Spoiler: Menu
Health: 150/150
Mana: 33/80
Strength: 18
Dexterity: 13
Vitality: 15
Magic: 8
Skills:
[Gamer] Level: N/A
Quantify your existence using magic.
Spoiler: Passive Skills
[Running] Level: 10, 33% XP
Your ability to run. Passive.
[Regeneration] Level: 5, 92% XP
Your ability to heal wounds. Passive.
[Resistance] Level: 1, 5% XP
Your ability to resist damage. Passive.Spoiler: Active Skills
[Power] Level: 3, 17% XP
Amplify your strength using magic. Active.
[Heal] Level: 3, 12% XP
Heal wounds using magic. Active.
[Gravity] Level: 3, 6% XP
Create gravity using magic. Active.Hehehehehe. Oh, I'm going to have a lot of fun with this. Let's see, let's put inventory into a drop down too. Sort those items, sort skills alphabetically, rename this, rename that... Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Now for the cherry on top. I summon my menu, dismiss it, summon it, dismiss it... until eventually, I crack the code. I grab a mana strand from my heart, condense it as much as possible, and send it to my eyes.
Thank god! I can finally open my menu without speaking! I feel a stupid grin spread across my face. Oh, this is amazing. My mana may not be as dense, and it might cost more mana to open it, but I don't care. I did it.
As I'm intoxicated with the euphoria of my achievement, I hear gunfire off in the distance. Of course, my good times had to end abruptly and violently. Figures. The gunshots continue to ring out, burst by burst, until they're briefly cut short by a massive crash. They start back up soon enough, and I have to duck inside my ship as they make their way closer to me. A bullet even strikes the hull of the ship, rattling the whole thing and making yet another hole I have to fix. After another minute of bullets flying around, it all stops and I feel confident peeking my head out to see what the hell is going on. And I wish I hadn't. On the ground not even a hundred feet away from me are a bunch of disheveled goons wearing rags in various states of disrepair. Merchants maybe? Or just homeless people? I don't have time to think too far into it as my attention is grabbed by the object floating down from the sky above them. No, not an object. A girl, facing away from me. A blonde girl wearing a pure white dress with a flowing cape, and a shining golden tiara that I can just barely see from the angle I'm at.
Why, exactly, is Glory Girl here?! I thought the boat graveyard was supposed to be empty! It's a fucking Wednesday, at like 10 AM! Does she not have school? She's binding zip-ties around their hands, and from what I can see, they all look absolutely terrified. Is she blasting her aura at them? God, I forgot she had that. I really don't want to know what it's like to be near her when she's doing that. She finishes 'cuffing' the last goon on the ground, and stands back up, reaching into her skirt to pull out a phone. I can't hear exactly what she's saying, but I hear fragments of 'homeless', 'guns', and 'drugs'. Did she just stumble into a drug deal or something, and they fought back? But why would she be near the boat graveyard at all, especially at this time of day? As curious as I am, I don't really want to go and talk to her...
She turns around to look at some goons behind her, and before I can duck my head back inside, we lock eyes. God damn it. She better not attack me, I swear if I get labelled as a villain because she's trigger happy... I'll write a very mean email to the PRT. Or her parents! I start pacing slowly behind the hull, hoping that she doesn't come over here and just finishes her business and leaves. But of course, before I can think of a plan to get out of here, who else floats down through a hole in the roof but Glory Girl. I came here to be alone! Not to deal with teenage girls!
Now that she's not a hundred feet away, I notice a lot more about her. Her white half-dress half-skirt is detailed with gold accents, running up and down her top and in a large band across her waist. It's honestly really well made, it doesn't look cheap at all and the different materials are blended together seamlessly. I look up, and her eyes are startlingly blue, slightly unnerving me as she stares back at me, but I think that's just my bias against blue eyes. Before I can notice anything else about her, she starts talking to me.
"What are you doing hiding in a ship? You don't look... entirely homeless." She bluntly asks as she looks me up and down. Rude. I don't think I look homeless at all, thank you very much.
"This is my house. Do heroes usually break and enter?" I retort, maybe a bit more caustically than I meant to. I see a glimpse of worry flash across her face, quickly replaced with her usual look of casual confidence. Probably an affectation, but she's damn good at it.
"You got a deed for this 'house'?" She pulls her hands up in air quotes when she says 'house'. I can't believe I'm being harassed in my own private domicile.
"Squatters rights. You often make fun of homeless people?" I raise an eyebrow at her. She responds with a half smile, half frown. Kind of impressive how she pulled that off.
"Nah, homeless people aren't usually kids with clean clothes. Steal those?" Once again called a kid, by a teenager multiple years younger than me. This is my life, huh. Sad.
