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Issue#1 "First Measures"


Nina

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Chicago, Illinois, United States of America.

3rd week of January.

Crime  Complaint statistics for the first three weeks of January this year…

Murder – 36

Criminal Sexual Asslt – 150

Robbery – 688

Agg Battery – 442

Burglary – 538

Theft – 1244

Mtr Vehicle Theft – 1734

Shooting incidents – 139  (this is the number of persons who have been victims of Gun Violence taken from the above complaints)

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It was cold but not raining when Riley Verges and Micheal Weatherly stepped out of the door of The Coach House and turned to cross the Lilac Tiger’s back courtyard to the street beyond.  Before they were halfway there a shout brought them up short as a half dozen paparazzi came around the corner, cameras already flashing.

 

“Shit,” mumbled Weatherly, “Sorry RJ someone must have tipped them off.” Weatherly, better known as MR. INVINCIBLE, waved at the photographers and gave them his award-winning smile.

 

RJ grimaced and kept her head down, not letting anyone get a clear shot of her face. It may have helped her practice to be seen and identified with Chicago’s #1 Superhero but it would really fuck up her privacy, something she did not need or want.

 

Weatherly pushed his way past the paparazzi all the while chatting with them and charming them being the center of attention as only he could. Once they got to the street he turned and faced them, shaking his head but still grinning,  “Come on guys a little privacy,” then he turned away and hustled RJ across the street and toward where they had parked the car.  As they approached the dark sedan both SPBs* easily picked out the sounds of distant gunfire.

*SPB = Super Powered Being

 

RJ stopped and looked toward the sounds while Micheal opened her door. “That sounds only four or five blocks away.”

 

Micheal paused, looked at RJ, glanced toward the sounds and shrugged. “Yeah maybe, but I’m sure the cops are on their way.” He steps close to her and puts his hands on her waist, “I’m feeling kind of frisky, how about you?”

 

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Odette glided through the canyons created by the skyscrapers, she was restless. The new semester had started and she should have been studying but she had felt stifled at the dorm. She had snuck out and was now soaring through the city.

 

It was midweek and quiet. The sky was overcast but at least it wasn't raining or heaven forbid, snowing.

 

It was 9:46 according to her suit, when her audio sensors picked up the staccato sounds of gunfire. She zeroes on on the sounds and angles that way. In a few minutes during which there had been even more gunfire from the same direction, Odette landed on the corner of a roof overlooking an intersection.

 

At the far corner of the intersection was an all night check cashing place. In front of the establishment three masked persons with hand guns were exchanging fire with four other masked persons across the street. All of the combatants were taking cover behind various parked cars.

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Gwen Jenner and Marc Holt were in the same class, Science Communication: Crafting a Science Think Piece. While an elective for their respective degree programs it was one which was considered currently to be a REQUIRED elective.

 

They had been at work since after dinner in the Main Library on the first paper of the course. Luckily it was one which could be done either solo or in a group. The two had shared classes in the past and were if not the best of friends, at least they were close enough to share a work ethic and respect each other’s privacy.

 

As the hour approached for the library to close the two compiled their work and settled on how to present it at their next class. The two students exited the Library and decided to get a coffee and snack at the convenience store nearby. As they crossed the quad, they observed three girls of Asian descent berating a fourth who was sitting on the steps leading up to Residence Commons. The three girls were well dressed in a preppy manor and were speaking loudly and in what Gwen and Marc assumed was Chinese or some other Asian language. The fourth girl, also Asian, was bundled up against the cold in a worn over coat, her only distinguishing feature were her large ears poking out through her hair. She sat there still eyes downcast, as the others seemed to make fun of her. Gwen and Marc noticed that the girl raised her eyes and looked directly at them.

 

Before either could react the door at the top of the steps opened and another girl came out. The three bullies quieted as the new girl took in the scene then she spoke sharply at the three girls in Chinese. The three all gave little bows of their heads toward the girl at the top of the stairs and then quickly trotted away with one throwing an apology, in English at the girl on the stair.

