Whereas Becca assumed the ‘pirates’ were some sort of prank, Lily assumed they were some sort of costumed villains. The very thing her family had warned her over and over again when she decided to move here for college.
While Becca boldly confronted them, Lily quickly pulled up her phone’s Super911 app. Activating the App immediately sent a message and location to 911, while live streaming the phone’s video. She began filming the Gorean Barbarians, trying to hide her face behind the phone as she did so.
By the southern orange doors, the smaller man with the maces crouches for only a moment. Then, with a mechanical whirring sound, he leaps into the air, covering the distance from the doors to the stage in a single bound. The mace in his right hand crackles with electrical energy as he swings it at the Councilwoman. She was just beginning to rise from her seat when the blow struck. She falls to her knees, crying out in pain.
"You will all remain seated," he says, the microphones at the table amplifying his voice. "Just let us do our work and this will all be over soon."
Shock rolled over Becca, and she reflexively ducked as the man jumped. He jumped. "It's a pigeon, it's a Cessna." Then he attacked the Councilwoman. This was serious, and they were trapped. Doors blocked, except for the one that he had just vacated. Pointing, Becca lifts her folding chair and yells, "Go, get out of here." The chair was to be a shield until she needed it as a projectile. She carried it over a shoulder to protect her back while she took aim to throw it at anyone trying to block the recently vacated orange door. He was yelling, but so was she, and she was moving. This wasn't some kind of student stunt, people were being hurt, and she would clear a path for as many as could to get away.
Many of the students and others in the gymnasium are too afraid or stunned to react, but Becca's cry of encouragement to leave the place get through to more than a few.
At least a half dozen, perhaps as many as ten react, though they act with all the coordination of kindergartners in a fire drill. Brad Pressman is running at Becca's side as they approach the recently vacated orange doors.
What group were these people with? 'Knights of the Hunt' didn't sound like any political organization she had heard of ... maybe the hunt part could apply to a second amendment group. But that was a stretch since these were clearly not the normal sorts of weapons associated with the second amendment. Was that the point? Some sort of 'quit trying to ban guns, you can hurt people without them' type deal?
The latex woman didn't make a ton of sense in that context, though. The closest Kaylee can get to figuring that out is the chain is a metaphor for tyranny. But a fox tail? She would have expected sheep imagery. Foxes were considered clever though - maybe that was it - some sort of, 'no matter how clever you are, they'll still put you on a leash' type thing. Eh, didn't really seem to fit.
And much less so when the first guy leaps at the stage and takes a swing. Any hesitation in Kaylee vanishes instantly. You couldn't bring violence to a debate, no matter what your point is!
Flight wasn't really an option. They had the doors on the bleacher side covered, still. And sitting down, taking it, and waiting for some authority to rescue her wasn't exactly what she had psyched herself up for.
She herself slides over to the edge, looking to drop into the 'alley' space between the bleachers and the weight room, on the blue door side. Neither the archer, nor the blowgun girl (if that's what the pipe was) should be able to get an angle on her there. But before she drops, there's one order of business to attend to.
"Hey, asshole! I get you're pissed the fetish club kicked you out, but that doesn't give you the right to hit women!" Using her best stadium voice, Kaylee tries to summon their attention, waving her arm over her head to make sure they pick her out before she drops into the 'alley', trying to flatten against the wall; sliding towards the corner so that if the archer comes around, she has a chance at pouncing on her to mess with the shot.
Not that Kaylee was sure anyone was coming, in fact, she kind of figured the archer would have orders to cover the student body in general, and Kaylee wasn't in the right direction for them to keep an eye on both. If she did come after the cheerleader, at least it would mean she wasn't on the rest of the students. And hey, fleeing under the bleachers was still a possibility. That's got to be an obstructed shot, at least.
The woman with the blowgun has the top of the pipe raised to take a shot toward the students running to the southern orange door.
But the taunt from the cheerleader catches her attention. She brings the weapon around, but her potential new target slips down beneath the bleachers.
The woman does not make a move to follow. She remains in place, covering her door, but her eyes remain locked on the space beneath the bleachers, watching for any sign of the taunting woman who dipped below.
Gina looks over in annoyance as the doors slam open, expecting more rabble-rousers coordinated to support Kaylee's outburst. It takes her a moment to realize all four doors had opened at the same time, something more coordinated than she would expect from some obnoxious students. When she sees their coordinated and outlandish outfits, her eyes widen in alarm and she suddenly starts to feel very, very unsafe. For a moment she considers that they may be here for the politicians and too professional, despite their dramatic attire, to bother engaging bystanders - but then she sees the gimp in banana-yellow latex. She knows immediately that these people are cruel and looking for someone weak to victimize. Someone like her.
