<strong>Name:</strong>Octavia Lavinia<br/><strong>Match No:</strong>1<br/><strong>HP:</strong>31<br/><strong>Current armor:</strong>0<br/><br/><strong>Stunts in play:</strong>None<br/><strong>Flaws in play:</strong>Mercy of the crowd<br/><strong>Directing damage at:</strong>Mark V body<br/><strong>Damage roll:</strong>At 2019-12-14 14:10:58, Octavia Lavinia (uid: 58954) rolls: 2d6k-1m-2 Result: 2 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=142171)<br/><hr/><br/>Octavia tried to control her breath, feeling her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment while the lesser beings in the audience gawked at her exposed skin. She heard herself whimper, but it was thankfully too quiet for the crowd to hear. She weighed her options.<br/><br/>But it was the cheers of the dark elves that pushed her over the edge. Her analytical mind faded and her rage began to take over. She began swinging in the arm's grip. The shot would be nearly impossible, but she was in no mood to calculate the odds. Her hands, though clasped above her, still held her pistol. She swung harder, kicking her feet, only mildly aware of the way the motion made her breasts sway for the crowd.<br/><br/>She twisted and contorted her body, tilting the gun downward. She had no hope of angling it in such a way that she could hit one of the arms, but the body was a big enough target.  With one final jerk, she aimed as well as she could and shot.