 

By this time Gwen and Marc had recognized the new girl as the Teaching Assistant in the class they shared, Her name was Emily Tsan. Emily came down the stair and crouched by the other girl and spoke to her softly. The girl nodded a lot then got up and went inside the commons. Emily stood brushed the wrinkles from the front of her coat and turned to look at Gwen and Marc who were only a few meters away.

 

Emily Tsan was Asian, petite, wearing a soft grey overcoat, a green turtleneck sweater and black pants tucked into winter boots. She carried a small purse slung over her shoulder. All of the clothes looked fashionable, expensive, and new. She was very pretty with large expressive green eyes which were never still.

 

 Marc and Gwen, who had been attending Uchicago for the last three years, had never seen Emily Tsan until she had been introduced to the class at the beginning of term as Assistant Professor Bimm’s Teaching Assistant.

 

The three of them stood there in the cold quad for several moments, an awkward silence hanging in the air. 

 

“Are you two dating,” asked Emily?

 

Spoiler

 Emily Tsan   p3.thumb.jpg.a990a231e2a89fc7507f363fe553d171.jpg

 

Spoiler

Second City is Active

 

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Marc looked at Emily with an almost shocked look.  "What? Us, a couple?  No, we're friends and classmates."  He had never really thought about Gwen like that.  Sure they had classes together the last three years, and he'd call her a friend, but romance? That wasn't what he thought of at all.  

He quickly regained his composure.  "What makes you think that?  Also, what was all of that about?"  He'd understood the tone, if not what was actually being said.  "Is that girl going to be alright?"

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Emily looks back and forth between Gwen and Marc, somewhat amused by the boys reaction. Emily shrugs, "Good, dating someone you are working with rarely works out, it is better just to be friends."

 

At the mention of the other girl who had been being bullied, Emily looks back the way the Girl had gone. "Her name is Hanami, she is new here. The others are all from Nationalist families, she is Taiwanese." She shrugs again. 

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"I am a-" RJ bit off the rest of the sentence, her lips pressing into a scowl as she twisted to look over a shoulder at Michael.

She had lost her shield over a year ago. Really, she hadn't been a cop since she'd been gunned down in that drug lab two years ago. The brass in the CPD seemed to be shunning her, and while she still had contacts in the force she could ask for favours, she wasn't welcome in cop bars or CPD events anymore. If she had recovered - and far more than they could ever suspect - she was still a reminder of what could befall any of them.

She was just a neophyte PI now with a new business just getting off the ground. But that didn't mean she cared less for her former brothers and sisters in blue, as whole, if not as individuals. And she loved Chicago, despite the state the city was in. When RJ had been a patrolman, before The Event, she rarely had to draw her weapon, and even more rarely, fire it. But after The Event, Chicago began to spiral down, and hard, and it was much more dangerous for those wearing the uniform.

It was much less dangerous for her, now, if far less legal. RJ wished that was her first thought, but it was only a very close second. The first was there were some gunmen, some criminals out there, just a short ways away, and she wanted to give them a beating. She hadn't had any luck tracking down the fucker Zaluski  - Yet! -that had led her into the drug lab where her partner Sean died - and she nearly had - so payback was still waiting for him, but there was plenty of scum in Chicago that needed scrubbing in the meantime.

"-I'm just gonna soften them up for the cops, some," RJ amended, cocking her head, straining her ears. There were at least three or four distinct guns firing, she could hear the difference in the echoes bouncing off building walls. She twisted around in Michael's embrace, a hand going around his neck. One of Michael's hands went down to her improbably firm ass, giving it a squeeze, and she could feel his manhood pressing against her.

"There's only a few of them, and you know how I am," Thanks to my ex-husband I have the sex drive of a particularly horny, teenage boy, the bastard, "and how I get after a 'night on the town'." She pulled him close with the strength of over one hundred men and gave him a long, hard kiss, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth, then she whispered in his ear. "And I'm not wearing any underwear."