I have to hide! Gina's eyes dart around the room in the space of less than a second. Under the bleachers? They'd check there, certainly - at best she'd be their final victim. The rooms off to the sides? Their doors are right next to the gymnasium entrances, she could never get in undetected. Her fingers dig into her thighs as she realizes there's nowhere for her to go, nothing she can do to defend herself. She's about to become a statistic.
She can only blink in shock at Becca and Kaylee as they both seem to pass the attackers off as costumed posers. What the hell are they thinking?! How could they not realize these people are supervillains? It wasn't as if Freedom City lacked for them. Are they from out of state? Are they in denial? Are they superheroes?
And then, Gina realizes it doesn't matter to her. One of the doors is now clear. The female villains have ranged weapons, but not guns - they can't shoot down everyone running. If Gina slips into the crowd running for the exit, the odds are on her side. In a frantic, desperate movement, Gina leaps out of her chair, knocking it loudly to the floor in her wake. Her uncoordinated launch almost sends her tumbling to the floor, but she catches herself with her hands and scrambles like an animal for a few paces before pushing herself back up to her feet, too focused to even scream as she sprints for the exit.
Gina will use two move actions to head towards the exist. She will also attempt a DC 15 Athletics check to increase her speed, getting a...2. Technically she suffers no ill effects for failing the attempt, but I worked her lack of athleticism into the post.
The archer does not leave her post across by the blue doors across the room from where the small crowd, including Gina and Becca, is headed. She calmly draws an arrow from her quiver, lifts her bow, and then fires it across the gymnasium. As the arrow flies, it spins quickly. Steel tendrils twirl in the air behind it. Her target is Becca, who is clearly organizing the others in the venue.
Roll : 16 + 4 (skill) - 5 (long range) = 15.
When it strikes, the tendrils from the tip of the arrow whip around wildly to coil around whatever they hit.
If hit, Becca would make a DC 15 Dodge Check.
The brute at the other orange door does not leave his post. Instead, he takes a short step forward, pulling the blind fox-girl with him. He pressed a button on the post in his hand and the top of it begins to glow red.
"No! Don't! Plea-" his captive cries out desperately.
Her pleading is cut off abruptly when he thrusts the post down onto the ground. Her body goes tense as energy pulses from the pillar, up the chain, and to the collar around her throat. Her mouth stays open in a silent scream.
At that same moment, every single person in the room other than the five newcomers, Becca, Lily, Gina, and Kayla drop to the floor. Regardless of what they were doing, they all simultaneously go catatonic. The ones who were running toward the door slide a few more feet as they drop. Others slump in their chairs or fall to the ground from standing. Phones hit the wood gym floor from all around.
If your character was looking toward the stage and makes a DC 12 Perception check, your character would notice that there is a distinct pause, perhaps only a second, between when everyone else falls and when Representative Collins falls.
Lily’s mind always worked so much faster than her body. As she sat frozen in place behind her phone, her mind raced about the room. Supervillain drills told her the first thing to do was get the hell out of the area. That wasn’t a terrible idea. They’d initially covered all the exits, but one exit was cleared, prompting a stampede in that direction.
But why did they make that exit so tempting? They had to know people would flee that way. Trap? Could be a trap.
This didn’t feel like a mass casualty scenario. Who brought Renne Faire armaments to kill a bunch of students? Heck, even Mr. Macey Pants’ mace seemed more like a cattle prod than a brain smasher.
Why’d he hit the councilwoman and not the Representative? Admittedly, she was starting to get up, but bashing a lady in heels and ignoring a man who’s brand was bravado seemed odd.
Then everything went mad. The archer fired her bow at the fleeing students while the latex gimp minder fiddled with his rod, and not in the way you’d imagine given that sentence’s structure. Lily had no idea what the rod was supposed to do but saw what it did do. Everyone, well, almost everyone, suddenly fell over like puppets with cut strings. The Representative, who was already a bit sus, seemed to take a moment to fall, like he saw everyone else fall and thought, ‘That’s a good idea,’ and followed suit.
Oh fuck. That was a good idea. A good idea that came too late for Lily. Her entire plan had been to not draw notice, and here she was, one of the only people not playing 1-2-3 Mousey.
Blinking, she looked around at the scene, the offered a shy thumbs up to the gimp minder, “Umm… cool stick?”