"I bought them. I work at Fugly Bob's on the weekend. Don't you have something better to do than bother me?" I hope that white lie doesn't bite me in the ass later. She chuckles at me, but I notice her brows furrowing. Seems she doesn't believe me.
"Uh huh. I've never seen you around. Fugly Bob's is my favorite comfort food joint, think I'd remember seeing you at some point." She ignores my question as she stops hovering in the air, and lands. I don't like that she's getting closer to me.
"If you go there so often, then just ask Daniel next time you're there. My name's Jack, I work in the kitchen." I think my frustration is bleeding through, as she stops walking towards me. Thank god. Fortunately, it seems name dropping Daniel got me some credibility. Man, his name has saved me twice now. Who knew having connections was important.
"I'll do that. Guess I know where to find you, if you're lying. Doesn't explain why you're living in a shipwreck." She responds, an undercurrent of... something, running through her voice. Something between annoyance and humor, I think.
"I'm a cape. I didn't want to live with Daniel cause I don't want him to be in danger." Dropping that bombshell on people out of the blue is quickly becoming one of my favorite things to do, the looks of shock never get old. After her surprise, her brows scrunch up as she looks at me in a new light, her stance becoming more defensive. Damn, you'd think she'd realize I wasn't hostile by now.
"Let's say I believe you... just how new are you? You do know you're supposed to have a whole 'secret identity', right?" She asks. It's interesting that she seems to actually be worried about the 'unwritten rules'. But I guess she is a hero at the end of the day, despite her more emotional tendencies.
"I know. I just don't care. I plan on going unmasked anyways, it's so much more convenient." That got her attention. Another look of shock fades into confusion, then a small amount of anger, then worry with a smidge of interest.
"You don't just 'unmask'. Are you sure you want to do this? Far be it from me to discourage you, but it's not just about you. My family can get away with it because we're all capes, but even we've suffered losses because of it... You'll be putting your family and your friends in danger." She calmly explains to me. It's kind of heartwarming to see her looking out for me, in her own way.
"My family and friends are out of the picture. They can't come to any harm, trust me." I casually say, but I see her lips tighten and her eyes narrow. I think she's concerned? Or maybe she feels guilty for bringing it up? I can't really tell.
"Oh. Um. Well, in that case. I guess you're good? Umm... anyways, you are a hero, right?" She tries to segue, but it's painfully awkward, and we both know it. She grimaces when I chuckle at the display.
"Yes. I think. I'm trying to get a grasp on my powers before I go out and get myself killed, but after I do, I'm gonna at least try to be a hero." She visibly perks up when she hears that, her defensive edge fading into the giddy energy she had when she first entered.
"Oh, that's great! Oh my god, another unmasked hero. You don't know how happy my family will be. Oh! Here, have this." She bounces on her feet before she starts hovering, but I don't think she even notices. She reaches into her skirt again, pulling out a post-it note and floating over to a wall to scribble something on it. She flies back over to me, maybe a little too quickly as I can feel the air rush towards me and blow my unfortunately short hair back. Written on the note is a phone number, which I can only assume is hers. I take the note from her, but give her a blank stare as I do.
"I don't have a phone. And why do I need your phone number?" She grows more embarrassed with every word, and is about to retort when police sirens start to fade in from the distance. She glances towards where she left the men on the ground, then looks back at me before replying.
"Uh, shit, I don't know. You should really get a phone. Look, just find a way to give me a call if something happens. Us unmasked heroes have to stick together. Anyways, that's my cue, I gotta go." She rushes her sentence out, and takes off into the sky through the hole she entered, knocking off a loose panel on the way. The last thing I see of her is a quick apologetic glance. After a few seconds, I hear a thud outside from her landing on sand, presumably to talk to the officers that showed up.
What the hell was that? Is she always so... I don't even know how to describe her. But, at the very least, the conversation went well. I wasn't attacked, which is a huge plus. And I got an inroad with one of the more powerful groups in the city. And made a good impression - I think - on Glory Girl. Actually, thinking about it again, that was a pretty good encounter, all things considered. I put the note in my inventory, and resolve myself to get a phone at some point. I'll need one anyways, if I'm going into the hero business.
What was I doing again? Something with my mana, I know that. Right, I got my menu to work without me having to vocalize it. What else do I have to do today? I made my skills, tested my menu, ran a bit... I guess the only thing left is to work out. I move to get back to the grind, but I'm swiftly interrupted by my stomach imitating a whale call. Fuck. Why does everything keep getting in the way of my self improvement? I don't want to have to run all the way out to the Market... actually...
I stick my arm out, palm up, and summon one of the kebabs I forgot were in my inventory. It plops out with a displacement of air, and I catch it. Still warm. Hell yeah.