Mr. Invincible stepped back with a small gasp and then gave Riley Jay Verges an appreciative once over. It was clear she wasn't wearing any undergarments, and just as clear, she didn't need any, every inch of her inhumanly firm and proud. If she hadn't had her issues with CPD and a complete non-presence on social media, she'd be very bankable. As tall as he was with her heels, absolutely gorgeous in an eerily perfected Instagram type of way, incredibly fit without being too buff, fantastic curves, young looking, but with too much experience in her too blue eyes. And a total demon in the sack that had ended up with having to replace furniture more than once.

"I noticed. And I'd like to explore that more. And those don't look like butt-kicking shoes."

Right... Neither was the halter style, little black dress straining across her breasts and behind, an expensive piece from before she couldn't afford to replace without her ex's income and her partial pension. The short, black leather jacket was fine, though she had worn it mostly for the pockets than for fashion. She missed her shoulder rig and sidearm, but it was more for show than effectiveness or necessity anyway. She'd been expecting a dinner and a vigorous hook-up, not what still felt like work. And thinking of dinner, while the tasting menu at The Coach House was amazing, she could have eaten at least three times as much and was still hungry.

"They aren't," RJ agreed, slipping out of her strappy, open-toe stilettos. Should have gone with the chunky heels, even if they don't go with this dress. She had had to use all her superhuman agility to stay on her toes, since these heels hadn't been designed for someone over three hundred pounds, though she looked like she weighed half that at most. She plucked them up with a pair of fingers and held them out to Michael with a wicked grin, the asphalt cool on her bare feet. "Hold on to these for me? I'll only be a few minutes, then I'll meet you back at your place. Leave the balcony door unlocked. Hell, with traffic, I might even get there before you do."

Michael rolled his eyes, sighed, then took the shoes and tossed them onto the passenger seat before climbing in behind the wheel of his luxury sedan. "My place then, but don't take too long, I'm a popular guy," Michael said, looking up at RJ and flashing her his charming, boyish grin. "And get yourself some Socials, RJ. You're wasted on this PI and undercover vigilante shit."

RJ scoffed then blew him a kiss. She was starting to like that PI and undercover vigilante shit. Her skills as a police officer and detective were fully transferable. And a boost with her visibility and popularity, while would get her more work, would make the work harder.

She skirted around the car, took a quick, incisive look around to make sure it was clear, then slipped into an alley and broke into a light jog - that was Olympic sprinter speeds - and headed towards the sounds of gunfire, bare feet surprisingly quiet, unconcerned about the hard ground or what she might step on. From a pocket, she pulled out a small rod and held it tucked up against her wrist, ready to extend it with a flick. She'd fuck them up with a few broken bones, leave the clean up for the boys in blue, then head back for her own very enthusiastic fucking with a man she couldn't accidentally break.

Edited by Asarasa
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Cassandra scowled under her mask, taking in the deadly skirmish below her. Back when she was younger, back when she was so insanely under the pressure of making it out of this city to her first and second choice schools, she had been able to file this under 'someone else's problem'. Even after that before she got her powers, she had filed it under 'too big a problem for her'. Well, now she had powers *and* was here for two more years to finish her degree, so it was her problem if she wanted to look her reflection in the eye before bed.

 

Three shooters vs four shooters. And no means of distinguishing who was less likely to turn on her once she dealt with the other side. Nothing for it then.

 

The deadly dancer dropped from her hiding place on softly-glowing wings of light towards a pair sheltering behind a blue car. Coming down enpointe, she relied on her flight to push against quite-literally thin air into a spinning kick into her first target. Not pausing to see if the man she hit stayed down, her scarlet eye lens followed the spin into a graceful one-two-three shift to bring her into range to power one fist into a punch intended to bounce the other man against his automobile barricade.

 

Spoiler

Spliting it into two swings against Gunman #1 and #2 Respectively.

Gunman #1

[6d6] Roll: [5, 4, 3, 3, 2, 1] Two Successes...

Gunman #2

[6d6] Roll: [5, 5, 5, 3, 2, 1] One Success.

