To Kill a God, Chapter 1: Chimera Tower (IC)

[Isle of Lithonia]

Shrapnel from the crate shot over Krouse. Most pinged off of his clothes harmlessly, but one left a long gouge down his left bicep. Well, fistfights were never really in the cards to begin with. I can make do. He sprinted for the nearest cover in his line of sight, a pile of rubble a good 15 yards north where he slid to the ground, winded from being blown up. Picking out splinters, he cradled the gun with one hand, muttering to himself. "Well, fuck you too. Guess that's what I get for thinking that the would be a team-building exercise." He panned the gun around at the East side. Nah. The crate didn't explode from my side, it exploded from the opposite side. We know this because it exploded instead of me. Shooter must be West...but what if it's a trick to make me stop looking East? Or is it a double bluff and they know I know they know that
"Francis! Get a hold of yourself!
"Right."
"Keep to solid cover, don't make your position known anymore, and keep an eye out for the remaining instructors."
Krouse sighed deeply, taking yet another moment to evaluate and regret his path in life. You know who's not getting blown up right now? Your college roommate. Sure, he smokes a lot of weed, but somehow his life decisions have brought him to a better place than yours. Fuck it, might as well get one target out of the way before they stop playing around and blow us all to pieces. Krouse looked out over the cover through the scope of his rifle at the forklift he had spied earlier, waiting for whoever's muzzle flash he had seen during the first volley. An assault rifle wasn't much against whatever they probably had back there, but it was something. Krouse wasn't reacting any more. He was acting. And maybe the element of surprise would be enough for one clean takedown before he slipped up against their absurd odds. Or they could just pull out a rocket launcher or something and turn him into a fine paste. Better to think on the plucky underdog angle than the statistically likely death angle.

But nothing poked its head out. Rather, a giggle sounded from behind the kids, and then a boy's playful voice rang out. "Dana? Nolan's come to take you with him!"

A young girl spoke up. "But Nolan, Karlson said that you could only play with her if you beat up the other kiddies first."

Nolan laughed. "Ok, Lily. Let's hurry."

His .50 cal. pistols flashed into life as he began blasting away at the recruits. Several bullets were sent flying at Jack, Laura, Clarence, and Krouse.

Test for JLCK:
SPD of 2 required to dodge all bullets. SPD of 1 results in minor wound to 1 limb. SPD of 0, and you've become shit.

[Nature-Spirits]

Dana ran to cover as soon as the exercise began. So far, no one was shooting at her, and she was out of range of the explosions, but she nevertheless did not want to move. It seemed that no one had spotted her yet, and it would be best to keep it that way. (However, she had passed all of the relevant INT tests [she has INT 5], so she knew where most of the instructors were and recognised that the hacksaw was a recording.)

Yalla, Dana! Bader barked at her mentally. Come on! Fii Suuryaa this is normal! Let's go! If you can't even do this, you'll never be able to defeat any angels, and certainly not Yahovim. Then the world will be destroyed, Dana, because you couldn't get it up enough to even try. Because you were too afraid. There will be no. More. Knowledge.

Dana blinked, surprised at this uncharacteristic outburst. After a moment, she replied meekly, Okay. And with that, she rose from her cover and began running to hide behind a crate -- the nearest large object.

Then: "Dana? Nolan's come to take you with him!"

The girl went weak in the knees, her heart rate increasing and her pupils dilating. She lost awareness of anything but Nolan's voice, and wanted to go to him, to play with him.

Then she felt a sharp pain in her left leg, and she was snapped back into awareness. Looking down, she noticed that her right forearm, which had dropped its gun and was resting on her right leg, had transformed into a metal blade and was poking into her left thigh, drawing blood. She made a small cry. What the fuck?!

That was me, Bader informed her coldly. Dana, you lost control. I had to do something, so I took the reins for a couple of seconds. Now get back on task.

(10 m ahead and 5 m to the right of the door.)

---

Sander ran to take cover to the left of the door when the exercise began, and slowly began darting forward, managing to remain out of the higher-ups' focus. He crouched behind a pile of smaller crates, loading his pistol and peeking out of his cover for just an instant. (He knows where most of the instructors are due to having INT 4).

I don't like this sort of thing, complained Stephanie in his head. It's not as fun as, say, seducing a British officer to sneak into his office and steal important documents.

Oh, shut up, would you? he snapped. This situation was stressful, no doubt, and he needed all of his attention on the task at hand.

Stephanie grumbled internally.

(8 m ahead and 14 m to the left of the door.)

[Hetland 2]

Dana ran to cover as soon as the exercise began. So far, no one was shooting at her, and she was out of range of the explosions, but she nevertheless did not want to move. It seemed that no one had spotted her yet, and it would be best to keep it that way. (However, she had passed all of the relevant INT tests [she has INT 5], so she knew where most of the instructors were and recognised that the hacksaw was a recording.)

Yalla, Dana! Bader barked at her mentally. Come on! Fii Suuryaa this is normal! Let's go! If you can't even do this, you'll never be able to defeat any angels, and certainly not Yahovim. Then the world will be destroyed, Dana, because you couldn't get it up enough to even try. Because you were too afraid. There will be no. More. Knowledge.

Dana blinked, surprised at this uncharacteristic outburst. After a moment, she replied meekly, Okay. And with that, she rose from her cover and began running to hide behind a crate -- the nearest large object.

Then: "Dana? Nolan's come to take you with him!"

The girl went weak in the knees, her heart rate increasing and her pupils dilating. She lost awareness of anything but Nolan's voice, and wanted to go to him, to play with him.

Then she felt a sharp pain in her left leg, and she was snapped back into awareness. Looking down, she noticed that her right forearm, which had dropped its gun and was resting on her right leg, had transformed into a metal blade and was poking into her left thigh, drawing blood. She made a small cry. What the fuck?!

That was me, Bader informed her coldly. Dana, you lost control. I had to do something, so I took the reins for a couple of seconds. Now get back on task.

(10 m ahead and 5 m to the right of the door.)

Dana: Sorry about the insta-kill but you'd have needed a speed of over 10 to dodge or a dur of at least 10 to soak.
Dana didn't have time to react to the sound of a bullet shattering the cover she was behind or blasting a hole through her chest, leaving a large cavity where most of her internal organs once were. Dana was dying. Probably the most inglorious way possible. Hiding behind cover, and bleeding out and Bader was completely helpless to deal with the wound.
Conrad's voice echoed from the loudspeakers. "Dana Totolou. Grade F. Punishment, death. Now, if you other kids should start moving, because I'm about to start shooting for real. If I catch any of you in my sights... Heh... You can guess what happens after that." The sound of a clip being loaded into a gun echoed throughout the warehouse as the audio faded.
Conrad smirked. "Its killing time."

---

Anuragini scrambled up, picking up her pistol and leveling it at Memoir, and opening fire emptying the entire clip into him, the result was pretty poor, while she'd hit him with every bullet, his insane grin just widened, and widened. Memoir pulled out a large pistol, something along the lines of a double barreled sawn off shotgun.
Anuragini grabbed Thomas's hand and started running, "We gotta get away from him!"

[Imperial--japan]

Lavi breathed in and out, as her deteriorating state of mind made it harder and harder to concentrate on the exciting situation in the warehouse. Bullets flying, explosions rising, and a bunch of untrained recruits fighting for their lives against a vastly superior force. The way that this session was going to end was clear, and a majority would be dead by the end of the night. The only plausible idea for survival would be to use her powers to track the bullets as they came towards her, and then evade. The ability to judge the trajectory, and location of where the bullets would fly by would be an insurmountable help.

"This is probably going to get me killed, but when I revert to being the idiot I was...I wont stand much of a chance anyways," Lavi said to William.

"I agree. If you die, you'll merely be resurrection later on. I wont be able to do much pretty soon," William said sagely. With a final cracking of her fingers, Lavi exited cover and with two glowing red eyes, she began to dart down the middle.

[Mnar Secundus]

His .50 cal. pistols flashed into life as he began blasting away at the recruits. Several bullets were sent flying at Jack, Laura, Clarence, and Krouse.

Test for JLCK:
SPD of 2 required to dodge all bullets. SPD of 1 results in minor wound to 1 limb. SPD of 0, and you've become shit.

Clarence threw himself out of the way, pushing Jack to the ground and firing back towards Nolan's approximate position with his AK-47; he trusted Laura to be able to handle this attack, but didn't know anything about Jack's capabilities, and the illusionist was probably the most imporant person here from a tactical viewpoint. [Clarence has a SPD of 3; yes, I know Jack could have dealt with it himself, but Clarence doesn't have the powergrids available, so ... is this fine with you, Charm?] The jerks of the assault rifle in his hands were almost too much: he physically felt his mind going very cold, and his muscles tense up on their own, ready to hurl him towards the attacker - which would be suicide here.
"Upping the dose!", thought Boali hurriedly, panicked. "Sorry, Clarence, this will probably hurt, but bear with it ... and you'll have less than half an hour left." A tremendous feeling of peace washed over him, pushing the madness away; however, it was paradoxally accompanied by a blinding headache, which Clarence shrugged off. Feeling something trickle down his lips, he reached for his face and brought back reddened fingers: he was bleeding from the nose. Not important.

