TheAbsurdist
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"Nah, youse guys ain't gettin' it. I'm gamer'n'game." And his scuffed, bruised, and slightly bloodied face split into a grin. "I ain't a strong swimmer, but I gotta get better. An' like I's says, start with the baby steps or youse are eating sucker punches for breakfact lunch and dinner." That grin still there. "An' later we can do some three card monty for some cash. But I guess we can just go with grapplin', and such... but, yanno what, whatever Aja, or Hero wants." He lifted his arms and draped his forearms across his knees, he tilted her his head as he looked at the rest of them.
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Jumping strike to buy everyone more time. With taunting and such involved, but a stick and run. Power attack Power Attack.: 1d20+15 21
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As usual his classmates found him several hours into these things, and it made him chuckle. "Uh... I think there is breathin' masks stuff." Then he shrugged those expansive shoulders. He didn't seem upset, but there was a response to Aja's words, he lifted a brow, and looked at her. Benny was workman like, there wasn't really a sense of ego, even when he showed up other students with hand to hand stuff. Though, he admitted he didn't know entirely what everyone brought to the table at this school, despite everyone wanting to hand out their powers on their business cards. "If we sparin' we ain't tryin'a beat each other." He said it simply, but he shrugged again, "We can if youse guys want, but I don't think the teaches'd be too happy." He sank down into a crouch, low like a coiled spring, and he pressed his fingers onto the ground.
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Benny was not gonna be able to go toe to toe with the Super Nazi over there. But he wasn't going to stick it out right in front of him. So he just wasn't there when the shockwave ripped through where he had been, managing to flatten against the ground, in a blink before coming back up up and springing toward Ashley and Judy, to assist them in leaving before he got out. He was worried, legitimately, about the others, as he was making sure the rest of the teens, and other people were out of the reach of the blonde Teutonic bad news. "We need to beat feet!" His eyes swept over the rest of them, and only when they were getting out did he, aware that he might have to dart back in to snatch someone up.
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Reflex: 1d20+10 17 Well he has Evasion 2. So going to roll Tou Tou: 1d20+6 10 Reroll Tou: 1d20+6 18 So, ah, Ult Ref. per RL
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(*Editor's note: What, did Benny forget?) Benny blinked. That was today? What day is it... Then came the frown, before he started to remove the letterman's jacket he wore, wearing a white t-shirt under that, the sleeves rolled up in the greaser style, and then he tossed the jacket to the side. Rubbing his hands over his ruddy featured face from his previous exertions, he wondered idly if his classmates had a 'Benny is kinda tired' sense that tripped. "It's a co-ed school, right? Ain't no reason ta say no ta someone." He looked at the rest flatly, resting his hands on his hips, adopting unconsciously a stereotypical pose. "Jus' kinda loss track'a'time, was... learnin' things." He was an eloquent one, and even he winced at that, then just let it lay there, because it wasn't something he was joshin' about. "I mean sure, sure we can do undawata, thas fine, I ain't even really fought in that, so's... yanno."
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Ref: 1d20+10 11 HP to reroll Reflex reroll: 1d20+10 13 but plus ten for it being under 11 on an HP reroll, so 23.
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Benny seemed biologically incapable of overreaction, well barring people not picking up what he was throwing down when it came to boxing, but that was less upset. Probably. He did suppress the urge to bat the can out of the air like it was a contest, because it wasn't, and he hooked his thumbs in the straps of his backpack as he moved out of the way, a frown tugging at his lips. "Uh, waitaminute..." Something seemed off. Why was there a dog? Was this dog here before? Where had be been...? Benny wasn't jaded, but he was a city kid from the bad parts of town. Youse kept yer head down to avoid getting involved in things ya didn't wanna be involved in. The gianormous fluff ball wasn't charming, it was more a big disaster bumbling down a hallway like that boulder in that ruin in that film he saw recently. Felt like somethin' to run from, and to edge away from. Which he did, as he was moving incidentally towards his class, making sure to take his breakfast sandwich out of his pocket, and the tried to eat it quickly enough he wasn't tackled and drooled on by that ball of fur and jowls.
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To say that a certain Mr. Benjamin Franklin D'Amato was an early riser would be an understatement. He slept in today, so he was up at four, did his morning work out showered, and was heading to class at an easy pace. His hair wet from the shower, with his own school hoodie and sweatpants, because he didn't care about his image. In an 80's teen flick he was the stereotype looking kid who'd be the bully. Benny, as he insisted being called was anything but, he was a genial pleasant fellow, who was fairly easy to get along with. Until he got pushed a little big much. Then that Rebound thing kicked in. But today was classes, and he hummed to himself a song that probably sailed over his fellow student's heads, between drinks from his water bottle.
