[] Equipment
-Most of the nonsense cluttering up your lab is junk you stuck together with your loose knowledge of the bush-art of Science, your Null didn't really leave you with many options after all. But now maybe you could at least handle the sturdier type of equipment?
(70% Chance, on Success; +New toy's to make other toys, -1,000$)
i just realized that we have only 500$ income but we need 1000$ how will that work?
[] Equipment
-Most of the nonsense cluttering up your lab is junk you stuck together with your loose knowledge of the bush-art of Science, your Null didn't really leave you with many options after all. But now maybe you could at least handle the sturdier type of equipment?
(70% Chance, on Success; +New toy's to make other toys, -1,000$)
i just realized that we have only 500$ income but we need 1000$ how will that work?
Some ideas for weapons using basic voltage.
- Grappling Hook launcher, Batman does have his grappling hook double as reusable taser
- Chain-mail for an electric hug
- Tesla coil gun to help with shooting high voltage Lightning
- Railgun for much tougher targets once she has a high enough voltage.
- Coilgun for her basic rifle, no need for gunpowder which will save a lot on money.
- EMP for obvious reasons
- A Metal Pole for a melee weapon
In regards to our wild magic that is hard to control we should build items either tech or magitech to help channel our magic power so we should definitely focus on science especially since our personal combat is low
If there ever were any Omakes, Non-Canon one's would earn the writer a one time +5 to a roll of their choice, while canon ones would get the +5 as well as a permanent +1 to the stat of their choice. And perhaps another boon depending on the contents of the Omake, to properly reflect the events of the Omake taking place.
They'd be judged on a case-by-case basis as far as what qualifies canon/non-canon. Beyond that if anyone deems it worth their time any and all Omakes are absolutely welcome.
And, apologies for the long wait folks. Next update coming in about...twenty minuets.
You watch as the clock ticks a tick more. Idly swirling the cheep alcohol in your hand as you wait, reflecting on the surprisingly successful month behind you. A few things left you with less than a happy feeling, but you take pride in the fact that for once your life isn't just the stagnant wait for another day or whittling time away with some half-thought out experiment. It's not everything you'd hoped for going in you think, looking at the plastic cup in your hand. But it's surprisingly close.
------------------------ Diplomacy
[] Speak with Dr. Cilvan
-"And what exactly happened to the blood then, Francisca?" The elderly alchemist rasps. Finally looking up from his equipment. "I suppose you have a...handy explanation for that." He grunts, his hunched back seeing to the fact that the man's nearly a head shorter than you. But that doesn't do a whole lot for you mentally. But the blood in you seems to crackle, and where you would've faltered in days past you keep enough of your head to make a clear decision.
(Continued in Miniturn: A Talk With Doc)
[] Practice your speechcraft
1d100=72+14+5=91, Success
-You spent quite a bit of time in front of a mirror this month, but not without some pretty nice progress. You weren't the most confident of speakers, in fact you still aren't, and your speeches are still more likely to devolve into a series of nonsensical threats. But from what you've seen that lines up with the standard villain's capabilities.
(+1 Diplomacy)
Martial
[] Sharpen your strategic mind
1d100=42+19+5=66, Success
-Now as much as you'd prefer it, you lack the money for one of the fancy holographic boards that'd let you play with other people while keeping some level of anonymity, or...any other device that'd stand up to your Null. So you were forced to find the dingiest, hole-in-the-wall game shop you could. Now at first you scared away the typical clientele, and the only reason you likely weren't run out was because the shop keep spent most of the time passed out. Eventually some worked up the nerve to take up your offer of a game, and you managed to learn a bit.
(+1 Martial)
[] Magic and Melee
7+10+5=22, Failure
-You're not sure what the problem is, maybe your lack of skill. Maybe your lack of knowledge and control over your powers. But regardless your attempts lead to little but some exhaustion and a few minor electric discharges barely strong enough to tickle someone.
Stewardship
[] Clean, Salvage, Sell
1d100=29+20+5=54, Success
-Most things in your warehouse were burnt out scrap, either from some barely thought through experiment or you handling something too "roughly". But there are enough wackjobs out there trying to be the one to make science mainstream that are desperate for raw materials. Just like you were. And just like you you do your best to rip them off for every cent.
(+540$, +A Clean Warehouse)
[] Equipment
1d100=30+20+5=55, Success
-You did what you could to restrain yourself at the shop. Enough pocket money to actually buy something without calling in a favor, and the ability to actually use proper equipment? You're suprised you kept your composure. Unfortunately you had to pay for a piece you fried when you overestimated how safely you could handle the more sensitive stuff. Guess you're sticking with the sturdier equipment for now.
