Round two.

When the balls started flying, John dove for the first one he saw. He managed to grab a blue one and hurl it back at one of Frank's friends... only for it to be caught. John felt something hit him from the side and knew he was down for the round. Once he'd extracted himself from the melee and settled into the stands he started to think. With everything he'd acquired since the morning, maybe it was possible to win a round...

Round three: eliminated twenty-six seconds after the whistle.

Round four: managed to score a hit on one of the lesser athletes, who promptly ignored it.

Round five: survived until he was the third to last player on blue team.

Round six: eliminated instantly after the whistle thanks to Frank.

During the last break, John seethed. Despite his Evasion and stat improvements, it seemed he was still fated to suffer a humiliating loss at the hands of his bully. Frank's red team had taken every round, and John wanted desperately to win at least once. That or hit Frank right in the middle of his moronic face, he'd settle for the satisfaction of knocking the bully out of a round.

At the very least, he hadn't suffered any more relapses, and that momentary flashback seemed to have been the last one. It still worried him that it had happened at all... but it was promising that he seemed over it now. Deep in thought, John filled a paper cup at the water cooler and downed the meager amount of fluid in one go. It was refreshingly chilly, and he easily finished half a dozen more cups. Precious seconds ticked away as he rehydrated and all too soon it was cut short by the coach's impatient yapping.

"Newman, get back over here! Its time for the final showdown!"

John crumpled the flimsy cup and threw it away, indulging in a little drama as he imagined the cup was Frank's windpipe.

You have failed me for the last time Mr. Dickinson.

The coach barked another insistent demand, and John trudged back into the arena, his annoyance increasing as everyone stared at him. It wasn't long lasting, with the students turning back to look at their teacher. Everyone except for Frank, who just grinned stupidly at John.

"Alright, alright. For this one I want to see some real carnage, no holding back now! Three..."

John took a deep breath and looked from the bag of balls in the coach's hands to the ugly face of his target.

"Two..."

Last chance.

"One..."

The very first ball thrown came flying through the air at him, courtesy of one Frank Dickinson Junior. It narrowly missed as he ducked underneath it and dove for the closest one. The moment he picked it up, John turned to deflect the new ball incoming from the goon squad. Rebounding off the surface of his, it ricocheted back across the line and into the side of a member of the red team.

John had no time to savor the elimination as Frank and his friends stepped up their attack. Two more balls were blocked and a third dodged with a sidestep before he returned fire. This time, John caught one of the football players off guard and hit him as he reached down to pick up a ball. Two down, he was **** back into dodging a new salvo.

The first went wide, but the second bounced off his shoulder, and John dove for it to catch the ball before it hit the floor. He managed to grab it in one hand and immediately threw himself into a spin and let it fly at the first member of the red team he saw.

Frank grunted as he felt something bounce off his chest, arm stretched back to hurl at another scampering weakling. He looked down in disbelief at the ball that settled at his feet, then up into the eyes of that nerd, John fucking Newman. Pure, uncontained rage burned an incandescent red in his vision.

John watched as his bully realized he'd been hit... and then, instead of moving to the sidelines, changed the target of his throw to him. It tore through the air, fast enough to be faintly audible, but John held his ground.

-8 hp.

His chest hurt, as though he'd been hit by a hammer, but John grinned as he held out the caught ball. It looked like Frank was halfway between strangling him right there and collapsing from a stroke; one of his friends actually had to drag him away. The three remaining members of the red team looked from him and back to John and the scraps of blue team, visibly shaken.

"What are you all standing around for? Fight!" The coach's fury at his entertainment coming to a sudden stop galvanized the remaining players back into action, and the balls began flying again.

Despite his best efforts, John wasn't able to last the rest of the round, and red team claimed the victory... but it was the closest game they'd had all year. The blue team were all smiles, while the winners were sullen and grumpy. It hadn't been John's play alone that pushed them closer to victory, but he'd bolstered the respect that his teammates held for him with it. Most had gained between ten and fifteen points on their relationship meters, although he'd lost as many points with the enemy team. It wasn't a huge loss. His scores with the athletes were abysmal, and John would rather have the company of a few other nerds over Frank and his buddies any day.

The coach pulled over the winning team to congratulate them and John decided that was his chance to make an escape. He ducked through the archway of the arena and looked back to catch Frank giving him an angry scowl, pushing him to move a bit faster out of the gym. It dawned on John that he'd need to think up something to deal with the bully outside of a class environment before their next encounter. As if in response, the moment he crossed the threshold of the gym three new popups blinked into view.

Event Cleared!
Dodgeball
Rank: E
Experience Gained: 46

Spell Learned: Riposte ~ 1
Turn an enemy's attack back on themselves, dealing 10% extra damage against enemies at least one size class larger. Only castable after dodging, blocking or parrying a melee attack. Base damage may not exceed 200% of your average damage.
Cost: Variable - 15 mp
(Domain: Martial)

Skill Rank Increased: Evasion ~ 1 -> 2
Chance to dodge attacks increased.

The class had counted as some sort of encounter and rewarded him with a decent bounty of experience. It had also graded him on his performance, and, though he chafed a bit at the low rank, he hadn't exactly been a star player. The satisfaction of eliminating Frank in the last round would have to be enough icing on the experiential cake. Besides, he had a new skill!

John kept the Riposte window open as he walked to class, and it stayed comfortably in view. The ability had tremendous potential, even though it was severely limited by the use condition. He wondered what a 'size class' constituted; would Frank's hundred extra pounds be enough, or did he need to fight a giant to get the bonus damage? Not for the first time, John really wished he had a guidebook to the Game.

Regardless, he still had one more class to attend before the day was over. Hopefully it would involve less fighting, dodgeball had taken a huge chunk out of his hp.