiful human being I've ever seen," AT was telling Dougie with utmost (platonic) fondness, at the same moment Bri began what would probably be a nice speech on the theme of "you are a disgrace to the entire species" in a tone so well-balanced between utter disdain, indifference and frustration it ought to have been recorded and held up as an example of How To Make People Want To Punch You In the Face.

AT shifted a bit to facilitate Sorm's exit, shooting a quick, approving grin in his direction. Prescience or built-in radar for larceny? Tune in next week for the answer (maybe)~

"--what part of 'hero' and 'stand up for yourself' do you not get? I swear I've seen pufferfish with more spine than this." Say what you will about Bri, girl knew how to properly end a sentence via snarl. It went disgustingly well with the fuck-casing-I-have-wires look. Sadly, the current target of her ire was not in any state to appreciate it the way it ought to have been, what with the tears and the kicked-barkbeast look and all. Two choices now: save the poor boy or abscond.

Actually that was a lie! There was no choice at all because JUST1C3 did not abscond. (Also let it never be said AT ever backed down at an opportunity to needle Bri, seriously, she had a reputation to maintain.)

A cursory look around: no convenient projectiles close at hand. Lobbing a sword at people was Frowned Upon. Well, that left the hard way. Namely, resettling in a careless lean against the doorway and raising her voice over Bri's. "Hey, Buckethead! I think he got it the first five times."

Dougie nodded, warily, to confirm that yes, he had indeed gotten it, looking like he would like nothing more than to retreat back to the safe confines of under the bed and forget this ever happened at all. Bri, interrupted mid-remonstration, sent a last glare in his direction before turning and advancing on AT. Dougie successfully rescued! Score: 1 to AT.

"What were you even doing here, anyway? Haven't got anything better to do than harass teammates?"

"Hey, easy there Princess! We only wanted to borrow some of his stuff, the sloppy sobbing was completely out of mission parameters! That was just plain embarrassing for everyone. A better question would be how d'you just happen to come just now? I bet monitoring fellow students falls under gross violation of privacy!" It also fell under Common Sense, but 1. that wasn't the point and 2. Bri could never be prodded enough.

Of course the all-knowing AI had to rain on her parade. "The entire academy is under surveillance, Ms. Tsavorie, and notifications are relayed to relevant personnel. As you well know."

"Relevant personal being me, aka your team leader." Wow, AT thought, someone really needed a punch to the face. "Now how about you go find something else to do that doesn't involve emotional or physical trauma to anyone and does not require me stepping in?"

"How about no."

"How about stop dicking around and act like a normal well-adjusted person before I kick your ass back to whichever fucked-up planet you came from?"

AT cocked her head, looked up at Bri, smiled. Gotcha. "I'd like to see you try."

Dimitri | All Alone In Bri’s Workshop

“Have a little faith, D. I’m a Stark.”

“Exactly,” Dimitri said, but his voice wasn’t heard over the launchers hurling Bri out the window.

He sat at the bench, staring outside and listening intently for the suit to suddenly burst into flames or fall into pieces – or worse, have a programming malfunction that could potentially sway the result of any feature she could possibly use and, thus, damaging herself tremendously.

Psh, that would never happen. Guess who did most of the programming updates?

Here’s a hint: It wasn’t a Stark.

Dimitri looked over at Connie, who sat next to him on top of the counter. She also looked outside expectantly, but Bri was well out of earshot now.

“Dove’s not going to be pleased if she hears I let Bri out in an unfinished suit,” Dimitri said. Seriously. The team leader left the building just two minutes after Dove left the room. He wasn’t sure he had any excuse to cover his back if anything went amiss.

Dimitri got up from his seat and walked over to Bri’s computer station. He studied the screen(s) a bit before pressing a few buttons. “We should install a camera in her suit,” Dimitri muttered. “JARVIS, how’s Bri holding up?”

“Depends on your perspective, sir.”

Dimitri exchanged looks with Connie, his brow furrowed. Then he sighed. “What is she doing?”

“I believe she is attempting her role as ‘team leader,’ and I must say, it doesn’t seem to be going her way.”

Dimitri groaned, letting his face fall into his hands. A computer with a sense of humor. He decided now wasn’t the time to criticize his leader’s methods and to keep to the task at hand. With a sigh, he looked back up at the screen. “How is the suit?”

Diagrams appeared on the screen with graphs and equations to the side. A picture of her mangled suit was labeled with names as well as percentages which line up with the pie graphs on the neighboring screen.

“The power source is a success, but the amount of energy stored inside is useless. She is already at 43% energy stored, and it continues to fall. At this rate, her suit will stop working, and she—”

“—She’ll be walking back to her workshop.”

“Precisely.”

“As long as it works, then. Fixing the energy stored inside is a time-consuming task but simple nonetheless. Anything else?”

“She has yet to test her rocket boosters, but the launch boosters are successful. X-ray and infrared scanners were not installed when she put the suit on.”