 

Oh well. Got a defense of 8 dice on tap should that be needed. 🙂

  

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"Her name is Hanami, she is new here. The others are all from Nationalist families, she is Taiwanese."

 

Gwen grimaced slightly. "Politics rears its ugly head. You'd think, you're studying overseas, what a great chance to leave all the baggage of your homeland behind and see the world through new eyes. But...not everyone sees it that way. We should do something nice for her, Marc."

 

She gave Marc a grin, then added to Emily, "Was that question your way of seeing if one, or both, of us are available?" in a good-natured, teasing tone.

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Marc nodded.   "We can do that, if you want."  He had no idea what she had in mind, but he did feel slightly bad about how she'd looked at them, and they'd not intervened.   When she turned to question Emily again, Marc's eyes widened at what she asked, and then narrowed.   "You keep joking about that someone's gonna take you serious Gwen."  he said light-heartedly.  They weren't romantically involved, just friends who shared a few classes.  They worked well enough together that they generally chose each other over any other choices for group projects.

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In the Quade...

On 4/2/2024 at 11:50 PM, SalmonMax said:

Gwen grimaced slightly. "Politics rears its ugly head. You'd think, you're studying overseas, what a great chance to leave all the baggage of your homeland behind and see the world through new eyes. But...not everyone sees it that way. We should do something nice for her, Marc."

 

 Emily shakes her head and moves closer to Gwen and Marc so she doesn’t have to talk loud, "Asians, even those born here in America, have to live in two worlds, the West and the East. Those girls, except for Hinomi, are natural born citizens but their families are Chinese from Fujian province. Taiwan is off the coast of Fujian. Hinomi is here on a scholarship. She doesn't have any family here and she does not have a lot of money or things." Emily shrugs, "Those other girls are spoiled bullies who just echo what their elders tell them and do not think for themselves. They will not bother her again."

 

 

On 4/2/2024 at 11:50 PM, SalmonMax said:

Gwen gave Marc a grin, then added to Emily, "Was that question your way of seeing if one, or both, of us are available?" in a good-natured, teasing tone

 

“No, I just wanted to know since you are both in the class I am teaching assistant in. Don’t let Assistant Professor Bimm’s demeanor fool you, he is a very exacting instructor and does not cut anyone any slack.

 

Plus, you are both abnormally tall, you look like a couple.”

 

Spoiler

for reference Emily looks to be about 5'  or a little bit more in her boots

 

 

At the Quickie-Check...

 

Rj skidded to a stop at the corner and peered around just in time to see the costumed person land behind two of the masked gunmen and lay them out in a series of elegant moves. The other two shooters on this side saw the action as well and turned their guns on the winged assailant blasting away at them with a hail of lead!

 

Spoiler

Odette needs to roll her defense.

 

The three gunmen on the other corner paused their fire and were joined by two more men from out of the Quickie-Check, one carrying two large canvas bags, the other a combat shotgun.

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Marc shrugged.  "Nope, not a couple.  We've just had classes together and become friends who enjoy working together."  listening to her talk about Hanami, he nodded.  "What did you say to them to make them leave so quickly?"  While it was true, he was over a foot taller than Emily, there were others at the school taller even than him.   He'd heard about Bimm from a senior he was in the "unofficial" gaming club with. He was a hardass teacher, but He did actually teach his classes.   It was something that Marc had noticed more and more, some of the teachers here really phoned it in for some classes.

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With a practiced eye, RJ noted hostiles and friendlies, her incredible eyesight letting her pick out details from across the intersection and at night, even if there were streetlights. Skintones, eye colour, tattoos. One gunman had yellowed teeth, another a grill. She tried to pick up their scents, but there was too much cordite in the air and all she could really get was the gunmen were all men.

She gave herself a tight, wry grin at the sight of the costumed woman. She'd been a cop for too long to be sanguine at the sight of a vigilante, but had to remind herself she was here to be the same thing. She wanted to stop the thieves from getting away with their loot, but instinct drove her in protecting a civilian and backing up a partner under attack rather than going after a suspect. And at least until she knew otherwise, she'd count the woman in the costume as a partner.