He shaked his head vigorously, focusing on what the people around him were saying. Jackie, who seemed to be made of smoke, had actually had a good idea ... "Jack," Clarence said, his voice weary from the effort of thinking through the tranquilizers, "transmit this to the others: they have to get camouflage. Tell them to change their clothes into something covering them entirely, with random patterns of different shades of gray. It won't help against the snipers, they probably have thermal vision equipment, but the others might be put off."

He turned towards Jackie. "Can you help us too? I'm sure it would get you a better grade. I want you to disperse yourself in this smoky form as widely as possible, especially covering each one of us trainees in a randomly shifting layer of smoke. That will mess with their thermal sights: they will still see us, but they might not be able to aim for precise spots of our bodies. Jack, also transmit this."

Then he answered to Laura. "Wait a moment. We must coordinate with the other groups. When one of us goes, the others cover him by firing at wherever they think an instructor is. I'll stick to Jack to serve as a meat shield at need. Even when they are behind a cover, they have to keep moving on the spot, to make themselves harder to snipe. Jack, can you organize this for us, please?" Then he heard Stern's little speech, saw Lavi darting from her cover and added, "Quickly, if possible."

[Charmera]

Dana ran to cover as soon as the exercise began. So far, no one was shooting at her, and she was out of range of the explosions, but she nevertheless did not want to move. It seemed that no one had spotted her yet, and it would be best to keep it that way. (However, she had passed all of the relevant INT tests [she has INT 5], so she knew where most of the instructors were and recognised that the hacksaw was a recording.)

Yalla, Dana! Bader barked at her mentally. Come on! Fii Suuryaa this is normal! Let's go! If you can't even do this, you'll never be able to defeat any angels, and certainly not Yahovim. Then the world will be destroyed, Dana, because you couldn't get it up enough to even try. Because you were too afraid. There will be no. More. Knowledge.

Dana blinked, surprised at this uncharacteristic outburst. After a moment, she replied meekly, Okay. And with that, she rose from her cover and began running to hide behind a crate -- the nearest large object.

Then: "Dana? Nolan's come to take you with him!"

The girl went weak in the knees, her heart rate increasing and her pupils dilating. She lost awareness of anything but Nolan's voice, and wanted to go to him, to play with him.

Then she felt a sharp pain in her left leg, and she was snapped back into awareness. Looking down, she noticed that her right forearm, which had dropped its gun and was resting on her right leg, had transformed into a metal blade and was poking into her left thigh, drawing blood. She made a small cry. What the fuck?!

That was me, Bader informed her coldly. Dana, you lost control. I had to do something, so I took the reins for a couple of seconds. Now get back on task.

(10 m ahead and 5 m to the right of the door.)

Dana: Sorry about the insta-kill but you'd have needed a speed of over 10 to dodge or a dur of at least 10 to soak.
Dana didn't have time to react to the sound of a bullet shattering the cover she was behind or blasting a hole through her chest, leaving a large cavity where most of her internal organs once were. Dana was dying. Probably the most inglorious way possible. Hiding behind cover, and bleeding out and Bader was completely helpless to deal with the wound.
Conrad's voice echoed from the loudspeakers. "Dana Totolou. Grade F. Punishment, death. Now, if you other kids should start moving, because I'm about to start shooting for real. If I catch any of you in my sights... Heh... You can guess what happens after that." The sound of a clip being loaded into a gun echoed throughout the warehouse as the audio faded.
Conrad smirked. "Its killing time."

---

Anuragini scrambled up, picking up her pistol and leveling it at Memoir, and opening fire emptying the entire clip into him, the result was pretty poor, while she'd hit him with every bullet, his insane grin just widened, and widened. Memoir pulled out a large pistol, something along the lines of a double barreled sawn off shotgun.
Anuragini grabbed Thomas's hand and started running, "We gotta get away from him!"

Thomas' fear nearly turned to panic with the full reveal of Memoir. He took those bullets like they were...nothing. He's...not real. This can't be real. he thought, his body on autopilot as he ran with Gini. He had enough presence of mind to drag them a little more towards an area they could take cover in after they ran quite a ways, but as soon as he got to that cover he began panicking again. Can't be real... must be a dream...Must be still asleep

It's real Dumkopf! If you start panicking now, we're dead. responded Herbert. Stop being a coward and get your ass in gear.

Thomas breathed in. He would be having nightmares about Memoir for a while now. "That grin... Those bullets." He said, as if saying that out loud calmed him, he seemed to feel a little better, breathing out.

"We need...We need to get in contact with the others. Or figure out a plan..." He said to Anurgini. "Or just run away from him. Whichever keeps us alive." Don't look back. Don't look back at that face...

His .50 cal. pistols flashed into life as he began blasting away at the recruits. Several bullets were sent flying at Jack, Laura, Clarence, and Krouse.

Test for JLCK:
SPD of 2 required to dodge all bullets. SPD of 1 results in minor wound to 1 limb. SPD of 0, and you've become shit.

Clarence threw himself out of the way, pushing Jack to the ground and firing back towards Nolan's approximate position with his AK-47; he trusted Laura to be able to handle this attack, but didn't know anything about Jack's capabilities, and the illusionist was probably the most imporant person here from a tactical viewpoint. [Clarence has a SPD of 3; yes, I know Jack could have dealt with it himself, but Clarence doesn't have the powergrids available, so ... is this fine with you, Charm?] The jerks of the assault rifle in his hands were almost too much: he physically felt his mind going very cold, and his muscles tense up on their own, ready to hurl him towards the attacker - which would be suicide here.
"Upping the dose!", thought Boali hurriedly, panicked. "Sorry, Clarence, this will probably hurt, but bear with it ... and you'll have less than half an hour left." A tremendous feeling of peace washed over him, pushing the madness away; however, it was paradoxally accompanied by a blinding headache, which Clarence shrugged off. Feeling something trickle down his lips, he reached for his face and brought back reddened fingers: he was bleeding from the nose. Not important.

He shaked his head vigorously, focusing on what the people around him were saying. Jackie, who seemed to be made of smoke, had actually had a good idea ... "Jack," Clarence said, his voice weary from the effort of thinking through the tranquilizers, "transmit this to the others: they have to get camouflage. Tell them to change their clothes into something covering them entirely, with random patterns of different shades of gray. It won't help against the snipers, they probably have thermal vision equipment, but the others might be put off."

He turned towards Jackie. "Can you help us too? I'm sure it would get you a better grade. I want you to disperse yourself in this smoky form as widely as possible, especially covering each one of us trainees in a randomly shifting layer of smoke. That will mess with their thermal sights: they will still see us, but they might not be able to aim for precise spots of our bodies. Jack, also transmit this."

Then he answered to Laura. "Wait a moment. We must coordinate with the other groups. When one of us goes, the others cover him by firing at wherever they think an instructor is. I'll stick to Jack to serve as a meat shield at need. Even when they are behind a cover, they have to keep moving on the spot, to make themselves harder to snipe. Jack, can you organize this for us, please?" Then he heard Stern's little speech, saw Lavi darting from her cover and added, "Quickly, if possible."

Jack nodded. Clear orders. Something tangible he could almost touch and feel, and definitely do. Quickly spotting the other gatherings of people, he organised a message. Imagining in his head an illusion piece of paper with the instructions Clarence had given him written down, he projected this image to each of the groups. This message was far from perfect, reading it would be hard, but doable. The only person he had forgotten was a girl he didn't spot, known as Miranda. So Miranda was in the dark on all this.

Laura managed to dodge the bullets, her speed more than enough to do so. She fired a round in the general direction of When she recovered Laura didn't see any reason to disagree, so she didn't. "As long as we keep moving." She replied, "Speaking of moving, we need to move now." She moved without grabbing Clarence, hoping he would realize they were moving, sprinting five yards ahead to a small pile of rubble. Thankfully with enough room for the four of them. Still, Jack grabbed a crate a yard away so he could still communicate with them.

Jack/Laura: 20 yards forward and 5/4 yards left from the door

[Mnar Secundus]

Laura managed to dodge the bullets, her speed more than enough to do so. She fired a round in the general direction of When she recovered Laura didn't see any reason to disagree, so she didn't. "As long as we keep moving." She replied, "Speaking of moving, we need to move now." She moved without grabbing Clarence, hoping he would realize they were moving, sprinting five yards ahead to a small pile of rubble. Thankfully with enough room for the four of them. Still, Jack grabbed a crate a yard away so he could still communicate with them.

Jack/Laura: 20 yards forward and 5/4 yards left from the door

Clarence followed Laura's lead, staying crouched between Jack and Nolan's apparent position, firing his assault rifle towards both the insane man-child and in a wide arc in the approximate direction of the sniper shots' origin to provide some cover. He had obviously changed his clothes to camo, and hoped that Jackie was covering him as he had asked him to do - the smoke was very difficult to see in this darkness.
After reaching the cover, he decided that it was time for some moderate Shuffling. "Boali? Could you harden my bones and give me calluses all over the strikign areas of my body, please?" They had practiced this before: Boali basically produced numerous micro-fractures on his bones, then accelerated their recovery, making them tougher than normal, and she thickened his skin by damaging and repairing it at a very high rate. It was over in a few seconds, and Clarence hardly drew any blood while biting his lips to ignore the pain.