With a quick sweep, Becca checks the baddies, her hopes that they were clear rising as she notices the others were not moving to intercept, then she noticed the archer's aim. Directly at them. With a diving twist, she spins the chair off her shoulder and whips it into the air, trying to intercept the blooming arrow. What does that mean? Her thoughts were confused as to why the arrow was splintering.
Dodge roll with the chair throw, 1d20 +5 Dodge
roll [12]
Result: 17
As the chair and the arrow seemed to collide, Becca fell to the floor, her dive feeling much cooler than it probably looked as she hoped the arrow was deflected or neutralized for those running. Then she felt the pain in her shoulder. Why was cool so painful? Ouch. Bracing her palm to the floor in an effort to rise, the magic hit. Everybody she was trying to get clear, just fell, plowig the court with unresisting slides. Ooh, that was going to leave a rash. She did get a cheap smile, as she noticed that Mr. Perfect hair was mussed with the spill. Aloe will help, she had some in her pack. Rising, she turned, her efforts wasted, her shoulder hurting, and the chair now cast aside. The tentacles writhing over and through the chair's folded legs told her she didn't want that weapon back.
She stood, her hatred showing even as she moved back into the room to stand between the fallen and those who had attacked.
"I've got four active on scanners," the Mace Wielder announces to the suddenly very quiet gymnasium. "Bring them in nice and clean."
He hops down off the stage, a shorter jump this time that brings him a dozen feet or so away from Gina. His weapons crackle with electricity as he slowly approaches the purple-haired student.
As she stood to defend the fallen, she notices that Gina still stands. Gina, the mousy, terrified girl who came to her and spoke. No, that can't happen! "Hey, Taserface!" Becca began to run, her eyes on the arrows and blowgun. If they raised her way, well, she would die, or whatever. Again, as she reached the edge of the seating, she whirled, grabbing a chair with each hand, and completing the spin, released them each in turn at the mace wielding brute. her hopes, derail his target, hit him and stun him, protect her. What was he talking about, why were they still standing, and why did everyone else just take a nap.
Much more like what I expected, and if you want to penalize the rolls for multiple attacks I understand, improvised weapons, all manner of deficiencies, go for it. She is not a range artist, she is running stall tactics while she gets in close, if she can..
1d20 +3 range attack with chair
roll [3]
total 6 I see this roll sending the chair high and off target to crash behind and about fifteen feet away from the assailant
roll [19]
total 22 due to possible penalties, I will not speculate trajectory or effect
Multiple attacks, like you described, are only possible with a specific extra. You could either go with one attack that is flavored as 'tossing two chairs' or throw one chair this round and then the other the next round.
The flying chair misses its mark, but catches the Mace-Wielder's attention, drawing him away from Gina. Instead, he closes on Becca.
"You shall not stop the Hunt from collecting its prey, woman! Submit or feel my wrath!"
Despite the suggestion of his words that he is offering quarter, he swings a mace at Becca.
Dice Roll: 18 + 5 = 23, for a hit.
Make a Toughness Check (d20 + Toughness) against a difficulty of 20.
Kaylee watches as some sort of arrow goes flying past the opening of the "alley", though this causes her to totally miss anything unusual near the stage. OK. All that's between her and the exit is the archer woman. Sure, the blowgun chick was a bit of a threat, but as long as Kaylee ended up around where the archer was standing, there'd be a set of bleachers between them.
As for combat capability, she had to figure of all the hostiles ... the archer is likely the one least ready for close combat. And she just fired, meaning the woman is in the process of fetching another arrow. Of course, Kaylee's not exactly a world class fighter herself, but how much skill does it take to crash into someone and knock them over, anyhow? It's not like it was one of the brutes. All she's gotta do is take this one scrawny looking girl down, then the door is right there.
She really should have brought her pepper spray! But there was no help for it now. Kaylee darts around the corner, sprinting for the archer, intent on plowing into her before she can get her arrow ready, or the blowgun girl can figure out what she's up to.
The mace strikes Becca, sending a jolt of electricity through her that shocks her to her core.
Becca is "Staggered" by the blow.
Kaylee comes around the corner, completely catching the archer by surprise and ramming into her.
Die Roll: 7 +1 (Toughness) = 1 Degree of failure.
The Archer suffers a hit (Bruise) for -1 on future Resistance checks vs. Damage.
The woman with the blowgun scans those remaining standing briefly before picking a target. She sees Lily near the Mace Wielder and takes a shot. A thin, syringe-like dart fires out of the end of the blowpipe toward her target.
Die Roll: 14 + 4 (Skill) -2 (Medium Range) = 16, a hit.
Make a DC 15 Resistance check vs. Fortitude.