I can't help but wonder about the implications of that as I eat the still delicious kebab. If my inventory keeps temperature, does time pass inside it? The very tasty evidence points to no being the answer. I can think of more than a few ways to abuse that. Storing bombs that are about to detonate, for one. Can I store living things? I don't see any bugs around, so I'll have to test that at a later date. Thinking back, I don't think I ever tested the actual limits of my inventory. How much weight can it store at once? Does it have a size limit? Can I store things I'm not touching? I quickly scarf down the rest of my kebab, and throw the empty stick into the ground in front of me. I focus my mana, create a line out of my body to touch the skewer, and try to call it into my inventory. It doesn't budge. That's fine. I touch it and put it in my inventory the normal way, and move on. I try to store the ship I've made my home, to no avail. So the limit is somewhere between a large metal plate and an entire ship. Good to know. I consider leaving the ship to find bigger things to try and store, but I decide against it. Glory Girl might still be out there. Instead, I want to try something new. Can I put clothes on from inside my inventory? Quickly switching outfits would be very useful.
I store my shirt, which is easy. I create a mana strand inside my chest, and try to summon it back out, but nothing happens. Guess I can't summon something inside an object, good to know. I position the exit point a foot away from me, and summon my shirt to see what shape it's summoned in. Interestingly, it comes out vaguely shaped like me. Does that mean that the shape of the object gets stored as well when I put it in my inventory? That's useful. I grab my shirt from the ground and wave it around a bit to get all the sand off of it before wearing it once more. I put it in my inventory, and just try to take it back out without repositioning the exit point. I keep my arms in the same spot and I don't move my torso, and it plops back onto my chest the same way it was when I stored it. Guess I tried to make it too complicated.
I spend a minute storing and summoning my shirt over and over. Turns out that if I contort too much between me storing it and summoning it, it won't come out at all until I move back to the same position I was in. Does that mean there's an actual need for me to do poses to change outfits? Like I'm a discount magical girl? God damn it. Whatever. Another weird mechanic to chalk up to my system being the way it is.
Okay, I've gotten all the testing out of my system. I summon my metal block, summon my ropes, jerry rig everything onto me, check my mana reserves, and hype myself up.
The only thing to do now... is grind.I heave the amalgamation of metal above my head while I run, feeling the pressure increase as my [Gravity] makes it heavier. Breathe in, breathe out. I throw the hunk of metal off of me before letting my arms drop from the sudden loss in weight. It lands with a muffled thud, kicking up a cloud of sand. Oh, it got in my eyes. Ow. I quickly wipe my eyes to get the debris out, blinking a few times to make sure.
I'm walking over to pick the scrap metal back up when my stomach intervenes. Why am I hungry again, I just ate! Looking at the sky, my eyes widen as I see the horizon starting to darken. Oh, It's already this late? I must've lost track of time. Guess I should head to the Market to pick up some food before it closes. Sixteen dollars should be enough for tonight, right? I don't want to interrupt my grind, but I do need to eat, so I'll work tomorrow at Fugly Bob's to get some money. Ugh, I'm not looking forwards to working at a fast food place again.
I store the large clump of metal before taking a quick dip in the surprisingly clean pool of water on the far end of my ship to wash off all the blood on me. When I'm out, I do a pose and 'equip' my outfit. I had taken my clothes off after the second time I used [Gravity] on myself, turns out it affects everything when I make myself heavier, not just my muscles. As a result, my organs started blazing in pain as they were subject to an unhealthy amount of force dragging them down, and blood started to flow out of my pores. Not pleasant, but thankfully I stored my outfit quickly enough to save the clothes from undue gore. In good news though, it lets me level up [Regeneration], [Vitality], and [Resistance] all at the same time I'm working out. Call me Armsmaster the way I prioritize efficiency...
...that joke sucked. Anyways... I guide a dozen or so thin ropes of mana to my organs, pumping [Heal] through them to alleviate some of the soreness. Oh, that feels good. I don't have enough left in my reserves to fully heal, but the pain that's left is comfortable instead of distracting. Free of blood and feeling better, I jog out of my ship towards the Market. I can't sprint at my full speed in public anymore, because it's very obviously superhuman. I'd put it at about forty miles an hour, a massive step up from the pitiful speed I started with. I pass the area I fought Kevin and Devin at, but I see two of the pale yellow tents missing. Did they take their tents with them when they got arrested? ...Nah, they were probably just stolen. I doubt they had time to gather all their stuff before getting whisked away to the hospital.
