Every high school must have a low man on its totem pole: the poor sole who is the butt of all jokes, the object of all pranks, the victim of thoughtless cruelty by students of all sorts and, embarrassingly often, the faculty as well.
Foundation City's First Memorial High might be thought unique, for its low man is, in fact, a teacher.
Mr. T. Una is, it is widely believed, of either Eastern European or Martian descent. Short and rotund, his wide, pink-cheeked face and massive black mutachio (compenstaion, it seems quite certain, for the sole three hairs on top of his scalp) might be considered jolly, were his eyes not not black and beady slits. He teaches both mathematics and computer programming, and on this fine Friday day, it is the latter in which he finds himself engaged.
The lesson has followed its usual, predictable course: an incoherent lecture, interspersed with irrelevant homophobic remarks and delivered in a whining, high-pitched voice, which continued until the constant stream of sniggers, sallies, and spitballs eventually drove Mr. Una to sulk unlamented at the front of the class. So for the remainder of the lecture (which, as it turns out, is the majority) the students disperse to the various machines lined neatly up along the sides of the rooms, ostensibly to work on their current ill-defined homework assignment.
As is their wont, William Sykes and Simon Marconi manage to obtain adjacent computers. By chance, they find themselves sitting by David Windsor, who has only recently come to be at F.M.H. after moving to Foundation from New York City.
And here we go! Take the time to introduce your characters, do some initial character development, etc. Brian, Hal, feel free to start working towards discovering your powers -- if you don't, of course, I'll feel free to help you along.
David glanced around, a bit surprised at the whole casualness to the affair. He was currently dressed in casual schoolware, not really dressed to stand out. Sitting down, he glanced at the fellow next to him. "Kind of wild. Is it like this every day?"
Dracos
Simon didn't bother to even look away from the computer to reply.
"Pretty much," he replies. "Computer applications is a complete blowoff class, but it at least gets you time in the lab."
The young man takes a moment to push his round-rimmed glasses up, as they're in imminent danger of sliding off the end of his nose. His slightly pudgy features settle into a grin as he continues working on the computer.
"He's all wind, though. Just don't pay any attention to him and you'll be fine."
"Fair enough." David smiled. "My name's David, I'm still a bit new around here. Used to it being a bit more...controlled up in New York."
Dracos
As if to punctuate that, three paper airplanes flying in formation soar over your heads in the general direction of Mr. Una.
Sighing, William finishes firing off a batch of pre-formatted e-mails on his webmail account to people asking for information about the Blue Shield. After that, he spends a moment browsing the official Fan Club forums.
Once he's done, he looks up from his screen and rubs at his temples. William is an average sized sixteen year old boy with somewhat shaggy and poorly maintained brown hair. He's also got a very unassuming demeanor, which may be why no one noticed him until he finished with his web-stuff.
Realizing there was a new student across from his friend, William asks, "Hey, have you ever seen the Blue Shield? I heard about his last operation in New York -- they're still setting up the pictures for the e-newsletter. Were you there for that?"
David blinks, briefly caught off guard by the barrage of questions. "No, never seen him, though I've read of him a number of times in the newspaper. And nope, I've not been in the middle of one of his fights. Um...you are?"
Dracos
"Oh," William says after a pause, blinking. "I'm William Sykes, president of the National Blue Shield Fan-Club." He offers a hand for a handshake. "You said your name was David?"
There is a "thump" from the front of the room, and you hear Mr. Una shrill, "If I am hearing of the one more plane from you queers, yes, I will be telling you what I am doing, oh yes oh yes!"
"Yes. That it is. At least offstage. You're seriously the fan club president?" David followed the whole trend of the class, ignoring the odd teacher.
Dracos
After David doesn't return the handshake, William produces his official Fan-Club ID card, and shows it to him. "I've always thought heroes were cool," he said. "There's a lot of chatter about them on the forums all the time. Most of it is hear-say, but some of it's pretty neat stuff."
"Woah, neat stuff." David handed it back to him. "I never really followed all that closely."
Dracos
Spitballs, when fired through a drinking straw, make a sound commonly rendered, somewhat inadequately, as "pfut." It is an onomatopoeia engrained into the unconcious of every student.
The sound that the volley that passes over your heads makes bears as much resemblance to that archetypical "pfut" as the "pop" of a cork-gun bears to a twenty-one cannon salute.
"What the hell?" David turns to see what caused such a ruckus.
Dracos
"Yeah, it'd be awesome to get to meet a real hero," Simon grins. "Simon Marconi, by the way - nice to meet you, David."