Clarence: With Jack, 20 yards forward and 5 yards left from the door

[Nekronia]

Jackie lurked around in his crate and observed what was happening around him, ignoring the occasional .50 caliber bullet ripping through his area as he thought to himself. Wow, they actually managed to appeal to self-interest. I'm surprised they actually managed to do something competent for once. Oh wow, nosebleeds. Insert generic anime 'EHEYYEHEYEHEH?' here. They really should tr- SIR, YOUR PEERS ARE BEING SHOT AT! DO SOMETHING AT ONCE! Fine, quit being such a baby. It's just bullets. I WAS SHOT TO DEATH, BULLETS AREN'T SOMETHING TO JUST LAUGH OFF! Baby. JUST ASSIST THEM OR ELSE I'LL- Or else what, you'll shoot me? Send us to Hell? Abandon me? Call me names? Oh, so scary, boohoohoo. Quit your yammering, I need contacts anyways. I said I'd do it. Calm yo' tits.

The punk slithered his way out of the crate and did his best to coat the trio of hosts. He couldn't coat them all completely, and was spread rather thing, but at least it might help. It might even help throw off some of the visible spectrum snipers off of the trio, given the less-defined shape of the mildly-shrouded group. The teen was barely able to keep up, and lost 'grip' of them the moment before they reached cover. Jackie then lurked around them in a loose bubble in an attempt to make a smokescreen for the group to throw off both IR and regular sights. "Ahem, continuing from earlier, I'd like to note that I can't spread out that far. I can't keep up with you all in my intangible form as-is, let alone focusing on so many people at once. I can only move at at speedwalking rate when I'm smoke. I'm Jackie Estacado, not Lucen." But your name is Fr- RE-FER-ENCE. "So I'll be able to only do a couple people in a single group at once tops. I lost grip of you all near the end, and that was with me trying to attach to you guys. So I could help people sneak around in small groups at a time, or one person sprint to cover, but not both. So... yeah. Not so perfect there. Eh, kinda feel like just going through a wall and finishing this whole thing anticlimactically by going around the building, but that'd be boooring."

Hm, the sniper in the building could be finished off rather easily if we just had some kind of grenade... "I'm pretty sure the answer is 'yes', but does anyone know for-sure if shooting a bullet's powder area will set it off? We could strap bullets together and make a crude grenade. I'm a good shot with the weapons I have on-hand, so I could probably shoot it out of the air with my pistol if someone tosses it. I've done funner tricks with handguns. The bullets would set eachother off and detonate it, causing it to spit lead everywhere and either A) wound the sniper or B) scare the piss out of the sniper and buy everyone some time. Oh, oh! If we put it in a strong can lying around, we might be able to get the whole thing to explode outright and have a guaranteed hit on the sniper! Eeee~!" The cloud thought for a moment, and resumed shorty afterwards. "Oh, also, you guys might want to lurk around the perimeter after you're done playing baseball with Satan. It'll maximize the distance from the shooters, and make it possible to have cover in ALL directions, whereas right now we will always have minimum one flank uncovered. Said flank is occupied by Chef Boy-rioty." After a short cackle, he yet again resumed. "So yeah, tactics n' stuff, brah. Also, Clarence, you miiiight want to avoid bonking your head. It looks like your brain and-or bloodpressure is going overboard, so in either case, you might pop something if you hit your head on something. We got some shit goin' on of Rise of the Planet of the- Wait a minute, humans are rebelling against God, so it's primates rising up. Oh man, I'm toooootally noting that one, that's just too good. Glory unto Caesaaar." The immature asshole giggled to himself lightly as the dark grey smoke surrounding the motley squad shifted around like a thin hemisphere of blurry snakes.


Jackie: 19-20 yards forward, 4-5 yards left of door. Mostly behind cover.

[Isle of Lithonia]

Lavi breathed in and out, as her deteriorating state of mind made it harder and harder to concentrate on the exciting situation in the warehouse. Bullets flying, explosions rising, and a bunch of untrained recruits fighting for their lives against a vastly superior force. The way that this session was going to end was clear, and a majority would be dead by the end of the night. The only plausible idea for survival would be to use her powers to track the bullets as they came towards her, and then evade. The ability to judge the trajectory, and location of where the bullets would fly by would be an insurmountable help.

"This is probably going to get me killed, but when I revert to being the idiot I was...I wont stand much of a chance anyways," Lavi said to William.

"I agree. If you die, you'll merely be resurrection later on. I wont be able to do much pretty soon," William said sagely. With a final cracking of her fingers, Lavi exited cover and with two glowing red eyes, she began to dart down the middle.

As Lavi rushed forward, Karlson jumped out from behind some crates 60 yards to the N of the front doors, carrying a submachine gun. He let loose something like 25 stun bullets at Lavi before reloading, intent on stopping her.

Test for Lavi:
SPD of 10 allows dodging of all bullets. SPD of 9-8 causes 4 bullets to hit. SPD of 7 causes 10 bullets to hit. SPD of 6-4 causes 23 bullets to hit. Anything less, and you've been hit a shit-ton.

If hit, DUR of 10 causes each bullet to inflict minor wounds. DUR of 9-8 causes a quarter of the bullets to inflict major wounds, and the rest minor. DUR of 7 causes half of the bullets to inflict major wounds. DUR of 6 or less causes 3/4 major wounds, resulting ultimately in a clean knockout if hit by three bullets.

Test for Everyone: INT of 4 and a score of 4 in submachine guns (or host having military training) allows character to recognize Karlson's weapon as a Magpul PDR.

With an INT of 5, characters will notice that Karlson fired off thirty rounds.

Karlson is still 60 yards N of the doors beside some crates.

Clarence followed Laura's lead, staying crouched between Jack and Nolan's apparent position, firing his assault rifle towards both the insane man-child and in a wide arc in the approximate direction of the sniper shots' origin to provide some cover. He had obviously changed his clothes to camo, and hoped that Jackie was covering him as he had asked him to do - the smoke was very difficult to see in this darkness.
After reaching the cover, he decided that it was time for some moderate Shuffling. "Boali? Could you harden my bones and give me calluses all over the strikign areas of my body, please?" They had practiced this before: Boali basically produced numerous micro-fractures on his bones, then accelerated their recovery, making them tougher than normal, and she thickened his skin by damaging and repairing it at a very high rate. It was over in a few seconds, and Clarence hardly drew any blood while biting his lips to ignore the pain.

Clarence: With Jack, 20 yards forward and 5 yards left from the door

Nolan took off, dodging every one of the bullets fired at him. The speed at which he was moving was absolutely ridiculous. Honestly, it was fucking impossible for any human. It was impossible for most demons even. But that's why he was Balaam's favorite assassin.

Jack nodded. Clear orders. Something tangible he could almost touch and feel, and definitely do. Quickly spotting the other gatherings of people, he organised a message. Imagining in his head an illusion piece of paper with the instructions Clarence had given him written down, he projected this image to each of the groups. This message was far from perfect, reading it would be hard, but doable. The only person he had forgotten was a girl he didn't spot, known as Miranda. So Miranda was in the dark on all this.

Laura managed to dodge the bullets, her speed more than enough to do so. She fired a round in the general direction of When she recovered Laura didn't see any reason to disagree, so she didn't. "As long as we keep moving." She replied, "Speaking of moving, we need to move now." She moved without grabbing Clarence, hoping he would realize they were moving, sprinting five yards ahead to a small pile of rubble. Thankfully with enough room for the four of them. Still, Jack grabbed a crate a yard away so he could still communicate with them.

Jack/Laura: 20 yards forward and 5/4 yards left from the door

And Nolan noticed Miranda off on her lonesome. He yelled at her gleefully. "Hey Mira, let's play a game of tag!!!" He pulled out a police baton, extending it with the flick of his wrist. "Okay, I'm 'it'!"

He charged directly at her, preparing to beat her to shit with his baton.

Test for Miranda:
SPD of 6, and you can evade Nolan for about 7 seconds. SPD of 4-5, and you can evade for 5 seconds. SPD of 2-3, and you can evade for 3 seconds. SPD of 1, and he's on you in the blink of an eye.

DUR of 10, and it doesn't cause any damage. DUR of 8-9, you have a minor blow to the right arm. DUR of 7, and you can withstand this first blow with a major wound to the right arm, heavily damaged Bu somewhat usable. DUR of 5-6, and the whole right shoulder is smashed in, rendered inoperable. DUR of 3-4, and the boulder is smashed in, and you break several ribs. DUR of 2 or less, you die.

