Maz's Sicol Session

<Teller|GM> |||
<Teller|GM> ...
<Teller|GM> She picks up a newspaper from a small store on the corner, browsing it for cape news as she slurps on her soda. A lot of it is buried, relegated towards the back. There's something about the PRT and the Youth Guard, some shit about their Wards...an explosion at Clatsop college - a small note on /her/ and her attack on the ATM...there! An article on the PRT
<Teller|GM> and a skirmish they had last night. It's an opinion piece, thin on facts and heavy on criticism for the PRT and parahumans in the city, but she does glean the name of the cape that has been gathering 'taxes' - The 800. He's with a small group called Think Tank residing in Franklin.
<Teller|GM> "Hayes?" the aging clerk peers over the counter at her and gives her a paternalistic frown. Shit. "I know you paying for those. And shouldn't you be in school?" ||
<-> Mazinja is now known as Maz|Fireback
<Maz|Fireback> ... Gah. Is she that out of it? Of course she entered the first familiar store she ran into, because she's clearly a goddamn master of laying low. Shit.
<Maz|Fireback> The name of the old man doesn't even spring to mind.
<Maz|Fireback> Chris takes a deep breath, even as she approaches the counter. "... Nah." It's not like she has never been suspended before.||
<Teller|GM> The old man shakes his head judgmentally, then sticks out his hand. He seems more concerned with getting paid then whether or not she's playing hooky. ||
<Maz|Fireback> She's not entirely sure whether to be thankful of that or to tell him to go to hell, to be honest. She settles for painfully pulling away a couple of wrinkled bills and putting them on his hand, not meeting his eyes.
<Maz|Fireback> Fucking hell she's getting angry again.
<Maz|Fireback> ||
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<Teller|GM> The old man takes the money, then gives her a few cents worth of change. "Education's important, Hayes."
<Teller|GM> He then adds, "And school or no school, you ain't loitering in here. Get." ||
<Maz|Fireback> Chris rolls her eyes, and turns to get, when... a curious thought strikes her.
<Maz|Fireback> She only took a glance at the newspaper in he rhands, but she already has a place to look for, which is a gazillion times better than before. What about more info tho? ... Internet maybe?
<Maz|Fireback> Fuck, she can't believe she's about to ask this. "... um..." She turns to the old man again. "... 's there a... library nearby?"||
<Teller|GM> "I'm sure there's a library at your school," the old man says pointedly. ||
<Maz|Fireback> "A -different- library." Chris deadpans.||
<Teller|GM> ((Social roll, please.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 1d6-1 Social
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Social" [6] -1 = 5
<Teller|GM> ((What sort of info will Chris be looking for in the library?))
<Maz|Fireback> ((info about the Think Tank and The 800. She knows where they are, more or less, but little else. Mostly expecting online rumors.))
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<Teller|GM> The old man finishes stocking the money in the cash register before he responds. "16th and Jerome."
<Teller|GM> ...
<Teller|GM> She's never been inside of the Sicol library before. It's nice looking, but not as quiet as she expected thanks to some sort of read-aloud session going on for toddlers. The librarian is making monster noises, which leads to laughter and screams from the children.
<Teller|GM> She finds the computer, and spends a few frustrating minutes trying to use it before the person across from her tells her she has to sign up for a time slot at the main desk. It seems dumb, because there's hardly anyone using the computers at the moment...but she's eventually signed on and browsing the internet for information on Think Tank.
<Teller|GM> ((Knowledge roll please, Maz|Fireback.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 1d6-1 Know
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Know" [2] -1 = 1
<-> Antioch is now known as Antioch|GM
<-> You are now known as Nick|Joyeuse
<Teller|GM> It's an annoyingly common phrase to search for. 'Think Tank Sicol' just gives her an article on Mayor Peterson denouncing The 800's 'taxes' and the PRT fight. 'The 800' is similarly common.
<Teller|GM> 'Think tank capes parahumans the 800'...better. There are a lot of results on Thinkers and Watch Dog, but she can filter through them and get to the information she's actually looking for. CapeDB.net informs her that the group is composed of Snowdrop, The 800, and DeWitt.
