According to the Lord Himself, its going to be an uppercrust interlude, not much writing time, so no new perk, but points will be accumulated.
doesn't sundancer already do that?
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Brockton's Celestial Forge (Worm/Jumpchain)
- Thread starter LordRoustabout
- Start date
But her Sun's aren't DIVINE SUNS!!!!
Besides she doesn't really like to use her powers and in canon pretty much put up her cape.
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Honestly, with the amount of powers he has, most things won't do more than change the approach he takes. He is OP enough now that very little would actually make him more dangerous.
The bigger risk he may run into is that as he gets new things, he doesn't actually delve into the full depths of the older things that he already has. That surface level use of most of his random stuff could potentially be a problem in the future.
- Location
- Philippines
I still find it hilarious that the Lord in LordRoustabout really does fit with the term Word of God.
The next time I'll reference a WoG, I think I'll start off with the "The Lord hath spoken..."
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Another good thing that could happen is if Joe get's more movies and music form other versions of Earth.
Primarily due to the fact that I'm currently listening to the soundtrack of Beetlejuice the Musical on Youtube. And it honestly sounds like something that Aisha would enjoy.
So cue people freaking out to Lethe suddenly showing up with the line of "Welcome to a show about Death!"
Primarily due to the fact that I'm currently listening to the soundtrack of Beetlejuice the Musical on Youtube. And it honestly sounds like something that Aisha would enjoy.
So cue people freaking out to Lethe suddenly showing up with the line of "Welcome to a show about Death!"
82.1 Interlude Uppercrust
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
82.1 Interlude Uppercrust
Uppercrust reviewed the drafting tools assembled before him. The subtle elements of the design, the shape, texture, even smells, they transported him back in time. Graphite and drafting paper. Courses in technical drawing, taken before computer aided design had been the standard for engineering students. Old professors with dusty sleeves guiding eager students through the art, the true art, of capturing precise physical reality within the bounds of a sheet of paper.
It was one of his better memories. Settling in for work, managing small movements that didn't stress or exhaust him. He didn't know if it could be said that he had a talent for the craft, but he was proficient enough to excel in the coursework. To polish the skill to a reasonable degree.
It was a common assumption that tinkers arose from those with technical backgrounds. Uppercrust was well aware of how erroneous that assumption was. He was also aware of how the gap tended to close following ones triggering as a tinker. Technical understanding was an undeniable asset to the work. Only the most outlandish tinkers could function off nothing but the strength of their power, and even then would be almost useless in any collaborative project.
There was almost some dark humor in it. Those gifted with knowledge and skills beyond the greatest mortal engineers and scientists throwing themselves into entry level courses in the very fields they had been blessed with. Often if only to allow them to properly communicate the principles of their devices without needing to make up new scientific terms and systems of measurement, but there were benefits beyond that. The inspiration that came from expanded understanding of the world could open avenues of your own power that you would never have imagined.
That was what he was feeling now. The collection of tools in the portfolio before him seemed to draw out inspiration from the very depths of his soul. There was a burning desire to put pen to paper, to take up the compass or T-square and set to work. Every item in the kit, from the most mundane pencil to the most technical measurement device was assembled with a precision and beauty that was shocking to behold. Subtle ornamentation was included everywhere, from the engravings on the tools to the embossed leather of the case. Rather than detract, the decorative features either flowed perfectly into the technical elements of the design, or somehow enhanced the utility of the tools.
He had felt the power in the simple items. The way they drew out elements of his own power, granting focus, control, and a clarity of purpose he rarely experienced. That alone would have been of more value than could be put into words, because in the world of parahumans, power was paramount.
It was a display, a confirmation of the exact concerns that had been leveled regarding the potential of a tinker specializing in powers. Tinkers already operated on an escalation curve. It was an element known even to the general public. The 'build up' stage, assembling tools and resources. The research and experimentation needed to bring your work past the clumsy steps of the freshly triggered.
Uppercrust's own struggles with the initial stages of his power were a distant memory, but he had seen enough young tinkers in his career to be constantly reminded of that stage of development. The experimental works, assembled from stripped appliances, household chemicals, and whatever junk could be salvaged or stolen. Often the first step in cobbling together a functional lab or workshop, but just as often used in some ill-conceived debut attempt. The cape world was not a stable place, and necessity often demanded action before one was prepared for what they would be facing.
Sometimes using those desperate inventions was the only path available. Despite the support of the Elite, and the somewhat more restrictive offers of the Protectorate, tinker abilities were difficult to safely monetize. Combined with the risks associated with being a new and unprotected tinker and there was an understandable drive to secure resources and funding as quickly as possible. To try to get on the escalation curve that put tinkers in a category of their own.
From the outside it looked like that curve, the ability to build up and improve your capabilities, was a free ride once the initial hurdles have been crossed. As usual, reality was a more complicated affair. Very few tinkers were anything close to self-sufficient. A constant flow of resources was necessary just to maintain their workshops, much less produce new equipment.
Maintenance was also a constant concern, and the commitments of such could quickly eclipse all other projects. It was something Uppercrust was well aware of. Even with effectively unlimited resources and a lack of logistical concerns, most of his time was devoted to maintaining his existing systems, with the occasional refinement of design or small personal project.
Even if resources and maintenance commitments could be managed effectively, other limits would present themselves. Projects would balloon in complexity and cost. Inspiration would be more difficult to acquire, needing more research and sources of information. Eventually, the escalation curve would taper off. The point at which it did so varied from tinker to tinker, but it always took shape, driven by the fundamental aspects of their power.
