Another late night at the office, staying after closing to finish reports for Theodore for a big meeting later in the week. Brenda is the last one out and has to lock up the administrative section of the bank - the bank itself is on separate locks and security that even the Marchants don't have direct access to.
The air is chilly, a slight breeze blowing as she steps out into the darkened parking lot. The moon is almost full overhead. Hard to believe that Spring Break is almost upon the town once again.
Brenda has spent all day in the office and yet, somehow, looks almost fresh as a daisy because she's smart enough to keep a steamer in her office. It's the little things that keep one ahead in life. Her earpiece is in and tiredly she's leaving more memos, "Make appointment for thursday 2:30 to review Daughtry's loan application." Her keys to her Audi are out, and her heels clack on the concrete of the parking garage heading to her perosnal parking space.
The breeze picks up a bit, and she hears something. A voice. Is it... laughter? It sounds like laughter, somewhere in the darkness.
Brenda pauses and narrows her eyes looking around. She hits another button on her phone. Annoyed, tired, and wanting to sort out a dinner reservation for him to be aware of she pushes the button on her Blackberry (The Assistant's assistant!) "Pickup pickup pickup I ahve flowers to order before they close." Her focus is on her car and her dinner plans with her future family-in-law, let her tell you all about it. It rings without pick up right now but that is what voice mail is for.
ROLL: Brenda rolls brains+1 for: -- Match Value: 0 (Raw: 0 0 0 0 0 -- d)
ROLL: Brenda rolls 5d6 for: : x3 (Set) : x1 : x1 -- Match Value: 3 (Raw: 5 2 4 2 2 -- d6)
A strong gust goes right over her, but the trees aren't moving any more than they had been. Did something just fly over her? Up above, the moon looms and thousands of stars can be seen in the sky like you only get when you're away from big cities. It's one of the best parts of life in Havasu, the night sky.
Not normally in that sky?
Flying young people. There are three, females, all late teens to early twenties, flying in the air above her, faces twisted into something feral and monstrous with sharp fangs. They laugh and swoop down after her.
And that's what a briefcase is for. This is the 90's and no one told these young people that both adherance to gravity and good skin care is important. Also? Not her problem. She runs phone in hand not taking the time to leave the voicemail. She plays enough chess to know when a piece is sliding into check. The voicemail picks up, but she's running and not talking into it. The question is can she get to her car first before these grubby little flying deductables make a dash for her.
ROLL: Brenda rolls 4d8 for: : x1 : x1 : x1 : x1 -- Match Value: 0 (Raw: 1 2 7 8 -- d8)
The laughing gets louder, and one of the freaks, with wild dark hair, huge eyes and an even bigger grin swoops down and knocks Brenda over, sending her sprawling on the blacktop. All three laugh more at this.
ROLL: Brenda rolls 4d8 for: : x2 (Pair) : x1 : x1 -- Match Value: 1 (Raw: 5 1 3 1 -- d8)
Brenda skids to the pavement; palm scraping against the concrete knee hitting down and briefcase sliiiiiding. The amusement ringing in her ears, but Brenda Lang is not one to curl in a ball. If she was she wouldn't have been placed where she is in life. Her hand goes into her purse, turns, and sprays mace at the woman in front of her trying to get back to her car. "Lady get out of my way. I got shit to do!"
The wild-haired, wild-eyed woman lifts a hand a second too late, getting a facefull of mace. She veers off and away with a scream of anger and pain. The other two see this, however, and swoop in from different angles. Brenda can't spray both of them.
ROLL: Brenda rolls 4d8 for: : x1 : x2 (Pair) : x1 -- Match Value: 1 (Raw: 7 1 3 3 -- d8)
Brenda doesn't know what's going on, and frankly? There's time to panic later. Right now the car promises some sort of safety, a barrier, or at least a door with locks. The obstacle in front of her starts grabbing her face and creates an opening. Tactical move: Slide forward and try not to get flanked. The mace creates a haze where she anticipates her assailant coming in, her other hand grabbing for her car door.
That's the problem with there being two of them - she can really only target one. The blonde monster gets held at bay by the mace, Brenda's plan letting her get within reach of the car door, but the long and lanky one with a black wedge cut grabs her from the other side. Brenda's fingers grip the car door handle just long enough to give her hope, a chance for escape, and then her fingers slip free and she's being yanked up and into the sky. The ground below gets rapidly far away as she's carried off into the night, screaming.