<Teller|GM> The 800 is described as growing to massive sizes. DeWitt is described as 'a girl from an alternate dimension'. Snowdrop is 'a woman who is always calm and has a calming aura, and had an archnemesis named Torrent in New York'. It lists them all as still active in Des Moines, so it's probably a little out of date. ||
<Maz|Fireback> Names. possible names, powers... that's a good start. Hopefully it will all be relevant...
<Maz|Fireback> Although with teh way looking through things on the internet goes (and because she has some time left), she tries to find some info on them and what they were doing in Des Moines. Wa sit the same thing...? Why did they move anyway?||
<Teller|GM> As far as she can tell, the group (Snowdrop and Think Tank at the time) left New York and passed through several cities before coming to Sicol Bend. Their longest stay was a few months in Des Moines, and that's also when the articles start mentioning DeWitt.
<Teller|GM> Their crimes aren't all that impressive...obstruction of justice, fights with the Protectorate and other groups in the city, and accusations of extortion. There's little indication of why they left any of their previous cities. ||
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<Maz|Fireback> extorsion... that's the same they are doing here, isn't it? She looks up news about them in Franklin, Sicol Bend-- she's probably not gonna run into anything new, really, but she might as well confirm this is the place.
<Maz|Fireback> If they are, it means they are claiming it as territory. A place they own. A place they have to -protect- even as they bleed the people inside dry...
<Maz|Fireback> ... Not too different from being the top dog at school, really.||
<Teller|GM> The reports for Marimer are unsubstantiated but numerous, while the mayor himself has commented on the extortion in Franklin. It seems like those are the two areas of the city that they've claimed for themselves. ||
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<Maz|Fireback> .. well, she has locations, she has names, and she has... an idea of what their powers are.
<Maz|Fireback> In a way, she's surprised she got THIS much, research has never... been one of her stronger suits.
<Maz|Fireback> ... mmm. Well, learning by doing... she guesses that's what she's best at.
<Maz|Fireback> Chris closes everything down, and stands up, picking her things up. Frankling soudns the most promising, with the most news about it... and hell, Marimer is right next door. Time for another trip.||
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<Teller|GM> ((Where in Franklin and/or Marimer is she headed?))
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<Maz|Fireback> ((The extorsion probably took place in the commercial districts of those neighborhood, right?))
<Teller|GM> ((Yes. What will she be doing when she gets there? Remember, a girl with a duffel bag and a bad attitude isn't necessarily going to find or attract the attention of parahumans.))
<Maz|Fireback> ((getting a fee for the place to start with, wait for nightfall to raise some hell))
<Teller|GM> |||
<Teller|GM> ...
<-> tubes is now known as tubes|GM
<-> Turncoat is now known as Turn|Heartless
<Teller|GM> Chris had felt out of place when she'd traveled to the west side of the city, a girl in baggy pants and a hoodie where t-shirts, shorts, and sandals were more common.
<Teller|GM> Franklin is even worse. The buildings are too upscale. The cars are too fancy. She feels like she doesn't belong, and all the nicely dressed people are giving her looks that indicate their agreement. ||
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<Maz|Fireback> Chris ALSO has a long time either ignoring rich snobs or sneering at them... but desipte her growing annoyance, that's not what she's here to do!
<Maz|Fireback> Chris settles for mostly ignoring them as she walks down the streets, looking to the stores as she walks past them. She does catch her reflection on the windows, however... freaking hell she still needs a bath.
<Maz|Fireback> Still, fuck those people. Besides, window-shopping isn't a freaking crime.
<Maz|Fireback> ...
<Maz|Fireback> Ugh, what time is it anyway...||
<Teller|GM> Judging from the sun, it's still early afternoon. At least nobody is pestering her about school - she's free to roam around all she wants, or find a place to wait for nightfall... ||
<Maz|Fireback> Patience is her worst enemy.
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<-> soulpelt|sleep is now known as soulpelt|
<Maz|Fireback> She walking at a clipped pace, trying to keep distracted, trying to ignore the looks the people are giving her, trying to ignore the sun above her. Heat isn't really a thing for her anymore, is it? Then why does she feel SO FUCKING MUGGY in this fucking hoodie?
<Maz|Fireback> She only has to wait, doesn't she? She only has to ignore the FUCKING looks from these FUCKING assholes all around her, all of them staring, all of them JUDGING as if they knew a single damn thing about her!
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<Maz|Fireback> Why is she SO FUCKING HOT?!
