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You take out spent casings with one hand and motion with another. The Agent wrestles her hostage over, visibly struggling even with a size advantage. The security team moves forward.
"Say," she whispers. There's a trace of suspicion in her voice now and even then it sends shudders down your carapace. "Weren't you supposed to have a partner in crime?"
"Relax, baby," you mutter. You can't help yourself. "It's just the two of us now, everything's alright. There's always time for fun. It's Friday night. What's your name?"
"Oh? Who the HELL are you supposed to be! You're not my backup at all!"
"O-Oh. S-Sorry. I'm L-Lead, and—"
Then she stabs you in the face with her second knife.
<span class="mu-r">-COMPOSURE</span>
COMPOSURE: 1/2
It's only a surface cut. But there's hemolymph running down your face. And there's pain now, biting and hot, the first time you've been hurt this entire evening. You grab a hold of it. The haze of chemical fumes and pheromones burns away from your mind.
<span class="mu-g">A sense of clarity washes over you.</span>
With a clear head comes clear thoughts. You feel fucking embarrassed for letting another Agent get the drop on you. You're disgusted with yourself for being weak. You're madly in anger with her for making you feel this way.
You want to hurt her. You want <span class="mu-i">her.</span>
You sense some dipshit point man trying to flank, so you quickly load in a round and punch a hole in his head. The other Agent takes advantage of the distraction, but you grab the edge of her coat before she skitters away. You point the barrel of Big Iron to her head.
Whether at the hands of the C Company guards, the strange fruit experiments, or your own, <span class="mu-b">she's definitely not going to make it out alive if she tries to fly off on her own.</span>
"Follow me if you want to live, girlie," you growl as you always do. "Stick with me, we both get what we want. Reinforcements are coming and that dinky butter knife just isn't going to cut it. So what's it going to be then, eh?"
She hesitates. The site director starts struggling even harder.
"Not like I have any choice here," she mutters darkly. "But I can't say I prefer the alternative. Fine then."
She spreads her wings once and a very spicy scent fills the air. <span class="mu-g">You're brimming with vigor!</span>
"And my name is Miss Director, just so you know~"
You slam four more long steel rounds into the hungry chambers of Big Iron. The gun is in your hand. Everything is making sense again. Now all you have to do is take control.
DC: 35
>[FORCE] Roll d6. The first SIX rolls will be counted towards the tally. (+2d6 from Miss Director's Frenzy Pheromones.)
>Burn any traits or equipment?
How do you want to do this?
>Killing is the tool. Make them pay for every inch. Make them too scared to approach. This should buy Miss Director time to escape and you time to get to the target.
>Grab the hostage from her and advance. If he's as valuable as she says, those guards are going to fold when you go all in.
>Write in.