I reach the Market in record time, slowing to a brisk walk as I enter. I know exactly where I'm going at this point, past the puppy seller, past the 8/25, past the guy selling Protectorate themed underwear... wait, hold on. I double back and take another look into that stall, trying to wrap my head around the dystopian imagery I'm seeing. Thankfully the underwear doesn't have their faces on it, instead being emblazoned with their iconography. A blue visor that can only be Armsmaster, a green and black wispy handgun for Miss Militia, even a circuit board pattern for Battery. What PR team gave the okay for this? They can't be making that much money off of themed underwear.
I move on before my blood pressure rises more than it already has. I don't bother looking at any of the other stalls as I beeline straight towards Asads Kebabs. I know I'm close when my nose picks up the scent of lamb, and my mouth starts watering. I round the corner to see the familiar tent and signpost, and enter the stall. It doesn't seem like he's being harassed today, thankfully. As our eyes meet, his expression starts to glow with warmth.
"Ah, my friend! Welcome back! Kofta again?" He gestures to a rack behind him, full of kofta kebabs. It looks like he's made more than yesterday, I wonder if that's because he was expecting me.
"You know me so well. Yes, seven of them, please." I can't help but grin at the way he lights up. He has to use both hands to collect all seven, but before he hands them to me, his face turns to a stern expression.
"I will not let you pay for these. I made them for you, you will take them. Okay?" He says seriously, but his eyes still have a twinkle in them. I chuckle and nod at him, causing his grin to come back once more. I show him that my hands are empty, and he gives me the skewers, watching me like a hawk as I walk out of the stall.
I wish I was there to see his expression when he finds sixteen dollars next to the kofta rack behind him, courtesy of me dropping them there with a mana strand.
Back at my ship, full and ready to continue, I bring out all my training 'gear'. The mountain of scrap metal I've bent, broken, and duct taped together is as glorious as it was when I last saw it. Looking through a hole in the roof, the sun is setting, so I'll only have a few more hours to eke out more levels until I'll have to sleep. Speaking of, I should be fine, right? Nobody other than Glory Girl knows I'm here, and I doubt she'd come rob me in the middle of the night. Really the only thing I need to worry about is someone coming in here to try and sleep, and putting my boulder of metal in front of the 'entrance' should be enough to stop that from happening.
There's no time to waste. I heave the ball of metal above me, and start running. The occasional use of [Gravity] strains me, but the rewards are more than worth it.
Lift, run, [Gravity], drop. Lift, run, [Gravity], drop. My health gets low, so I use [Heal] to bring myself up to an acceptable level of pain. Rinse. Repeat. The occasional bug flits around me, but I test my aim with [Gravity] by centering it on them and letting it crush them into a ball of buggy paste. The true use of gravity manipulation is as a glorified fly swatter.
My fugue ends when I lift the boulder and catch a glimpse of the sky through a well positioned hole. Pitch black. Now that I'm not constantly running around, I yawn as the sleepiness hits me. I ignore my body's fatigue as I go about storing all my materials, and tidy up a bit while I'm at it. I walk outside to take a look at the 'entrance', a rusted hole significantly bigger than the others in the hull. It should be the only one big enough to let somebody in, unless they're incredibly determined and manage to crawl through one of the smaller ones nestled in the sand.
I position a line of mana right outside the entrance before walking back in. Once I'm inside, I drop the boulder out of my inventory, and it falls a foot or so past the entrance. Someone could definitely still fit in the crack between the boulder and the hull. Could I use [Gravity] to pull it closer? Probably.
I set up a [Gravity] sphere in the entrance, but the heap of metal doesn't budge. I send another strand to it, and it starts to wobble, but ends up digging itself deeper into the sand. I'm too tired for this, I just want to go to sleep. I use two more strands, and the boulder suddenly jumps a bit before crashing into the hull. Fuck. I cut the flow to the sphere and it winks out of existence with a loud expulsion of air. I walk closer to get a better look, and yep, the entrance is dented in the exact shape of the boulder. I don't think that's going to buff out. Well, looking on the bright side, there's no way someone can get in the entrance now. Not when it's basically airtight.
I move to the flattest part of the ship, where the sand is less rusty and less likely to poison me as I sleep on it. I'm about to lay one of the blankets down on the sand so I don't have to wake up with coarse sand everywhere, including places I really don't want it to be, when an idea hits me. What's stopping me from storing all this sand in my inventory? I quickly drop my palm to the ground, and try to store what I'm touching. I don't notice anything happening, but checking my inventory, I now have one 'Grain of Sand'. Damn. So I can only store one thing at a time? I drop it out of my inventory, I'll never have a use for a single grain of sand. Whatever. I'll just use [Gravity] to gather all the sand and put it somewhere else.
