Voting said:
[X] [Training] Brawling 6
[X] [Church] Distance yourself.
[X] [Altercation] Interfere. You must stop these men.
-[X] [Interfere] Immediately. This cannot wait.
[X] [Activity] Driving. You're old enough to get your driver's permit. Surely a few classes wouldn't hurt.
[X] [Free Time] Research the parahumans in the bay, especially the gangs.
[X] [Free Time] A Lion may be a bit much... but what about finding and caring for a cat, after all, cats are fun sized lions... Right?!
[X] [Purchase] Aketon, baton, and burner phone
"Okay, you'll want to ease off the clutch while pressing down the gas at the same time–"
The car jerked forward and then stalled out. I frowned. I had released the clutch a bit too quickly, perhaps.
My driving instructor sighed next to me. "Well, that happens. It's a good thing we're not dealing with any hills yet."
Pressing the clutch down, I restarted the car. This time, I held the clutch a bit longer, allowing the engine to rev before smoothly accelerating forward. I turned the wheel, keeping the car in first gear for the moment as we rolled along the circular track.
Gamemaster said:
"Oh, good job. It usually takes new learners a few tries before they pick it up. Have you driven at all before?"
"I have not," I replied. "However, while it is impossible to avoid error entirely, one should not repeat their mistakes."
"Well, sure, in theory. It's the execution that usually messes people up, Miss Stansfield."
I made a small noise of acknowledgement, shifting the car up into second gear. "That is fair. Once I am more experienced with cars, I would be interested in obtaining my Motorcycle license. Would you be able to assist with that as well?"
"I'd have to run it by your parents, but I don't see the issue myself."
"Thank you," I said, shifting the car into neutral and letting us coast to a stop. I would not turn sixteen until December, so I had some time before I could actually obtain a license, but I would need to log hours spent driving towards my learner's permit in the meantime. "Are we scheduled for the same time next week?"
"We are through the rest of summer. Well, except for your vacation in July, your mom told me you wouldn't be here that week."
My lips thinned. A vacation? How kind of Mother to inform me of our plans, much less ask.
"I am afraid I could not speak to any specific plans we might have yet."
"Hey, no worries. So were your parents picking you up today, or…?"
"My brother. He is on a date at the moment, but will be meeting me once they finish up. I thought I might walk around the area while I waited."
Look, a date is basically a rendezvous. He says he's going to play, but it's a chance for a man to appeal to a woman he likes.
The memory rose as if from a dream. A nostalgic smile crossed my lips. Where had I heard that?
My instructor frowned. "Well… I mean, this neighborhood is probably safe for you, but be careful. Nowhere in the city is completely safe these days. You're always welcome to just hang out at the course until your brother gets here."
"That will not be necessary. I have been taking self-defense courses recently as well – I am confident I can at least run away should I need to."
My instructor frowned, but it wasn't untrue. After the incident with the hooligan at the mall, I had spoken to Father about the issue. The city was dangerous, there was no getting away from that fact. Twice, I had been in danger in a space that should have been safe. I needed to know how to defend myself.
It had taken more convincing than I expected, but he had agreed in the end. Moreover, I had excelled in the class thus far. It was simple. Use my full body to generate power behind my strikes. Use their center of gravity against them. Lock their joints. It felt familiar – just unpracticed.
Leaving the driving course, I stopped briefly in the building's lobby to collect my things – a blue and gold leather jacket (Arcadia's colors, though the jacket lacked any sort of accompanying logo) and a baseball cap. I tucked my hair into the hat, letting it stream out the back in a ponytail, quickly sent a text message off to Dean, and stepped out into the bright sunlight of the summer afternoon, a pair of tinted glasses hiding my eyes.
The neighborhood itself, while not quite as affluent as the Boardwalk, was still fairly upscale and well kept, close enough to downtown that it hadn't suffered from the rot and decay that afflicted much of the northern half of the city. Most of the buildings were red brick and white wood, the sort of homes and shops that wouldn't have looked out of place constructed in the 50's. Small coffee shops, cafes, and bookstores dotted the street.