<Maz|Fireback> Chris feels as if she's out of breath and she just... stumbles aside, ducking into an alleyway, to trhow what she's carrying to the floor, to get -away- from people, to pull the stupid hoodie off her...||
<Teller|GM> She barely reaches the alleyway before she drops her bag and yanks her hoodie over her head. She has to give several tugs to get it over her head and free her arms from the sleeves...she feels like she's swimming in the thing. ||
<Maz|Fireback> It doesn't feel as good as it should have. She coughs, and lets herself rest against a dumpster, sliding to the floor...
<Maz|Fireback> ...
<Maz|Fireback> why?
<Maz|Fireback> Why is she doing this?
<Maz|Fireback> Of course it's not the weather beating her down. She's doing it to herself.
<Maz|Fireback> Chris idly kicks her shoes off.
<Maz|Fireback> Why the fuck is she holding back... for THEIR benefit?
<Maz|Fireback> She didn't come her to skulk around, and be a sneaky little git, did she?
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<Maz|Fireback> The heat is still swelling up inside her... and she lets it pour. Why does she care about what she's wearing in the first place? She came here to RAISE HELL.
<Maz|Fireback> She lets the change come through, exhulting in how FREE it makes her feel... and turns her angry gaze to the street she just came in from.
<Maz|Fireback> Let's raise some FUCKING HELL then.||
<-> FossilLord is now known as FL|GM
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<Teller|GM> As her gorilla form bursts into glorious existence, heat and steam pouring off of her to fill the small alley...hell feels like a pretty fantastic word to describe it. What do these fucking rich assholes know about hell?
<Teller|GM> Nothing, that's what, but they're sure about to fucking learn.
<Teller|GM> She's obscured by the cloud of steam, but she knows that even more people will be looking her way now. Except now, she can /really/ give them something to stare at. ||
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<-> Faustus is now known as Feastus
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<Maz|Fireback> And stare they can, because Fireback emerges from the alley, takes a single look around... and roars, to let EVERYBODY AROUND know that they are there, before turning to the closest person, fire in their eyes...
<Maz|Fireback> ||
<Teller|GM> The screams hit her ears, and the street comes alive. People headed from buildings, to buildings, to cars...everyone's running.
<Teller|GM> The nearest person to her is a 30-something guy with long blond hair and an oversized backpack. He screams and trips over his own feet in his haste to run away, and there's a dark spot spreading over the front of his khakis. ||
<Maz|Fireback> Oh no! Didn't they want to FUCKING STARE? NOW THEY FUCKING CAN!
<Maz|Fireback> Fireback leaps onto the map, arm swinging back and coming down with a powerful haymaker!||
<Teller|GM> ((Attack roll, please. +2))
<Teller|GM> ((Brawl applies.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 2h6+2 Brawl - Fireback SMASH
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Brawl - Fireback SMASH" (4) [6] +2 = 8
<Teller|GM> $roll 1d6-1 VW
<[ATM]> Teller|GM "VW" [3] -1 = 2
<Teller|GM> She pummels the man, feels bone give and then break underneath her giant fist. He's lying awkwardly on top of his backpack, holding his arm and screaming for her to stop. He scoots backwards across the sidewalk, much too slowly to get away from her. ||
<Maz|Fireback> WIMP! Who the hell cares about wimps! Fireback snarls at him to let him know their displeasure, and then bounds forward, to GRAB a second person.||
<Teller|GM> ((Athletics, please.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 1d6+1 Ath
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Ath" [6] +1 = 7
<Teller|GM> ((Brawn roll, please.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 1d6+2 Brawn
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Brawn" [5] +2 = 7
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<Teller|GM> $roll 1d6-1 QB
<[ATM]> Teller|GM "QB" [3] -1 = 2
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<Teller|GM> Fireback charges at the hapless woman, knocking her over and grabbing her arm. She screams in pain and fear, twisting uselessly in her grasp. It's almost fascinating to see that she can pin the woman's arm against her side with one hand, her massive gray fingers encircling half of her waist.
<Teller|GM> "No! Please," the woman cries. "I'm /sorry/!"