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There was an old adage in fighting, there is nothing as demoralizin' as eating your opponent's best shot, and grinning. And Rebound grinned, as the electricity crackled and flowed over him. "I'd feel bad 'bout this toots, but youse earned every bit of this." Hands gripped the portion of her outfit over her torso, and he pulled her up and he leaped up and into the church, in a big, graceful back flip through one of the broken windows and despite the lack of leverage, he just drove his fist into her face, and pushed away to land in a roll and up onto his feet, and ready himself to deal with the massive Donar.
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The Rooftops of Dubai, sunset. It was still hot, the metal of the scaffolding was warm, the bright orange reflective paint of the unfinished portion of the But what was more worrying was the swarm of Katanarchists. The why of them being here was currently not the thought that Benjamin d'Amato (a.k.a the bouncing pugilist hero Rebound!) was worried about. It was more that they were here and fighting him, that was the pressing concern. And punching, kicking, stabbing, ninja starring (Is that even a word? -ed) were also pretty important. This wasn't what he was used to. A street scuffle, or a place where he could make like a pinball and ping about, but this was limited space with guys and dolls who were a cut above (I see what you did there. -ed) in a precarious position that hemmed him firmly outside of his comfort zone. Heck, this high up and he wasn't sure he couldn't be cleaned up except by paper towels. They were working towards the crane at the top of this thing, and he was trying to stop them. Already worn down from however long this had been going, he worked himself after them. "Don't s'pose youse guys wanna call it quits and just give in?" He ducked his head sharply behind one of the metal poles as a shuriken struck against it, "Okay, okay, good talk. Well whateva youse doin' I gotta stop ya so..." And with that he changed his grip and swung around bringing his feet against a pole, and bracing against it before he leaped up towards the crane, and the Katanarchists. It was in the middle of the trajectory that he noticed one of the Katanarchists as doing something, and at the moment he would have made contact there was violence and brightness, and he found himself sailing backwards, flung by the force. As the world broke apart. Claremont Academy, Combat Simulator Room, February 9th. 1PM, ish. Rebound tried to course correct, his mind already working out the angle of his movement, and he completed the flip as he hit the wall, and grunted with the force of it, but he bounced right off. His control was such that he fell forward, and the twenty feet down from the wall, to land in a smooth crouch. He panted, his uniformed dusted up, his domino mask a little torn, and his lip was busted up. As per usual he was on a multi hour training scenario, though this was him trying to pick up the tactics, the world he was thrust in now. Kids were the same, ish. Maybe. But the combat scenarios had a lot things for him to look into and sort through. His natural instinct was simply to go another time, in a different scenario that the computer was randomly generated..
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Power Attacking with her as she is denied a Dodge bonus to her defense. And a move-by action to get back to the church and that Donar fellow. So leap, mid air strike, and back in to offer an interpose against Donar. Attack: 1d20+10 11 HP for reroll. Attack: 1d20+10 22
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Benny too.
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"I hate Naziiiiiiiiiiiiiiis!" Benny was not a eloquent soul as he sailed into the air, landing on one foot before Madame Blitz, the lady chucking grenades at Judy and Ash, and so she had to be dealt with fast, and in a dead sprint for the few feet between them, as he threw at overhand right, clubbing her right in the face, "An' even if yousa a dame, yer still goin' down!" Benny was well and truly pissed, the he was aware enough to catch Judy's response to what happened. The screams and smoke grew louder and thudded in his ears, or was that the rush of blood there? The first Invasion played in his head. He failed again. He failed. He failed... There was a click as instinct took over, as he shot down, his shoulder dropping right into her gut, as he dipped under her center of gravity, and his arms going around the back of her knees and he took her off her feet, as he leaped up with her, aiming for a wall to fulfill his namesake, and careen towards Pan and his issue.
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Tackle Madam Blitz. Leap to her, Improved Grab on an attack. Attack: 1d20+15 16 HP to reroll HP Attack Reroll: 1d20+15 27
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Bliss was physically incapable of rolling her eyes, her inner eyelids closed for a moment, and her nostril slits closed up for a moment, the rattling click in her throat was a sign of her annoyance. "I faced the Communion with worse odds Praetorian. I am cast out of my people never to return. My allies and friends vanished to the void. All hills looks like a good place for me to mount my monument. Provided that furry one is buried far enough away for his fetid stench from washing over and desecrating my final stand." However once she addressed Traveller, she turned her head towards the Fryxian, there was a moment she was about to say something. The weight of it clear, as the markings on her skin shifted, the sign of her agitation. "Pray to whatever dead gods you have, Fry'xian, just stand in front of me and serve your best purpose. Drawing fire." She then trailed off into rasping clicks.