Unless you could direct your works towards those aspects. Change the variables that shaped the curve, rather than the constraints under which it operated. And that was what stood before him. A direct enhancement of his abilities, augmented and amplified by a collection of deceptively simple drafting tools. If that had been the extent of what had been created it would still have been a priceless asset capable of tilting the balance of power on a national level.
But this was Apeiron. Power augmentation, the stable expression of the kind of trump effect that was only seen from the most powerful capes, was just one more feature in his impossible creation.
"And I just place it here?" He asked, gesturing to the drafting paper.
The man nodded as he continued to guide Uppercrust through the features of his work. "There's an element of intent behind it. You don't need to worry about it triggering for everything that brushes against the paper. The whole purpose behind this is information management, so there are a lot of active effects, not just passive properties."
Uppercrust put on a display of following along with Apeiron's explanation, accepting it at face value. In reality, the impossibility of the creation was difficult to process, and was only likely to get more so as the demonstrations continued. He considered that this would likely be easier with a non-tinker or one who had less experience. Uppercrust's personal understanding of the item's casual disregard for every convention and limit of both tinker tech and parahuman abilities was likely working against him.
Regardless, he lifted his cane and rested it on the paper. A brilliantly detailed technical diagram appeared underneath it, lines tracing themselves outward from the point of contact with the drafting pad. He could even hear the faint scratch of graphite as the detail was filled in. Removing his cane, Uppercrust examined the drawing.
It was perfectly accurate, like someone had traced the shadow of his cane and then filled in the detail. It only showed the surface level, but every component was perfectly rendered at one-to-one scale. At Apeiron's prompting, Uppercrust lifted the page, folding it over the pad. The next page showed an exploded view of the forcefield assemblies inside his walking stick. The next one detailed the full length at reduced scale, showing portions of the object that hadn't fit on the first page.
The detail continued, page after page. Every component, every minor part of the assembly perfectly captured in an instant. The finest scanners at his disposal wouldn't have been able to deconstruct the design so quickly and accurately.
"Now, the components marked in red represent points of failure. Areas that will require excessive or ongoing maintenance." Apeiron explained, pointing out sections of the diagrams. "Components highlighted in yellow require additional effects for their assembly, supporting action of your tinker power. They're the portions you'll have to personally oversee."
He nodded slowly. "I am aware of the theories of facilitated construction, but there is considerable debate on the subject." He looked back at the diagrams. "I never expected to see it confirmed with such confidence."
"Tinker powers are complicated." Apeiron explained in a heavy tone of voice. "I have some thoughts on the use of PRT designations for the purposes of power analysis."
Uppercrust smiled. "I doubt they were ever intended to be assessed to quite this level. A simplification of combat engagement protocols, not the final word on the nature of abilities."
"Indeed." He said with a slight nod. "While you get some similarities between tinkers, the classification is too wide for any universal declarations to hold up across the board. The distinction between high level skill thinkers, tinker capes, and capes with totemic powers is nebulous, with a lot of crossover."
Considering the man fit firmly into all three categories, Uppercrust was forced to agree.
"There is some work out there that is pure technology, able to be perfectly replicated if the underlying properties are understood." He explained. "And there are some items that are solely empowered by parahuman abilities. What's thought of as tinker tech falls somewhere between the extremes. Sometimes you have power assisted assembly, either through minor shaker effects altering the properties of the components or just a precision and understanding of the components that would be impossible to conventionally replicate. Sometimes you have external factors supplementing the technology in question, improving the functionality or even facilitating an effect that would otherwise be impossible." He gestured to the drawings. "Understanding where the weak points lie is one of the most important steps in refining your work."
"This assessment, is it an aspect of your abilities?" Uppercrust asked. What the man revealed about passenger theory, or perhaps it should be said what he confirmed about passenger theory, had been as revelatory as it had been concerning.
"To some extent, though the majority was drawn from assessment of Bakuda's works." He replied.
"Ah, the 'chaos tinker'." Uppercrust said. The described methodology had been observed before, but as usual, what was generally held as a potential theory of behavior became hard certainty in Apeiron's mind.
"Her devices can fall anywhere on that scale. It makes analysis and replication a challenge. I suspect that, given the right motivation, she would be able to work with almost anything." He took a slow breath. "With the resources of the ABB, and the support of March's power…"
He didn't need to say more. The damage that had been wrought on the city, culminating in the Ungodly Hour made it clear what a terrifying prospect had been overlooked until it was too late. A tinker, supported by a powerful organization and enhanced by synergy with an external power.
Just as he was being. Uppercrust picked up a masterfully crafted scribing gauge and felt the connection to his passenger bloom. Power, power beyond even his own lofty limits. Ideas flowed forth, ready to be committed to the page. Improvements for the defensive systems that were integrated into his cane. New applications for civic shields. So many ideas, so much potential.
In a flash there was a moment of revelation. Narwhal, the way her forcefields formed composite barriers. The way thousands of independent fields traced to a single point of origin without overwhelming the emitter. Tracking movement and allowing adjustment and reconfiguration on the fly. A problem he had wrestled with for years and long since dismissed as some impossible feature of a second trigger unfolded before him.
He wanted to start work immediately. It was the instincts of a lifetime of tinker work. Moments of inspiration, where everything aligned perfectly, were fleeting and valuable. If Apeiron was correct, those moments stood on the whims of their passengers, supplemented by Sechen ranges and environmental factors. At any other time, he would have insisted on getting the ideas down while he was able to capitalize on them.