[Achidyemay]

As a small, green object rolled into view, Conor's first thought was Where did that come from? His second thought was much more beneficial though, Shit! That's a grenade!He had seen grenades before in videogames and such and recognized that it if he didn't do anything than he would be in a much worse situation in a few seconds. In a fluid motion he reached down and spun on his back heel, using centrifugal force to lob it back to where it had came from, of course it exploded in mid-air and never made it back to the shooter. Conor used his Pistol to return fire at the shooter, but stopped as his assailant stopped, wondering where the shooter had gone.
Conor's search for the shooter ceased as colors and shapes flashed in front of his face. He quickly realized that it was a paper and there were symbols and that those symbols were letters and that he could read those letters. In response, he put on a mottled gray cloak and hood. He easily changed his black shirt and shorts to a more mottled gray and spread the new clothing over his arms and legs like spider webs, he was a mesh of gray now and decided to use his gray-ninja appearance to his advantage once again sprinting from cover forward and east again. And again, and again, careful to move during reload times and traveling at speeds that only Nolan had so far beaten. His cloak and speed made him a blur.
Eventually he made it several dozen feet forward and had weaved west to match his east but still ended only seven yards west of the door.

(20 yards forward, seven yards west/right of the door)

He gestured nonchalantly at his comrades from behind his cover, but he figured he was too far away for them to even realize he was here, and besides, what use was he to them anyway?

[Charmera]

Laura managed to dodge the bullets, her speed more than enough to do so. She fired a round in the general direction of When she recovered Laura didn't see any reason to disagree, so she didn't. "As long as we keep moving." She replied, "Speaking of moving, we need to move now." She moved without grabbing Clarence, hoping he would realize they were moving, sprinting five yards ahead to a small pile of rubble. Thankfully with enough room for the four of them. Still, Jack grabbed a crate a yard away so he could still communicate with them.

Jack/Laura: 20 yards forward and 5/4 yards left from the door

Clarence followed Laura's lead, staying crouched between Jack and Nolan's apparent position, firing his assault rifle towards both the insane man-child and in a wide arc in the approximate direction of the sniper shots' origin to provide some cover. He had obviously changed his clothes to camo, and hoped that Jackie was covering him as he had asked him to do - the smoke was very difficult to see in this darkness.
After reaching the cover, he decided that it was time for some moderate Shuffling. "Boali? Could you harden my bones and give me calluses all over the strikign areas of my body, please?" They had practiced this before: Boali basically produced numerous micro-fractures on his bones, then accelerated their recovery, making them tougher than normal, and she thickened his skin by damaging and repairing it at a very high rate. It was over in a few seconds, and Clarence hardly drew any blood while biting his lips to ignore the pain.

Clarence: With Jack, 20 yards forward and 5 yards left from the door

"What did you do?" Asked Laura to Clarence. Preparing to move once more. She remembered Jackie's advice, changing her clothes to a black camouflage with dark grey elements. (Noting to avoid wood if possible.) She began preparing to move, "We should move soon, staying still is a death sentence." She paused. "Or a failing grade, whichever works I suppose."

Jack looked around. "Where the hell is Jackie. " He asked, his active camo slowly returning. He would have to drop it every time he sent a message. "On another note, if anyone needs a distraction or an active camo screen, I can provide it."

Lavi breathed in and out, as her deteriorating state of mind made it harder and harder to concentrate on the exciting situation in the warehouse. Bullets flying, explosions rising, and a bunch of untrained recruits fighting for their lives against a vastly superior force. The way that this session was going to end was clear, and a majority would be dead by the end of the night. The only plausible idea for survival would be to use her powers to track the bullets as they came towards her, and then evade. The ability to judge the trajectory, and location of where the bullets would fly by would be an insurmountable help.

"This is probably going to get me killed, but when I revert to being the idiot I was...I wont stand much of a chance anyways," Lavi said to William.

"I agree. If you die, you'll merely be resurrection later on. I wont be able to do much pretty soon," William said sagely. With a final cracking of her fingers, Lavi exited cover and with two glowing red eyes, she began to dart down the middle.

As Lavi rushed forward, Karlson jumped out from behind some crates 60 yards to the N of the front doors, carrying a submachine gun. He let loose something like 25 stun bullets at Lavi before reloading, intent on stopping her.

Test for Lavi:
SPD of 10 allows dodging of all bullets. SPD of 9-8 causes 4 bullets to hit. SPD of 7 causes 10 bullets to hit. SPD of 6-4 causes 23 bullets to hit. Anything less, and you've been hit a shit-ton.

If hit, DUR of 10 causes each bullet to inflict minor wounds. DUR of 9-8 causes a quarter of the bullets to inflict major wounds, and the rest minor. DUR of 7 causes half of the bullets to inflict major wounds. DUR of 6 or less causes 3/4 major wounds, resulting ultimately in a clean knockout if hit by three bullets.

Test for Everyone: INT of 4 and a score of 4 in submachine guns (or host having military training) allows character to recognize Karlson's weapon as a Magpul PDR.

With an INT of 5, characters will notice that Karlson fired off thirty rounds.

Karlson is still 60 yards N of the doors beside some crates.

Clarence followed Laura's lead, staying crouched between Jack and Nolan's apparent position, firing his assault rifle towards both the insane man-child and in a wide arc in the approximate direction of the sniper shots' origin to provide some cover. He had obviously changed his clothes to camo, and hoped that Jackie was covering him as he had asked him to do - the smoke was very difficult to see in this darkness.
After reaching the cover, he decided that it was time for some moderate Shuffling. "Boali? Could you harden my bones and give me calluses all over the strikign areas of my body, please?" They had practiced this before: Boali basically produced numerous micro-fractures on his bones, then accelerated their recovery, making them tougher than normal, and she thickened his skin by damaging and repairing it at a very high rate. It was over in a few seconds, and Clarence hardly drew any blood while biting his lips to ignore the pain.

Clarence: With Jack, 20 yards forward and 5 yards left from the door

Nolan took off, dodging every one of the bullets fired at him. The speed at which he was moving was absolutely ridiculous. Honestly, it was fucking impossible for any human. It was impossible for most demons even. But that's why he was Balaam's favorite assassin.

Jack nodded. Clear orders. Something tangible he could almost touch and feel, and definitely do. Quickly spotting the other gatherings of people, he organised a message. Imagining in his head an illusion piece of paper with the instructions Clarence had given him written down, he projected this image to each of the groups. This message was far from perfect, reading it would be hard, but doable. The only person he had forgotten was a girl he didn't spot, known as Miranda. So Miranda was in the dark on all this.

Laura managed to dodge the bullets, her speed more than enough to do so. She fired a round in the general direction of When she recovered Laura didn't see any reason to disagree, so she didn't. "As long as we keep moving." She replied, "Speaking of moving, we need to move now." She moved without grabbing Clarence, hoping he would realize they were moving, sprinting five yards ahead to a small pile of rubble. Thankfully with enough room for the four of them. Still, Jack grabbed a crate a yard away so he could still communicate with them.

Jack/Laura: 20 yards forward and 5/4 yards left from the door

And Nolan noticed Miranda off on her lonesome. He yelled at her gleefully. "Hey Mira, let's play a game of tag!!!" He pulled out a police baton, extending it with the flick of his wrist. "Okay, I'm 'it'!"

He charged directly at her, preparing to beat her to shit with his baton.

Test for Miranda:
SPD of 6, and you can evade Nolan for about 7 seconds. SPD of 4-5, and you can evade for 5 seconds. SPD of 2-3, and you can evade for 3 seconds. SPD of 1, and he's on you in the blink of an eye.

DUR of 10, and it doesn't cause any damage. DUR of 8-9, you have a minor blow to the right arm. DUR of 7, and you can withstand this first blow with a major wound to the right arm, heavily damaged Bu somewhat usable. DUR of 5-6, and the whole right shoulder is smashed in, rendered inoperable. DUR of 3-4, and the boulder is smashed in, and you break several ribs. DUR of 2 or less, you die.

"Tag? That doesn't sound too b-" She turned to see the bludgeoning weapon. "Oh Crap baskets. That's what you mean." With this comment, she had less time to evade, but managed to evade the little assassin for for about five seconds, before she was struck. She had used her arm and armour to defend from the blow, which managed to shatter the aura luckily defecting much of the blow and sending her back. As she fell the armors shards clattered around her and her arm stung with sharp pain. Still working on adrenalin, her brain was left with the decision to fight or flight. It considered the former with a cocktail of anger and the beginnings of courage, but then noted the shards of what was once her armour lying around her, amour she would not get back for anywhere up to an hour, even she knew she couldn't fight Nolan and decided she liked her chances better with a bullet than with this assassin. She managed to make this judgement in a blink of an eye, directing her anger at this assignment, and had a single minded desire to prove these instructors wrong in thinking she couldn't do this. She moved quickly, fear and anger sending her towards the door.

Miranda: 18 feet forward, a foot to the right of the door.

[The Templar High Council]

Raven witnessed the explosion only 3 feet up and 27 feet to the right of her. Things seemed to be going well for her not many bullets floated her way even though she was banging on the pillars not to long ago. The girl moved forward into another cover behind a forklift as fast as she could. There she attempted to survey the area front of her by peeking over the seat of the vehicle to make sure she could move again without any problems. Just as she was going to move again a bullet whipped by her cheek that was open to danger. Quickly she moved back into cover then proceed to wait until the others drew the attention of the shooter.

(26 yards north, 18 yards west.)

Suddenly, a bullet came sailing from the dark, bound for the forklift Raven hid behind. The 13mm round was unperturbed by the piece of machinery, and easily sliced through the cover and Raven's skull.

(TEST: You need a speed of "Not gonna happen" to dodge, or a durability of "No way in Hell" to survive. So... dead.)