“Tell her not to test the rocket boosters,” Dimitri said. “She should already know that, but she also knew not to test the suit yet. It would probably be better to test those boosters on a target that can… take the hit.”

“Of course, sir.”

Dimitri got up from the chair and wandered over to one of the counters. “JARVIS, do you mind if I transferred a program into your database? Silicon here uses an energy boost program that could be useful for Bri’s back-up power generator. We can charge it to 100% capacity, and it’ll be ready to use if her suit’s normal energy stores ever give out.”

“Of course, sir. How will the transfer occur?”

“Connie has a number of options to use. However, USB is simple enough.”

“Drives G through L are occupied, but drive M is available for use.” A tiny door slide into the tabletop to reveal an open USB port next to two other occupied USB ports.

“Connie, download program…” Dimitri paused to think of the name, his face scrunched up in thought. He finally decided on an easier method. “Download folder EnergyStorage to driver M. Move folder EnergyStorage to desktop—”

“Negative, sir,” JARVIS said. Connie hopped over to the counter as he spoke. The tip of her tail opened, and a USB moved up into position. She inserted the USB into the designated port. “Ah, with your permission, I can upload a communication link with Silicon. I can direct her to the proper location myself.”

Dimitri peered over at Connie, who was reading the screens intently. “That means you can talk to her at any time as well, correct?”

“Correct, sir.”

He hesitated, giving it some thought. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust JARVIS; he just wasn’t sure JARVIS knew what he was getting into involving himself with a computerized feline. “Alright, JARVIS. Fair warning, though: Connie’s not your typical computer. She’s very good at driving people insane.”

“I’m not a people, sir.”

“…This will be interesting, then.”

Laila Hardy | Greendale

Laila watched with squinted eyes as the ship tumbled over the edge of the building and landed on the ground. West's sonic boom had pretty much destroyed their ship and the rest of the aliens ran around, their conga line broken and angry scowls on their faces at what had just happened. Addy had mentioned how cute these aliens were but Laila didn't understand how Addy was seeing them as the aliens from Toy Story while all she pictured was a dozen things of Mike Wazowski. And Mike Wazowski wasn't cute.

Barney Will put a finger to his ear and grinned. "Good enough for me," he said. He pointed up towards the building. "Let's get at 'em team!"

They all nodded and Will was the first to speed towards the building. Addy dropped to one knee and like a pro, she raised the barrel of the paintball gun towards the top of the building and began shooting at every clear shot she had with precise accuracy. "I'll meet you guys upstairs!" she said through the commotion.

Near the building, Heavy was aggravated while trying to the climb the building in the same manner that Will had. He was failing miserably and Wayne had to shove him inside the building to actually use the stairs like a normal person.

"Heavy no like stairs," he moaned.

"Why does it feel like I'm babysitting you?" she grumbled, pushing him through the door.

Laila looked for a quick way to the top and found a fence and a large tree that was so conveniently located next to the building. She broke into a dash and jumped onto the fence then clawed her way up the tree trunk and into the maze of branches. She made her way up easily and once she reached the top, she lunged for the roof and landed with a roll and stood up, dusting her hands. Will was slapping aside the aliens as if they were plushies and Heavy squeezed and fell through the roof's door as Wayne stepped over him with a look of pure annoyance.

"Are we just going to kill them now?" she asked.

Will grunted something while kicking an alien in the face.Then a paintball hit his back the second after and he turned around, looking down at Addy who laughed apologetically. "Would everybody please stop shooting me now?!" Will shouted.

Laila took a step forward in an attempt to help clear the mess of deranged aliens but was suddenly stopped by one of the little things. He walked up to her, his eyes wide and looking into her innocently. His similarity with Puss-in-boots captured her heart immediately and Laila was in awe, wondering why she had thoughts of turning this adorable thing into cat nip a few seconds ago. However, the thing smiled and showed a row of teeth. It let out a snarl and raised it's claws, striking her.

With the trance broken, Laila ducked and avoided the attack. She let out a yelp as it bit her ankle and she kicked her foot back and forth trying to shake it off. The thing was unrelenting. Wayne ran up and grabbed the back of the alien, throwing it off the roof as if it was dirty shoe. She clapped her hands as if she was getting rid of dirt as the alien's yelling faded in the background.

"Wow, um - Thanks."

"Whatever," Wayne muttered. "I knew they'd be like freaking cockleburs."

Bri Stark | Still in Dougie's goddamn room

Nothing about this encounter was going the way Bri would have preferred. Dougie was still sitting on the edge of his bed, whimpering and looking as if he'd like to take cover at any second. That would have been enough to deal with. But, of course, Ata was there giving her a smirk that looked suspiciously seductive.

"I'm waiting," Ata said, visibly enjoying Bri's rage. "Or would you like me to give you a target?" She turned around, and smirked over her shoulder at her.