Now, he didn't have to. He set the tool down and felt the strength of the connection diminish, but not fade completely. The effect was linked to the kit as a whole, not the tools that composed it. Perfect inspiration, on demand, and facilitated through a single object.
There were concerning implications to that. While master concerns had been largely dismissed, Uppercrust couldn't forget the way they had bloomed from a single example of Apeiron's craftsmanship. More personally, you had Bastard Son. The man's ability was well known, as seen through his thralls. Granted power with a single item at the cost of sanity and agency. It was precisely the kind of effect that raised concerns with any promise of power in the cape community.
Not that mind control would even be necessary. Uppercrust remembered Teacher's rise. Even when there were assurances that the skill granted hadn't come with strings attached, he personally didn't trust the man or any of his students. The fact was, power was addictive. Even if Teacher hadn't been able to turn his students into puppets, the draw of what he could grant would have been enough to keep people desperate for his favor. Apeiron could grant items that unlocked the hidden potential of a tinker, of potentially any cape. He would need no lever of control beyond the threat of taking them away.
Uppercrust closed the drafting kit, hiding the miraculous instruments within a masterful leather case. Then, with great but probably unnecessary care, he closed it again, folding the case into itself. It quickly compressed from the size of a large briefcase to a small leather folder. He cautiously opened the folder, revealing a small notebook the size of a day planner, with a selection of writing tools stored opposite it.
"Now, you can find those plans in the book by turning to the correct sections." Apeiron instructed. The casualness with which he explained the features of his creation did nothing to undercut the majesty of what had been produced. Still, if Uppercrust was going to get caught up at every impossibility he would never get through this.
He grasped the book and pressed his thumb against the pages, letting them flick past. Two things which were immediately apparent were the speed at which the pages turned and the fact that a book that size should not be able to contain so many pages. Uppercrust was not navigating by index or seeking a specific page, but the moment he stopped he saw the designs of his forcefield cane laid out on the page. Flipping through the next few pages showed the subsequent breakdowns of the design, including highlighted sections.
"This is the effect you described?" Uppercrust guessed. "The one that enhances tools to the point of modern technology?" It neatly explained the lack of inclusion of any device from the last hundred years. If a drafting kit was able to function as well as a 3D scanner, then what function would a notebook take on? Laptop? PDA? Cell phone?
"That's part of it." He explained. "There are more effects in play than just that. It serves as the baseline before my other powers take effect, and there are refinements beyond that. But yes, if you applied that ability in isolation to a notebook you'd end up with something on the level of a modern equivalent in terms of data storage and word processing."
That had been another revelation freely shared with Uppercrust. Not a surprise by any means, but Apeiron had confirmed the presence of multiple discrete abilities. It had been a necessity of explaining exactly what had been created in that flash of starlight.
Items built by Apeiron were enhanced by a significant number of effects. So many effects that the man had claimed it wasn't worth listing them individually, instead referring to them in terms of benefits such as quality, efficiency, resilience, and additional features.
A specific effect that had been explained was the ability to produce simple tools that performed on the level of modern technology. The idea of a scythe with the functionality of a combine harvester was already impressive enough, but seeing it applied to something as simple as a book was what truly drove the point home. The tiny notebook had data management and search functions exceeding a modern computer system, and that was just the most basic element of its functionality.
"You said the items stored are still available?" Uppercrust asked. Skepticism seemed badly misplaced at this point, but by all appearances it seemed to be impossible.
Apeiron just nodded. "The tools and anything put in the workbench or writing desk is still accessible. If you turn to the inventory list…" He prodded.
Once again Uppercrust flicked the pages and one again they flew past faster and in greater numbers than should have been possible. When the pages stopped on an itemized list of every tool included in any form of the kit he noted that, by all appearances, it was open to a point about halfway through the book. Just like it had been at the last section, and every other section that he had seen.
Somehow inquiring about the actual page count of the tiny volume didn't seem like it would be a particularly productive endeavor.
"So, if you turn from components to stored items…" With barely any prompting the pages turned again, listing the inventory, consisting of the single item Uppercrust had placed as a test of the feature.
'Gold Bar (1kg) qt. 1'
"So how do I…" Uppercrust's voice dropped off as the pages turned of their own accord. There, on the new page, stood a perfect drawing of the bar that had been stored in the item's larger form. It was a pencil drawing, but impossibly detailed, capturing texture, shading and reflections that seemed to almost move in the light of the room. With the way the gleaming of the bar was so perfectly captured it almost seemed possible to reach out and touch…
Uppercrust was holding a one-kilogram bar of gold. And he was looking at an empty page. Flipping back to the inventory list, he found it empty. Trying to account for the exact moment when the bar had transitioned from a flat drawing to a physical presence proved unproductive. His mind seemed to slide past the event. Something that was probably for the best all things considered.
He set the piece of metal to his side, briefly marveling at the ease of the motion. No strain of trembling of his hand, no creeping exhaustion from the aftermath. Simple motions carried out in the absence of the obstacles that had plagued his every moment.
And he didn't even have time to drink in that miracle before another was dropped into his lap. With a thought he pulled open the folder, watching as it expanded past the size of the drafting kit before settling into an elegant Victorian writing desk of rich, lacquered wood. It stood on intricately carved legs and featured four drawers with immaculately sculpted pulls neatly arranged along the front. The back of the desk featured an assembly of shelves containing writing supplies, including an expanded set of tools compared to what could be found in the drafting kit.
He opened one of the drawers. It was larger than it should have been, given the profile of the desk, but that was barely worth note at this point. He placed the gold bar inside, closed the drawer, and folded the desk back into a notebook. Flicking to the inventory again, he saw the bar of gold listed once more.
