Juliette Coulombe (clearyourmind) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-04-12 11:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, !plot: founders festival, juliette coulombe, pyr min |
Who: Pyr & Juliette
What: Festival games and the epic rivalry that was unavoidable
Where: The park
When: Today!
Rating: Tame
Status: Complete!
In retrospect, considering their personalities, the fact that what was supposed to be a friendly contest got heated had probably been inevitable. She had won at a game of ring toss, but then he’d shocked her by defeating her at the high striker, despite the fact that she had been doing extensive strength training for the last eight months. Though they were each carting a stuffed animal now (a tonberry for him, a chocobo for her -- he had nearly died laughing when the man running the ring toss had tried to give her the pink one; she had glared and asked for yellow), they were also both feeling as though this tie ought to be broken. She was the first one to spot the booth with its balloons tacked to a board and baskets of darts. “Do you want to play this one?” she asked. The perceived insult to her strength still stung, but her aim had served her well once already -- perhaps it would do so again. Pyr looked in the direction she was pointing and a grin appeared on his face. "Only yes," he said, the little voice inside his head already congratulating him on his victory. He had been throwing anything that could be balled into a projectile at unsuspecting victims his whole life; there was no way he could lose at this game. They approached the vendor just as two other players and their entourage ambled away among laughter and jokes. Pyr took out his coinpurse and handed the man necessary gil for both of them. "I'll get this round," he said to Juliette. “If you like,” she agreed. There was a girl behind the counter a bit younger than her; she smiled at them both (perhaps just a bit longer at Pyr) as he paid, then handed over their darts. “If you break five balloons,” she said, “you win. Here, I’ll even give you six darts,” she added with a wink (definitely at Pyr -- why, Juliette was sure she didn’t know). At least they both got six darts, so that was something. “You go first,” the girl said, addressing Pyr; Juliette had to fight not to roll her eyes. “By all means,” Juliette said, “please go ahead.” Pyr grinned at the girl―not sure he had done anything to deserve the extra dart, but feeling extremely pleased with himself anyway. “Thanks. That’s really nice,” he said. The girl smiled back. First dart in hand, he considered the balloon in a straight line from where he stood; the easiest to get, and if he got it then Juliette wouldn’t. An instant later, however, he changed his mind, selected a much less accessible balloon to the side. He threw, and it broke into a shower of red elastic. Smug, he informed Juliette, “I decided not to go archer, but I’m not going to lose if it’s a battle of accuracy.” “Oh?” Juliette said. She picked her own target carefully -- an easier balloon, to start. Why not give herself the best odds possible? Her first throw connected, too, popping the green balloon as she pointed out, “You already lost in one battle of accuracy today.” He gave her a look that borded on a pout. “I’m just letting you build up your confidence,” he said, and aimed his next dart, at another of the farther balloons. It connected, and his grin returned. “I thought you might want that pink chocobo.” “No,” she said with a small grimace, “I do not.” Again, she took her time selecting her next balloon and threw. It popped, like the first. For now, they would remain even. As he began to aim for his third, she suddenly said, “And you hadn’t told me you had made up your mind about that.” He had mentioned it as a distinct possibility more than once; honestly, she had wondered whether he might in fact choose it, after all. “Why not archery?” Her question came when he was about to release the dart. He glanced at Juliette and the answer because you're not an archer flashed across his mind. He fumbled the shot. The dart grazed its intended target, not close enough to pop it, but certainly close enough to constitute a personal offense. "Because I'm easily distracted, apparently," he grumbled under his breath; then louder, "I just feel more comfortable doing hand-to-hand." “Apparently,” Juliette said, giving him an odd look. Was it because he was aiming at the further balloons to show off his skills? How odd. Her third dart, thrown after a few moments of careful thought, once again struck true. The girl behind the counter looked rather sour about it. “You’re good at hand-to-hand,” Juliette said, a balm of sorts over what was likely to be bruised pride. “I am certain it will serve you well.” His next dart hit home, but by then there was not taking back his earlier mistake; she was already in the lead. "Right." He sighed. "Well, by this time next year, Jareth will have got me ready to pass my exam, or he will have killed me. It'll work out somehow." He did not voice the thoughts that had been chasing him around since before her exam; that she may not have time for him once she made class, that their spars might turn into lessons, that by the time he made class she would already be far ahead of him in skill. One of the reasons he had invited her to come was he wanted to take her mind off her exam--and perhaps, his own as well. “I don’t think he will kill you,” Juliette said; there was no doubt that berserker training was harsh (she knew this firsthand) but it was not likely to be fatal. “It is a difficult exam,” she added, once her next dart had flown true, “but I am certain you can do well.” I hope I did, she didn’t add. She reached five points before he did, with her sixth dart still in hand. The girl behind the counter looked downright annoyed as she all but shoved the pink chocobo at Juliette insisting that none of the other prizes were presently available for selection. After a moment’s thought, Juliette passed the unwanted item on to Pyr, saying, “I already have a chocobo, you can have this one.” (The girl’s scowl only increased in intensity; really, she was not skilled at all in customer service, it seemed.) The sight of Juliette at a loss for how to get rid of the pink plushie, for the second time that day, had Pyr cracking up as he had the first time. He took the chocobo from her and, laughing too hard to be able to produce the kicked-puppy look the situation deserved, he said, "You're so mean to him, just because he's pink. He looks so sad now. I think he just wants to be your friend, and you keep pushing him away." “He can be friends with your tonberry,” Juliette said with a roll of her eyes (this time, she could not manage to hold it back). “Perhaps I will win myself a different friend.” Not a pink one. Of course, Pyr had his own thoughts on letting her win at the next game -- but as they moved on to the next booth that caught their attention, she wouldn’t have had it any other way. After all, distraction required a challenge, and it seemed she’d be getting one. [[ooc: as of this log, Pyr has obtained item #13 on Edgar’s list, the prize from a game booth!]] |