After her body hit the floor, a whisper of a voice came from unseen speakers overhead at an amplified volume. "Raven Croft: Grade F. Try again next time. And you others might want a plan soon, cause I can see all of you. Even you, kid who nearly killed himself with the handgun earlier. You're next." Anthony dialed in his scope to the IR setting, and saw the cloud as it moved and attempted to cover the kids moving up. It almost worked, except they didn't expect Anthony's scope to be capable of changing settings so rapidly. With the quick shifts between IR, NV, and normal, Anthony could see everything. Regardless of camo or smoke.

---

Maiso heard the voice next from his spot next to Krouse, and watched Raven's corpse hit the floor. "God dammit! We need some plan! Krouse, have you got any way we can get to the others without being blown to pieces?" He saw Jackie's mental note and followed the instructions, though he was already wearing mostly black. Fuma, have you got any shinobi techniques I can make use of while linked? Like a smoke bomb, or flash bomb? Grappling hook? Kunai?

No. At least, not at my current level. Maybe after I become a Red Demon, it could be possible to manifest more than just a sword.

Well, at least we could get it eventually. If there's an eventually. I really don't want to die. Maiso looked back to Krouse, actually pretty scared at this point.

[Imperial--japan]

Lavi breathed in and out, as her deteriorating state of mind made it harder and harder to concentrate on the exciting situation in the warehouse. Bullets flying, explosions rising, and a bunch of untrained recruits fighting for their lives against a vastly superior force. The way that this session was going to end was clear, and a majority would be dead by the end of the night. The only plausible idea for survival would be to use her powers to track the bullets as they came towards her, and then evade. The ability to judge the trajectory, and location of where the bullets would fly by would be an insurmountable help.

"This is probably going to get me killed, but when I revert to being the idiot I was...I wont stand much of a chance anyways," Lavi said to William.

"I agree. If you die, you'll merely be resurrection later on. I wont be able to do much pretty soon," William said sagely. With a final cracking of her fingers, Lavi exited cover and with two glowing red eyes, she began to dart down the middle.

As Lavi rushed forward, Karlson jumped out from behind some crates 60 yards to the N of the front doors, carrying a submachine gun. He let loose something like 25 stun bullets at Lavi before reloading, intent on stopping her.

Test for Lavi:
SPD of 10 allows dodging of all bullets. SPD of 9-8 causes 4 bullets to hit. SPD of 7 causes 10 bullets to hit. SPD of 6-4 causes 23 bullets to hit. Anything less, and you've been hit a shit-ton.

If hit, DUR of 10 causes each bullet to inflict minor wounds. DUR of 9-8 causes a quarter of the bullets to inflict major wounds, and the rest minor. DUR of 7 causes half of the bullets to inflict major wounds. DUR of 6 or less causes 3/4 major wounds, resulting ultimately in a clean knockout if hit by three bullets.

Test for Everyone: INT of 4 and a score of 4 in submachine guns (or host having military training) allows character to recognize Karlson's weapon as a Magpul PDR.

With an INT of 5, characters will notice that Karlson fired off thirty rounds.

Karlson is still 60 yards N of the doors beside some crates.

Lavi was assaulted by a wave of bullets, and as she had expected, her special analysis allowed her to expertly dodge the first seven bullets that came roaring towards her. With a quick dash to the left, and then a quick dash to the right she managed to evade the initial shots. When the first round managed to hit her left shoulder she staggered, but kept on running knowing that stopping would only result in her being completely annihilated. More and more bullets began to pound away against Lavi's form, and the ever optimist girl began to easily falter.

"Probably...really dumb...to do this," Lavi grunted through the pain. The use of her right arm was no longer an option as attempting to raise it only resulted in extreme pain. It felt as though a rib, or a few, had cracked and the only thing keeping Lavi from pausing from pain completely was the adrenaline coursing through her body.

"Before I revert to being a complete idiot...I could at least take another couple good shots," Lavi said before raising her only useable arm. She fired all the rounds in the clip in the general direction that she had been hit from. If she was amazingly lucky, she would manage to hit the perpetrator of her pain. If anything, she would get to make it another dozen yards, and make an opening for some of the other recruits. In her mind, Lavi hoped that her sacrifice for her fellow comrades would get her some benefit in the long run.

When that final thought process of an even slightly intelligent Lavi passed, the world seemed to become so much more narrow. The most amazing thing caught her eye. A butterfly had landed itself on a nearby crate. In a hurry, she darted to the left and ran a single yard before kneeling down in front of said butterfly. The amazing insect had a beautiful red and orange pattern to its wings which only fascinated the eternal optimist further. The combat around her was something she had completely forgotten.

(37 yards north of the front doors)

[Isle of Lithonia]

As Lavi rushed forward, Karlson jumped out from behind some crates 60 yards to the N of the front doors, carrying a submachine gun. He let loose something like 25 stun bullets at Lavi before reloading, intent on stopping her.

Test for Lavi:
SPD of 10 allows dodging of all bullets. SPD of 9-8 causes 4 bullets to hit. SPD of 7 causes 10 bullets to hit. SPD of 6-4 causes 23 bullets to hit. Anything less, and you've been hit a shit-ton.

If hit, DUR of 10 causes each bullet to inflict minor wounds. DUR of 9-8 causes a quarter of the bullets to inflict major wounds, and the rest minor. DUR of 7 causes half of the bullets to inflict major wounds. DUR of 6 or less causes 3/4 major wounds, resulting ultimately in a clean knockout if hit by three bullets.

Test for Everyone: INT of 4 and a score of 4 in submachine guns (or host having military training) allows character to recognize Karlson's weapon as a Magpul PDR.

With an INT of 5, characters will notice that Karlson fired off thirty rounds.

Karlson is still 60 yards N of the doors beside some crates.

Lavi was assaulted by a wave of bullets, and as she had expected, her special analysis allowed her to expertly dodge the first seven bullets that came roaring towards her. With a quick dash to the left, and then a quick dash to the right she managed to evade the initial shots. When the first round managed to hit her left shoulder she staggered, but kept on running knowing that stopping would only result in her being completely annihilated. More and more bullets began to pound away against Lavi's form, and the ever optimist girl began to easily falter.

"Probably...really dumb...to do this," Lavi grunted through the pain. The use of her right arm was no longer an option as attempting to raise it only resulted in extreme pain. It felt as though a rib, or a few, had cracked and the only thing keeping Lavi from pausing from pain completely was the adrenaline coursing through her body.

"Before I revert to being a complete idiot...I could at least take another couple good shots," Lavi said before raising her only useable arm. She fired all the rounds in the clip in the general direction that she had been hit from. If she was amazingly lucky, she would manage to hit the perpetrator of her pain. If anything, she would get to make it another dozen yards, and make an opening for some of the other recruits. In her mind, Lavi hoped that her sacrifice for her fellow comrades would get her some benefit in the long run.

When that final thought process of an even slightly intelligent Lavi passed, the world seemed to become so much more narrow. The most amazing thing caught her eye. A butterfly had landed itself on a nearby crate. In a hurry, she darted to the left and ran a single yard before kneeling down in front of said butterfly. The amazing insect had a beautiful red and orange pattern to its wings which only fascinated the eternal optimist further. The combat around her was something she had completely forgotten.

(37 yards north of the front doors)

Karlson dodged the bullets Lavi tried firing at him, enhancing his speed with short teleporting. Still, he was quite impressed with Lavi's abilities. Damn, that kid is good.

But then she stopped, distracted by a butterfly, and his mood soured. Gotta do something about her ADHD though.

Quickly he reloaded his smg, and put three bullets directly into her head (since there's no way in fuck she's dodging them), knocking her out. After that, he disappeared.

"Tag? That doesn't sound too b-" She turned to see the bludgeoning weapon. "Oh Crap baskets. That's what you mean." With this comment, she had less time to evade, but managed to evade the little assassin for for about five seconds, before she was struck. She had used her arm and armour to defend from the blow, which managed to shatter the aura luckily defecting much of the blow and sending her back. As she fell the armors shards clattered around her and her arm stung with sharp pain. Still working on adrenalin, her brain was left with the decision to fight or flight. It considered the former with a cocktail of anger and the beginnings of courage, but then noted the shards of what was once her armour lying around her, amour she would not get back for anywhere up to an hour, even she knew she couldn't fight Nolan and decided she liked her chances better with a bullet than with this assassin. She managed to make this judgement in a blink of an eye, directing her anger at this assignment, and had a single minded desire to prove these instructors wrong in thinking she couldn't do this. She moved quickly, fear and anger sending her towards the door.

Miranda: 18 feet forward, a foot to the right of the door.

CONSEQUENCE:
-1 point for DUR and STR for remainder of exercise.

Nolan snickered at the running girl. "Come on Mira, don't be a pussy."

He disappeared, reappearing just 15 ft. E and 10 ft. N of Miranda, brandishing his weapon. He took off running directly at her (definitely not at top speed though), yelling with delight.

Test:
SPD of 6, and you can evade Nolan and even continue heading directly for the door. SPD of 3-5, and you can evade Nolan, but are forced to head NE or SE. SPD of 2, and you can evade for 3 seconds, but are then cut off. SPD of 1, and he's on top of you.

