A discovery
Date: April 3, 2003, afternoon
Status: Public - complete
Setting: The Manor
Summary: Loki discovers some left-overs from the past. Anyone come play?
Loki returned to his room with a contented smile on his face. He had spend some hours rummaging through things from the manor's past, hoping to find something that would prove interesting and maybe even useful.
What he had found was certainly interesting, while its usability, as well as its usefulness, were still in some doubt. What he did not doubt in the least, however, was that he would find out about both soon enough.
He dragged his low table to the corner from where he could keep an eye on the door. Not knowing quite where his so-called friends and family were would keep him somewhat on edge for a long time, he feared. Or at least until he had enough allies of his own to sleep comfortably again. Not that he slept at all at the moment.
Carefully, he put down the four paintball markers he had been carrying on the table and unslung the bag from his shoulder. Then he laid out the paint cartridges he had collected in it, sorted by color. So now he had some firearms, though admittedly not the type he'd been thinking of when he mentioned them to his other self.
He reached into the box with red paint pellets. Yes, that was definitely his color. He took one out, holding it carefully between him fingers in order not to crush it. The ammunition had gone unused for years, it seemed, and the paint inside seemed to have dried up. Maybe applying a little heat would help.
The first attempt went somewhat awry. The heat flowing from his fingers caused the paintball to swell until it no longer fit into the weapon. It brust when he tried, splashing his hand with red paint.
He wiped it on the inside of the light jacket he wore open without as much as a t-shirt beneath, and tried again. A little less heat this time, and more slowly. He stopped when the outside of the ball started to show the first sign of reaction. This one was much better. Of course he would have to try it out to see if it was truly functional again.
Loading the marker, he went to his open window, sighted on one of the trees on the manor grounds, and pulled the trigger. With a satisfied grin at the result, he went back to his table to put the remaining ammunition into a functional state again, before he collected everything and went downstairs.
In the lobby, he put down three of the markers in conspicuous places, together with the paintfall boxes with yellow, blue and green ammunition. Then he retreated to the doorway to watch if anyone would come in and pick one up. The loaded red marker firmly in his hands and ready for action, he leaned against the wall and waited.
Status: Public - complete
Setting: The Manor
Summary: Loki discovers some left-overs from the past. Anyone come play?
Loki returned to his room with a contented smile on his face. He had spend some hours rummaging through things from the manor's past, hoping to find something that would prove interesting and maybe even useful.
What he had found was certainly interesting, while its usability, as well as its usefulness, were still in some doubt. What he did not doubt in the least, however, was that he would find out about both soon enough.
He dragged his low table to the corner from where he could keep an eye on the door. Not knowing quite where his so-called friends and family were would keep him somewhat on edge for a long time, he feared. Or at least until he had enough allies of his own to sleep comfortably again. Not that he slept at all at the moment.
Carefully, he put down the four paintball markers he had been carrying on the table and unslung the bag from his shoulder. Then he laid out the paint cartridges he had collected in it, sorted by color. So now he had some firearms, though admittedly not the type he'd been thinking of when he mentioned them to his other self.
He reached into the box with red paint pellets. Yes, that was definitely his color. He took one out, holding it carefully between him fingers in order not to crush it. The ammunition had gone unused for years, it seemed, and the paint inside seemed to have dried up. Maybe applying a little heat would help.
The first attempt went somewhat awry. The heat flowing from his fingers caused the paintball to swell until it no longer fit into the weapon. It brust when he tried, splashing his hand with red paint.
He wiped it on the inside of the light jacket he wore open without as much as a t-shirt beneath, and tried again. A little less heat this time, and more slowly. He stopped when the outside of the ball started to show the first sign of reaction. This one was much better. Of course he would have to try it out to see if it was truly functional again.
Loading the marker, he went to his open window, sighted on one of the trees on the manor grounds, and pulled the trigger. With a satisfied grin at the result, he went back to his table to put the remaining ammunition into a functional state again, before he collected everything and went downstairs.
In the lobby, he put down three of the markers in conspicuous places, together with the paintfall boxes with yellow, blue and green ammunition. Then he retreated to the doorway to watch if anyone would come in and pick one up. The loaded red marker firmly in his hands and ready for action, he leaned against the wall and waited.