all the boys who the dance floor didn't love

[culver]

WHO: General Nill, General Damian, & everybody who signed up or just wants to come.
WHERE: Central Park.
WHEN: 7 December, 10 AM - sometime Saturday or Sunday.
WARNINGS: WHO KNOWS.
SUMMARY: Damian told Nill she wasn't prepared for war, and she's determined to show him differently.
FORMAT: Quick to start, but do whateva you want.



[The field is huge, without cover, and blanketed in snow. To anyone passing by before ten in the morning, it looks serene and beautiful. But as soon as the clock strikes that special hour, two imports with something to prove take to the field to shake hands and wish each other the best. In what?

Snow war.

Pick your side or make your own side, take prisoners or show no mercy; this is more or less a free-for-all. Who will be victorious? Nobody has a clue. As long as Damian gets whapped in the face by at least one snowball, everything will end up just fine.

Team suggestions are just that: suggestions. If you want your character to defect, start their own team, etc. please feel free! And start any new thread headers you want, these were just some Hallie suggested. Have fun!]

Comments

[onetouch]

"My mistake." It's said dryly, but he does as he's asked, he was really good at this as a kid!!!! Okay, no he wasn't. He was like the kid who just got nailed in dodgeball no matter what team he was on because no one liked him. Once a loser, always a loser; them's the brakes.

It won't stop him from trying though, even if he doesn't have very good aim....,..,,.

[magicalworld]

Poor Ned.

Calvin peers off into the distance as Digby becomes a yellow dot on the hunt. "So how good is your dog at mauling people?" He asks. "Do you have him eat people often? How did you train him?"

[onetouch]

He worries about Digby, though being nearly 24 he could probably stand on his own four paws. He sighed, not looking very amused by the line of conversation. Then again, it could be how terrible he was usually at talking to children, or how hard he was concentrating on not getting hit.

"Almost never."

[magicalworld]

Calvin frowns. "You've got your own war hound and you don't have him maim your enemies? That seems like a waste."

He leans forward, folds his arms on the parapet, and rests his chin on them. "I was always trying to get my tiger to eat mean people for me back home, but he never really did it. He kept saying that jerks disagreed with his stomach."