"Enough with the talking!" comes the cry from the front of the room, the sound of a chair scraping along the floor making itself heard as Mr. Una gets up to dispense some impotent rage. Just as the teacher's balding head rises into view, Simon smirks and pushes his glasses up his nose - and a sudden whine and insistent beeping arise from the teacher's computer, which appears to be smoking.
"Gotta love old Fish-lips," he grins. "Better than the movies some days."
Mr. Una stands, gaping at the smoking ruins of his 286 PC (with hard drive), just long enough to take a round dozen spitballs in the face.
"Enough!" He screams shrilly. "Always with the disrespecting! Always with the spheres of spit and the blowings of the computer! I am not needing this! I am not wanting this! You are all taking the detention... FOREVER!"
And with that, he runs out of the room, moving remarkably fast for someone who looks like he has most of an ironworks lodged in his pants.
"You know, I was sitting through that, and I'm not quite sure what just happened. Did I mention this is a crazy school?"
Dracos
"You get used to it," William replies absently, shutting his computer monitor off, and going through some fan-club paperwork.
"Huh, so what's neat around this city? I haven't had much of a chance to explore yet."
Dracos
"In this city?" William sighs. "Well, let's just say I'm not the president of the National Blue Shield Fan-Club because I needed a break from the excitement around here."
At this juncture, the wall of the classroom explodes inwards.
Standing in the wreckage, surrounded by swirling clouds of plaster, is a short, rotund figure, with a wide, pink-cheeked face. His beady eyes glare out, and his bold mustachio twitch in a way that would almost been intimidating were they not framed by a (very unfortunately) tight-fitting green bodysuit, complete with red shorts, a tri-peaked green hood, and some sort of amulet hanging on his chest.
As he steps into the classroom, his goatee quivers with a triumphant laugh as he surveys the groaning students strewn about the floor. "Not so proud now, are we, Mr. Fairies?" he taunts. "Not now with all of your mocking and your laughing! No, now there is no disrespect! Now there will be the respect, and the city will be providing me muchly with the monies! Oh, yes... for else they will feel the hand of... THE MIGHTY TINGLE!"
Simon looks up from his now-prone position on the floor. "What the hell...?" he mutters dazedly, taking a minute to retrieve his glasses before looking at the source of the disaster. "What the... who the heck is that?"
David starts by pinching himself. Then he lightly shakes William. "I'm hallucinating right? Our teacher didn't just toss on a costume and smash through a wall to complain about spitballs?"
Dracos
"Uh," William manages, gaping at the sight. "Is he.... Did that...." Blinking it off, he says, "This is, in fact, new."
"That is...one way to put it." David did a quick glance around the room to see how the rest of the students were reacting.
Dracos
The rest of the students are currently much in the same position: to wit, flat on the ground, covered in dirt, and only now groggily becoming aware of their perilous peril!
A large, barrel-chested boy that William and Simon recognize as Barry Bathis, the nicest guy on the football team, is the first to get all the way to his feet. "Mr. Una?" he asks, groggily.
"Yes?" replies the dastardly villain in green. "No, wait! No! I am not knowing the handsome and the charming Mr. Una! I am the Mighty Tingle!" Shaking his fist at Barry, he adds, "Now, you are with the getting back down on the ground, yes, Mr. Football Fairy, so I can be using you to be getting monies!"
David blinks and watches a bit staying low for a second to see what happens.
Dracos
Staring incredulously, William shakes his head. "This is unreal," he says slowly. After a pause, he adds, "Also, I don't like the way he's calling us 'faries'."
In the distance, you can just faintly hear sirens -- and it seems Mr. Una can hear them, too, though... "What is the noise? Who is making the noise? You are telling me now, yes, or detentions for all of you!"
David remains low by William. "Neither do I...he really seems out of it...you think the police can handle him?"
Dracos
William considers his options briefly. As a card-carrying member (and president!) of the Blue-Shield Fanclub, he can't help but think that he should do something to help.
Then again, section seven of the F.A.Q. (How To Avoid Becoming a Hostage While Emulating Your Hero) advises against this.
"I'm not sure," William whispers back. "He's not completely out of it. We can probably talk to him. One of us maybe distract him, make sure everyone else gets away ... or smack him from behind."
