I am flesh and I am bone

It really is about time you all stopped whining, don't you think?

Hello, residents and guests of the Hargreeves House. It's another day of waking up to something attached to your bedroom door. It's a largish box, containing a single Nerf Gun, one for each person in the room. And a shitload of ammunition, too. Peter's no dummy. He knows full well some of you guys have guests.

And there's a note attached in Peter's precise handwriting, signed with a tiny spider instead of a signature.

Good morning, family and guests. You are now part of a house-wide game of Nerf War. And before you say you aren't, you opened the note. That means, as per the rules of how we've always played this game, you're in.

The other rules are as follows:

No team-ups.
Every Man, Woman and Child (or Child-Shaped Person) for themselves.
Don't aim for the face or anything below the waist.
There are several flags within the house, each with either your name or your number on it. Once you have your flag, you must get it to your mini flagpole in the kitchen. You can steal other peoples flags, but only if it hasn't been placed yet.

If your flag is stolen, you have to wait exactly sixty seconds before you're in play again. Once your flag is placed, you're officially a non-target and can take it easy.


A change to the final rule, which I'm sure will delight everyone involved, Powers are allowed.

Consider this training and practice. Or consider it fun. I don't care.

P.H.



Have Fun, everyone! Peter expects none of the rules to be followed and won't fault anyone for teaming up. He also expects team-ups to end in sudden but inevitable betrayal.

You know, as one does in the Hargreeves house.

Another night, another drug bust. Get more of that shit off the streets and out of people's hands. This is what he lives for now, the adrenaline rush of the fight, throwing himself into battle as knives fly free and follow his direction to take out anyone who even tries to get close to him. It's perfect. Almost fun as he savages his way through the dealers and the buyers.

When the last one drops, his hand fists in a jacket, hauling them up bodily his arm cocked back to deliver a punch and ..

"Oh son of a bitch. What the hell are you doing here?"