He decided not to test the retrieval function this time, and fortunately the book elected not to advance independently.
"Is there a limit on the storage? Some restrictions I should be concerned about?" There were few points of concern that had been raised regarding the item or its use. Apeiron seemed to be approaching the instruction more out of concern that some utility might be overlooked than out of any safety considerations.
"None that you're likely to encounter." The man said frankly. "Overloading the storage might make retrieval of specific items more difficult, but this is really for personal convenience. You're not likely to hit that point unless you're using it for bulk storage or transport." He explained. "If you need something like that I can make something purpose built for that effect."
"Ah, yes." He said, working to keep his composure. Working directly with Apeiron, effectively seeing things from the inside, made it clear just how badly every estimation of the man's capacities were under-calling the situation. Aspects tacked on for the purposes of 'personal convenience' would have been sufficient to define the career of any other cape.
Because everything here, the enhancement of his power, the miraculous functionality of antique technology, the impossible storage, it was secondary to the true purpose of the item. The notebook, drafting kit, writing desk, and workbench combined had a purpose, and a name. Apeiron had emphasized that, a Name, with the capital letter somehow clearly pronounced.
Thurin-Ist. Uppercrust didn't recognize it, but the way Apeiron said it, with precise pronunciation and absolute conviction, it left no doubt. For most tinkers naming their creation was a harmless idiosyncrasy. For Apeiron, it carried a weight that Uppercrust felt on a level beyond the physical. The slim volume containing the notebook was light for its size, much less for something that contained an entire workbench, but it held significance, and that made it heavy on an entirely different level.
Without prompting, he opened the book and flicked the pages. They stopped on the familiar layout of a day planner. On the right-hand page, the day was broken down by hours, neatly outlining his scheduled appointments coming and commitments. A schedule he had never added to the book. It had simply propagated itself, neatly and accurately. And on the left page the exact same information was presented, with the vital distinction that it was written in pencil, rather than ink.
Apeiron looked at the pages and gave a grim nod. "Remember the obscurement is going to lean towards inaction and reactionary moves. If you leave it as is, precogs aren't going to see anything beyond your usual schedule and responses to outside action. If you want to put forward a false prediction, you can write it in your schedule, but there are risks to that."
Risks. As if there were no risks to obscuring precognitive powers to begin with. Obscurement, not negation. False information provided to thinker powers that peered into the future. It provided a window, a period of safe action and preparation before the deviations could be recognized. Then a second period before the usual obstruction effects could be accounted for and the effect was traced to its source.
The focus on 'information management' hadn't been in reference to his tinker power, or the designs that could be extracted by the drafting kit, or the seemingly endless capacity of the simple notebook. It was information management in the sense of the classic response to thinkers. Limiting the data available to them. Through the creation of a 'simple' book, Apeiron had sheltered Uppercrust from the thinkers who would obstruct his plans. He had granted a window for his objectives, the cleaning of house, to be completely successful.
But this was bigger than the internal politics of an Elite cell. Uppercrust knew the reach of thinker powers, the way they shaped engagements and turned encounters on their head. He knew about the major powers that lurked out in the world, the influence they had, from the stories of Cauldron's boogeyman to the shadow of the Simurgh herself.
When he asked for clarification, Apeiron simply assured him of its effectiveness against all precognitive powers. No clarifications or qualifiers. A bit of explanation about the mechanics, binding of energies into physical structures in a method that harkened to Dauntless. A method that was possibly derived from Dauntless. Could Apeiron, admitted power tinker, have achieved as much without a similarly limitless cape to serve as inspiration? Did the link even exist, or was it just a convenient parallel for conveying the effect?
In the end, it didn't particularly matter, beyond providing a scale for the effect. He had seen the assessments. Dauntless was projected to be able to function at the level of the Triumvirate within two to three years, with continued growth projected beyond that. For those with awareness of such things, he stood as a counterpoint to the concerns over Eidolon's progressively diminishing feats. Even with the potential of a point of diminishing returns, the versatility of Dauntless's power provided the possibility of supplementing for Eidolon's decline.
With that scale of power in play, that potential, could this really accomplish the impossible? Provide assurance against the one implacable threat that loomed over everyone on the planet? Did he even dare to risk asking?
He did. There was no question. The day, it had been more emotional than Uppercrust anticipated. To be fair, one could not really predict how they would react to life changing experiences coming in sequence. But despite that, he was still Uppercrust, leader of the New York Elite. An organization he had helped to found and stewarded through greater trials than any man could have anticipated. He held firm with a dying body against every threat and challenge that presented itself. He would not falter against a single question, no matter how significant.
"The item… Thurin-Ist." The book seemed to thrum in his hand at the sound of its name. "Does its effect protect against any attempt at precognition?" His breath briefly hitched in his throat as he forced himself to continue. "Can it… block the Simurgh?"
He watched without breathing as Apeiron gave him a slow nod. "It can." He said with gravity. The admission and the certainty with which it was delivered caused Uppercrust to briefly feel lightheaded. Fortunately, he recovered before the instinctive reaction of years of monitoring of his physical condition could spur into action.
"You are certain?" He asked. It was, he realized, a pointless question. There was no way to provide assurance beyond Apeiron's own assessment.
"I am." Apeiron said. "That has been a concern of mine for quite some time." He turned towards the window, looking out over the city as the midday sun streamed down. "Without getting into too much detail, I had an understanding of the scope of my power from the beginning. The risk presented by the Simurgh was one of my primary concerns."