A minute later, the sand in a roughly six foot square is mostly gone, displaced to the other side of the hull. What's left is a rusty, somewhat smooth metal surface. Not ideal, but better than a bunch of sand. I lay a blanket on the rust, mentally apologizing to Daniel as I do so, before putting a backpack down to use as a makeshift pillow. I lay down, ignoring the intense smell of rust, metal, and water filling my nose, and I cover myself with the other blanket.
Still not the worst place I've slept.
---
Drip. Drip. Drip. I'm awoken violently by a drop of water landing directly on my eyelid. God damn it, what now. I sit up in a daze, trying to catch my bearings. I see a lot of sand, rust, metal... right. I'm sleeping in a fucking shipwreck. God, what has my life become. Looking up, the sky is still pitch black, but a bit of purple is seeping in. Looks like it's raining. It feels like I only slept for like four hours. I lie back down, just for another drop of water to land on my lips, leaving a metallic taste in my mouth. Gross. I guess I'm getting up then.
I store my blankets and backpack, and look up at the hole above me. I don't care about any of the other holes yet, but I would prefer to be able to sleep without getting rained on. Which means I need to go up there, and duct tape the hell out of that hole. Gauging the distance, it seems like it's about ten feet up... can I jump that high? I haven't actually tested the bounds of my strength yet. Now's as good a time as any, I guess.
I find solid footing on the metal, bend my knees, and propel myself upwards with a surprising amount of force. I find myself rising upwards to meet the ceiling very, very quickly. Oh shit. I barely have time to react before my head slams into the rusted metal making up the upper layer of the ship. Pain lances through my body as I fall, just for the wind to be knocked out of me as I land on my back, the metal floor not softening my landing at all. I just lay there dazed for a second, letting the pain wash over me as I try to catch my breath. Damn, what a combo. Am I forever destined to hit my head on things in these accursed lands? I check my health, but surprisingly it's only gone down by sixteen. Guess that [Resistance] is paying off already.
I stand up with a wobble, before straightening out. I look back up and see an honest to god dent in the metal, a foot or so to the right of the hole I was trying to reach. I really am hard-headed. I wince at the joke, feeling embarrassed despite nobody hearing it. Well, silver linings, I can jump pretty damn high and I can hit my head hard enough to dent metal without taking too much damage. I'm glad my trainings paying off, but I can't help to think. If I'm already this strong, after only two days of actually working out, how strong will I be a week from now? A month from now? It's nice to think I might actually grow strong enough to make a difference.
For now though, before I get ahead of myself, I need to fix the hole in my roof leaking rain everywhere. I do a few quick hops, gauging my strength so I don't throw myself too high again, and store the boulder still blocking the entrance. I kind of feel like a modern version of Polyphemus, just with less sheep. I step out into the drizzling rain. I take a deep breath, getting a nose full of petrichor. I've always loved the smell of rain, if not the feel of it waking me up. Quickly taking a look around to make sure the coast is clear, I tense my legs and bound upwards, aiming for the top of the ship. I go up and up, actually eclipsing the top by a few feet, before I land on the uppermost layer. The steel shakes and reverberates for a second before going still. Now that I'm on the top, I can see a lot more holes than I could before. I might as well fix those while I'm up here, I've got more than enough duct tape and metal sheets to do so.
Walking over to the biggest hole first, I start bringing out metal plates from my inventory. I lay them out biggest to smallest, taking the smallest one that fits over the hole and duct taping the edges to the ship. An extra layer of duct tape around it will ensure it's watertight, at least for a while. I move on to the next hole, repeating the process. The rains starting to pick up, so I hasten my pace.
When I patch the last hole, I'm almost out of duct tape, and I only have a few metal sheets left. I'll have to go scavenging again at some point if I want enough to fix all the walls as well. The rain is absolutely pouring at this point, and the sun is starting to come up over the horizon. As much as I want to go back to sleep, I also want to eat tomorrow, so Fugly Bob's it is. I hop off the roof, landing on wet sand that barely cushions my fall. Taking a quick check inside, I don't see any water dripping in, but I don't know how long that duct tape will hold. I'll need a more permanent solution eventually. Oh well, I have bigger fish to fry right now. Looking out to the Market, I start running. I've forgotten how nice it is to run in the rain.
Arriving at Fugly Bob's as a sopping, cold mess was less than ideal. Although, I do feel significantly less cold than I should be, probably due to my higher vitality. Nice. I pace around the entrance, trying to find a reprieve from the rain, when I hear a very familiar rumble in the distance. Looks like Daniel's here, good timing. His silver truck pulls up to the restaurant, going around the back to park in his usual spot. After a minute or two, I hear footsteps coming from inside, so I turn around to look. Lo and behold, in all his glory, Daniel. He looks me up and down, his expression becoming awfully concerned. Oh, I probably look like a mess. Oh well. He throws the front door open, ignoring the closed sign going flying, before pulling me inside.