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"The release I'd demand would be for you to shut your maw," groused Bliss, "Or for you to shear yourself and jump into some methane snowdrifts." The Xuli'pan's nasal slits flared in annoyance, as she made a click in the back of her throat, her lips pulled back to show the beak as her head tilted to the right a bit, a gesture of annoyance from her insular people. She wasn't eating, or drinking. That was hospitality, and this was not a friendly thing. Her eyes shifted to Sitara, "What aren't you telling us? If they are just bandits then I could handily take them out, or more accurately you could have. What variable is there you haven't revealed for your precious sake of drama? They have someone's spawnling? A spawnling sidled up and there is political ramifications? They have some ancient tech? A super weapon?" She didn't like how passive the others were, or just idiotically seeking a fight.
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Bliss hissed and chittered a little as she folded her arms across her chest. A booming idiot, a Praetorian, and some Star Knights walk into a bar. She hadn't intended to be embroiled in such things, but then her intent never seemed to matter. "Praetorian, if it isn't official, then you aren't press ganging me. You know my prices. And conditions. How much latitude are you going to let me have before you get squeamish?" She almost barked at Sitara, though it was more a raspy burr of a voice. Rough. Sharp. Grating. She hadn't answered a call, her luck was like the droppings of a ch't'akta, greasy, messy, and impossible to wash away. Bliss was damn sure not going to be hampered by their idiotic idealism.
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Xuli'pans were not terribly imposing looking, standing in the average height and build. Bliss was a little bigger than most of them, but nothing exceptional. She was, however, an intimidating stone b**** most of the time. So the descriptions by clients and people who put up wanted notices always said she was a far larger. And she always got a seat on a transport, or little shuttles in the cities public transport. She was here, because it was a place to be, no real design, ever since her stint as a gladiator was ruined. So wandering merc who had a small rep was on this backwater, looking for something, what she wasn't sure. A job, and some cash. Bliss wasn't hurting for funds, but she needed more to get some space between her and whatever was out there.
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*looks at Katrina*
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Bliss, but if too full s'cool!
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He's going to hit the two near him, and then move towards Watchdog
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I mean, he's gonna keep punching
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"Noooooooot the point. Jesus wept all yous guys..." He sighed a little bit, frustrated, before he sucked in air through his teeth. "Ya crawl, then walk, then run an' jump guys. I beat someone, then it's entirely because I don't screw up my foundations, not because I am comparin' myself to anyone. An' I said all youse guys can do whatever ya want to try and get me." He moved to stand beside Claude and pressed his thicker arm to his, "I ain't got longer arms'n'youse." Stepping away Benny put his hands on his hips. "It's like learning how ta write an' paint good, ya gotta do it, and do it, and do it. Norm Rockwell wasn't doing his best at the start, ya? Just watch? Okay? All youse guys watch." He threw the two jab and hook combo, "Here is the base. So now what? Now we do like Coltrane, or Mile Davis..." He threw the combo again, but he stepped forward and around his perceived target, the hook dropping to do right at the floating rib area. "Improvise!" The next was a jab, with a fast stance switch that was slicker than butter that led to the new leading hand jabbing, and then throwing a hook with that hand. Lifting his hands he stepped back, "But, ya don't get there until ya don't just know how to throw a punch, ya get there when ya gut guides it. If ya thinkin' it out, it wont end well. So..." He moved back to the corner and leaned against it dramatically, as he looked back to Claude, "If they turtle up, and are in an advantageous position what do ya do Baked Beans?"
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Corinne's bright eyes held a flat expression for a moment, as she side eyed Ashley. "Oh, fuck off. You're as weird as the rest of us. Like, you-" She cut herself off as she looked at the others, "Mid-30s, not paying attention to the music, looking at people, but aren't looking for someone, or something. So not kidnappers, but probably are bodyguards... You guys forget I've been to awards shows in Hollywood, and my father is filthy rich. Well... other people do. You don't." She drank at her water as she glanced about, "But..." Then she pressed her lips tightly, as if she was thinking better of what she was about to say.
