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[color=00a99d]"No chance, buddy!"[/color]

Before the masked figure's fingers could close around the molded grip of the pistol, before their fingertips could brush against the textured plastic, Selma burst into action. There wasn't much distance between her and Captain Wei to begin with, and with her long stride it was all but child's play to intercept her foe, kicking the gun clear and swinging for the fences with her Improvised Bludgeon of Continued Study. Even as the pistol skidded along a few more feet, the backpack's ominous whirl had terminated into an upward arc akin to that of a golf swing or tossed stone, rocketing up into the mask of the figure with all that built momentum behind it.

With it bending down, it only made sense to attack where it was trying to go— you create a bigger collision that way. With all her leverage and strength behind the swing, Selma was sure that this collision in particular would be pretty big— but would it be enough? That, she didn't know, and didn't wanna bet on. Most people could probably take a swing or two from her using this before going down, so when it came to these jerks who could very well have walked right through that first attack that had dazed them, for all she knew...

[color=00a99d][i]First thing's first, I gotta make sure this thing can't hurt Captain Wei! Gotta get it away somehow![/i][/color]

Their escort had still been stunned when she'd rose and fired her first shot into one of them, and now she was down again. If she'd hit her head on the way, that could have been her completely out. Tile was no joke, and Selma knew enough about striking the earth to know that there were right ways and wrong ways to go about it. Skull against stone? Obviously wrong. Could seriously injure yourself doing that.

... Or.

You could really give something [i]else[/i] the business.

Immediately, she swung again, a plan already formed in her head. She just needed to get this guy stood up, even just a little. So long as his posture was A) off of the Captain and B) slightly raised, she could do something a little more [i]permanent[/i] than swinging around a sack of books.

The first strike had been enough to halt the masked figure's advance, and the second convinced it to give up on the "be in a good spot to get uppercut by a teenager's belongings" idea. It rose, hands still outstretched to intercept a third blast from below. It came soon after, sure enough— but this time, there was no driving force behind it beyond simple momentum. No swinging arm, twisting hips, or wrenching torso to carry it through, just one final and distracting moment of contact as the backpack left her grasp, forcing it that extra little [i]bit[/i] higher.

[color=00a99d][i]Perrrrrfect.[/i][/color]

It then felt a pair of arms suddenly clamp down upon its waist like an industrial vise as the big girl swept around behind it, locking her hands together in a palm-to-palm grip. Part of being in a big, working-class family was big, working-class scuffles with big, working-class siblings. In the low light, young Rosmarie's face was almost as hidden from the world as those behind the masks these things wore, but there was no mistaking the sound of a grunt and a laugh escaping her maw. She'd had to learn an evil thing or two to keep up. And since this thing was even taller than she was, she had [i]just the one.[/i]

She dropped her weight low, center of gravity dipping beneath that of her prey as she stepped one leg over to the side, outside of theirs and physically blocking any attempts at regaining balance. Her arms pressed inward, disallowing any room to swim under and bringing the lock tight against her own hips as she drove them into its leg, below its balance.

And then she arched skyward and twisted, carrying it clear over her head and back down onto the hard, unforgiving floor. Their combined weights met that of the world with a thunderous crash as she dropped herself into it atop the masked assailant, aiming to hit the ground with him as hard as she could.

Really, what kind of German would she [i]be[/i] if she couldn't pull off a suplex, anyway?