Unfortunately, RJ didn't wear a costume, and she didn't even really have anything on hand to disguise herself, not a balaclava or ski mask like she typically wore on 'suspect' nights out, or even a kerchief for an improvised face mask. Oh well, there's the old standby I've developed and use the weapons of mass distraction. She slipped off her leather jacket, tugged down the neckline of her dress and rolled up the hem, turning her tasteful, if tight, little black dress into an indecent little black dress.

As the two gunmen turned and fired at Odette, she saw a woman sway and swirl into view behind the gunmen from around the corner with a hollered and exuberant, "Whoo!"

To Odette, the astonishingly woman with rich brown hair with a hint of red to it, cut to chin-length, looked about her own age, maybe a bit shorter, but more athletic and curvaceous, taut figure well displayed in a little black dress about ready to burst. The Instagram Fitness Goddess or whoever she was looked to have been enjoying a night on the town and stumbled into trouble. She was even missing her shoes.

"Oh! Wow! Is this, like, a gang fight?" the woman chirped with oblivious concern as she continued to approach the two gunmen on this side of the intersection with too much sway to her steps. If the woman was trying to sound like a drunken ditz, she wasn't doing a great job in Odette's estimation. Her tone was too clipped, and despite appearances, her movements were too graceful, not like a dancer, but like an athlete, or a predator, too sure and economical. "Two guys on one girl? No fair! And she doesn't even have a gun. You shouldn't either!"

Before the first gunman could even turn around, RJ reached out and grabbed his gun by the barrel and ripped it from his hands as easily as taking candy from a sleeping baby, breaking his trigger finger and the shoulder-strap. She twisted and threw it across the intersection at the figure with the shotgun standing by the other man with the pair of bulging duffel bags. The firearm whistled through the air, moving faster than a Major League fastball.

RJ continued her spun flowed toward the other gunman firing at the winged woman, her other hand flicked, and the rod in her hand extended into a composite baton with a sharp snap. With a pause, RJ brought it down on the gunman's extended arm between wrist and elbow with a smooth and deceptive strong motion. Something cracked. Before turning to look back at her first two victims, she glance up at the flying woman and nodded towards the other gang across the street.

"Still up for taking down the rest?" There was nothing drunken or airheaded in RJ's electric blue, almost neon blue, eyes, and her voice was cool and collected. "At an estimation, at this time of night and in this district, we have about four minutes before the police show up, if these assholes tripped the alarms."

 

Spoiler

Charm Roll to feign being a drunken ditz
- Asarasa Request: [4d6] Roll: [5, 4, 3, 3] Result: 1 success

2 Multiple Actions
1st Action - Performing a Grab on the first gunman's gun
- [6, 6, 5, 3, 2, 2, 2] Result: 7 successes.

Assuming at least 3 net successes, the Full Grab is a Free Action, so will immediately follow up with throwing the gun at the gunman with the shotgun.
-Asarasa Request: [7d6] Roll: [6, 5, 5, 3, 2, 1, 1] Result: 3 Successes

2nd Action - Hitting the gunman on his gun arm with her baton (doesn't add Equipment Bonus, since RJ is already at the cap, it's just for appearances)

-[6, 3, 3, 2, 2, 1, 1] Result: 4 successes.

RJ has Armor 9, so is completely immune to physical and energy attacks if their attack rank is less than or equal to half her Armor rank [5] (unless they have the Penetrating Pro). When dealing with Minions, use their unmodified Threat rank as their attack rank when determining if she is immune to their attacks.

 

Edited by Asarasa
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Spoiler

Evasion Roll

[8d6] Roll: [6, 6, 5, 4, 4, 3, 2, 1] that would 7 Succs...

Apparently good enough. Yay.

Attack roll number One

[6d6] Roll: [6, 6, 4, 2, 2, 1] 6 Successes.

Attack roll number Two

[6d6] Roll: [3, 2, 2, 1, 1, 1] Only Two Successes for Thug #2.