Times like this, Bri just wanted to rocket-launch the humanoid alien freak in the face and be done with it. But then that nagging voice in the back of her head - the voice she was positive didn't come from her father's genes - got to nagging and she was forced to take a breath and think.

But that didn't mean she had to be happy about it.

"Listen," she said, a snarl hanging on the edge of her voice. "If you get the hell away from me right now, I'll personally oversee your sword training for the next week."

A smirk crossed Ata's lips. Bri could only imagine what was running through her creepy alien head as she stood there, silently. "Perhaps," she said at last, "I can agree to that." She pulled out her sword and flicked it against the metal chest plate of Bri's half-finished suit. "No fancy machines, though."

Bri felt that desire to reshape Ata's face rising in her chest again. "You can't be seri-"

A sudden, shrill whine from Dougie interrupted her, bringing up that nagging voice in Bri's head again.

"Fine," she agreed. "No fancy machines."

Ata nodded and flashed another smirk. "Tomorrow, then." She turned and strode out of the room.

Bri sighed and glanced back to Dougie. "You gonna make it, Princess?"

He sniffled and slid off the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees on the floor. He wiggled backward, sliding his legs back under the bed. "I'll be fine, I'm just going to go..."

"Oh come on." Bri grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him out from under the bed, depositing him back on his bed. She yanked off her gloves and sat down beside him. "Look, Dougie," she said, holding a hand on his shoulder to keep him turned toward her. "You've made it this far in the Academy for a reason. You were put up for task force for a reason. I drafted you as damage on my team for a reaso-"

"I heard you threw darts," Dougie interrupted. "I also heard that didn't work out too well. Speaking of darts, darts is such a strange game. Isn't it popular in bars? Why would anyone give a bunch of drunk people sharp metal things to throw around--"

"I was saying," Bri said, fighting - and failing - to keep the utter frustration out of her voice. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I was saying. You're damage, Dougie. I need you - our team needs you - to be able to deal damage. You must be able to do something."

"Well," Dougie said, thoughtfully holding a finger to his lips. "I have been told that I have quite the penchant for speaking. Although, it's not often anyone says penchant... usually it's more like 'goddamn it gayboy shut your trap' but you know that's just mostly...everyone..." He trailed off, biting his lip and glancing away. "Maybe I could dance someone to death."

Bri gritted her teeth. "Don't you have any damage dealing skills?"

He thought for a moment and shook his head. "Nope! Not that I can think of."

"Then why the hell are you in the system as DAMAGE?!" she jumped up from the bed and nearly kicked over a florescent green umbrella stand.

Dougie shrugged. "System error?"

Bri let out what could only be described as a frustrated growl. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took several deep breaths to appease the nagging in her head. "We're going to figure this out," she said, jabbing a finger in his direction. "Mark my words, Meredith. By the time I'm through with you, you're going to be the best damn hero to ever walk the halls of this Academy."

She turned and strode out of the room, only to pause in the doorway and swivel back. "Next to me, of course," she said. "Don't be getting any funny ideas."

Douglas Meredith | His Room

Well, wasn't that a pleasant experience? I had no idea what the hell was wrong with me, especially why I'd started crying. Maybe I was on my period. I'd heard those thing were pretty nasty. I'd also heard that only girls had them... I was close enough to a girl though so I was sure I shared the ability.

When Bri closed the door behind her, I collapsed myself into a lying position on my bed. I was itching to get back under it, but I figured I'd better not. On the bright side, Bri might have been able to figure out why the hell I was down as damage when I was afraid of measly things like squirrels (but seriously, those things were little shits. They always stole my glitter). In all honesty though, I doubted I'd have been much help in any other position. I had no idea why I was in this place to begin with.

After a while, I figured I'd leave my room and venture out to find someone to harass--I mean, talk to. I hadn't seen Dove in a while. Considering I was her partner at the time, maybe I could've apologised to her for legging it when Dimitri went mental. In reality, I knew this was the worst idea I'd ever had considering the girl blatantly wanted my head on a pole, but I had a knack for doing things I knew I really shouldn't have. Finding and disturbing Dove seemed like the perfect opportunity.

When I did eventually venture out of my room, it didn't take me long to find Dove. She was casually levitating--as you do--outside the cafeteria. As I went to skip towards her and apologise though, I had a sudden change of mind.

"Why apologise to someone when you can harass them via the handy technique of invisibility?" I said outwardly because I'd seen it in films, and films were good. I liked films.

In seconds, I was invisible to the naked eye, clothes and all. For someone who could've talked until their mouth collapsed with strain, I was pretty damn good at moving quietly. Due to that good ol' trait of mine, Dove didn't notice me as I neared her. I stopped behind her, grinned, licked my lips, reached up towards her hood and paused. She was going to kill me. Absolutely destroy me. Perfect. I yanked her cloak's hood down and before I knew it, it was as if the entire world and its 597360000000000000 metric tons (or something like that) had exploded.