(+A sturdy Fab Kit, -1,000$)
Intrigue
[] String of Burglaries
1d100=31+23+5=59, Success
-You haunt your old stomping grounds on the very outskirts of the city, making sure to hit the houses no one but fresh-faced Adventures could possibly care about. Lifting anything that's not nailed to the ground, and sometimes grabbing a crowbar for what is nailed down. You hit up a fence that hasn't seen your face before, and pawn off everything. You'll b e honest, you're certain the bastard ripped you off severely. But you made some extra cash, and made sure to remember his face for later.
(+245$)
[] Contact your old connections
1d100=53+23+5=81, Success
-The man takes a long draft of his beer. You waited for him to finish, every drop of blood in your veins urging you to fry him. But you hold yourself back, if not for the goons he no doubt has watching you, but for what you needed him for. He finishes, and eyes you. "You've been gone quite some time Fran, most people would've had you capped after what you did." He chuckles. "But I knew you'd come back, you're not one to abandon the family after all." The 'fatherly' tone the bastard slathers his voice with makes your stomach churn. Just a bit longer.
(Continued in Miniturn: A Reunion With The Family)
Learning
[] Science anyway
1d100=96+26+10+5=137, Success
-You'll be honest, even after your surprising success with the blood you didn't quite expect your first experiment to be this successful. The idea was pretty well-founded, devices made to catch, hold, and redistribute electricity, magical or otherwise, are as old as electricity magic itself. But you've yet to hear of a device able to achieve such a thing without some level of Enchantments. But you've...actually managed it. It's incapable of holding electricity originating from magical sources, and anything of too high a voltage coming in too quickly will fry it...and it's kind of the size of your chest and about as heavy as a small child. But at least seems to work just fine with the electricity you discharge. You draft up a blueprint to work off of in the future and pat yourself on the back.
(+1 Electric Storage Device(ESD), +ESD Blueprint now producible)
[] Hit the books
1d100=9+26+5=40, Failure
-The books are as always, confusingly written chicken scratch. Likely scrawled in some dark room in the dead of night, and the 'quality' shows. But, you manage to parse through the rambling and find some useful tidbits from his experiments with non-Magical electricity, though you still fail to grasp some of it's more...eccentric points.
(+1 Learning)
Personal
[] Experiment with your newfound powers
1d100=96+26+5=127
-Something just...clicks, when you start properly attempting to use your powers. And through this you gain a touch more understanding on the unicorn that is Wild Magic. It's...barely magic, really. More some strange process akin to how a human's sigil captures and converts raw mana. The blood in you seems to simply use mana as an ignition, to kick off whatever the hell it's sigil does. Which, seems to be producing and controlling raw electricity from what you've seen? This doesn't really explain how this managed to suppress your Null Sigil, considering how much more...simplistic? The Great Beast's seems. Well, you suppose that could be why your Null's still present instead of outright being replaced as you'd hoped. This'll require a good deal more experimentation on your part, you suppose.
Regardless, you've managed to begin producing electricity at-will, though the blood seems to have some sort of internal limit on what it holds, likely tied to your limited mana reserves. But by the end you can emit haphazard, uncontrolled bursts of electricity and even have it coat your skin. much akin to the creature who you took the blood from.
(+2 Personal Combat, +Simplistic Knowledge of Wild Magic, +Basic use of Powers)
[] Spruce up the Warehouse
1d100=10+20+5=35, Failure
-You'll be honest, you...kinda got sidetracked play-experimenting with your powers. So you actually didn't really spend the time you had set aside to shop around a few flea markets. But you had at least kept a few nice things from your burglary run, a semi-nice chair to replace the one you destroyed injecting the blood and some alcohol to celebrate with.
(+A Chair, +Cabinet of (very) cheep alcohol.)
------------------------------
You're shaken from your thoughts by the quiet chime of your clock striking midnight, it's officially a full month. "A step further." You mutter, knocking back the drink. Contentedly letting it burn down your throat.
AN: Once more, apologies for the delay. Next up is the first Miniturn.
[] Hit the books
-More legitimately acquired books, this time in the more school-tastic variety. These should help, and provide a fun little read.
...It's beginning to occur to you that you may qualify as a "Nerd."
(80% Chance, on Success; +1 Learning)
-Due to the nature of science, there's little in the way of what you call 'reputable' authors. Meaning much of what you have is written by maniacs in their woodland hut. And after the second book that started rambling on and on about the "Aether" you realize that you got a bad batch. And that these nonsensical ramblings were from some alchemist that went off the deep end as opposed to a scientist. Potentially useful, but you can't manage to make much sense of them within the time you had set aside for studying.
The building in front of you is wrought of pure white stones twice your size, no doubt the work of Masons, and it towers over the open field you sit in. The distance from any other building standard for an alchemy guild. You watch the slow trickle of employees leaving as the stars begin to wink into existence for the night. Quietly letting every car speed off until only one remains in the lot, the doc's.