I settled on a bench and pulled out my phone, flicking through to the post I had made on the local boards of Parahumans Online. There were threats in my city, and the best way to educate myself was to ask for the wisdom of others. In short, the outlook was not particularly positive.
The city was infested with gangs.
The first, and most notable perhaps was the Empire Eighty-Eight. A collection of white supremacists and open neo-Nazis. It was filled with the sort of filth who preyed on the weak and acted as if it were a virtue. They crowed about protecting good, hard-working American citizens, but that included only those who agreed with them. If you were too Black, too Asian, too Jewish, too Foreign, too Disabled, too Liberal, or just plain too different from them, then you were a target to be eliminated.
Their greatest rival was, and I felt my mouth twisting in distaste just reading the name, the Azn Bad Boyz. I suppose it was too much to hope that criminals would have any sense of class. Regardless, the Azn Bad Boyz were a more recent gang, having consolidated out of a number of smaller gangs a mere two years ago. Unlike the Empire, which worshiped an ideology, the Azn Bad Boyz were held together almost entirely by force of will of the man who had created the gang.
Lung.
A parahuman who had made a splash when he entered the local cape scene by reportedly engaging with the entire local Protectorate at once and emerging victorious. Since then, there had been little success in dislodging him.
Then there were the smaller gangs. Drug pushers, street gangs, and mercenaries for hire. The East Side Kings, the Archer's Bridge Merchants, the Cobras. Most of them were two-bit players at best. An odd stand out was a group of mercenaries that operated downtown – apparently they had access to tinkertech equipment and offered protection services for hire. No one quite knew who their backer was, though they must have one given the expense of their equipment.
Gamemaster said:
Gain a check to Recognize.
Letting out a soft sigh, I closed my phone again and looked up at the sky. A blue, cloudless expanse hung above me, stretching on as far as I could see. So far, yet there was a feeling as if I could reach up and touch it. And perhaps, if I reached up, someone else's hand would as well.
Knowing it was impossible, yet reaching all the same.
For a moment, the city fell away. I stood in a grassy field, the same blue sky stretching endlessly above, a forest in the distance. I stared out. Waiting. Waiting for something.
I began to lift my hand, only to retract it. My chest felt strangely tight and I could not say why. Lowering my head into my hands, I let a shuddering breath tear through me. What was wrong with me? Why did I feel this way?
Why did I feel this yearning within me?
A sound eventually tore me from my thoughts. A small, plaintive meow. Glancing down, I looked at the gray tabby that had joined me on the bench.
"Ah–"
The cat stepped forward to bump its head against my arm and I smiled, tracing my thumb gently behind its ear.
"Well, hello there. Aren't you a handsome fellow?" The cat purred, tilting its head up to allow me to scratch under its chin. Oddly enough, considering how sociable he was, the cat did not wear a collar. "What are you doing here?"
Gamemaster said:
Awareness: 12 | 3 = Failure
The cat provided no answer, of course. Instead, he spun a circle, brushing his side up against me, his tail tickling at my nose. A soft giggle escaped me and I leaned in to grab him, pulling him up onto my lap. He stepped back and forth, kneading his paws, before finally settling down, my fingers tracing along his back.
What a friendly child. I considered briefly whether I should name him. It was possible that he already had one. Possible even, that he already had an owner. He was skinny, perhaps a bit underfed, but hardly starving.
"No, better that I not get overly attached." I would not take this child away from whatever home he had here.
Regretfully, I pulled the cat from my lap and walked away. It was with some amusement that I noted the cat trotting after me, dogging at my heels. A stubborn little thing. Well, if he was that insistent…
The stench of blood and a grunt of pain brought me to a stop. I turned, looking down a narrow alley to where three men surrounded another. One swung a bat, and the beset man fell to the ground, his knee shattered.