If you have an SPD of 2 or less, Nolan will hit you with his whacking stick. DUR of 10, and it doesn't cause any damage. DUR of 8-9, you have a minor blow to the right arm. DUR of 7, and you can withstand this first blow with a major wound to the right arm, heavily damaged Bu somewhat usable. DUR of 5-6, and the whole right shoulder is smashed in, rendered inoperable. DUR of 3-4, and the shoulder is smashed in, and you break several ribs. DUR of 2 or less, you die.

[Nature-Spirits]

A piece of paper appeared before Sander, and he squinted at it, first suspiciously, then in an attempt to read it. The letters and words wavered ever so slightly, but he managed to understand what it said after about 20 seconds of deciphering it. After having done so, he nodded and clicked his tongue, his clothes changing instantly to grey and black camouflage.

Okay, he thought, time to move on.

Then, peeking out from behind his cover and sweeping the room, he noticed that 2 or 3 of his comrades appeared to be dead, and swallowed, ducking back behind the crates. He breathed deeply for a couple of seconds. Okay, I can do this. And.... Now!

He darted out of cover, his eyes locking onto a large crate, maybe 15 metres away. Knowing that if he pushed himself, he could reach it in only a few seconds, he ran faster, feet impacting with the floor with ever-increasing effort.

(OOC: From here on I'm assuming that he reached his cover without being injured. If not, the following will be retconned and my next post will reflect that.)

Sander breathed a sigh of relief as he slid behind the crate unscathed, clutching his firearms to his chest.

(22 m ahead, 15 m to left of the door.)

[Mnar Secundus]

"What did you do?" Asked Laura to Clarence. Preparing to move once more. She remembered Jackie's advice, changing her clothes to a black camouflage with dark grey elements. (Noting to avoid wood if possible.) She began preparing to move, "We should move soon, staying still is a death sentence." She paused. "Or a failing grade, whichever works I suppose."

Jack looked around. "Where the hell is Jackie. " He asked, his active camo slowly returning. He would have to drop it every time he sent a message. "On another note, if anyone needs a distraction or an active camo screen, I can provide it."

"I thickened my skin and hardened my bones, just in case we got attacked like Miranda did. And I upped my dose of tranquilizer, but that's not important right now," Clarence told Laura, wiping some blood from his nose absent-mindedly.
"As for moving, I agree, but we must find a way to keep the instructors at bay ... Those snipers are really taking this seriously. Do you have any idea where they are? I wish we could make a grenade like Jackie proposed, but that's going to take more time than we have, won't it?" If we could, I'm sure Laura could use demon strength to throw it far enough ... Then again, they have telekinesy. We'd need to surprise them somehow for the grenade to reach them. This situation was rather worse than anything he had seen before: in a standard war zone, no matter how harsh, you knew at least that shooting your enemy would hurt them.

"I suggest we shoot in all directions where there might be an instructor while we move out. Jackie, could you keep the smokescreen up? I don't know if it works, but we didn't get shot until now, so it might have some effect." Then Clarence heard Jack: "How many illusions can you create? Could you simulate a flashbang explosion or something like that, in terms of light at least?"

While he asked those questions, he picked up a piece of metal which had fallen from the roof when Raven had tried to bring it down and showed it to Laura: "Also, could you try and break this into approximately knife-sized portions? It might give us an edge in hypothetical CQC. I'd do it myself, but Boali doesn't give me as much demon strength as the average Familiar."

[Is it fine to do this last paragraph? I'm not sure wether deciding that I find a piece of metal counts as godmodding, seeing as it's a rather logical thing to find in a ruined warehouse enduring massive damage. If it's no good, I'll edit it out.]

[Isle of Lithonia]

A piece of paper appeared before Sander, and he squinted at it, first suspiciously, then in an attempt to read it. The letters and words wavered ever so slightly, but he managed to understand what it said after about 20 seconds of deciphering it. After having done so, he nodded and clicked his tongue, his clothes changing instantly to grey and black camouflage.

Okay, he thought, time to move on.

Then, peeking out from behind his cover and sweeping the room, he noticed that 2 or 3 of his comrades appeared to be dead, and swallowed, ducking back behind the crates. He breathed deeply for a couple of seconds. Okay, I can do this. And.... Now!

He darted out of cover, his eyes locking onto a large crate, maybe 15 metres away. Knowing that if he pushed himself, he could reach it in only a few seconds, he ran faster, feet impacting with the floor with ever-increasing effort.

(OOC: From here on I'm assuming that he reached his cover without being injured. If not, the following will be retconned and my next post will reflect that.)

Sander breathed a sigh of relief as he slid behind the crate unscathed, clutching his firearms to his chest.

(22 m ahead, 15 m to left of the door.)

As soon as he reached the cover, five shots rang out, the bullets piercing through the crate.

Test:
SPD of 5 to dodge all bullets. SPD of 4, and you're hit by 1. SPD of 3, hit by 2. SPD of 2, hit by 3... (carry on with the pattern)

If hit, DUR of 7 causes each bullet to inflict minor damage to the torso. DUR of 5-6 causes medium damage to torso. DUR of 3-4 causes major wound. DUR of 2 or less is instant death.

Note: 2 minor wounds equals a medium wound, 2 medium equals a major, and three majors equals incapacitation.

Test for all:
INT of 5 required to determine that the gunshots came from the W end of the building, although you won't know exactly where it is.

[Charmera]

Lavi was assaulted by a wave of bullets, and as she had expected, her special analysis allowed her to expertly dodge the first seven bullets that came roaring towards her. With a quick dash to the left, and then a quick dash to the right she managed to evade the initial shots. When the first round managed to hit her left shoulder she staggered, but kept on running knowing that stopping would only result in her being completely annihilated. More and more bullets began to pound away against Lavi's form, and the ever optimist girl began to easily falter.

"Probably...really dumb...to do this," Lavi grunted through the pain. The use of her right arm was no longer an option as attempting to raise it only resulted in extreme pain. It felt as though a rib, or a few, had cracked and the only thing keeping Lavi from pausing from pain completely was the adrenaline coursing through her body.

"Before I revert to being a complete idiot...I could at least take another couple good shots," Lavi said before raising her only useable arm. She fired all the rounds in the clip in the general direction that she had been hit from. If she was amazingly lucky, she would manage to hit the perpetrator of her pain. If anything, she would get to make it another dozen yards, and make an opening for some of the other recruits. In her mind, Lavi hoped that her sacrifice for her fellow comrades would get her some benefit in the long run.

When that final thought process of an even slightly intelligent Lavi passed, the world seemed to become so much more narrow. The most amazing thing caught her eye. A butterfly had landed itself on a nearby crate. In a hurry, she darted to the left and ran a single yard before kneeling down in front of said butterfly. The amazing insect had a beautiful red and orange pattern to its wings which only fascinated the eternal optimist further. The combat around her was something she had completely forgotten.

(37 yards north of the front doors)

Karlson dodged the bullets Lavi tried firing at him, enhancing his speed with short teleporting. Still, he was quite impressed with Lavi's abilities. Damn, that kid is good.

But then she stopped, distracted by a butterfly, and his mood soured. Gotta do something about her ADHD though.

Quickly he reloaded his smg, and put three bullets directly into her head (since there's no way in fuck she's dodging them), knocking her out. After that, he disappeared.

"Tag? That doesn't sound too b-" She turned to see the bludgeoning weapon. "Oh Crap baskets. That's what you mean." With this comment, she had less time to evade, but managed to evade the little assassin for for about five seconds, before she was struck. She had used her arm and armour to defend from the blow, which managed to shatter the aura luckily defecting much of the blow and sending her back. As she fell the armors shards clattered around her and her arm stung with sharp pain. Still working on adrenalin, her brain was left with the decision to fight or flight. It considered the former with a cocktail of anger and the beginnings of courage, but then noted the shards of what was once her armour lying around her, amour she would not get back for anywhere up to an hour, even she knew she couldn't fight Nolan and decided she liked her chances better with a bullet than with this assassin. She managed to make this judgement in a blink of an eye, directing her anger at this assignment, and had a single minded desire to prove these instructors wrong in thinking she couldn't do this. She moved quickly, fear and anger sending her towards the door.

Miranda: 18 feet forward, a foot to the right of the door.

CONSEQUENCE:
-1 point for DUR and STR for remainder of exercise.

Nolan snickered at the running girl. "Come on Mira, don't be a pussy."

He disappeared, reappearing just 15 ft. E and 10 ft. N of Miranda, brandishing his weapon. He took off running directly at her (definitely not at top speed though), yelling with delight.

Test:
SPD of 6, and you can evade Nolan and even continue heading directly for the door. SPD of 3-5, and you can evade Nolan, but are forced to head NE or SE. SPD of 2, and you can evade for 3 seconds, but are then cut off. SPD of 1, and he's on top of you.

If you have an SPD of 2 or less, Nolan will hit you with his whacking stick. DUR of 10, and it doesn't cause any damage. DUR of 8-9, you have a minor blow to the right arm. DUR of 7, and you can withstand this first blow with a major wound to the right arm, heavily damaged Bu somewhat usable. DUR of 5-6, and the whole right shoulder is smashed in, rendered inoperable. DUR of 3-4, and the shoulder is smashed in, and you break several ribs. DUR of 2 or less, you die.

