2007-05-08: Lose a Battle, Get Laughed At More

Starring:

Namir_icon.gif Samantha_icon.gif William_icon.gif

Summary:

As threatened promised, William, Samantha, and Namir all gather for a game of laser tag. Namir winds up winning, but not before he is humiliated in combat by both his opponents. (Spoiler: Samantha shoots Namir.)

Date It Happened: May 8th, 2007

Lose a Battle, Get Laughed At More


A Laser Tag Place

After the insanity yesterday, what better way to unwind than to go out with one's girlfriend and a relative stranger and shoot at each other with lasers? There is no better way to unwind, and it's much better than Halo. It's a nice Spring day that is just starting to wind down, allowing the bold to go around without even a light jacket. Namir holds open the door to the appointed meeting place once he reaches it, smirking at the woman accompanying him. "I will even give you a head-start: I won't shoot you until after you have shot me five times." He's the perfect gentleman.

Samantha gives Namir a little glare. "Don't be a condescending snot - I'd rather earn my victories and my failures. Do that again and I won't make egg creams for a week." Suitably mollified with her threat, she asks, "So who is this guy we're meeting?"

William isn't too far behind Namir and Samantha in arriving. He's got a smile on his face in anticipation of the shooting at relative and complete strangers that is to come. What could make for a better night? He steps into the door and scans the room quickly before he steps over to Namir and Samantha with a smile. "Good evening." He greets politely.

Not the egg creams! Namir is duly threatened, stepping into the establishment after Samantha with a grin. "You fight dirty. His name is William Connors, an ex-SEAL. We got to talking— " in Arabic "— about how hard it is to find any suitable— " He's cut off by the arrival of the man himself, and Namir half-turns to face the other man. "Speak of the devil. Good evening." And then introductions: "William, this is Doctor Samantha Applebaum. Sam, this is William."

Samantha offers a hand forthrightly. One thing is apparent when she's seen - she's pretty, in a very New York way. What's next apparent is when she's heard. "Nice to meet you, William. Ex-SEAL, huh? Thank you for your service." Good god, the Jewish Girl From Queens accent could kill. She sounds like Fran Descher's more attractive cousin from Flatbush.

William takes Samantha's hand and gives it a handshake that's firm, but not trying to squeeze the life out of her. "It's nice to meet you." He says with a friendly smile. "I've been out of the service for about nine months now. I'm looking forward to the chance to shoot at things." And that might even be a joke. Partly. "A doctor? Where do you practice?" Namir gets a quick grin then. "The devil? I didn't know I had such an exalted title."

"I'm an attending in the ER at Mount Sinai." Sam offers. She doesn't launch into a resume of her previous work. "Though I just finished working through an FDA research project." At least not much. "I'm afraid I'm awful at shooting things, but I can at least hold a gun correctly."

Namir's grin only grows. "Well after this match, who knows? I must admit I'm looking forward to facing off with an ex-SEAL." At Sam's last statement, he snorts and places an arm around her shoulders and, completely contradicting his earlier teasing, supplies, "Don't let her fool you; she can be vicious."

"Just keep in mind that I'm rusty. I may not be able to take you out before you even know I'm in the room." William states, with that same maybe humor/maybe serious tone. He gives Sam a quick look over with a more joking smile. "Definately looks vicious. And knowing how to hold a gun is half the battle."

Samantha snorts. "I think I might purposefully die early just so I can watch you two try to out-testosterone each other." But her tone is good humored, and she precedes them into the Laster Tag place.

"She is." She threatened him with a revocation of egg creams; she must be /very/ vicious. Namir follows Sam into the lasertag equipment room after pausing by the counter to pay for the time spent in the darkened arena. There are various vests inside, and he goes in search of one that will fit. Guns are also available, set up in a rack along one wall.

William pays his own money before heading in to look for a vest that will fit him. He gives Samantha a grin. "Well, hopefully that would be an entertaining show at least." He jokes as he tries one on, and then trades it for another that fits better.