"I told you what would happen if you didn't pay up, didn't I? You were lucky we were even letting you operate down here – not like we need businesses owned by heebs in this area."
"I'm not –"
"What, got something to say, Jew?"
Another of the thugs lashed out with his foot, catching the man in the ribs.
"I was trying to pay," the man wheezed. "Sales have been down this month."
"Always the same story with your type." The thug lifted his foot and stomped down on the man's hand.
My jaw clenched. This was wrong. These men, abominations.
I stepped into the alley, heart pounding my chest. This could not continue.
Gamemaster said:
Gain a check to Honor.
Gain a check to Reckless.
"Stop!"
"The fuck do you want, girl?"
"Step away from that man. Now."
One of the thugs rolled his eyes. "Run along, girl, before you get hurt."
"Disperse, or I will make you do so."
"God save me from children who want to play at being heroes. Jake? Grab her and hold her down or something. It's fine if you rough her up a little, but try not to hurt her too bad."
The man who had been singled out shrugged and stepped forward. He looked… surprisingly normal. Brown hair, wide shoulders. He looked about college-aged, but with the sort of build that suggested he could have played football. He gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry about this. Really, you still could just run away, save yourself the trouble."
"I refuse."
"Right. Then, I suppose we're doing this."
Battle Rolls said:
Invoke Passion: Honor: 7 | 15 = Success (+5 to Brawling threshold)
Elaine Brawling: 6 | 7(+5) = Success
Jake Brawling: 13 | 8 = Failure
>Elaine wins the contest.
>>Damage: (3d6=10) (0 Armor Reduction) = 10 damage dealt to Jake. (14/24 HP)
Elaine Brawling: 18 | 7(+5) = Failure
Jake Brawling: 11 | 8 = Failure
>Mutual failure.
Elaine Brawling: 2 | 7(+5) = Success
Jake Brawling: 18 | 8 = Failure
>Elaine wins the contest.
>>Damage: (3d6=13) (0 Armor Reduction) = 13 damage dealt to Jake. (1/24 HP)
>>>Jake takes a Major Wound and is knocked unconscious.
The man,
Jake, lunged at me, but I was prepared for it. He wasn't using his fists, just trying to grab me, but that was dangerous enough in and of itself. I wasn't particularly large or strong. If I was pinned, I would have difficulty escaping.
Instead, I ducked under his lunge, my hand darting into my jacket pocket. When I had started my self-defense lessons, I hadn't relied solely upon learning how to punch and kick. Instead, I wrapped my hand around the handle of my telescopic baton, flicking it out to whack Jake's ribs as he passed.
He let out a wheeze, stumbling a few steps before spinning around to glare at me. Jeers came in from the sidelines, his friends taunting him.
"Come on, Jake! You gonna take that from a girl?"
"Show her what a real man is made of!"
"God, shut up both of you." Jake put a fist into his palm, cracking his knuckles. "Look, girl. You keep this up and I will have to hurt you. I'd suggest you stop now."
"I would offer you the same courtesy. Leave now, and I will let you go in peace."
"Well, I warned you."
Jake charged, and once again I weaved beneath his blow to deliver one of my own. It seemed he had learned from last time however. Even as I evaded him, he brought his arms down to guard himself, protecting himself from a second blow to the ribs. Not entirely unintelligent then. I would have to vary things up somewhat.
This time, I attacked first, aiming high with my baton. He flinched and stepped back, not trained to ignore that primal response that occurs when you see something moving towards your face at high speeds. He tried to raise his arms to block at the last second, but was too late and my baton cracked him across the skull.
He fell to a heap on the ground.
I looked to the two remaining, who stared back at me wide-eyed.
"Did this bitch just kill Jake?"
"I dunno. Maybe just knocked him unconscious–"
"No, head injuries like that are really dangerous. God, we'll need to take him to a hospital. Fuck it. Let's fuck her up and get out of here."