Apeiron had been evasive about the specifics of his situation, quite understandable given the nascent stage of their alliance. The idea that he had understood the scope of growth before him was both reassuring and terrifying. It meant that Apeiron had not been blindly drawn to greater power with no context for what he was dealing with, but it also meant the man was operating at severely diminished capacity with the understanding of the eventual role he would need to fill.
"You have been able to defend against her?" He asked, endeavoring to keep his voice steady.
The man gave him another nod. "Some elements of my power provide a minor obscurement effect. As my resources and capacities have grown, I've improved my defenses." His eyes moved to the small device on the table. Privacy field, able to block parahuman abilities.
They had been shielded the entire time. Their whole conversation, every element of it from the moment the field was put in place, it was safe from detection. It was overwhelming. The Simurgh was a constant presence, a threat that rested in the back of everyone's mind. Exposure tracked to the second. Every victim tagged and contained. Every disaster and misfortune examined for her fingerprints. People avoided even thinking about her, avoided mentioning her in anything but the most critical situation, all out of fear of drawing her attention. What was his, what was anyone's response supposed to be, knowing they were finally free of her?
"Fuck that bitch!" The words came out before Uppercrust had even considered them. Crude and tinged with nearly ten years of frustration. In any other situation the departure from decorum would have been mortifying. Here and now, he only felt relieved.
"Ah, my apologies." He said quickly. Still, he felt lighter for the outburst. Under the bubble of frustration that had driven his statement, more complex emotions were churning.
Apeiron had been a source of hope for him, a desperate gamble that had paid off tremendously. Hope was a rare thing in the world, particularly with the epithet of the Simurgh. Hope killer. Inevitability incarnate. She existed as an ironclad assurance against progress, light, and optimism. Any who dared to grow too tall could expect her hand.
Except not anymore. She was blind to them. For the first time since her arrival, since the consequences of her presence became clear, it was possible to work against her, truly work against her.
Any plans to counter the Simurgh were made knowing you were playing with your cards exposed. She would see your intentions and either subvert them or work them into her plans. It was even suspected that she had shifted her strategy following containment procedures, encouraging the walling off of cities. The emotional and material drain of isolating thousands of people becoming just another weapon in her arsenal.
And now there was a chance. There was hope.
"I have lost friends to her actions." He continued, clearing his throat. "It is something of a delicate subject."
Apeiron nodded slowly. "I understand you worked closely with Sphere, before…" Mercifully he didn't elaborate.
"A tragedy, to be sure." He said quickly. Normally he wouldn't be this emotional. Perhaps it was the chemical imbalance Apeiron had warned about. Or perhaps it was merely a consequence of better health, a body strong enough to fully express his feelings. "Doctor Gramme was a good man."
His firm use of the past tense went unnoted.
"That protection was the primary reason I made Thurin-Ist for you." Apeiron explained. "The rest of the features are mostly quality of life improvements." Uppercrust wasn't able to keep the shock off his face. Apeiron merely shrugged. "It wasn't actually more difficult to improve them, and I thought they might help with the task ahead of you."
Without taking his eyes off Apeiron, Uppercrust held out the book and triggered the transformation, the 'mechashift' effect, as Apeiron referred to it. Wood and metal bloomed into existence as Thurin-Ist grew past even the scale of the writing desk. When the process finally stopped an array of connected work surfaces filled the once-spacious office.
The work tables were covered in tools and equipment, though none of it looked to date from later than the Victorian era, which was in line with the aesthetics of their design. In addition to multiple workstations containing everything from chemistry sets to metal lathes, there was a vast array of cabinets, drawers, and shelves. Some acting as storage beyond what should be possible without serious and direct parahuman involvement, some containing even more tools or materials.
Uppercrust also couldn't help but notice that the arrangement of the stations was slightly different than the last time they had been deployed, seemingly adjusted to the layout of the room and the different placement they found themselves in. It was a sign of adaptation on the part of the item, which was an element that was as concerning as it was convenient. Anticipation of one's needs was an excellent quality in an assistant, but seeing it from a newly created object was slightly unsettling.
Or was something that felt like it should be unsettling. There was an aspect to Apeiron's work, something that could be noticed on a superficial level, but interacting with it up close it was undeniable. There was an elegance to the design. Every aspect balanced perfectly, flowing from form into function. Elements that should have been unnerving, either from their unnatural nature of concerns regarding borderline sentient action, instead blended into the whole. There was a rightness and certainty that permeated the work.
Evaluated objectively there were qualities that should have been unsettling, but the fact was that they simply weren't. That, unfortunately, created something of a feedback loop. Uppercrust knew warning signs to look out for when dealing with enhanced objects and memetic effects. He would recognize a sign of risk, evaluate and dismiss it, then quickly recognize another point of potential concern. It was a loop that could only be broken by immersing in the work in question, sinking into the certainty of the design.
The strength of the design was completely apparent with the full display of Thurin-Ist's capabilities. The mobile, deployable workshop was an unquestionable masterpiece. It would have been a treasure for any tinker, even without the further enhancements provided by Apeiron's craftsmanship. The fact that the assembled tools and equipment outshone even the best modern manufacturing facilities was just another element of the impossibility of the work. In fact, thanks to some additional unspecified effect, apparently any material could be worked like iron using the provided equipment, opening possibilities for creative applications of both advanced tinker alloys and extremely delicate materials.
"I must say, your standards for what amounts to 'quality of life' will take some getting used to." Uppercrust chided. "And I have rarely been in a position to say as much."