 

Instincts she hadn't possessed before that night at the library freed her from the tyranny of gravity sang at her as the thugs opened fire on her. Deadly trajectories were low notes in the background music of violence and Cassie was a conductor of the tune. She danced in midair through the barrage, a ghostly white figure borne on glowing wings. She came out of her dodge closer to one of her targets. Well, former target as the striking newcomer laid into him and used their weapons as improptu projectiles.  

 

She considered the woman from behind red-glowing lens before nodding, voice distorted behind the air filters of her mask, "Shouldn't be a problem."

 

An entirely performative tap of one booted toe on the ground had her arcing at the next closest armed thug, shoulder checking him with far more force than someone her size should be able to manage. Feeling the air puff out of his lungs as he made his own much-less-controlled flight, Odette used the counter momentum to come up and down again on a second target in a gravity-assisted axe kick.

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  • 2 weeks later...

“No, I just wanted to know since you are both in the class I am teaching assistant in. Don’t let Assistant Professor Bimm’s demeanor fool you, he is a very exacting instructor and does not cut anyone any slack.

 

Plus, you are both abnormally tall, you look like a couple.”

 

That got a good laugh out of Gwen, and she listened to the advice about Bimm with a nod.

 

"So you must have had him as a professor before you TA'ed then, right? Any juicy stories about Bimm, or the class or anything like that?"

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At the Quickie Check…

 

The gun that RJ threw slammed into the shotgun man with a lout smack! He dropped like a sack of potatoes and the gunmen at that side of the street all paused then shifted their fire at RJ.

 

Bullets flew pock marking the bricks behind RJ and shattering windows in cars but none came close to the attractive hero.

Odette finished off her opponents and the two women faced the thugs across the street.

 

In the quad…

10 hours ago, SalmonMax said:

"So you must have had him as a professor before you TA'ed then, right? Any juicy stories about Bimm, or the class or anything like that?"

 

Emily shakes her head, “No I was at university in Shanghai for the last few years, but I met Professor Bimm at a seminar last year and when he found out I was transferring back to the states he asked if I want to be a TA for him.” She shrugs, “The money doesn’t hurt,: she says with a grin.

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Marc nodded.  "Headhunted by the Professor, that's pretty cool.  He must have been very impressed with you."   Marc had had several classes with Professor Titus over in the Engineering Department, he was in line to be the next department head as things stood.  He had a good relationship with Professor Titus, earning top marks in each of his classes.  "Thanks again for the heads up on Professor Bimm."

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At the Quad...

 

Emily smiled at Marc, he was kind of cute, "No problem, I know how easy going he is and that gives students who are unprepared a false sense of security. But then I don't think either of you are unprepared, are you?"

 

Just then a stream of chinese growled out of the shadows by the corner leading to the canteen. "那么志浩现在和白人挂在一起了?"

 

Emily stiffened and glanced at the shadows as four asian youths in their late teens or early twenties stepped out of the shadows. All four were dressed in fashionable suits with button down shirts with no ties. The youngest three wore black with white shirts while the eldest, the one who spoke, wore a light grey suit with a pink shirt. All four wore several rings and each wore a chain necklace of gold. Emily turns her head toward Marc and Gwen, "You guys better go." She turned back to the fancy boys "约翰尼,你知道大学是禁区,你为什么来这里?"

 

Translation

Spoiler

 "那么志浩现在和白人挂在一起了?"  =  so ZhiHao hanging with the whites now?

 

约翰尼,你知道大学是禁区,你为什么来这里?= Johnny, you know University is off limits, why are you here?

 

 

Note

Spoiler

While some effort will be made to use actual and proper locations since we are set in an actual place Some time dramatic edits to real locations will have to be made to fit the story.  This is Chicago but it is a fictionalized chicago and sometimes the maps may not fit exactly.

 

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Gwen looked the newcomers over, but didn't have to think too hard about what she was seeing. She knew gangsters when she saw them. Nation of origin be damned.

 

She took Mark's sleeve and said, "Yeah...uh...we've got classes coming up anyway. Take care, Emily. We'll see you later."