"What are you doing? You're drenched! Come, we have to warm you up before ya catch something." He rushes me further into the empty restaurant, the scent of wet wood filling the air. Actually, can I even still catch a cold? I don't think my vitality would allow that, and if it did, I don't think it would affect me very much. That's a nice benefit.
"I'm fine, Daniel. Cape, remember?" I brush off his concerns, and his face freezes for a second as I can practically see the gears in his head turning. It must've clicked that I'm not normal again, as he starts grinning and pats me on the back.
"Aye, I forgot. You one of those Brute types?" He asks. I'm surprised he knows what a brute is... actually never mind, his wife was a PRT agent, that makes sense.
"In a sense. I'm more of a grab-bag." He raises an eyebrow at me, but nods. He wanders off to take care of opening the restaurant, but keeps talking to me.
"That's convenient, eh? Never mind all the cape nonsense, what'd'ya need from me?" He shoots me a questioning look before going back to fixing the open sign at the front door.
"Ah, I'm just here to work. I've spent all my money on food." I respond, and he does a double take at me before he responds.
"Good lord lad, all of it? You weren't boasting when you said you ate a lot, huh? Well, good thing you showed up today. Friday's awfully busy, we could use the help. Say... you wouldn't happen to have a power for making burgers, would ya?" He chuckles, but I sense some hope in there. Damn, are Fridays really that bad?
"Nope." I pop the 'p' as I sit down at the counter on a stool that creaks when I put my weight on it. He spins to look at me with a crestfallen face, before he gets a mischievous look in his eye.
"Ah, so yer only good for washing dishes? Got it." He mutters just loud enough for me to hear him. He's gone and hurt my pride.
"I could make a damn good bouncer, but I don't think you need one of those here. Unless?" I inquire. I don't think a fast food joint needs a bouncer, but this is Brockton Bay, so it genuinely might. He shakes his head though, so no dice. Unfortunate.
"Nah, lad. Wouldn't work anyways, look at yerself. Bouncers are meant to be intimidating, y'know." He gives me a cheshire grin as I mockingly clutch my heart.
"I think I'd look intimidating after I throw someone through a wall for the first time." I respond. He fakes a wince as he sets a couple tables.
"Any property damage is coming out of your paycheck, boy. No throwing people through walls. Out the door, maybe. But don't break anything." He gives me a side eye, trying to look stern, but he deflates when I grin at him.
"You often get people thrown through walls here?" He turns to look at me with a haunted face.
"Oh, you have no idea. Glory Girl has a runnin' tally, that brat." He basically spits her name out. Damn, is she really that bad?
"Oh... I might've told her to come check with you about something. Uh... sorry in advance." I sheepishly add. He glares at me with venom in his eyes, promising vengeance. Uh oh.
"You what? I feed you, clothe you, give you shelter, and this is how you repay me?" I almost believe the caustic tone, but the slight grin he has gives it away.
"Hey, she almost thought I was a villain that stole these clothes from you. I had to clarify." I put my hands up as a sign of peace. His eyes bug out a bit, before he gets a nasty expression.
"She what? That brat... next time she comes in, I'm withholding her onion rings." I can sense fondness in his tone, despite what he's saying. Guess she really is a regular. To withhold onion rings... sorry Glory Girl. I'll send you my thoughts and prayers. Daniels about finished with cleaning, so I hop off the stool.
"Is my outfit still in the truck? Also, where do you want me working? Kitchen again?" I ask. He reaches in his pocket and throws me his keys without even looking at me. Impressive.
"Yeah, it's in the back. Took it out of the bed so it didn't get wet. As for where yer working... you'll have to pay for telling 'her' to come here. Yer working the counter." My face falls. No. I have to... interact with people? Daniel chuckles at my exaggerated horror. I turn around and make my way to the back door, ignoring him. Thankfully, it seems like the rain is easing up. I run out to the truck, quickly opening the door and grabbing my outfit. I put it in my inventory to keep it from getting wet, lock the doors again, and run back inside. I throw the keys back to Daniel, and he fumbles a bit when he notices I don't have the bag with me. He goes back to working when he connects the dots and remembers I can store things.
I walk to the bathroom to put the outfit on, and get hit with the memories of my first day here. It feels like so long ago, even though it's only been... what, four days? I store my current outfit before donning the incredibly tacky work uniform. God I forgot how terrible this thing looks. Ew. I can't even bare to look at myself in the mirror as I rush back out of the bathroom. I call out to Daniel when I see him walking to the kitchen.
"Hey, here's your bag back. Mind if I keep the outfit with me though?" I toss the bag on the counter, which he promptly grabs.
