FOOD FIGHT

[letsgolegion]

Who| Anyone who wants in
What| FOOD FIIIGHT
Where| The Mess Hall
When| A few days after "Resistance is Futile" and "An Eye For An Eye"
Warnings/Notes| Nope. Just some good clean fun

The last missions had been rough, but all missions were pretty rough anymore. Still, there was an extra bit of horribleness in seeing innocent people transformed into monsters, especially when it happened to teammates. A few had faced even more trauma while trying to put said teammates down, before it was known that the zombies could regenerate or that a cure was possible.

So the Mess Hall is tense and quiet in the days after the missions. Nobody's being very social, the native Legionnaires are quiet, even the staff are quiet when they're usually pretty chatty in the Mess. Everyone's caught in a groove of that sluggish post-crisis emotional exhaustion.

But then the donut hits. It goes in a soaring arc through the air and hits its target in the face, frosting first.

Everything freezes and stares wide-eyed, trying to figure out who threw it. The tension ratchets up a notch.

Then it breaks.

Someone takes advantage of the moment to do something they've dreamed of emulating from every kid or teen comedy they've ever seen, and screams:

"FOOOOD FIIIIGHT!"

It isn't long before tofurkey rains from the air like a plague. Noodles whip across the room in handfuls. Various rainbow colored puddings and deserts soon become dangerous artillery. Even the staff, who'd spent all that time making the food, gets in on it, taking advantage of the moment to do something wild they never dreamed they'd be able to do - throw mashed potatoes at the faces of the people they serve every day.

The Legion hasn't had an easy time of things over this last year or so, and it hasn't been getting any easier. But they have this moment, on the other side of yet another mission they survived, after yet more villains they've beaten. And right now, the worst they all have to worry about is getting soy whipped cream in their hair.

[ooc: Feel free to make whatever threads you want, with your characters doing whatever they want.]

Comments

the instigator

[brisance]

Whomever is sitting next to Carolina may notice the woman, now decked out her proper Legion uniform, sitting at her spot, with a large cup of coffee and some fruit to go with her donut.

It's one of the first proper non-hospital meals she's had since she's arrived. And yet, the attitude of the cafeteria is somber, strained. She knows what they've been through, though she didn't go through it herself.

So she turns her gaze to a man nearby with brown hair at the next table over - he looks just as somber as the rest of them. Calmly, with minimal movements, she picks up her donut, and chucks it overhand towards him.

It hits him square in the face - his nose even peeks through the hole.

[taumangaria]

1: Cultural Differences

Cybertronians consume energon, which is more of a fuel than a meal, and is still rare and valuable in the aftermath of a millenia-long war. It's still odd to Sawtooth that it can be synthesized so easily on Legion World, or that it's obtainable in the same area where food is made, but if it works for the Legion's staffers, then it works for him. That said, he doesn't spend much time in the mess hall - what's the point?

He's also never seen any kid or teen comedies, so when the donut is thrown and what looks like all-out war breaks out, he-

...well, he panics momentarily and hides under a table. What is going on? Did something else happen? Has everyone lost their minds? He has no idea, and as long as that's the case, he definitely doesn't want to get involved.


2: Mission Accepted

After he's had an explanation as to what's happening and been informed that it's not actually dangerous and should, in fact, be fun, he sees no reason not to join in. He darts in between people and tables, tossing spaghetti into hair and hurling drinks like grenades, grinning toothily all the while. A particularly unlucky person might find a trident, moving all on its own thanks to once again functional flight rings, catapulting an entire pie at their face.

closed to Pidge

[captainbuzzkill]

Dipper's still looking around in surprise and amusement when she comes across him. He doesn't see her at first because he's just sort of enjoying that the food fight is actually a thing that's happening.

It's every kid's dream that they can be involved in an actual food fight.

Which means he's not on guard at all and his teke field isn't up.

[lovernotafighter]

Food fights? It wouldn’t be Tucker’s first, although his had a tendency to be a real legitimate fight, if only because a young alien son could be a little…bitey with his food. And people. And everything. But he had grown mostly out of it, and once that stage passed, that had been (mostly) that.

This? This seemed way more good natured, easy, relaxed. Tucker wasn’t sure who started it, but he wasn’t mad; this place sure as hell needed something uplifting like this after what they had been through. Just as long as it wasn’t precious alcohol, he personally didn’t have to clean it up, and it didn’t get in his hair, he was fine. Hell, he was more than fine; he was happy.

So, picking up a roll and tossing it a few times in his hand to test the weight, he flung it high in the air and hoped it would land on someone good. Why not? Let’s do this shit.

[earlgay]

If nothing else, he could have been struck in the face. As it is, Gaelio lurches back in his seat as a handful of noodles whip him on the head, a persistent string or two clinging to his hair. With an indignant yelp, he reaches up to untangle the offensive food from his bang.

"What's the meaning of this? I just got here, and food's flying all over the place! Who—"

Perhaps he should have kept quiet, for a colorful pudding sails gracefully across the hall and nails Gaelio in the mouth. He swings backward from the unexpected impact of the ill-timed dessert, possibly headbutting any hapless souls behind him in the process. Pity; he'd just wanted to eat his exotic meal in peace.