Samantha is likewise trying vests on, though she takes the time to pull out a hair tie, grab her dark hair, and with a twist, coils it into a bun at the back of her head and secures it with the twist. Satisfied, she finds a vest that fits, and moves onto the guns. Some arenas offer a variety, and fortunately, this one does. She chooses one of the sidearm size variety.

First one vest is tried, then another before Namir finds a fit and adjusts it accordingly. He dressed in a T-shirt for this occasion — long sleeves would be restrictive, especially in a vest. He's not as reserved in his choice of firearms as Sam and takes up a rifle, testing the weight and feel of it against his shoulder. "No, Sam, you should use our attempts to out-testosterone each other to your advantage," he chuckles. Nothing makes one eat crow better than Surprise Samantha shooting one in the back while one is aiming at William.

William is in a t-shirt as well. He knows what goes well under a vest and the plain black on does that. He moves towards the weapons checking out several of them. "So many choices." He notes as he picks up a rifle and one in the form of a sidearm, trying out how each feels in his grip. He finally decides on the sidearm. "True. It could be our downfall."

Unexpected Samantha is unexpected! "Lucky for you both I have a healthy sense of losing graciously." Even if there might be fruity band-aids later. No Transformers to men who laser her to death! "So what else do we have to do? I think you uhh, can only take one gun in, guys."

Further proof that Samantha can be vicious. No woman lacking in ferocity would threaten a man's egg creams /and/ Transformers band-aids. Namir tests another rifle against his shoulder, but it's not really that different from the previous one. Regardless, he decides on that one and hefts it to rest the barrel on his shoulder, grinning. "What? Where's the fun in that? A woman with two pistols is very sexy, you know." The latter is added with a jaunty lift of one eyebrow.

William sighs over at Sam as he finds a handgun that fits his hand well. "Only one? I'm not used to only getting to fight with one." He'll leave the jokes about sexy women to Namir though. He's more interested in the guns right now. He lifts his as if he would fire it and nods. "This one'll work."

Samantha sighs. "If this is some bizarre computer game woman fetish…" she reaches for another gun, and dubiously straps them both to either side. "We ready or what?" she demands. Pushy New Yorker.

"Only one is very bizarre," Namir agrees with William, nodding. When Sam takes up a second handgun, he grins all the wider, then shoots his own vest to activate it and heads for the door leading into the arena. "Thirty seconds to get into whatever position you want." And then he's off into the darkened room beyond, moving with practiced speed.

William shoots his own vest as well then heads into the arena. He's running almost silently as he heads off, darting behind a fake boulder to pause and scan the room, taking in everything in the arena. He's suddenly focused on the moment, though if anyone could see it, there's a geniune smile on his face. He's missed this feeling.

Samantha takes her time. She wanders the maze like corridors, and then upon finding a partition that suits her, spots one of the hidey barrels and tucks herself in behind it. She sets her pistols, watches…and waits.

Thirty seconds pass and Namir has gotten into the far corner of the arena. Now it's time to go hunting — with a little help from his own latent abilities. As he circles around to slip up a ramp onto the catwalk, he deadens the sounds he emits, making him virtually silent. His rifle is held in a ready position, prepared to snap up and fire at a moment's notice, and he peers down on either side of the walk in the hopes of spotting someone down below. Surprise attack are always best when they come from above.

William is quiet just from skill, not cheating. That doesn't help him to hear Namir, but he staying away from the catwalk. He's moving in a crouch from behind object to object, staying around the side of the arena at first. He's fast between objects, but then he's moving slower, taking his time to scan the room, in front, behind, above. He'd scan below, but the floor is pretty solid. His senses have dulled in the months of city living, maybe, but he's still got the instinct to want to be aware of everything.