"Feel free. While you're up though, mind changing the sign to open? I'm gonna go start on the kitchen." I nod, and he takes that as a sign to disappear behind the kitchen walls. I head over to the door, and flip the hanging sign to open. Is it just us two working today? No way, right? I make my way behind the counter, setting up the register while waiting for someone, anyone, to show up to help.
Four hours. It took four fucking hours before some dude named Sean showed up to help with cooking. Forty six orders. I counted. I hate fast food. So much. Oh look, another customer. Time to fake smile and act like everything is okay.
It's barely noon, now. I've lost track of the amount of orders I've had to take. I'd rather fist fight Behemoth than do this shit again. Why has the entire population of Brockton Bay decided to come to Fugly Bob's today? It's Friday! Do people not have work? Or school? Or anything better to do? Oh, another customer! I can feel the mania setting in!
I'm slumped over the greasy, disgusting wooden counter now. I've decided. I'm just going to go rob Nazis when I need money from now on. To the victor belong the spoils, and all that. Oh, another customer. I feel my brain cascading, falling into an endless dream as my lips twist into a facsimile of a smile.
"Hello, welcome to Fugly Bob's! How can we help you today?" The words force themselves out of my mouth, oozing and twisting with well hidden malice. The face of the woman ordering changes, but it doesn't register as my mind is too busy navigating eldritch pathways, trying to find a solution to a problem that isn't.
"Uh... are you alright, dude?" Is that... concern I hear? For a fast food worker? I snap out of my braindead state to take a look at the break in monotony in front of me. Oh, it's Glory Girl. Is school already out? I look outside, and yeah, looks like it.
"Oh, it's you. Listen very closely... never, ever work at a fast food place. Also... per Daniel, you get no onion rings today." I watch her go through the five stages of grief in front of me, before settling on a surprised expression.
"What? Why?! I need those!" She rises a bit off the ground as she says that, only for a fry to come flying out of the kitchen at her. Daniel steps out, brandishing a spatula like a sword.
"Cause you harassed my worker, brat! Does he look like the type of kid to steal clothes? Huh?" His righteous anger is immense, and Glory Girl must've felt it as well, as her face blanches.
"Well, uh... listen. I was just trying to-" She gets interrupted by another fry bouncing off of her forcefield. Where the hell did that come from? Daniel wasn't holding any...
"Listen what, brat? You still haven't paid me back for the last time you broke a table!" Daniel barks at her, and I can see the sweat forming on her face. Thankfully for her, the restaurant is empty right now, the rush having left already.
"I'm sorry! I'm still trying to get the money! My allowance was cut..." Her face drops... and I can't help but feel a little bad. And a little confused. This is sounding more and more like a protection racket. Her embarrassed demeanor and the vast difference in how she's acting between now and yesterday is rather surprising.
"Daniel, it's alright. I forgive her, and I don't think she's the type of person to not repay her debts." I interject, both of their heads swinging towards me. Daniel looks at me with a gleam in his eye, and Glory Girl just looks relieved. Oh, Daniel's just pulling her leg. What a conniver.
"See? He's fine! And I promise I'll repay you. A Dallon always repays their debts." Oof, I can't believe she said that. Although, I guess cliche lines are par for the course for a superhero. Regardless, Daniel doesn't look impressed.
"You're still not getting yer onion rings." At that, Daniel turns back and goes back to the kitchen. Glory Girl turns to me, looking distraught but resigned, no longer hovering.
"Sorry for doubting you, I really have never seen you here before." She says to me, a small amount of guilt in her eyes.
"It's fine, this is my first time working the counter. I'm usually in the kitchen." I respond, and she looks relieved. She takes out her wallet and starts counting money as she speaks.
"Okay, I'll have a Hideous Bob and a side of... fries. That old fogey, I can't believe he's taking my onion rings." She apparently learned from her mistakes, as she dodges the third fry that flies towards her.
"That'll be... $14-" I don't even get to finish telling her the price before she's put down exactly fourteen dollars and sixty cents. She looks at me with the confidence only a regular can have. I put the money in the register, and she just... stands there. I look at her questioningly, and she starts to speak.
"Soo... what're your powers?" I look at her with a dead stare. Really? I take another look around the restaurant, and see nobody. I guess she's really running with me being an unmasked cape.
"Are you always this upfront?" I ask. She goes to say something, then pauses, then responds.
"You are unmasked, right? That wasn't a lie?" I can hear a small quiver in her voice, like she's worried about outing me.
"Yes. Don't spread it around yet, I have a big debut planned and everything. After that, feel free." Her face loses the edge to it, settling to relief.
"Okay, good. Uh... I did tell my family, but they're not the type to gossip. They are interested though, if you want to meet them?" Wow, it's that easy to meet New Wave? Uh, shit, I didn't plan for this. Should I? It would be nice to make connections... but I'd have to talk to Carol...