"Distract...hmm...I might be able to do something. Especially if someone answers him to keep him quiet..." David stayed low, checking his pockets for the trinkets he normally keeps around for small tricks, palming a card in one hand and a small mirror in the other and drawing them out while staying low to the ground with the others. Keeping an eye on Tingle while Tingle was looking up around for the sound of the approaching Sirens.
David began gesturing in archaic fashions on the ground, the mirror being moved to point at a couple of students at the edge of the group, chanting as low as he was able as unlike usual he was trying not to get Tingle's attention. Mere moments later, there were an extra two students, seeming to be copies of the two he had been 'mirroring' there as he remained low, keeping his eyes on Tingle.
As Tingle's attention shifted back to the students, the two 'new' students got up and tried to make a run for it past tingle through the open wall, both heading down into the school noisely yelling for help.
Dracos
OOC:
Power Skill: Magic, Roll Needed: 16-
[12:18] <Dracos> roll 3d6
[12:18] * Hatbot --> "Dracos rolls 3d6 and gets 10." [3d6=3, 3, 4]
Pass by 6. Using "Images" Sight and Sound to replicate two students getting up and running off, full sense groups affected.
OOC: Simon and William both see all of this, from David casting the spell to the illusions of the two kids appearing. If you want to write your reaction, please do so now -- feel free to write Tingle's actions if appropriate (though I may edit, of course). If neither Brian nor Hal post in the next twenty-four hours or so, this post will change to an IC post.
William blinks, and then stares at the illusory kids who made for the exit. The tea-- err.... The supervillain gawped and trembled with rage. "You will be respecting the Tingly Might!" he exclaimed.
Shaking his head, William tries to remember. Did they actually form a plan, or did the phantom kids just pop up? Well, not much for it. Once their foe's back is turned, William starts trying to gesture people out behind the enraged teacher, prepared to start yelling if further distractions become neccesary.
David stands slowly, keeping focused on maintaining the illusions distracting as long as possible and moving with the rest out of the room.
Dracos
Simon nodded to the other two as they made their exit with the rest of the kids, determined to hold up the rear.
"Detentions!" Tingle shrieks, hopping futilely from foot to foot, his attention focussed entirely on David's illusions. "Detentions! Get back! Or I will be... wait, yes, I can be doing more than the detentions! I am with the forgetting of this. This is the mighty hand of Tingle!"
Blindingly white, a bolt leaps out of Tingle's amulet, arcing and twisting through the air until it cuts right through David's illusions -- and keeps on going.
"No!" gasps Tingle, and he turns. His eyes widen as he sees the students escaping (only about a third have actually gotten out of the classroom at this point; the others have only just managed to get to their feet and start heading groggily to the door), and he sputters incoherently.
"Run!" Simon shouted. With a grimace, he turned towards the teacher-turned-villain, focusing on the computers on either side of 'Tingle' and willing their complete destruction. Come on, this had better work...!
David moved swiftly, trying to get out with his peers now that the illusions had failed, not really desiring to get into a fight with a moron tossing bolts with the police so near.
Dracos
Any questions that the lessons learned in school might not hold significance in real life are laid to rest for Simon, as he learns that his power is influenced by his emotional state. The urgency of his command causes the computers he targets to leap to obey, exploding in the smoking and shrapnel-producing way that only an over-driven CRT can accomplish.
Not to be left out, the computers in the rest of the lab join in.
And, with only a second's hesitation, so does, apparently, every other electrical device attached to the school's power grid.
Through the sudden, smoke-filled darkness, laden with the ozone stench of incipient electrical fires, you can hear, faintly. "Oh, the Mighty Tingle does not know his own might!"
David stared a bit briefly at the destruction wrought, a slight 'woah' escaping his lips before he moved to grab Simon and drag him quickly towards the exit from the smoke filled room. Hopefully those closing sirens would blame this all on Tingle and they could get out of here.
Assuming the nearby thuds of Tingle's heavy feet didn't merit him catching them first.
David hurriedly moved to get the two of them out of the building, hoping the smoke would cover them both escaping and breaking off from the crowd.
Dracos
Simon just allowed himself to be dragged, his feet jogging along behind David of their own accord - certainly not under any instructions from his brain.
No way... I just did all THAT? I mean, I thought it might do something, but GEEZ...
The sirens have gotten louder, and you can hear what sounds like someone on a loudspeaker, though the words are muffled by the walls.
The walls and the crowd around you, that is. Panicking students streaming for the nearest exit are noisy -- perhaps not suprisingly. But you know, you always sort of thought that in chaotic situations like this, it was supposed to feel like there were more people, not less...