Lily gets a mighty 4 on her fortitude save, and is mighty ticked off that she’s following all the orders and is still getting attacked. I’m fine with her just being knocked out if it advances the scene.
“Ow!” Lily cries out as the dart hits her between her smallish breasts. She slapped it away by instinct as she shouted out, “What the hell, lady!?!? I’m beha…. AAAAYYY!!!” Her shout transformed into a short, abrupt, shriek of pain as her body tensed and curled into a tight, awkward fetal pose before she tumbled to the side and rolled down to the next lower row of the bleachers.
Any tenseness in her body was gone as she settled bonelessly, either unconscious or dead. Her fallen cellphone still recording a riveting image of the gymnasium’s industrial ceiling.
As the dart hits, it injects with it a faintly glowing green liquid into its target. Whatever the serum is, it is as though every fibre of her body reacts to it. There is a flash of intense pain and then she falls to the ground unconscious.
From behind her, Gina hears a desperate plea cut off, then everyone running ahead of her slumping limply to the floor. A spike of horror shoots through her heart. Are they dead? Why wasn't she affected?
Don't think about it, just run! Gina was counting on the crowd to provide multiple targets, improving her individual odds of escape. Now she feels incredibly vulnerable, waiting for an arrow or blowdart to land between her shoulder blades. Instead, she sees the mace-wielder land ahead of her. With no other options, she keeps sprinting, but there's no way she can outrun. She's dead, dead - and then a folding chair clatters hard on the floor next to him, drawing his attention to Becca.
She must be a superhero, she thinks. Or crazy. Gina is neither. She sprints past the melee without looking back, pushing herself to reach the doors. Her legs pound the wood gymnasium floor with power and tempo she never knew she was capable of. She has, on occasion, jogged to catch a class on time, ran to beat the monorail to a station, and even sprinted to satisfy a draconian phys ed teacher back in high school, but she's never moved like this.
Gina will roll Athletics to increase her speed rank by 1 (essentially doubling it), succeeding with a 17.
In close with Kaylee, the archer takes the arrow she had begun to draw and thrusts it toward the cheerleader. The tendrils dangling from the tip activate at once.
Die Roll: 11 + 4 = 15, a hit
DC 15 Dodge Check
Snare Effect
1st Degree: Hindered and Vulnerable
2nd Degree: Defenseless and Immobilized
As Gina runs with all speed, bursting through the doors and into the hallway beyond, the Brute lopes after her. While he appears to be putting almost no effort into the chase, he moves with stunning speed, easily catching up to her.
"Oh yes," he calls out to her as he reaches her. "So good when they run."
He makes a grab at her.
Die Roll: 17 + 4 = 21, a hit.
Opposed Strength vs. Strength or Dodge (Gina's Choice)
His Strength Roll: 8 + 4 = 12.
1st Degree: Gina is Restrained (Hindered, Immobile, and Vulnerable)
2nd Degree: Gina is Bound (Defenseless, Immobile, and Impaired)
Gina hears an unfamiliar, masculine voice close behind her - way too close. A moment later, something grabs the hood of her hoodie and yanks backwards. Gina's sneakers squeak on the floor as she twists in mid-stride, letting the hoodie slip over her head and her arms out of the sleeves, slipping away from the man's grasp for another second.
Becca's eyes got big as this huge fool, instead of fighting with any grace, swings that electric mace. With a quick step back, not fast enough, she took the strike hard right between the breasts. "Oof," She hit the ground, hard. This should have knocked the breath out of her, yet she had already lost her breath, this stung in a whole new fashion. The slight wisp of smoke from the electrical burn coupled with the blurring of her vision from the blow itself, put everything in a haze of pain.
She rolled, but could only come up to her hands and knees and this was slow moving. Coughing, she tries to get a breath to fill her lungs. Coughing and gasping, she sports a huge smile as she looks up into his face, "Whew, thought I was up against a super or something. You just like to go half naked and beat women like any other pedophile." Her words are little more than a gasp, but the taunt is clearly there.
The mace wielder's brow furrows for a moment as he looks down at Becca. His maces are held down by his side. Up close, Becca can now see that part of his face, around his left eye and half of that cheek, appear different. The skin looks shinier, and the eye moves on its own, twitching and scanning.
"Fuck you," he hisses angrilly. "I am a super. They picked me to lead the team to replace Wildcard. Me, you stupid bitch. They believe in me. They know I can do this!"
Obviously shaken by Becca's taunt, his words sound far more confident than the tenor of his voice sounds.