"I'll pass. At least until my debut. I might meet you guys after that. Unless..." My sentence trails off as I realize something. If my goal with the debut is to get an in with the Protectorate so I can learn about Bakuda... couldn't I just talk with New Wave about it? They're on relatively good terms with the Protectorate, and they'd definitely have an easier time getting information from them. And I could have backup with dealing with the Nazis... "I've changed my mind. When would a good time be? I'm open... really just whenever." Her face lights up, and she's about to respond when she's interrupted by a bag of food coming out of the kitchen.
"Here. Yer usual." Daniel drops the bag on the counter unceremoniously before walking back into the kitchen.
"Great! When do you get off?" She asks, taking a seat at the bar and pulling out her burger.
"When the restaurant closes, so about six." I wipe down the counter, trying to clear the grease from the bag being set down. It doesn't work.
"Cool... does that work? To bring you over, I mean." She takes a big bite out of her burger.
"Sure." I think she tries to smile at me, but the grease dripping everywhere makes it a sorry sight. She finishes the burger in record time, before reaching into the bag and pulling out the fries. She automatically places one in her mouth, just to frown when she recognizes they aren't onion rings. She places the fries to the side, and gets up.
"I'll be back around six then?" I give her a thumbs up, and she goes to leave, dropping her trash in the trash can and bringing the fries with her. I watch through the closing door as she takes off into the sky.
Ugh. Back to work.
I feel free. As I watch Daniel flip the sign to closed, I sigh in relief, feeling all the weight lift off my shoulders. He walks over to the bar and slaps an envelope on one of the drier areas, free of grease. I store it without bothering to count the cash, I'm too tired right now. He sends me a sympathetic look, which turns into shock as I store my uniform and quickly replace it with my regular clothes.
"Woah, lad. That's a neat trick. Thanks for the help tonight, ya made it more manageable." He pats me on the back again, and I can feel the gratitude. I still don't have any answers as to why Fridays are so busy.
"No problem. I don't know when I'll be back, but I'll aim for at least once a week." I respond, walking towards the door. "I'll see you later, Daniel."
"Be safe, Jack." He gives me a look I can't decipher. I nod and exit the restaurant, welcoming the fresh and not greasy air with open arms. Finally feels like I'm alive again. Once again, all the other stall owners are taking down their tents and gathering their wares. I find a bench to sit on to the side of Fugly Bob's, and I wait. It's not too long before I hear air moving around above me, and I look up just in time to see Glory Girl descending in front of me. She shoots me a cocky grin while hovering.
"Hey. Can you fly?" She's obviously expecting me to say no. I'm a little aggrieved I can't prove her wrong.
"No." I glare at her, which only makes her smug grin wider.
"Heh. Well, two ways we can do this. You can follow me, and we get there late. Or... I carry you." Her insinuations aren't lost on me. I wonder if, once I'm able to use [Gravity] for an extended period of time, I can fly? I should be able to, considering I can move the spheres while they're active. I can't now, though...
"Fuck. Fine, carry me." She's radiating pure smugness at this point. Bastard. She drops down a bit, before hooking her arms under my armpits and flying up. Thank god she didn't insist on a princess carry, I would've just walked.
I barely have time to react before she shoots upwards. I feel the wind in my hair... and my eyes, and mouth, and everywhere else. Is this supposed to be a show of power? I manage to keep my composure, which she seems to take as a challenge, as she speeds up even more. I think she's flying at her top speed now, yet I can still manage to keep my posture relaxed and my face neutral. My vitality being so high is definitely a big benefit. I take in the sights beneath us, Brockton Bay sprawling in its vast entirety. As we move further from the Docks, the city starts looking better and better. At least, from what I can see a couple hundred feet in the air. The buildings look better, the lights become more consistent, vehicles are less destroyed. Damn, this place isn't as bad as I thought. I think it's just the Docks that are terrible.
I'm so entranced by the sights passing by me that I only knock myself out of it when we start descending. We're in a much nicer neighborhood, probably owed to their cape lifestyles. It reminds me of the suburbs in a way, just less uniform. They live in a pretty big house, not a mansion per se, but definitely big. At least three floors. We drop the floor, and I hop out of the grip she has on me. I have to roll my shoulders a bit to work out the discomfort from being held that way for so long. Glory Girl shoots me another smirk, before walking up to the nice wooden door of the house and opening it. I move to follow her, but just as I step up onto the porch, I'm interrupted.
"Is this the 'cape', Victoria?" Standing there, in the doorway, is a tall woman, with short blonde hair the same color as Glory Girl's. Carol Dallon. Brandish.
Ugh.