You're searching one of those abandoned buildings right now. So you're not particularly into professional sports, right Brainstorm? Not your vibe. You know that Aristeia! is an anything-goes kind of sport, a battle of supers overseen by highly advanced medical drones and safety features - exactly the sort of thing that'd show up in a school full of rich kids looking to show off their custom augs and high fashion. In fact, it's just occurred to you that they represent the largest concentration of force in this entire building, and if you can get them on side you'll have all the force you need to directly confront Spiral...
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," says Angel-IKA's voice from what feels like everywhere. "WELCOME TO THE HEXADROME!"
oh no.
"I'm Angel-IKA, with me is Locker, and strap yourselves in for the best night of high school Aristeia! that I am, um, not participating in directly!"
"In my opinion you were robbed, Angel-IKA," said Locker's voice.
"Kind of you to say, Locker, but today isn't about me. It's about them."
Two spotlights slam down, outlining two teams of four technicolour weirdos on both sides of you. This building isn't abandoned after all - it's the ring.
And before you have time to even think further there's a fucking samurai in your face. With a katana.
What would @SARAHPPHIM do?
"Hmm. Eight on one doesn't seem too fair." Then he sprints forward, and runs straight up and over the samurai--knee, groin, solar plexus, finish with a kickflip that sends the helmet soaring into the face of the bull coming in for a grab behind him. "Maybe try sixteen."
Then it's a melee. Samuwrong's on the ground, and the bull--eight feet tall, with horns--is none too happy with his black eye. Redirect his blows, don't try to absorb, that's Errant's trick. The one--looks like an angel, almost--rises on electric wings, calibrating for a shot, and he wishes he'd had more than half a second to determine which freaks were on which side, and that he could go all out without fear of A) unmasking himself or B) actually seriously injuring someone. I mean, medical bots are on standby, so really, B) is a nonissue, but he can feel the gaze of dozens of cameras, from every angle.
Surviving. Surviving is good.
"So!" he shouts, dodging the angel's cannon blasts, "it feels like y'all have some pent-up aggression issues. Anyone want to join me after the match for some good-old-fashioned villain punch-ups?"
[Directly engage: 9. Dismay or Impress.]