Both men advanced on me, bats slung over their shoulders. My lips tightened. It was one thing fighting one on one against a man with no weapon, but the odds with multiple opponents were significantly worse.
Battle Rolls said:
Elaine Brawling: 2 | 7(+5)(-5 Outnumbered) = Success
Thug A Melee: 20 | 8(+5 Outnumbered) = Fumble!
>Elaine wins the contest.
>>Damage: (3d6=12) (0 Armor Reduction) = 12 damage dealt to Thug A. (12/24 HP)
>>Thug A is dealt a Major Wound and knocked out of combat. His weapon breaks.
Elaine Brawling: 8 | 7(+5)(-5 Outnumbered) = Failure
Thug B Melee: 3 | 8(+5 Outnumbered) = Success
>Thug B wins the contest.
>>Damage: (3d6=12) (5 Armor Reduction) = 7 damage dealt to Elaine. (25/32 HP)
>>Knockdown? Dexterity: 6 | 12 = Success
Elaine Brawling: 16 | 7(+5) = Failure
Thug B Melee: 16 | 8 = Failure
>Mutual Failure.
Elaine Brawling: 10 | 7(+5) = Success
Thug B Melee: 7 | 8 = Success
>Elaine wins the contest.
>>Damage: (3d6=11) (0 Armor Reduction) = 11 damage dealt to Thug B. (13/24 HP)
Elaine Brawling: 5 | 7(+5) = Success
Thug B Melee: 9 | 8 = Failure
>Elaine wins the contest.
>>Damage: (3d6=8) (0 Armor Reduction) = 8 damage dealt to Thug B. (5/24 HP)
>>Thug B is knocked unconscious.
The man on my right swung and I spun into it, raising a hand to slap the bat from below as I passed under it, throwing its trajectory off. I twisted, my baton swinging around to shatter the man's knee. He brought his bat up in both hands, as if to defend himself from my follow up attack, but I simply kicked through the wood and slammed my foot into his face.
Unfortunately, this left me open to his ally. Pain seared across my back as a bat caught me across my shoulders. I went stumbling for a few steps before I managed to steady myself and turn, wildly swinging a counter attack that came nowhere close to my opponent.
Damn it. I was lucky I was wearing my jacket. That had hurt even through the extra padding.
"Shit! Ray! Who the hell are you, girl?"
"You are asking that rather late, are you not?"
"Ugh." The final thug spit off to the side and widened his legs, holding the bat in both hands. Was he… Was he going to try and hit me as if I were a baseball? That stance was all wrong for actual combat. A part of me felt distinctly offended. I walked forward to the edge of his range and let him swing, simply leaning back a bit so that the bat would bypass me. Unfortunately, he was quicker to recover than I anticipated, and I had to abandon my follow up attack to gain distance again.
Still, the man was clearly nervous. The narrow passage of the alleyway did not allow for me to actively circle around him, but I paced back and forth, watching his eyes follow me. When I finally struck, it was faster than he could follow.
My baton found his elbow and he cried out, his hand reflexively loosening on the bat. He tried to attack me one-handed, but I didn't allow it, already circling behind him to sweep his feet out from under him. One final blow to the head and he was out.
In the aftermath, I stood there, panting, staring at what I'd done.
I had beaten three men, three armed men, into the ground. I'd never fought before in my life. I'd had a grand total of two weeks of self-defense classes. This shouldn't have been possible. What had I even been thinking?
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I turned away from them and kneeled to attend to the man they had been attacking. He was broken, bruised, and bloodied – but still conscious. He turned his eyes up to me as I approached.
"Damn. You wiped the floor with them."
I gave a small smile at the comment. "It was my pleasure to do so. Are you okay?"
He shook his head, but fished a phone out of his pocket after a moment. "If you could call the ambulance, I'd appreciate it. Cops too, I suppose."
Nodding, I took the phone, dialing the number in.
"Hello, 911, where's your emergency?"