<Teller|GM> Sorry for what? The leash she was holding drops from her hand. The small dog, instead of running, hops backwards animatedly and barks loudly at her. ||
<Maz|Fireback> Sorry... Sorry! Hey, did her mom say that before she broke her? Wish she could remember
<Maz|Fireback> Another waste of time, isn't it? ISN'T IT? She roars at the womans face and tosses her towards one of the storefronts. Hey maybe she'll be GOOD FOR SOMETHING THEN!||
<Teller|GM> ((Withstand roll, please.))
<Teller|GM> $roll 1d6-1 DA
<[ATM]> Teller|GM "DA" [4] -1 = 3
<-> Feastus is now known as Faustus
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 2h6+1 WIthstand
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "WIthstand" [5] (1) +1 = 6
<Teller|GM> The woman crashes into the glass of the window, cracking but not shattering it, then collapses to the sidewalk in front of it. The small dog darts forward and snaps at her ankle, snarling angrily. She can feel the teeth, but only just - the dog probably hurt itself more than it hurt her. ||
<Maz|Fireback> Hey look! The TINY DOG has more courage than the big people! It'd be almost cute if it wasn't trying to fucking BITE HER! She swimpes at the dog with a massive hand, almost dismisively.||
<Teller|GM> She swats the dog away effortlessly, then returns to her rampage. It's easy, wild, freeing. These people are like ragdolls, toys that she's breaking and discarding on the street around her. She hurls one man, pummels the next into the ground, throws a woman into the air and watches her crash down onto the street...
<Teller|GM> "HEY!"
<Teller|GM> And just like that, playtime's over. The 800 is walking quickly up the block towards her.
<Teller|GM> He looks just like his pictures - large, dangerous looking. He wears a black t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and a pair of blue basketball shorts, showing off his muscular arms and legs. Over his face he wears a black, old-fashioned goalie's mask. ||
<Maz|Fireback> Hah. Hahaha. yes. Yesyesyes. FUCK yes. Finally!
<Maz|Fireback> She's grinning, although her face might not be able to display it properly, nor would it be visible behind the smoke! It doesn't matter anyway!
<Maz|Fireback> Fireback turns to The 800, and ROARS a challenge!||
<Teller|GM> "Oh, you want to fucking go?" the man yells back. He storms towards her, the anger evident in his voice. "Come on, then, let's go!" ||
<-> Faustus is now known as Faustus|Rip
<-> ColdGold is now known as ColdGold|GM
<Maz|Fireback> There's nothing else that really needs to be said.
<Maz|Fireback> Fireback bounds towards the 800, just as he moves towards her. She leaps as she nears, bringing her arm down in a massive swing...||
<Teller|GM> ((Brawl roll, please. +2))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 2h6+2 Brawl
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Brawl" (1) [4] +2 = 6
<Teller|GM> $roll 2h6+1 T8W
<[ATM]> Teller|GM "T8W" [4] (3) +1 = 5
<Teller|GM> $roll 1d6+1 T8G
<[ATM]> Teller|GM "T8G" [1] +1 = 2
<Teller|GM> ((Brawn roll, please.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 1d6+2
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback [6] +2 = 8
<Teller|GM> The blow catches him on the top of his shoulder. He gives a small grunt and stumbles, before trying to wrap his arms around her waist. They don't even fit - yet. She can see that he's already larger than he was a second ago, muscles stretching his t-shirt to its limit. ||
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<Maz|Fireback> As he's trying to grab her, she sees no real point in dissauding him form it... that's pretty much RIGHT where she wants him too! She responds to his grab by trying to smash his head between her two large hands!||
<Teller|GM> ((Brawn and Wits roll, please.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 1d6+2 Brawn
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Brawn" [6] +2 = 8
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 1d6-1 Wits
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Wits" [4] -1 = 3
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<Teller|GM> $roll 2h6+3 T8B
<[ATM]> Teller|GM "T8B" [6] (1) +3 = 9
<Teller|GM> ((Withstand, please.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 2d6+1
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback [1] [2] +1 = 4
<Maz|Fireback> [... h6, so that's a 3]
<Teller|GM> She slams her hands onto the sides of his head, which is nearly level with her own now. He coughs loudly, and then finally goes on the offensive - one arm still wrapped around her, he swings a fist wildly upwards with a yell. It catches her on her chin, snapping her head backwards. It's only due to the fact that he's holding her that she doesn't fall over.