Truly, it was far more typical for him to be the one showering a prospective tinker with resources and luxury. Perhaps this was some kind of karmic balance for the number of tinkers he had ushered into the ranks of the Elite, often right under the noses of the Protectorate.
"That is something I'm still adjusting to myself." Apeiron said. He panned his eyes across the workstation, though without any hint of the wonder that Uppercrust couldn't keep from his own expression. "Honestly, this was something of a rush job. I could have done better in my workshop, but I didn't want to delay things, particularly with those protections involved. Still, it should do for now."
"Yes." Uppercrust said in a flat tone. "I believe I will be able to 'make do'." He dropped his head slightly. "And I thank you for this, sincerely. A number of the elements presented can be quite overwhelming, but I do not want to give the impression of anything but my most sincere thanks."
"Don't worry about it." Apeiron said flippantly. Seeing Uppercrust's expression he continued. "Seriously. I know the scope of what I asked of you. This should help. If the conveniences free up time to address other matters, then that is within the bounds of our agreement." He gave Uppercrust a firm look. "And I was serious about what I said. If I can supplement for the losses incurred by dealing with your bad actors, I am happy to do so. I don't want you delaying action for the sake of something I can make up for."
"I understand your meaning." He assured Apeiron. Purges that would result in financial losses or reduced access to a physical resource could be easily supplemented by Apeiron. Unfortunately, many such actors were retained due to their connections or the utility of their powers. Neither were as simple to address. Still, with a deft hand a surplus of one resource could address a deficit of another. It was possible other factions might question the flow of money and materials, but hopefully the matter would be long resolved before anything could be done. Particularly if he was able to work freely again, and at his full capacity.
His eyes drifted to the materials provided by the work table. Everything from simple screws and fasteners to bar stock and metal samples. "A question regarding the materials inventory. Is that projected material, or drawn from some finite reserve?"
"It's conjured." Apeiron confirmed. "But the method is much more stable than most material generation abilities. You shouldn't run into any problems using it, but if you have any concerns you can fill out a requisition form for anything you need." He gestured to the drawer containing what Uppercrust was prepared to bet was a replenishing supply of the documents.
That was another point, another minor miracle. Thurin-Ist was linked to Apeiron, or at least his workshop. Or would be, once things were put in place. There were assorted effects. Writing that could be passed like text messages. Mirrors linked for direct conversation, like something out of a fairy tale, and the cabinets of the workbench…
Apeiron had explained them as being analogous to the Vanishing Cabinets from the Harry Potter series of films. Not something he followed to any great degree, though a certain amount of cultural osmosis was impossible to avoid. Enough capes would reference the series with respect to their abilities, and there was always the Adepts playing up fraudulent magical abilities for all they were worth.
Still, the metaphor wasn't as important as the mechanics. Items could be transferred to and from the workbench. To and from Thurin-Ist in general, given the versatility of its storage space. Apeiron had made it clear that if any material or part was needed, it would only require a request to be submitted.
"That offer was more than generous, but I would not wish to inundate you with petty requests." He said politely. Apeiron just shook his head.
"Unfortunately, those powers that helped to create all this tend to make mundane assembly a touch difficult." He explained. "I won't be handling your requests directly. We'll set up a system for automating them." He paused, seeming to consider something. "Or the Matrix will handle it."
There seemed to be some private joke there, a source of amusement that Uppercrust wasn't privy to. Apeiron had been exceptionally conservative with details regarding his teammates, despite feeling comfortable making a unilateral decision regarding Uppercrust's offer. The team dynamic of the Celestial Forge was difficult to feel out, standing in contrast to the vast majority of parahuman organizations Uppercrust had encountered. Still, it wasn't an unstable arrangement by any metric, so best to leave unaddressed for the moment.
In all honesty, Uppercrust had to admit that the gravity of the offer was still sinking in. An effective promise of any resource, from chemical compounds to rare isotopes, all a single requisition away. Once again, he was reminded of the sales tactics thrown at new tinkers to rope them into the Protectorate or Elite. Promises of unlimited resources on tap with no obligations, only for the fine print of the offer to hit them later, drowning them in concerns of budgetary limits, safety assessments, and documentation of work.
Somehow, Uppercrust doubted there would be any such limits on this offer, not with access to controlled elemental synthesis sufficient to effectively throw away a ton of gold. The only limit was likely to be the size of the cabinets in question.
"Something amusing?" Apeiron asked.
"No, just considering the volume constraints I would be limited to with those cabinets." He replied.
"If that's a problem we can work around it." Apeiron assured him. "I can facilitate conventional delivery or larger equipment. If the request is urgent, there are some transportation technologies that could be deployed." He explained in complete sincerity.
"Uh, yes. I will keep that in mind." Apeiron had a grace and easy manner, at least when he wasn't facing off against his enemies. There was a disarming element to it, making it possible to forget who you were dealing with. Even being in his good graces was a turbulent state of existence.
Uppercrust was reminded of legends of genies or fey creatures, where slight errors in the wording of a wish or phrasing of a request could result in no end of misery. The odd comment about the difficulty of sourcing titanium composite reflector arrays for the civic shields could well see a complete set delivered to the hotel lobby within the hour, providing Apeiron didn't have some method of making them appear directly in the hotel room itself.
While that was undoubtedly the kind of problem one wished to have, it bore the challenges of working under a powerful benefactor. The gulf between your own capacities and those of your patron, leaving you to either lean upon them for every request, or find yourself struggling with otherwise trivial issues wrought by their assistance.