Samantha just stays put. She not only looks around her, but above her as well and waits to see if she spots anyone. Of course, one has to see enough of the other person to actually have one's "laser" (quotes are a necessity, Dr. Evil!) hit the right spot on the other's vest. So she watches. And waits. Unexpected Sam is unexpected…

And there's a William. It's chance that Namir spots him moving between one object and another, and the lawman quickly takes a step back from the railing in case he's been spotted too. The rifle comes up, he creeps forward again, and takes careful aim at whatever he can see of the ex-SEAL. It's not much, but hopefully there's enough of an opening for him to hit. Who knows? If Sam is anywhere nearby and looking up, she might be able to spot Namir's gun, head and shoulder.

William caught a bit of that movement, just enough to know that there's someone up there. Whether it's Namir or Sam, time will tell, but William tucks himself tighter behind his current rock. It's not big enough to get all his extremities in, but it hides the vest pretty well. He angles himself around, waiting to see if Namir exposes himself any more in taking a shot. He's aiming that way to take a shot as soon as one presents itself. He's seen though, and that means he'll be easier to track from here on out.

Namir's vest flashes and flickers out save for a red light, indicating he's hit, but the telltale sounds of a powered-down vest are not immediately evident. Neither is his grunt of frustration, but both sounds rise again readily enough, fading back into existence as though someone just started up a record player after the power was cut off. He takes a step back from the railing and glances down at himself with a frown. Damn it. "«A curse on the woman that birthed you, William,»" he calls in fluent Arabic, his joking tone belying the insult.

William isn't cheating, like his power would let him cheat, so the sound of his fest powering down is audible. And oddly enough, the light flickers at almost exactly the same moment as Namir's. It was a mutual destruction. He pokes his head out from behind the rock to call back to Namir, in his own fluent Arabit "«Don't talk about my mama like that!»" His tone is joking as well, though.

Samantha rolls her eyes. They're speaking Arabic to each other? Nice. She hunkers down even more, somewhat childishly committed to staying put and maybe even emerging as not having fired a shot…but not having been hit, either.

Once again, Namir appears in plain view, rifle held pointed upward and elbow resting on the rail. With both their vests powered down, there's no threat — until they boot back up, that is. But there's still some time until that happens. "«Oh, did I get you? I suppose that means I win this round.»" He grins. Let the out-testosteroning begin.

William straightens up to lean casually against the fake boulder. "«Looks like I got you. Which means I win this round.»" He gestures with his gun up at Namir's powered down vest. "«I bet I shot you first.»" Not that he knows.

Round one sounds off, but the game's still on. Samantha keeps silent. Maybe they'll think she walked out of the game entirely! Clever Samantha is clever.

"«No, I am very sure I was the one who shot /you/ first,»" retorts Namir casually. For someone who is in the middle of a combat zone, he certainly doesn't seem worried that there will be a surprise attack from Samantha. Then again, vest powered down, it wouldn't do her much good /to/ shoot him right now. However, round two will begin shortly, and he doesn't want to be hanging around William when it happens. He moves away from the railing again and back out of sight. "«Excuse me, I have a doctor to kill.»" Oh Saaam~

"«Good luck.»" William calls before he falls silent again. He's moving for the ramp up to the high ground of the catwalk, moving as silently as possible. Maybe he'll be sneaking up on Namir, or passing him before the round starts.

Samantha is just staging in her wedge-like wedge, watching and waiting. She doesn't make a sound, but then again, she'd be surprised if she heard any. That's right, folks. She /expects/ her boyfriend to cheat like a lying dog. No houris for him in the afterlife!

And cheat he does. Once he's away from William (or at least on his /way/ away from William), Namir goes against the rules of chivalry and the rules of the establishment by launching himself over the railing to land on the floor below — but the sound of that landing is virtually nonexistent. Ninja, this one. By the time his vest boots up again, he's already on his way, inadvertently heading in the direction of Sam's squat spot. He'll be coming at her from the side, making use of whatever cover he can get in the process. At first he doesn't see her and is crouching behind a boulder not far from her position before he finally decides that the Thing behind that barrel over there is, in fact, his quarry. Drat. He might have been spotted by now, and so he remains behind his boulder, waiting, considering the best way to approach this.