Miranda gritted her teeth at the insult, but she knew attacking him would be what he wanted. Fear was starting to creep into her emotional shield of anger, but she had to keep moving. She then realised he was still running after her, and redoubled her efforts to get away, running several yards North East. "What do I have to do to get you to stop trying to beat me to death?" She asked angrily, frustrated at her inability to do anything about the boy assassin following her.

"What did you do?" Asked Laura to Clarence. Preparing to move once more. She remembered Jackie's advice, changing her clothes to a black camouflage with dark grey elements. (Noting to avoid wood if possible.) She began preparing to move, "We should move soon, staying still is a death sentence." She paused. "Or a failing grade, whichever works I suppose."

Jack looked around. "Where the hell is Jackie. " He asked, his active camo slowly returning. He would have to drop it every time he sent a message. "On another note, if anyone needs a distraction or an active camo screen, I can provide it."

"I thickened my skin and hardened my bones, just in case we got attacked like Miranda did. And I upped my dose of tranquilizer, but that's not important right now," Clarence told Laura, wiping some blood from his nose absent-mindedly.
"As for moving, I agree, but we must find a way to keep the instructors at bay ... Those snipers are really taking this seriously. Do you have any idea where they are? I wish we could make a grenade like Jackie proposed, but that's going to take more time than we have, won't it?" If we could, I'm sure Laura could use demon strength to throw it far enough ... Then again, they have telekinesy. We'd need to surprise them somehow for the grenade to reach them. This situation was rather worse than anything he had seen before: in a standard war zone, no matter how harsh, you knew at least that shooting your enemy would hurt them.

"I suggest we shoot in all directions where there might be an instructor while we move out. Jackie, could you keep the smokescreen up? I don't know if it works, but we didn't get shot until now, so it might have some effect." Then Clarence heard Jack: "How many illusions can you create? Could you simulate a flashbang explosion or something like that, in terms of light at least?"

While he asked those questions, he picked up a piece of metal which had fallen from the roof when Raven had tried to bring it down and showed it to Laura: "Also, could you try and break this into approximately knife-sized portions? It might give us an edge in hypothetical CQC. I'd do it myself, but Boali doesn't give me as much demon strength as the average Familiar."

[Is it fine to do this last paragraph? I'm not sure wether deciding that I find a piece of metal counts as godmodding, seeing as it's a rather logical thing to find in a ruined warehouse enduring massive damage. If it's no good, I'll edit it out.]

"So far I only have the capacity to make and manipulate two illusions at a time." he then paused, listening as Jane supplied him with extra information. "My illusions are light based, though I do have a limited range with them, I could conceivably make an explosion of light, but it would disperse any illusions I have currently and leave me drained for a little while."

"Well have to make note of their positions when we can. Though it would be best to mostly aim to disable or suppress them, otherwise none of us have any hope of hurting or knocking them out ." Laura replied, she was under no illusion about he ability to hurt the instructors. Laura grabbed the metal, looking to another set of cover. "First, lets move, I think we've been here long enough." She sprinted off, stopping six yards forwards next to a stack of one rectangle crate and a box crate.

She slid into cover, Jack finding a small barrel nearby. Laura looks at the metal, from its easiness to bend she could determine it was a thing sheet aluminium, though thankfully it should be able to tear easier too and hopefully it wouldn't be an abysmal knife... She tore at it with telekinesis and strength combined and with some help from Jack, getting two knife shapes for both Jack and Clarence. "I don't need one. I'm much better with blunt weapons than knives."

Laura/Jack: 26 Yards forwards and 6 yards to the left.

[The Floating Island of the Sleeping God]

Maiso heard the voice next from his spot next to Krouse, and watched Raven's corpse hit the floor. "God dammit! We need some plan! Krouse, have you got any way we can get to the others without being blown to pieces?" He saw Jackie's mental note and followed the instructions, though he was already wearing mostly black. Fuma, have you got any shinobi techniques I can make use of while linked? Like a smoke bomb, or flash bomb? Grappling hook? Kunai?

No. At least, not at my current level. Maybe after I become a Red Demon, it could be possible to manifest more than just a sword.

Well, at least we could get it eventually. If there's an eventually. I really don't want to die. Maiso looked back to Krouse, actually pretty scared at this point.

Krouse put a hand on Maiso's shoulder, sensing his rising panic. He used a bit of Jack's power, infusing his words with a tinkling musical sound. "Don't freak out just yet, pal. I need a moment to think. Let me know if we're about to get jumped."
Krouse bowed his head and narrowed his eyes, picturing the room. His thoughts moved by in a blur, taking a few seconds at the most. Okay. There's at least one sniper, he's north of us. No, two snipers, there were two voices for the two one shot kills. At least one shooter, West, automatic weapon. Karlson was right in front of us, now he's not, possibly the same shooter, not sure how fast he is. Nolan the sex offender's behind us somewhere. I hear Memoir around here. Threat assessment: Memoir and Nolan are liable to toy with their targets, ignore them for the time being. Karlson and the sniper - snipers? - are playing for keeps. Avoid them. Karlson might respect an honest fight, as if any of us would last, but I doubt the snipers would give anyone time to notice their presence. No use fighting. Just need to run. Okay.
The piece of illusory paper materialized in front of his face. He perked his head up at it and gave it a quick read. Satisfactory. He faced the ground again and reviewed the situation one last time.
Assets. We have an illusionist, useful. Girl that makes people cold, maybe useful. Guy who becomes smoke, definitely useful. Soothing voice, that's me, situationally useful.
He looked up at Maiso. "Okay. We follow the plan the others set up. I need to get near either the girl who changes temperatures or the jackass who turns into smoke, then we'll be in business. There's a shooter to the West. If I fire that way and you fire towards the snipers, we might be able to make a window for the rest of us. I'll start shooting when you do, and I'll tell the others to move up. Got it?"

[Nekronia]

Jackie coated Jack and Laura (and presumably Clarence as well) as they sprinted to their next batch of cover, them resumed surrounding the trio like the glass of a snowglobe. Once they settled, the intangible punk resumed his regular bouts of speaking endlessly but this time speaking at a quicker rate in order to cover everything.

"Other-Jack, I'm orbiting you guys as a cloud of warm, dark smoke. I can't tell very well how bad I'm blocking your guys' vision, so I think I'll recap what I've seen since this is kinda important: We have someone with an automatic weapon flanking us to the left, along with Nolan who is distracted at the current moment. The autogunner is either Karlson, Lightheart, or Memoir, but I will presume Karlson due to Karlson disappearing so suddenly as though merged and Memoir not being disciplined enough to stay quiet. Dana's lost some belly weight from Prince who's using an anti-material rifle with live rounds, and Lavi got shot up but managed to dodge some bullets before staring at a butterfly. Lavi seems fine so fa- nope she just got shot in the head a few times. Colonel Sander is a little bit behind us and just shot at by the autogunner, but he seems fine. Memoir's running around somewhere with a deagle or sawed-off or somethin', but I think he's quite a bit behind us. Tony's sniping people from above and wants to kill me next despite not having any visible means to do so at the moment. He blew Raven's head off. So yeah, we'll need multi-directional cover since everyone but the snipers are flanking us."

After his recap and mild advice, he continued with important information. "Oh, and we can now deduce the general locations of all opponents now that everyone's come out to play! Nolan is moving at superspeed, Karlson seems to have teleported, Memoir is running around, and Tony seems to have a sufficiently high enough angle to view everyone at once, which would warrant being on the ceiling or being somewhere else up really high, so there's likely either demon magic or crude constructions at work that would warrant a demon guarding the construction presuming he's not mentally handicapped. So all but Conrad are with their demon, except for Selena who I am not yet sure of due to the lesser activity from her so Sullius could still be lurking around somewhere. So we have either six or seven opponents, and we know their general locations aside from Selena who is moving around and possibly Sullius. We just need to know their positions, at which point we may abuse this knowledge in any way we see fit. Possibly by being in cover near a wall and having cover from all opponents, granting us nigh-invulnerability as long as we keep the AM marksmen distracted."

Shit... should I tell them the overpowered trick that absolutely everyone seems to have forgotten? It'd help them all, but... nah. This'll be much MUCH more fun~ What? Tell them, you need to tell them if you know something, this is very important! Shit, you're still here. Okay, but no, I'm not telling them just yet. If they remember it, they'll know. If they don't, I get to show off and succeed. If nothing happens, then no one will know that I knew what I know, and I still have my ace. This isn't a secret, it should be common knowledge, but I'm not telling them the OP secret plis nerf. B- No. This is critical. I might be a kiddo to ya, but ya need to understand that this information would directly risk you and risk me and, worst of all, risk us losing our grade. If we need them to know later, I will inform them. You s- Zzzzzip it. You have nothing onhand that will persuade me as you will not do so. Fine.

Hm, I should probably pop a shot at Nolan while he's distracted since he seems rather unaware of me and I have a clear shot at him with my sniper... nah. My hide's worth more and Tony wants to steeaaal it.