Despite everything that had been provided, the excluded elements were far more telling. Apeiron had utilized a heretofore unseen ability to enhance basic items, effectively supplementing for the lack of advanced technology. The complete lack of such technology. While Apeiron had been exceedingly generous with support, there was a particular character to what was provided, namely a lack of anything that would tie directly back to him.
No engineered items or scientific principles had been shared. There were no pieces of his technology that Uppercrust could directly analyze, just items empowered by secondary effects. Even the miraculous enhancement of Uppercrust's tinker abilities existed in isolation.
Thurin-Ist was a titanic force multiplier, but what it multiplied was Uppercrust's own capabilities. Any works that he deployed would be consistent with his demonstrated specialization. There might be suspicion as to their origin and the speed at which they were deployed, but most people were more likely to assume the deployment of some hidden reserve of equipment or a secret project coming to fruition, not the assistance of the Celestial Forge. Apeiron's style was as recognizable as a fingerprint. It could be seen clearly in every aspect of Thurin-Ist, but would be absent from any subsequent works.
The task before him would be conducted with Apeiron's support, but with Uppercrust's works. There was something appropriate about that. The same technology that served as the foundation for the Elite as an organization, being directed to its salvation. Saved from itself rather than an external power, but saved all the same.
Uppercrust smiled as he moved to collapse the workbench, but found it already in the process of folding itself into its journal form. When the compression completed it practically leapt into his hand. Any surprise on Uppercrust's part only served to amuse Apeiron.
"Well, I believe our business is complete. Should we depart?" Uppercrust asked, turning to the door.
"I believe so." He said, collecting the privacy device. Uppercrust's eyes tracked the pocket-sized miracle hungrily. His fingers tightened around Thurin-Ist, his own shield from the Simurgh, but he couldn't help but worry for the safety of the rest of his organization.
Apeiron followed his gaze and paused, the device in his hand. With some reluctance, he turned towards Uppercrust.
"I know you're concerned." He said. "The effect from Thurin-Ist is exceptionally powerful. It should shield those in your direct vicinity, and at least partially extend to actions they take on your behalf." He lifted the field generator. "This would provide an extra level of assurance, but the technology is exceptionally specialized. Used incorrectly and you might as well set up a temporal signal flare. I would rather avoid the risk."
"Of course." Uppercrust said quickly. The way his concern had betrayed him was embarrassing, but it was the Simurgh. An impossible challenge, suddenly addressed through a pair of tiny trinkets.
But he relented. There had been a level of concern when Apeiron talked about the device, something absent from his regard for any other technology. In a way, that caution was reassuring. Not everything was trivial for Apeiron. The capacity to block the Simurgh's gaze was an achievement, but one with enough risk that he felt the need to extend specific care. Whatever eldritch principles had achieved such a feat, Uppercrust was prepared to respect them fully.
They exited the office to find Yellowjack engaged in conversation with Survey. Ferrona watched the conversation from nearby while Jacob stood ready near the door. At their arrival the assembled capes quickly rose to their feet.
"Sir…?" Yellowjack began, trailing off as he watched Uppercrust's movements. He entered the room with long, comfortable strides, the kind of steps he would normally only be able to manage in the immediate aftermath of one of Scapegoat's better treatments. Looks of understanding spread through the room.
"I take it negotiations were successful?" Survey asked in a sweet voice as she gracefully rose from her chair. The movement caused silver hair to bounce across her shoulders and highlighted the exacting fit of her costume. Uppercrust realized he had stopped dead in the middle of the room and thankfully passed it off as an intentional move as Survey made her way towards them, swaying slightly with each step of her high-heeled shoes.
"Quite successful." Apeiron replied, approaching Survey with complete indifference to the woman's charms.
Beforehand, Uppercrust had appreciated Survey's appearance on a largely aesthetic level. Now he found himself involuntarily appreciating it in a far more basic manner as his body decided to communicate the extent of its recovery through a cold start of systems that had been largely dormant since his teenage years.
"I'll brief you on the details." He turned, nodding briefly to Uppercrust and the other Elite capes. "Thank you for your hospitality. I look forward to our further collaboration, but I must be going."
"By all means," Uppercrust replied, wrestling down sophomoric biological reactions with a lifetime's worth of willpower. "And I will be sure to keep you apprised of the progress of your request."
"I appreciate that." He said as Survey slid up next to him. He graciously extended his arm and she daintily rested her hand on it. Then, with a barely audible popping sound, they were gone.
Uppercrust found himself blinking furiously. The presumed teleportation effect was so smooth and sudden that it proved to be slightly disorienting for the people in the room. Though, that could have been due to the intensity of the attention being directed at Survey as she vanished, leaving nothing but phantom images of loveliness in their eyes.
Ferrona looked at the reactions of the men in the room and scoffed. There was a critical look from Yellowjack and it occurred to Uppercrust that Ferrona had positioned herself to get a rather unobstructed rear view of Apeiron prior to his vanishing. She shrugged her shoulders at the accusation. "Fine, that was a very pretty man."
"Something of a theme in the Celestial Forge." Yellowjack admitted. He turned to Uppercrust with a more serious expression. "I am fairly certain no active stranger effect is employed, but the level of aesthetic control and management of tangential elements are aligned to elicit specific reactions."
"I think it is fairly obvious what kind of reactions Survey elicits." Ferrona commented. Jacob flushed slightly while Yellowjack did his best to ignore her.
"Sir?" Jacob asked in an uncertain tone. "Is it done? I mean, were you able to...?"