 

As she pulled at Mark, hoping he'd understand her purpose here, Gwen scanned the area for a good place to get a little change in wardrobe.

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Marc was torn on whether to leave or not.   He didn't understand the words, but the tone wasn't a positive one.    With Gwen tugging his arm though, and Emily telling them to go, he allowed himself to be pulled away, looking at Emily, who he hoped would call for help if she needed it.

When they were out of earshot he looked to Gwen.  "We're not just gonna let her try to handle those thugs alone are we?"  

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At the Quickie Check...

The buzz and whine of bullets zipping pass her was loud in RJ's ears, and her could here the spattering of brick chips behind her, but she didn't flinch, despite having been shot dead - for a limited time - before. Instead, RJ grinned, excitement rising, even if her heartrate didn't vary from her resting rate of 122 beats per minute.

Four suspects left, three openly armed, RJ considered. Her impromptu partner seemed able to handle herself well, but RJ still couldn't leave her to take the greater danger. While RJ could keep with a car on city streets, the suited woman could fly, giving her the mobility advantage.

Keeping keen ears alert for any approaching sirens - she could hear them from at least several blocks away - RJ took one step, then a second, stride lengthening at she built up speed. Passing by Odette, she murmured, "Make sure Moneybags doesn't get away, I'm going for the gunmen."

Then she darted across the street in a flash of fair skin and black silk. There was such a thing as the 21-foot rule, a guideline for when it gets iffy to shoot someone coming at you with a melee weapon when. In her case, it became more of a 60-foot rule, and these assholes had the misfortune to be within that range, and even without a baton, her hands and feet were more dangerous than any knife.

RJ leapt on top of a car instead of bothering to go around it, then launched her at one of the gunmen, her foot leaving a surprising deep dent in the hood of the Toyota. The woman landed in front of one of the gunmen with an oddly heavy thump. He flinched back from the eerily pretty and too symmetrical woman with uncanny electric blue eyes suddenly in front of his and went to club her with his carbine.

"Wrong place, wrong time, bitch," he growled.

"Funny, I was about to say the same," RJ replied in her cool cop tone and with a smirk as she flowed to the side with a frightening smoothness, then reached out and grabbed his elbow with fingers that felt like steel cables wrapped in velvet. She pivoted and pulled, his arm popping from its socket as she flipped him over her hip as easily as if he'd been a child's stuffed toy.

Though the gunman had at least a half foot on her, and appeared to outweigh her by at least eighty pounds, he sailed through the air with hardly any arc, crashing into a second gunman full on, sending both rolling and tumbling across the asphalt. RJ clapped her hands with self-satisfaction then stalked towards them, maybe with a little more hip action than necessary to make sure they were disarmed. "Now, be good little boys and wait quietly for the men uniforms and cuffs."

 

Spoiler

Clobbering Attack (p.78), make an attack at -2d to use one enemy as a club or projectile against another. 9d - 2d = 7d

Asarasa Request: [7d6] Roll: [6, 4, 3, 3, 2, 2, 1] Result: 5 successes.

 

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  • 4 weeks later...

Something about the way RJ moved screamed 'experience' to Cassandra, a familiarity with violence beyond the airborne dancer's mystically grafted instinct for combat, the ebb and flow of carnage singing in her ears. She gleamed white in a graceful arc towards 'Moneybags', spectral wings framing her shape in contrast to the red lens of her mask.

 

The hapless thug, about 3/4ths of a block away from the scene of the shootout, received the full impact of her superhuman physique slamming into him. He went tumbling. She pulled to a stop with one leg extended, waiting to see if he was getting up again.

 

Spoiler

Going to tackle the Dude.

[7d6] Roll: [6, 5, 5, 3, 3, 2, 1]

Two Successes, me thinks?

 

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RJ glanced up as Odette took down the fleeing thug with the money, she glanced back across the street and saw those gangbangers staggering away holding themselves and each other. They wouldn't get far, she finally heard sirens in the distance closing in. 