<Teller|GM> ||
<Maz|Fireback> For a moment, Fireback sees stars, and her mind drifts back to when she was knocked out by that one kid. The event that set this all off...
<Maz|Fireback> ... And it's that memory that makes her snap back, her teeth gritting, fires blazing. Steam hisses angrily from her body as she rears back from the blow, and she snaps back with a headbutt. ((Using two ticks for special attack))||
<Teller|GM> ((Brawl roll, please.))
<-> soulpelt| is now known as soulpelt|sleep
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 2h6+2 Brawl - Headbutt!
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Brawl - Headbutt!" (4) [6] +2 = 8
<Teller|GM> $roll 2h6+1 T8W
<[ATM]> Teller|GM "T8W" [6] (3) +1 = 7
<-> You are now known as Nick
<Teller|GM> Steam shoots off of her body, obscuring the area around them. The world is only the gray cloud, a featureless backdrop for their contest. He's her equal in size, now, and his clothes are long gone to tatters - a twisted flesh gorilla to mirror Fireback's gray.
<Teller|GM> She slams her head forward, below his guard and into his chest. The force of the hit sends him flying backwards, rolling onto his back. She's sure she felt something break - so he /can/ be hurt.
<Teller|GM> He's back on his feet in a split second, bouncing, fists raised. His muscles seem to swell as he breathes, in and out, waiting for her to advance. ||
<Maz|Fireback> and advance she does! Does she have an advantage? Did she hurt him? Does it MATTER? This is... this is FUN, in a way she really cannot explain.
<Maz|Fireback> And he's strong! So very strong! And getting much larger than her at every moment! And yet... and yet seeing him with his guard up brings back memories of fights, fights between kids, some of them which knew when to step back to get the advantage... is he one of those? She... she has rarely been.
<Maz|Fireback> So she advances, and he's huge, and she's been fighting like a beast... but she's not one, much like he is right now. She tenses, as if to pounce again... and instead springs forward, down low, swinging at his legs with her massive arms. ((Wild Swing))||
<Teller|GM> ((Attack roll, please. +3))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 2h6+3 Brawl - Wild Swing
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Brawl - Wild Swing" [5] (3) +3 = 8
<Teller|GM> $roll 2h6+4 T8W
<[ATM]> Teller|GM "T8W" [3] (1) +4 = 7
<Teller|GM> ((Dodge or Withstand, please.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 2h6+1 Withstand
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Withstand" (1) [5] +1 = 6
<Teller|GM> $roll 2h6+3 T8B
<[ATM]> Teller|GM "T8B" [4] (3) +3 = 7
<Teller|GM> ((*Ed note: -1 from stagger, +2))
<Teller|GM> ((Guts roll, please.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 1d6+1
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback [1] +1 = 2
<Teller|GM> ((Once more, please.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 1d6+1
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback [2] +1 = 3
<-> Antioch|GM is now known as Antioch
<Teller|GM> He braces himself, but he was expecting another attack from at his upper body. Caught by surprise, he staggers, nearly falls.
<Teller|GM> And still, he grows larger.
<Teller|GM> He roars and swings a fist down at her. He's offbalance, but it still catches her on the side of her head. Her vision goes red and dark around the edges, mingling with the cloud of steam to ensure she can't see more than a few inches beyond her. All she can focus on is staying on her feet - that, and how much that hit fucking hurt. ||
<Maz|Fireback> Once upon a time, a girl got knocked right the fuck out.
<Maz|Fireback> She ALMOST wishes it was like that again, jesus fucking christ.
<-> Turn|Heartless is now known as Turncoat
<-> FL|GM is now known as FossilLord
<-> tubes|GM is now known as tubes
<Maz|Fireback> Right... right, where the fuck is he? You'd think finding a man with legs the size of a tree would be easier. It would help if the world... stopped... spinning.||
<Teller|GM> ((Wits, please.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 1d6-1
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback [3] -1 = 2
<Teller|GM> ((You can still attack if you want. Just nothing super fancy.))
<Maz|Fireback> -- Oh! There they are!
