Victoria vs. 30 Armed Men

With the rain we'd had, there was a degree of slipperiness to the dirt and grass. Twenty five, maybe thirty people were coming at us- it was hard to count when the allegiance of some of the hostages was so unclear, and some had guns. All had a loose arrangement of hostages in front of them. Some of the hostages slipped as they ran, and they were trampled by those behind.

*****

I saw one person who had a gun I could make out, a rifle painted a dark green with a coarse, grippy texture. The Wretch and I relieved him of the burden of having to carry a rifle and having unbroken hands.

I knew I was risking getting shot by the first person with the presence of mind to point a handgun at me in an casual way, instead of drawing the thing and sticking their arm out. Risky too, to fight when I didn't have the use of my left arm, and a good hit to my arm when I was defenseless could bring me to my knees with the pain.

The aura helped make people stupid, and I could use positioning in another way, moving fluidly and unpredictably as I ducked and darted between people.

I wasn't about to back off when they were this close to Gilpatrick, potentially Jasper, and others I'd worked with. Even the pissy anti-cape types deserved to come out of this okay.

Handgun? I brought the Wretch out and slapped at arm or weapon. Knife? I did the same. Bat? Easy to hit the weapon and send it back toward the wielder's face.

A few braver members of their group pressed in, trying to dogpile me, grabbing instead of punching or swinging. Harder to deal with, until I brought the Wretch out a bit longer. I could see them react as it unfolded, like an irregularly shaped bubble around me.

I withdrew the Wretch before it could get a grip on anyone or anything.

One pointed a gun at me, and I flew past the gun to drive my forehead into his face. Instinct, not pre-planning, but I was thinking the Warrior Monk would forgive me on that. My arm hurt, inexplicably, from me delivering a hit with my head, and my forehead hurt. I wasn't wearing my mask- it still dangled from my waist, the curve allowing it to rest against my thigh.

I didn't let it show. I watched the others back off, the recent damage and the aura being ample reason. One had four bloody marks swelling on his chest, and I realized I'd been too slow to dismiss the Wretch, or it had been too quick to unfold. She had managed to stab her fingertips into flesh.

*****

One of them looked at the hostages, who'd made it to the dirt road and now crouched there. I flew straight for them, pushing past the people in the way with enough force to knock them over.

My thought, my instinct, was that if they had a gun, I wanted to already be there, ready to stop them. They didn't have a gun, so I went easy. I kicked them across the lower legs, the Wretch momentarily active.

"Stand down and don't even fucking look at them," I said, pointing at the people they'd used as human shields. "And don't fucking think of raising a weapon. I will shatter you, and you can see how well they take care of you here, or you can go to the hospital, get fixed up, and they'll send you back home."

I paused. I stared at them, meeting each one's eye in turn. Roughly half their number were on the ground.

- Pitch 6.4