( and he is, as promised. a forearm presses against the frame of julian's bedroom window as he throws himself over and out of it, wearing a worn tank-top and sun-dyed cargo shorts that he doesn't particularly give a shit about because - what's the worst sophie's going to do, make him come outside in shit clothes when someone exciting showed up? it's not like anyone in their group isn't used to him in pieces already as-is. )
(He'll find Sophie looking very basic โ a turtleneck and sweatpants, a pair of goggles, but look, she can be forgiven for not looking exactly her best either given the activity. She's not going to shout when she sees him from above, but she'll gesture at the obstacle course that she put together, the ball pit for the paint, and she tilts her head towards it.)
/Oh, rules of the paint wars, no flying and no telepathy. Now get down here and fight me./
( if they're planning on getting dirty, there's no need to waste perfectly good clothes on looking presentable. granted, that isn't really something the cuckoos would have gone for, but. sophie's going for that whole independent thing these days, right? so the branching away from the whole cuckoo thing makes sense.
she tells him to get down and he does, with a little roll of his eyes. )
One of us sucks at flying so neither of us can?
( granted, they could say the same about telepathy, but. )
You sure you don't want to grab Quire to even it out a little? I'd hate to embarrass you by taking you out in two second flat.
Nope. My Christmas gift to you is to get completely annihilated by a hot blonde. Non-transferrable.
(Which she says with a laugh, before she approaches with that little smile that tells him she's absolutely up to something. Because she is.
Her chin goes to his chest, and she smiles for a second before she distances, taking the paintball in her hand and smashing it directly onto his chest.
And she's off to the nearest defense post, bringing some more ammunition surrounded in a pink glow towards her.)
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but it isn't. fly out the window it will all make sense
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( and he is, as promised. a forearm presses against the frame of julian's bedroom window as he throws himself over and out of it, wearing a worn tank-top and sun-dyed cargo shorts that he doesn't particularly give a shit about because - what's the worst sophie's going to do, make him come outside in shit clothes when someone exciting showed up? it's not like anyone in their group isn't used to him in pieces already as-is. )
no subject
/Oh, rules of the paint wars, no flying and no telepathy. Now get down here and fight me./
no subject
she tells him to get down and he does, with a little roll of his eyes. )
One of us sucks at flying so neither of us can?
( granted, they could say the same about telepathy, but. )
You sure you don't want to grab Quire to even it out a little? I'd hate to embarrass you by taking you out in two second flat.
no subject
(Which she says with a laugh, before she approaches with that little smile that tells him she's absolutely up to something. Because she is.
Her chin goes to his chest, and she smiles for a second before she distances, taking the paintball in her hand and smashing it directly onto his chest.
And she's off to the nearest defense post, bringing some more ammunition surrounded in a pink glow towards her.)