<Maz|Fireback> She shakes her head and hisses/growls in pain as the cobwebs dissapear... but her footing still feels off. She nontheless tries to step forward and... well, drive her massive, steaming hands into his goddamn FOOT.||
<Teller|GM> ((Brawl roll, please.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 2h6+1 Brawl, -1 due Stagger
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Brawl, -1 due Stagger" [4] (2) +1 = 5
<Teller|GM> $roll 2h6+5 T8W
<[ATM]> Teller|GM "T8W" [3] (3) +5 = 8
<Teller|GM> ((Withstand roll, please.))
<Maz|Fireback> $roll 2h6+1 Withstand
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Withstand" [6] (6) +1 = 7
<Teller|GM> $roll 2h6+5 T8B
<[ATM]> Teller|GM "T8B" (1) [6] +5 = 11
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<Teller|GM> The now massive beast ignores her attack, and then almost lazily backhands her hard enough to send her flying and crashing into a car. The metal dents underneath her, leaving an Fireback-shaped impression in the vehicle.
<Teller|GM> He's moving towards her with terrifying, long strides. For some reason the situation calls to mind the dog that nipped at her earlier. ||
<Maz|Fireback> K-Karma's... a bitch, isn't it? Ugh...
<Maz|Fireback> She staggers to her feet, slowly, stumbling, head swimming.
<Maz|Fireback> Fireback plants shorter legs on the ground, and raises her fists up in a guard, looking... way up at 800.
<Maz|Fireback> Right.
<Maz|Fireback> She stumbles again. Right.
<Maz|Fireback> Where the fuck...
<Maz|Fireback> ... where thefuck do you punch a giant.||
<Teller|GM> ((Dodge or grapple, please. He's grabbing you.))
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<Maz|Fireback> $roll 1d6+2 Grapple, Pride is a horrible thing
<[ATM]> Maz|Fireback "Grapple, Pride is a horrible thing" [6] +2 = 8
<Teller|GM> $roll 1d6+6 T8G
<[ATM]> Teller|GM "T8G" [5] +6 = 11
<Teller|GM> Two enormous hands reach for her. She grabs the index finger of one hand as it closes in, manages to grab the thumb of the other and /push/, doing her best to keep them apart...but they close around her, encircling her entire torso and barely leaving her head sticking out.
<Teller|GM> Her feet leave the ground as she's raised to The 800's eye level. His face is grotesque, his smile forcing other muscles in his face into tight lumps on either side of his mouth. Smiles should not be lumpy.
<Teller|GM> "You lose," he says. His voice is loud and throaty, like he gargled the words and spat them out. ||
<Maz|Fireback> ...
<Maz|Fireback> ...
<Maz|Fireback> ...
<Maz|Fireback> It's weird, but the solid form he's holding more or less crumples in his hand, dissipating as if it was smoke. Hot smoke, but he's probably beynod caring about that. She wouldn't know!
<Maz|Fireback> All that she knows is that she has to look at him with her real face, right now.
<Maz|Fireback> Because she cannot fucking speak otherwise.
<Maz|Fireback> So very soon, 800 is holding a much slimmer (in comparison), mostly naked, steaming, coughing teenager.
<Maz|Fireback> "I..." *cough*
<Maz|Fireback> Fuck, her head hurts. "Ssstill..."
- {Day changed to Tuesday, May 23, 2017}
<Maz|Fireback> She looks up at him, drawing a ragged breath. She looks scared, and angry, and it's hard to tell if her mouth is set in a grimace or a crazed grin. "... hhurt you..."||
<Teller|GM> He nearly drops her as she shrinks, but quickly brings his hands together to form a shallow bowl for her to sit in. He stares down at her, grins a little wider. "I still beat you."
<Teller|GM> Her world suddenly moves, the hands shifting beneath her and wind whipping past as the giant holding her turns and begins lumbering up the street. He shifts to holding her aloft with one hand in order to use the other for locomotion. ||
<Maz|Fireback> Yeah she has no reply to that.
<Maz|Fireback> ... and frankly the movement isn't doing a damn thing for her splitting headache,||
<Teller|GM> She's carried off deeper into Franklin by The 800. It's like some really weird reimagining of a King Kong movie, where she's got the part of Ann and a giant ape both.
<Teller|GM> Trouble is, she nobody gave her a script. She doesn't know her lines, and she's not sure how it all ends. ||
<Teller|GM> ||||
<-> Maz|Fireback is now known as Mazinja
<-> Teller|GM is now known as Teller
<Teller> ((*nobody gave her a script.))