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After weeks of hard missions and even harder conversations, d'Artagnan had been hesitant to go through anymore strange doors. Then he'd passed by one left slightly ajar and he'd heard music...smelled wonderful things, and curiosity had gotten the better of him. Luckily, going through the door had resulted in nothing but delight. It apparently passed through to something called an amusement park and d'Artagnan was amazed and definitely amused.

First had been the colorful spinning horses, then the wheel that went up into the sky, and then something insanely exhilarating called a roller coaster. D'Artagnan had ridden several of them more than once, only stopping when hunger sent him to the food stalls and toward something called a funnel cake.

And then, he had found something called the paintball range. Immediately, d'Artagnan was signing up for the next session.

[[He went through the amusement park door. Catch him at any point in his adventure!]]

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"A poor shot!" d'Artagnan shouted, affront overriding prudence as he charged over the top of the hay bales, paint guns blazing as he aimed for Aramis. "I'll give you a poor shot!"

Laughing as he fires back, there's no sense in trying to duck and Aramis has to admit the paint stings when it hits, but it's only when he runs out of ammunition that he stops firing.

At least he got d'Artagnan quite well-coated as well.

The both of them made a dreadful mess of paint and d'Artagnan didn't care, laughing delightedly at the madness of it all.

"We've got to get Porthos and Athos here!"

"Indeed." Aramis is flushed and feeling something of that excitement that comes from fighting - it's not quite the same, but it will do.

Of course, when he's scrubbing paint from his clothes, he may find this less appealing.

"I believe I can claim victory," he decides, looking d'Artagnan over.

"I believe we can call it a draw!" d'Artanan protested, gesturing to Aramis and his own paint-stained clothing.

There is a rather thick glob of yellow paint on d'Artagnan's chest which Aramis swipes at, so that he can then smear it on d'Artagnan's cheek, before fleeing for the exit with a laugh.

"HEY!" D'Artagnan gave an indignant shout and gave chase, his own paint-covered hands at the ready to tackle Aramis to the ground.

d'Artagnan is younger and faster and it's only dodging around people that allows Aramis to stay ahead. He stops with a food vendor between them. "Now, d'Artagnan," he says, biting back his smile. "It's chivalrous to accept defeat gracefully."

"You ought to take your own advice!" D'Artagnan retaliated by hurrying up the steps of a walkway to get ahead of him.

"Ah, but I am not the one who has paint all over his face," Aramis helpfully points out, countering d'Artagnan's movements to keep something - or someone - between them.

D'Artagnan grinned, rushing along the walkway and leaping down right in front of Aramis.

"Not for long!"

"Now, d'Artagnan.... " Aramis warns, raising a hand between them as he takes some steps back. "I would remind you that you should respect your elders..."

"And when you're old, I'll respect you!"

D'Artagnan lunged at Aramis, his paint-smeared hand going right for the face.

Aramis just barely manages to move out of the way, trying to use d'Artagnan's momentum against him. "Why," he says, moving to counter again. "That would mean you don't respect me. I'm hurt."

D'Artagnan sputtered and narrowly dodged a painful meeting with the pavement, scowling at him.

"I give you as much respect as you give me."

"Why, I think of you as a fine soldier and a finer man," Aramis says, hand to his chest with a wide grin. "Though a bit slow."

And with that, he starts to run again.

"You!" d'Artagnan bellowed it, but his face was still good natured and he hurried along after him.

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