Quote:
Snow Strike (11) : While out, a sudden snowball smacks you squarely--then another, and another--launched with uncanny accuracy from nowhere you can pinpoint. Whether it’s one unseen assailant or an entire invisible team, the barrage is definitely targeted, and attempting to throw snowballs back or defend yourself only seems to escalate the attack. Sometimes the snowy onslaught will follow you if you run; other times, stepping past a certain point makes it abruptly stop, as if whatever’s behind it has lost interest. No matter how intense it gets, the bombardment always dwindles after a few moments, leaving you cold, dusted in snow, and wondering who--or what--decided you were the perfect target for winter mischief.
He noticed a while ago that the med kits were being used, and even more shockingly they were being refilled or just up and replaced. Tortuga had been doing this for a while, and while they had been used before, he had never encountered the kits being restocked by anyone other than himself as far as he could tell. But this time he could. The brands were different, instead of generic bandages it was actually medical grade Band-Aids. Just as good or even slightly better but different then what he got. The way the little kits were packed were different, there were even a few things that he had never put into them like the tampons. Useful for bullet wounds, Tortuga had just never really though of adding them to the kits. They were in slightly different bags, or slightly shifted. More than just simple gravity or other natural ways the kits could have moved. Someone was going around and resetting the med kits, and he wanted to shake their hand.
It was nice to know that there was at least one other fighter who saw the benefit of the kits and wanted to make sure those that needed them could. It also meant that Tortuga himself wasn’t stretching his already meager budget even thinner. The redheaded squire slipped into the dead end of an alleyway and stretched out his arm behind some piping after trying to shove a rather full dumpster out from the wall but only partially succeeding. He absently wished to actually meet up with the other ‘kit maker’ so they could coordinate something. A schedule or a plan or something so he didn’t have to worry about checking kits already fixed or knew which ones needed moving. Like this particular one.
It was originally behind the pipes that were at the corner of two buildings at the end of the alley, tucked just above the brackets securing the pipes to the wall, the small black bag blending in against the grungy brick. It had been relatively easy to reach but either the building’s owner got a new dumpster or the city was just crap when dealing with the giant metal trash containers but now a dumpster called the alley home, and made reaching the med kit a real headache. The dumpster blocked access from the side, and from above, since the dumpster was taller than the bracket location, so that meant moving the monster trashcan out from the wall and squeezing behind it as best he could to get the kit out without gagging over the smell.
The squire wiggled his way a bit closer, his nose already blind to the horrid stench surrounding him, and finally felt the edge of the bag with the very tips of his fingers. A little more and he might be able to snag the kit. He was nearly there, could even feel the bag move when he bent his fingers, when the aura of chaos had him freeze and curse at the same time. Tortuga wasn’t exactly in a position to fight, or even flee, since he was literally between a ‘rock’ and a hard place. The dumpster was massively heavy, and had to be absolutely full, and there was no moving the brick pressing into his back. He was well and truly pinned and all the squire could do was hope the weaker chaos signature didn't see him, and chose to keep moving rather than tangle with a stronger order aura.
Amasis