William moves steathily along the catwalk. He's crouching low behind the railing. He finds a spot with a good view of the ground below and stays there. He turns his head towards where he heard a bit of a sound. Leaning over the railing, he searches for anything there he can take aim at.

Samantha suddenly grins, having spotted Namir, and brings her barrel the few degrees required to aim at him. Satisfied, the pulls the trigger. So what if it gives away her position? She just has to hit him once to satisfy her pride.

If there was any doubt on Namir's part as to what it was behind the barrel, that shot removes it. And it removes him from the round, as he wasn't quite down behind his boulder when she took that shot. To make matters worse, he doesn't even notice this (sounds muted as they are) until he's poked his head and gun around to take a shot at her. When his gun doesn't respond, he glances down to see the telltale flashing red light. /Damn/. He sighs, then flings himself out into the open and sprawls out on his back, eyes closed, tongue hanging out. Dead Namir is dead.

William may be amused by that death scene, but he's not showing it yet. He's got a task. Sam is still alive somewhere down there, and he needs to take her out. Watching her take Namir out gave him his first insight on where she is. The still alive man moves down the catwalk until he has a bit of a view of that specific corner. At least it's enough for him to take a shot. And maybe even hit enough of Sam for it to count.

Okay, /now/ Samantha lets out a squee of delight, which promptly makes no noise. "I knew you were cheating!" she says without sound, and then gets promptly shot. Nonetheless feeling victorious, she indulges in a little victory dance around Namir's body.

Oh, now that's just /low/ and uncalled for. It's bad enough he — a highly specialized gunman — just got shot and killed in a game of combat by his less-than-specialized-gunwoman girlfriend — she doesn't need to go /dancing/ around his corpse. Namir opens his eyes to see the victory dance and huffs as the sound comes back. Without warning, he surges upward and attempts to wrap his arms around Samantha and, if successful, bring her down with him (on top of him so as to avoid injury). If /that/ succeeds, he'll do his level best to start tickling her mercilessly through whatever openings the vest leaves.

William stands up and leans on the railing laughing. "Do I get to do a victory dance as the last one alive this round?" He calls down before he just rolls his eyes as Namir pulls Sam down on top of him, or at least tries. "You know if the vests turn back on, I'd have a really good shot at both of you."

"Halp! Halp!" Samantha is on the ground, legs flailing. "Well y'could get him /off/ me!" she calls out to William. Seriously. She one upped Namir. Pigs can now fly, as far as she's concerned. Of course, that's not a far step from people.

The tickle-torture doesn't last too long. Namir ceases the effort once he has sufficiently reasserted his manliness (because tickling women is totally manly) and simply grins down at Sam. "Don't let it get to your head, habibati," he snickers before giving her a quick, fond kiss and rising to his feet once more. "If you start dancing, William, I /will/ shoot you."

William grins down at Namir and points his weapon at the man jokingly. "I'll shoot you first. Besides, I dance well. Especially the end zone football dance. I've got moves." He states, his tone completely deadpan. He shrugs to Sam. "You seemed to be handling him just fine."

Samantha lets out a cackle, and rises to her feet. "Sorry." she says to William. "Believe me, you can shoot me now til high heaven, my day's been made."

Namir rolls his eyes good-naturedly. God, he'll never hear the end of this. "Samantha Applebaum, defending the laser tag arena from Muslims since— " he glances down at his watch, the numbers and hands of which glow in the dark "— twelve minutes ago." With that and a wink, he sets off once again down the corridor before the third round can begin. Clearly, the extended leave of absence he's taken from work has done more things to his game than he would like to admit.

The game continues through all rounds, and while he had a rocky start, Namir is the one who comes out victorious in the end. William claims rustiness as his excuse for losing and suggests a rematch at another time. Perhaps there shall be, but one thing is for sure: victorious as he was, Namir is going to be losing that one round over and over for a while to come.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License