You clamber to your feet from where you had staked out the building. Cilvan always had a tendency to burn the candle at both ends, which is perfect, considering how you'd vastly prefer this meeting to be private.
No time like the present, that thought flits through your mind as you slip through the empty parking lot and into the building. The thick glass doors opening to allow you entrance to the lobby without any resistance, and as you thought the receptionist was long gone, thankfully. Enchantments meant to go off when an unauthorized individual touches a door they're not supposed to treat you as empty air, so the lack of staff means you can just walk right through.
Or, at least that's what you once were able to do. This time when you went to slide open one of the thick blast doors anair raid siren goes off. Time seems to sputter to a stop for a moment as you hear the whirring inside the walls, and you come to the realization that you're a little fucked.
Time resumes as you hear something metallic slam down behind you, glancing over you realize that the front door sealed shut with a metallic blast door akin to the one in front of you. The enchantments somehow coming to the conclusion that the situation deems a lock down. Finally snapping to your senses after the whirlwind that was the past second and a half, you attempt to dart for the secretary's desk. Hoping for some sort of control interface. But, you quickly find that your hand is stuck fast to the door you had tried to open.
Confusion arcs through your mind, transmutation, even with your Null muted as it is, should be outright impossible on your body. But then some part of you recognizes that the enchantment isn't affecting your hand, it's turned the space between your hand and the door into a vacuum. You growl in frustration, not even thinking to question how you recognized this, and futilely attempt to physically pull your hand from the door.
As the seconds tick by your efforts become more and more frenzied, a thin sheen of electricity coming to coat your skin. Much like an animal caught in a trap.
"…Fransica?" You hear, as the alarm suddenly cuts off. You look up, seeing Doctor Cilvan standing in one of the now-opened side doors. "Are you…knawing on your arm?" You've never heard the man as befuddled as he is now, for…good reason, you come to realize as your mind properly snaps into focus.
You quietly move your mouth away from your still-trapped forearm. "Perhaps."
The alchemist and you awkwardly sit in silence for a moment.
"Could you, turn this off?" You cough, nodding towards your hand, still sealed to the door.
He sighs, clicking the small remote in his hands. And you feel the suction gluing your hand to the metal door dissipate. You wring your freed hand, rubbing some feeling into it after the experience left it numb..
The doctor, without a word more turns and disappears through the door he came from. You naturally follow, you had to talk with him after all.
After a minuet of chasing him through the corridors, you catch up to him in his main laboratory, a sterile white room housed in a huge oval space with a slab in the center that seems more befitting an operating theater, and a dozen tables with a confusing mess of experiments and alchemical concoctions, do doubt all related to each other in some dizzying string of logic. The doctor seems to have once more engrossed himself in his work, not even looking up when you walk up behind him.
"You don't seem too pleased to see me Doc." You lead in. "Alarm go off at an awkward time?"
The man doesn't look up from his table. "You and I both know, that's not why I'm upset with you." He grunts, turning a dial carefully on the vial stand in front of him.
"So, you know about the equipment?" You probe, you needed to know how much he knows about before going deeper. "You know that some bandits hit that delivery, some Adventurers found the vans ransacked." He grunts. "Ya blamin' me for that now, Doc?"
"Then what happened to the equipment then." The hunched man doesn't look at you. "Nothing matching it has turned up in any villain's hands, there's nothing on the black market, and that group of 'bandits' disappeared just as quickly as they happened to appear." He glances up at you as his small tirade ends.
Silence hung in the air for just a second, you expected him to be suspicious, but the man might've cracked you…which, would be an issue. But as you go to explain yourself some more, the man cuts you off. "The problem with buying people off, Fransisca. Is that it just takes a bigger check to get them to squeal."
Yeah, he made you. "…You know I needed that equipment, Doc." You finally state.
He nods, still unmoved form his position hunched over the table. "I didn't call the cops for a reason, Fransica." You're…slightly taken aback by this. The doc valued his equipment, so you expected some sort of…payback, from him. Though, he doesn't seem to know you were responsible for the blood. So that might be why.
"But, do tell me." The doc finally properly stands and turns to you,even at his "full" height he still has a hunch, letting him remain a full head shorter than you. But, this does little to help you mentally as he stares into your eyes. "What did you do with my blood, Fransica?" For the first time, anger does seem to creep into his voice, ever so slightly. And you can't say you blame him, Great Beast blood is both a valued regent and ludicrously expensive to come by.
but, despite the man's anger, your blood seems to crackle. So where you once may have faltered, you remain steadfast, steadfast enough to consider your options…
----------------------------------
[] "I knew someone who was in the market, and I made sure it was kept quiet until I had the cash in hand."