"Wait!" William gasps, tugging at David's sleeve to slow him. "Barry! Barry's still back there!"
"What, who?" David turned a bit surprised at William, glancing back quickly down the path they had come from.
Dracos
"Barry!" William repeats, a little more urgently. "He's on the football team, he's a nice guy... he's the one Mr. Una was threatening! We... I... gotta do something!"
Simon remembers Barry -- a quiet linebacker, suprisingly good at mathematics.
"Geh..." David quickly looked around for anyone who could help. "Let's go, hurry. Come on." He grabbed William's arm a bit and headed back, looking quickly for the guy in hopes of finding him and getting out while the getting ways good.
Dracos
Simon shakes his head a bit to clear it. "Huh... wh... Barry's still in there? Aww man..."
Squinting a bit against the acrid smoke coming from the ruined computers, he waves his hand in front of his face and heads back into the room, taking station behind David as they returned to the scene of the destruction.
With some care, you manage to sneak back to the classroom. Peeking through the door, it's clear that the scene is indeed one of devastation. Sunlight pours in through an exploded outer wall, and the dust mixes with the still-lingering smoke. Standing in the hole, shouting out something at the police below, is Tingle, who clutches the arm of one of his hostages, shaking her for emphasis.
There are, in fact, several students still left -- the girl Tingle is holding, two more girls huddling behind an over-turned desk, and beside them is Barry. And since he's a football player, and not a gymnast, you're pretty sure his leg shouldn't be pointing that way.
Sliding forward on his belly to try and catch up with David and the clearly reluctant William, Simon almost panics when he feels his hand brush against something small and metallic. Instinctively snatching it to keep it from making noise, he realizes he's holding a bullet -- in fired, yet perfect condition.
Edit:
Quote
05:08 PM <Bjorn> Drac! Hal!
05:08 PM <Halbarad> Mrf?
05:08 PM <Bjorn> Roll Perception.
05:08 PM <Bjorn> Which is 3d6.
05:10 PM <Halbarad> 3d6
05:10 PM <Hatbot> ACTION --> "Halbarad rolls 3d6 and gets 8." [3d6=3, 4, 1]
05:12 PM <Dracos> roll 3d6
05:12 PM <Hatbot> ACTION --> "Dracos rolls 3d6 and gets 14." [3d6=2, 6, 6]
05:12 PM <Dracos> I see smoke!
05:13 PM <Bjorn> Dracos gets no roll, for he is *late*.
05:13 PM <Bjorn> :P
"Eeeh." David whispered, trying to come up with an idea, while hanging back behind the wall, hoping Tingle didn't notice them. "Okay... any plans? That's more there than I could snatch, even if we distracted him, maybe if...we lead him around back, and then to the police? Hopefully not getting lightning bolted?"
Dracos
Simon grimaces. "Let me think..."
After a few moments, he nods, frowning still. "We've got to keep Mr. Una occupied completely, 'cause I bet it's going to take both of us to get the rest of the others out of here. No way Barry's going to be walking by himself with that leg - " a wince here " - and everyone else is going to need some help - most of them look like they're pretty stunned.
"I'm wondering, though... you saw his amulet, right? I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure that's where his powers are coming from. If I distract him, you think you could get it away from him?"
David thought, tapping his chin and glancing around. "I could try. I don't really have many of my tools here...harder to fool the eye without a cape..." He shuffled through various nicknacks in his hand, almost nervously. "Yeah, I think I could yank it off him. Either way...I think I could probably get away if I don't."
He stood back, slipping a card into one hand and a mirror into the other as he chanted, seeming to focus carefully as he gestured. A few moments and nothing seemed to happen. "Okay, ready. I'll dash out and distract him, and you get the guy away?"
Dracos
OOC:
David has just gone invisible and is projecting an image of himself where he's standing. He intends to use it to distract while he gets up close and tries to yank or slip off the medallion.
Letting David drop from his mind, Simon focuses on his own task. He palms the fired bullet, deciding to save it as his 'ace in the hole'. A quick search of the room doesn't take long to turn up a crumpled and dirty piece of paper; with a grimace of distaste, he rips off a corner, places it in his mouth, and chews...
*THWAP*
The resounding smack of the spitball landing dead center on the back of 'Tingle's' head would be one that Simon would remember for a long time. The teacher's ears shaded to crimson as he turned...
David, meanwhile, slips behind Tingle, looking for a latch or anything on the chain with the amulet that could be yanked and broken or just unlatched prior to yanking off.
Dracos