"There are four men badly injured in an alleyway near Miller and Rockland. They require immediate medical assistance."
"What was your name, Miss?"
Gamemaster said:
Honest: 19 | 11 = Failure
I glanced down at the bodies of the men I had just finished injuring quite severely. This… probably would not be a good thing to admit to. "My name is not important. Was there any additional information you needed?"
"Are you injured at all, Miss?"
"No. I am fine."
"Alright. I've sent the message out to Dispatch, so they should be on their way. Just hang tight, okay?"
"Thank you."
Well, I suppose that was my cue to leave if I wished to remain anonymous. I turned back to the injured man, handing him his phone. "Will you be able to manage if I leave?"
"Yeah, I think so. They got a few good hits in, but I can wait for the paramedics. Does my heroine have a name?"
"None that I would like associated with this, I think. I suppose if the police ask, you can call me X or some such."
"A woman of mystery, huh?" The man laughed, but it quickly turned into a wheeze. "Well, Miss X, best of luck out there."
"Thank you." I smiled softly and placed a hand on his shoulder before turning to leave, a strange sense of pride welling up within me.
A Hero, hm? A person who would save everyone that they could see. An impossible dream, but I smiled nonetheless. I might not be a cape, but why should that stop me from being a hero?
Of course, if I was going to do that and retain my anonymity, I would need a disposable phone. I could not rely on victims always giving me theirs to call in with. Something to consider, perhaps.
Gamemaster said:
Passion for Heroism [Civility] gained at (3d6+3) = 16
Gamemaster said:
Renown gained (3 Thugs x 5) = 15
You don't know how tempted I was to make a 'Stop right there, criminal scum,' joke. Also, you guys got incredibly lucky with your combat rolls. Especially taking one of the teamed pair out on round 1 with the exact damage you needed to deal a major wound. Nuts. Anyways,
It is June of 2010.
The Mysterious Heroine, X, has had her first fight. How will she proceed?
[ ] [Heroism] Design a name and costume.
>You can't just be X forever.
[ ] [Heroism] You took that bat hit strangely well. Maybe you should check yourself for powers?
>There's no way this can go poorly. At least you're smart enough not to jump off a building to see if you can fly.
[ ] [Heroism] Look into types of Parahumans.
>If you're going out doing hero things, you're bound to run into them at some point. Knowing the difference between a brute and a breaker will probably be good.
[ ] [Heroism] Study your first aid.
>You might need to treat injured people in the future.
Your mother is dragging you to a Gala. What do you fill time with while there? (This is in addition to any events that may occur while at the gala).
[ ] [Gala] Gossip
[ ] [Gala] Flirt
[ ] [Gala] Indulge in good food.
While at the gala, you're seated with a group to socialize with. Who are you with?
[ ] [Socialize] The Anders
>Theo is a bit quiet, but not too bad for company.
[ ] [Socialize] The Alcotts
>Your brother might be friends with Rory Christner, but you wound up shoved to a table with his cousin instead.
[ ] [Socialize] The Dallons
>Mostly just Vicky and Amy here at your brother's invitation.
[ ] [Socialize] The Mystery
>You're seated with someone you don't know. She looks about your age, at least.
A strange cat has followed you home. What do you name him? (The quest master reserves the right to Veto).
[ ] [Cat] (Write-In)
Not immediately relevant, as you don't have the equipment yet, but something to keep in mind for the future. What will your main fighting style be? Note: Fighting style will shift depending on situation and equipment (i.e., even if you are two-handed, you will take a shield out if there's bullets flying), this is just your 'default.'
[ ] [Equipment] Two-Handed
>Deal an additional 2d6 damage, but can't gain the benefits of a shield.
[ ] [Equipment] One-Handed
>Deal less damage, but gain the benefits of a shield.
It's summer and you've got some free time to spend between parties and heroics. How do you spend it?
[ ] [Free Time] (Write-In)
