[ Owen shoots the pink-haired bandit girl with no remorse, the explosion leaving her a ragdoll tumbling across the field. The 'twink boy' she'd been insulting earlier nervously glances at Owen, but thinks better than to stick around too long though he still, regardless, hears a 'th-thank you...!' thrown his way.
As for Nuwa, I rolled her a 17, so the man stops before being impaled on the blade, grabbing the gun by its barrel and yanking it out of her hand -- throwing it across somewhere else, whether to be forgotten or picked up later, time will tell. Defenseless, he thinks of her, and it'll be easy to beat her into a pulp, at least until the length of the whip wraps around his neck. He's pulled, and he doesn't immediately fall, standing his ground, but his hands come up to attempt to pull at the whip wrapped around his throat in an impromptu tug-of-war with Nuwa.
The noise and din is still going on, the audience loves it. It seems the maybe-host-guy has taken hobby to recapping out everything that's going on, very much like a sports announcer. ]
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As for Nuwa, I rolled her a 17, so the man stops before being impaled on the blade, grabbing the gun by its barrel and yanking it out of her hand -- throwing it across somewhere else, whether to be forgotten or picked up later, time will tell. Defenseless, he thinks of her, and it'll be easy to beat her into a pulp, at least until the length of the whip wraps around his neck. He's pulled, and he doesn't immediately fall, standing his ground, but his hands come up to attempt to pull at the whip wrapped around his throat in an impromptu tug-of-war with Nuwa.
The noise and din is still going on, the audience loves it. It seems the maybe-host-guy has taken hobby to recapping out everything that's going on, very much like a sports announcer. ]