Marie-Ange and 2/5ths of Fourteen. So MA and 5.6?

[xp_tarot]

Of course there were spiders in the garage. It was a garage, there were supposed to be spiders.

They were just not supposed to be the size of cats, or hissing, or hairy, or aggressive.

Marie-Ange had depleted her share of french profanity - and her supply of fire extinguishers, which had been effective against the nasty things, and was standing atop one of the cars kicking at spiders with sneaker-clad feet. Her sneakers were ruined, thankfully they had not been nice ones to start with. And she had gotten them on sale. "Cel.. Es... I do not know which one you are, throw me that bag!" She yelled at the blonde hair that passed the garage door at a run. "If you do not stop and throw me that bag I am going to tell Emma on you!"

Celeste and Phoebe stopped and turned to observe the room. Phoebe, clearly, was having trouble holding back a bit of laughter, while Celeste picked bits of spider legs off her blouse.

"For that to be an effective threat," Celeste remarked casually as she hefted the bag. "Emma would have had to have said more than three words to us in the past six months."

Still, she passed the bag to her 'sister', who was bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Ooh, heavy. Here, catch!"

Marie-Ange didn't catch the bag, but it landed on the roof of the car, half-flopped open, which was really all she needed. "Merci, and it was..." She kicked another spider. "Meant to grab your attention, so it was effective..." another spider. This was growing tedious. "I will repay you later, after we murder spiders, yes?" She dropped into a crouch, kicked another spider in it's disgusting hairy face, and pulled a cricket bag from the bag.

"... not what I expected..." She muttered - but it would work well enough.

Celeste shot another look at the pile of spiders attempting to climb up the car, then down at her own (now ruined) outfit. "You know what?" she said slowly, eyeing both the spiders and the cricket bat in Marie-Ange's hands. "This one's on us."

"Wait, wait wait wait wait, someone in the mansion plays cricket?!" That came from Phoebe, who had stopped bouncing and just stared at the bat. Such a weird thing to catch 14 off guard, but there it was. Cricket had been probably the only sport she hadn't tried, after all. This was almost shaping up to be a novel experience.

"Yes thank you for making saving your own life a freebie." Marie-Ange said, swung wildly with the bat, and sent a spider flying off the car. "Croquet mallets would be better but I do not know where those are." She bounced the bat in her hand once, eyed Phoebe, and nodded once before an identical bat appeared at the blonde's feet - complete with the spider guts on Marie-Ange's. "Yell when it dissolves, I can make more, they can only take so much damage before they go squish, I apologize for your shoes."

Celeste (tactfully) didn't point out that continuing to walk away would have been a perfectly viable option while Phoebe, of course, took the bat. It squished as she picked it up. Gross.

"Batter up!" Celeste called, punting a spider the size of a small puppy into the air with a diamond-sheened leg. It hit the peak of it's arch in the perfect spot for Phoebe to wind up and smash it, sending bits of spider and ecto-bullshit everywhere. Celeste gave her sister a look, brow cocked. "Watermelon?" Phoebe nodded. "Watermelon."

There clothes already ruined, the two charged into the fray with a blender of diamond legs and magic cricket bats.

Well, Marie-Ange supposed, twins often had their own language, so it stood to reason that quintuplets did as well. The spiders seemed to be ignoring the car, in favor of either running towards - or away - from the part-diamond twins-for-the-moment, which gave her a moment to breathe. She'd have been awe'd, but she had seen Emma fight. This was the same, just messier.

When 14 found a momentary lull in the spider massacre, she took a moment to check on Marie-Ange. "You alright?" she asked softly, before absently twisting around to punt another spider into the blender that was Phoebe's cricket bat.

"I am not injured, but I am covered in spider parts from the ankles down, I suppose it depends on how you define okay?" Marie-Ange had taken to just aiming the few bravely stupid spiders that were trying to climb the car towards Phoebe as well. Spider cricket a la baseball a la croquet was rather more entertaining than smashing them herself. "Are either of you injured? Are your other sisters safe?"

"My shoes are ruined and I doubt that the smell of spider will be coming out of the garage any time soon." There was a large and rather disgusting squish from somewhere behind them, and a gleeful laugh.

Celeste rolled her eyes. "At least Phoebe is having fun."

"As long as someone is. It is certainly not me." Marie-Ange watched as Phoebe swatted one spider into another spider, and raised an eyebrow. "Never have I ever wished for a flipcard with numerals in it more in my life, I very much wish to give your sister nine out of ten points for precision."

"Onl--" she ducked, letting a spider fly over her head and splatter on the concrete wall behind her. "Only a nine?"

She sounded strangely offended by that.

"Point deduction for telepathic aiming." Marie-Ange quipped.