The cloud resumed yet again, this time keeping it punctual: "Oh, and Other-Jack: You might want to shine your magic flashlight on some of the opponents so we can have a confirmed location. For example, up around at the ceiling so we can know the static sniper's position. Since he can apparently see EVERYONE, he might even be stunned for a moment if he's using a nightvision scope too closely. This could be our manner of distracting the snipers: Shining lights in their scopes so they can't aim. If you can shine light into the infrared spectrum as well, we'll have all our bases covered! Yaaay, survival and stuff."

[Achidyemay]

Just a straight, dead run at my comrades, through no-man's-land, without a suitable cover, directly into the open, right in front of the door, at dead sprint, right in front of Karlson and God knows who else, I can ma- not make it. What am I thinking? I can't make that! It's 12 yards to the nearest cover. I can't stay here, Nolan'll get me or I might give the snipers a clear shot, and I certainly can't go back... Everywhere Is Suicide!
Ahem. The shadow next to Conor shimmered slightly.
"Ugh!" Conor let out a grunt of frustration, realizing he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Pouton had started to hum Tchaikovsky"s 1812 overture, somehow managing to hum it in a particular way that whenever a canon shot would have occurred in the song, a shot rang out somewhere in the warehouse. Adrenaline throbbed in Conor's ears and his palms became sweaty, Pouton's humming was not helping things.
Where are we going? He asked fear creeping into his mental voice as well. He was certain that his actual voice would crack and shake. Pouton stopped humming.
Oh right, you refuse to look through my eyes, there happens to be a fairly large shadow thrown by that group of youngsters over there, in fact the-one-that-becomes-fog is creating the most delectably large one.
Conor's thought process was a range of different emotions, which was strange to him because not an hour previously he had had no emotions. And suddenly something tripped inside him, like an emotional circuit breaker, and he went totally blank and jumped down the rabbit hole.

This proved to be a good thing and a bad thing, while wiping away his emotions with a mental sponge allowed him to slip into the icy shadows, it also left him vulnerable to the supreme sadness of the void. The adrenaline in his body was washed away, there wasn't even room for fear among the cold. It wrapped around him and tried to strangle him, choked back tears began to form and just as he was about to cry out, something he knew was bad but couldn't help: He was there.

Conor had appeared lying on his back only 12 yards to his left, reappearing behind Krouse. Conor rolled over and the adrenaline washed back over him, along with it came the fear and beyond that was the sadness of what he had left behind. He gagged and then the remnants of his banana began to work its way disgustingly back up his throat, coming out dangerously close to Krouse's shoes. He sat up into a crouched position and mumbled apologetically, at least he was conscious. Gratefulness washed over him as well and, amid all of these new emotions, the emotion-breaker sprung. Conor's smile dissipated, he was back in the war zone, taking in his new surroundings.

[Isle of Lithonia]

Miranda gritted her teeth at the insult, but she knew attacking him would be what he wanted. Fear was starting to creep into her emotional shield of anger, but she had to keep moving. She then realised he was still running after her, and redoubled her efforts to get away, running several yards North East. "What do I have to do to get you to stop trying to beat me to death?" She asked angrily, frustrated at her inability to do anything about the boy assassin following her.

OOC: Nolan let Miranda get thirty-five yards N of the front doors before doing this.

Nolan was having the time of his life now. Goodness, he rarely was allowed to toy with his prey for so long, so he really enjoyed this. When he heard her question, he almost tripped because of how hard he was laughing. He yelled back at her, "I'll stop if you give me a big kiss!"

He teleported just to her front and right, attempting to give her a nice whack with his stick.

Test (and remember the consequences from earlier when determining this):

SPD of 6, and you evade Nolan's attack, continuing N. SPD of 4-5, Nolan whacks you on the arm, and forces you to head NW (if'n yer not knocked owt). SPD of 3 or less, and you run directly into him and get whacked in the arm.

If hit, DUR of 7 and it doesn't cause any damage. DUR of 6, you have a minor blow to the right arm. DUR of 4-5, and your arm is broken. DUR of 2-3, and the whole right shoulder is smashed in, rendered inoperable. DUR of 1 or less, and you are incapacitated.

If you run into Nolan, STR of 5 to knock him over, STR of 4 to push past him, STR of 3 or less and you are stopped in your tracks as if you hit a meaty wall.

[Imperial--japan]

Selena stood in the darkness behind a stack of crates. The training had gone on long enough, and so the sound sorceress stepped out ever so slightly. In her left hand was a conductors baton, and in the other was a small metal podium. She set it down proceeded to orchestrate according to the notes on the paper.

"Please stay quiet and enjoy the show"! Selena called out in sadistic glee. Her typical band uniform adorned her figure, and when the baton began its fluid movement, the sound of an orchestra rang out throughout the warehouse. The notes physically removed themselves from the sheet of paper and levitated throughout the entire area. Dozens on notes doing nothing but following Selena's graceful movements. As for the recruits, all of them except for Miranda began to suffer severe headaches, followed by a bleeding of the ears. Laughter could be heard coming from the notes as they enveloped some of the crumbling recruits in a linked hug. Their bites were vicious, like a pack of Piranhas.

"Now for the finale"! She called out. The pain that all the recruits, with the exception of Miranda doubled and within thirty seconds, their heads exploded.

"Quite a wonderful display if I may say so," Selena stated to nobody, but herself and her comrades. Now the only remaining recruit was Miranda, but she would leave her to Karlson.

[Isle of Lithonia]

Selena stood in the darkness behind a stack of crates. The training had gone on long enough, and so the sound sorceress stepped out ever so slightly. In her left hand was a conductors baton, and in the other was a small metal podium. She set it down proceeded to orchestrate according to the notes on the paper.

"Please stay quiet and enjoy the show"! Selena called out in sadistic glee. Her typical band uniform adorned her figure, and when the baton began its fluid movement, the sound of an orchestra rang out throughout the warehouse. The notes physically removed themselves from the sheet of paper and levitated throughout the entire area. Dozens on notes doing nothing but following Selena's graceful movements. As for the recruits, all of them except for Miranda began to suffer severe headaches, followed by a bleeding of the ears. Laughter could be heard coming from the notes as they enveloped some of the crumbling recruits in a linked hug. Their bites were vicious, like a pack of Piranhas.

"Now for the finale"! She called out. The pain that all the recruits, with the exception of Miranda doubled and within thirty seconds, their heads exploded.

"Quite a wonderful display if I may say so," Selena stated to nobody, but herself and her comrades. Now the only remaining recruit was Miranda, but she would leave her to Karlson.

Karlson appeared beside Selena after the finale, slinging his PDR over his shoulder and giving the conductor a round of applause. He smirked when he surveyed the aftermath of Selena's symphonic execution. "Beautifully executed, as always."

He yelled out at the other instructors. "Conrad, Corbin, our work is done for now. Leave Miranda to Nolan, and we'll see if she cracks. And Conrad," he said while looking in the direction of the human mist, "have Memoir take out the Jackie-ass."

[The Templar High Council]

Selena stood in the darkness behind a stack of crates. The training had gone on long enough, and so the sound sorceress stepped out ever so slightly. In her left hand was a conductors baton, and in the other was a small metal podium. She set it down proceeded to orchestrate according to the notes on the paper.

"Please stay quiet and enjoy the show"! Selena called out in sadistic glee. Her typical band uniform adorned her figure, and when the baton began its fluid movement, the sound of an orchestra rang out throughout the warehouse. The notes physically removed themselves from the sheet of paper and levitated throughout the entire area. Dozens on notes doing nothing but following Selena's graceful movements. As for the recruits, all of them except for Miranda began to suffer severe headaches, followed by a bleeding of the ears. Laughter could be heard coming from the notes as they enveloped some of the crumbling recruits in a linked hug. Their bites were vicious, like a pack of Piranhas.

"Now for the finale"! She called out. The pain that all the recruits, with the exception of Miranda doubled and within thirty seconds, their heads exploded.

"Quite a wonderful display if I may say so," Selena stated to nobody, but herself and her comrades. Now the only remaining recruit was Miranda, but she would leave her to Karlson.

Karlson appeared beside Selena after the finale, slinging his PDR over his shoulder and giving the conductor a round of applause. He smirked when he surveyed the aftermath of Selena's symphonic execution. "Beautifully executed, as always."

He yelled out at the other instructors. "Conrad, Corbin, our work is done for now. Leave Miranda to Nolan, and we'll see if she cracks. And Conrad," he said while looking in the direction of the human mist, "have Memoir take out the Jackie-ass."

"Sir, yes sir." Anthony packed his gear, including, but not limited to: his XM500, M4A1, MP7, M1911, multiple grenades of various purpose, spotting scope (with optional tripod), explosive detonators ("clackers"), a pair of knives, and various other military implementations of war. All were placed in a pair of duffel bags and brought to the ground floor, along with Anthony himself, on the platform he used to snipe from.

Thanks for the help, Chesty.

No problem, my boy! Hell, that was actually fun. I didn't think terrorizing children from the rafters of a warehouse with a large caliber rifle could be so entertaining. Chesty unlinked from Anthony, both of them rubbing their shoulders.

"I'm gonna head and get something to drink. Wanna come, Conrad?"