 

Then, a noise or flicker of movement caused her to look back just in time to see the gunman with the shotgun roll over and fire... BOOM!

 

Spoiler

RJ needs to dodge or get shot.

 

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On 4/18/2024 at 5:27 PM, Shameless said:

Marc was torn on whether to leave or not.   He didn't understand the words, but the tone wasn't a positive one.    With Gwen tugging his arm though, and Emily telling them to go, he allowed himself to be pulled away, looking at Emily, who he hoped would call for help if she needed it.

When they were out of earshot he looked to Gwen.  "We're not just gonna let her try to handle those thugs alone are we?"  

 

"What are we going to do about it?" Gwen replied softly, urgently. "We should get clear...call the police."

 

"Even if you could fight them, if they figured out who you are..."

 

She shook her head, getting her phone out of her pocket.

 

"You don't have to come with me, but please be safe. Okay?"

 

With that, Gwen edged away from the group and raised her phone to her ear, as if talking to someone. In reality she was looking for a good corner to get around, or something to duck behind, so she could make her change...

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RJ might have been superhumanly tough now, able to resist most small arms fire without a hitch. But this had nothing to do with how tough she was. This was instinct, and her new capabilities hadn't yet developed new instincts in all respects. RJ had been shot before, nearly died, and remembered the pain of it, and the agony of recovery.  Even if she didn't particularly fear being shot, she didn't want to be shot.

Also, even if she could resist bullets, her dress couldn't, and it was tight enough already. She wouldn't relish running through the city to Micheal's place naked or nearly naked.

 

She noticed the shotgun coming up and with inhuman grace and blinding speed, she leapt to the side, the shot going wide. The gunman found blazing, too blue eyes glaring at him with fury, disconcerting in that young, beautiful face. The gunman blinked, then groaned, when he suddenly found her standing above him, a bare foot planted against his sternum when she'd hit him with a thrown gun from one of his comrades.

He struggled, but couldn't get free, and the woman ripped the shotgun from his grasp with ease, another groan as the shoulder strap snapped like a thread. His eyes widened in fear as he watched the stunning woman took the shotgun in both hands, then as her fulsome breasts and the biceps of her toned arms swelled as she flexed and the shotgun bent into a U-shape with the squeal of steel and the pinging of breaking mechanisms.

RJ shuddered as the smell of the man's fear mixed with arousal filled her nose and she had to stop herself from hitting him too hard in the throat with the broken shotgun.

"You should feel lucky, Mr. Shotgun, I'm being nice," RJ growled as the man gagged. RJ stood up and tossed the shotgun aside, her eyes going to the flying dancer and seeing she'd taken down the bagman.

"Time to go, Miss," RJ said. "Police are almost here. They'll round these fuckers up."

 

Spoiler

Dodge: Agility Active Defense - 8d
Asarasa Request: [8d6] Roll: [4, 4, 4, 4, 3, 2, 1, 1] Result: 5 successes

Might roll to disarm/disable Mr. Shotgun -9d
Asarasa Request: [9d6] Roll: [6, 5, 4, 4, 3, 2, 2, 2, 1] Result: 7 successes

 

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Marc nodded, "Ok, I'm gonna go see if I can find some help too, just in Case."   He trusted in Gwen more than many others, but he still hadn't revealed his secret to her.  She was a friend, and he didn't want her put in danger if anyone figured out who he was.   He quietly made his way to one of the better locations he knew, one where very few people ever really came.   The Silver Spider had been spotted before near the campus, so while some pictures might get taken, it wasn't wholly  unheard of that he'd be in the area.  He'd even heard the rumor that some said he was a teacher at the University.

He stilled himself, and spoke the word she'd given him.  "Asimi"

In a moment, the costume of the Silver Spider enveloped him, fitting snuggly against him, he'd yet to actually ask what happened to his clothing when he transformed, but he knew he'd be wearing it when he transformed back, none the worse for wear.   Quickly he scaled the wall and crossed the roof, heading back to the Quad, hopefully he'd arrive in time.

 

Edited by Shameless
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