After slamming into Robin Mask, Kaylee bounces back slightly from the blow, agile feet turning beneath her. Thank all that's mighty she hadn't worn heels today. She had been considering a fan-boosting outfit for the inevitable Youtube posts she was planning after the debate - nothing too fancy, but something more than crop n' jeans. Sure, Kaylee was right on the issues, but there were a lot of people with opinions on the Internet. There were several channels for "right on the issues". There weren't many that mixed them with dance videos. That was the price of admission to people's brainspace.
But she had been running late after Madison Walker pulled her aside after practice and blathered on about new dance moves for the next game and did her patented "oh just one more tiny thing" every time Kaylee tried to bail. Such a narcissist! So something fast had been her only choice. But it was paying off now. Normally, she'd mentally thank Madison, but c'mon, somethings are just beyond the pale. That'd be worse than going out with a Kohl's handbag -- that was on clearance!
Her Amiri-brand sneakers weren't on clearance, nor from Kohl's. But there were nonetheless comfortable and easy to move in. As the archer whips out one of her arrows and tries to stab Kaylee with it, she spins out of reach by the slimmest of margins. But hey, close calls are incredibly stylish, right? Not that anyone's looking, but Kaylee will know. And so will Robin Mask.
Her eyes trace over the other woman's fetish getup. Ridiculous. But Kaylee didn't have time to launch into a fashion critique right now. She had been hoping to put the other woman on her ass, to buy an extra few seconds to get away. But that didn't happen. Which leaves Kaylee with two choices. Attempt to snatch one of the arrows for herself, or get the f--- out of dodge.
Kaylee was stubborn, independent, resistant to authority. Maybe even a little athletic. Valorous? She wouldn't say that. But they do say there's a 'better part of valor' and Kaylee figures now is an excellent time to exercise that. It's only a slight turn to face the doors behind the archer, and she takes off at top speed. Fortunately, running is precisely what gym floors are designed for and she's through the door in excellent time.
Which leaves her in a parking lot. On one hand, she could wait by the door and try to catch Robin by surprise if she came through. Trouble is that would leave Kaylee herself exposed, and the archer hadn't been the wilting flower Kaylee had been hoping for when hit. Sure, she did something ... but a hit like that would have knocked Kaylee herself for a loop, at least phased her. It seemed likely Robin was just tougher than Kaylee was. Guess it makes sense. She's probably a masochist given that outfit.
In any case, Kaylee wasn't looking forward to tangling with the woman directly. But if she slips behind one of these cars, the archer will have no shot. With any luck, Kaylee could lose her entirely shortly afterward.
Hiding behind a Prius, she gives a little exhale of relief, and leans against its trunk. With its bulbous design, there's no way any pursuer would ...
Rolled a 3. But I'm sure the +2 agi will make all the difference.
... miss the flashing and honking as the f---ing car alarm goes off!
The woman with the blowgun was just starting to take aim at Kaylee when her target dashed through the doors and out of the gym. She turns instead to survey the rest of the gym. The only target remaining is Becca.
"Tishtrya!" She calls out. "Snap out of it! Runner at the back door!"
She moves in close to the stage, loads another dart into her pipe, and then fires it at her target.
Die Roll: 11 + 4 (Skill) = 15, a hit.
Becca, make a DC 15 Resistance vs. Fortitude.
Success (15 or higher) = No effect, but still a flash of intense pain and the feeling that her body is reacting to the stuff in a negative fashion.
One Degree of Failure (10 to 14) = Fatigued [Hindered, half normal movement speed]
Two Degrees of Failure (5 to 9) = Exhausted [Impaired (-2 on checks) and Hindered]
Three Degrees of Failure (Less than 5) = Asleep ([Defenseless, Stunned, and Unaware]
As Becca tries to get her wind, the dolt with the electro-maces begins to whine, heheh, she got to Taserface, "You? Replace Wildcard? Ha! Inconvenienced by the rejects from the Land of Broken Supers. Taserface, an archer who can't his shit, the singer who can't be heard, her domme who fumbled a simple grab. You think you lead this group? The only one with any skill here is the chick who know's how to blow the full pipe there. Lemme guess, she carries your pickup line in the form of a rag of chloroform." Then the dart hits Becca, parting the cascade of hair with a bright red flaring of the dart's fletching, burying itself in her neck. Her arms give out, dropping her to her face, "Yep, looks like you have another date. I.... like... French food, and... jewelry." Then she collapses, to lay there on the floor, panting from the exertion of trying to resist the blow, catch her breath, resist the pain and finally struggle against the exhausting effects of the poison on the dart. Too much. She lay there, unable to do more than struggle to raise her hand. She couldn't even flip the jerk off.
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