In response Uppercrust smiled and cast his cane away. With a final command the last of his support fields dropped and he stood before them, entirely under his own power. There was no shortage of wonder at the confirmation, even after his earlier display. He took in a deep breath of crisp air, filling his lungs and feeling the strength and steadiness in his muscles.
He could see Yellowjack's genuine relief at the display, along with Ferrona's excitement. Unlike Jacob they were privy to the machinations with the factions of the Elite. They knew what his recovery would mean for both their cell and the organization as a whole.
For Jacob, it was still significant, but he hadn't been with them long enough to understand the personal or professional significance of the event. Still, he was apt at reading the mood of the room and responded with pride and professionalism.
"What's next, Sir?" He asked. "Now that you're recovered?"
The question was innocent, almost casual, but it had a weight to it. What did Uppercrust want to do? There were so many things he needed to do, items screaming for his attention. Prior commitments didn't vanish just because of his recovery, and he would need to manage both Apeiron's assignment and the political balance between the Elite executive. But what did he want? Now that he had the health and physical ability, what would he pursue as his first objective as a healthy man?
"Hamburger." He said.
Jacob blinked and tilted his head slightly. "Sir?"
Years of a restricted diet, plate after plate of bland, inoffensive food came flooding back to him in a wave of gray nothing. He knew exactly what he wanted.
"Hamburger." He turned to Jacob. "This is a university town with a large blue-collar population. Somewhere in this city there is a restaurant that specializes in large amounts of greasy food. Their name will probably have some kind of veiled profanity or reference to grease or unsanitary conditions. It is quite likely they will have some kind of eating contest or other means to justify a ridiculous platter of food. Most likely they will be located within walking distance of the college or near some kind of common ground with high local foot traffic, probably fairly insulated from centers of tourism. A park, waterfront area, or public shopping area."
He gave Jacob a serious look. "I want you to find that restaurant, or the closest thing to it, and I want you to order everything on their menu." His stomach rumbled at the thought. A genuine rumble of anticipation, not the unsteadiness in digestion he had become accustomed to managing. "That includes whatever item they have attached to any eating contest." He paused, considering the likely volume of food. "And a six-pack of beer. Cold."
"Yes sir, I will see to it right away." With a nod Jacob quickly left the room, leaving Uppercrust alone with Yellowjack and Ferrona. In the absence of the young cape the level of formality dropped slightly. Never to the point of disrespect, but there was a good reason why Yellowjack and Ferrona had accompanied him to Brockton Bay. They had more than earned their place.
Yellowjack sighed as he opened the door to the suite's bedroom, revealing the array of medical equipment assembled there. "I trust you'll at least allow me to complete a medical workup before you attempt to consume enough grease to turn your large intestine into a slip-and-slide?" He asked.
"Of course." Uppercrust smiled and followed Yellowjack into the room with Ferrona trailing behind. Ferrona took position by the door as Yellowjack began the medical workup.
"I'm guessing this wasn't a complicated procedure for you?" She asked as Yellowjack worked his way through various tests and sensor systems.
"Not in the slightest." He confirmed. "As far as I could tell, it was the same method used for Weld and his treatments during his debut conflict." He paused. "And his self-medication."
"Did he actually confirm what the blue lines are?" Yellowjack asked as he continued to work. The medical devices pulsed with the faint buzz of his power, a sign of his extended awareness during the examination.
"He was willing to confirm it was based in nanotechnology, but offered no further clarification." Uppercrust explained. "Beyond confirming that the obstacles that impeded other tinker's attempts at medical nano-treatments did not apply to him."
"Hardly a surprise." Ferrona commented. "So, you're fully healed? No more emergency treatments or truncated schedules or medical contingencies?"
"In my personal opinion and Apeiron's assessment, I believe I am. Now if we have a consensus from Yellowjack?" Uppercrust directed his question towards the armored cape.
Yellowjack callously set aside a tinker tech medical scanner and turned to face them. "Full recovery, to the best of my ability to judge. No sign of deterioration at any level." He shook his head. "Really, this is more than recovery." He pulled up a readout on a tablet. "You've put on thirty-five pounds, mostly muscle, but with healthy fat reserves. Higher bone density as well."
"Really?" Ferrona looked at Uppercrust with a critical eye. "But what about…" She gestured towards his suit.
Yellowjack indicated towards the outer layer of the scan. "Apeiron adjusted the costume, including the integrated technology. Shouldn't be obvious, but everything it was concealing it's now basically showing off. We'll need to deal with your reserve costumes and civilian clothing ourselves."
"A minor inconvenience." Uppercrust said. He had felt the strength in his body, the solidness in muscles, but without any change in the fit of his costume he had dismissed it as an artifact of the healing process. "So, a clean bill of health?"
Yellowjack scoffed. "I'd say you had the body of a teenager, but I'm aware of the current fitness standards in American high schools, so that's probably under-calling things."
"Really? But he looks-" Ferrona started, but Yellowjack waved her off.
"Fitness of a teenager. He didn't literally de-age him, but it's a safe bet there's no one his age who's anywhere close to as healthy." Yellowjack continued. "Probably not even half his age."
"Quite the endorsement." Uppercrust said with a smile.
"I have readings on cardiovascular health, lung capacity, and muscle composition. Would you like a list of Olympic events you could probably qualify for? Because that's what we're talking about here." Yellowjack prodded.
"I don't believe that will be necessary." Uppercrust said with a slight smile.
Yellowjack leaned back. "Well, at least I can't fault you on the value you got for selling our souls."
"Don't be so dramatic." Ferrona chided.
He just shrugged his armored shoulders. "Saved Uppercrust, possibly saved the Elite, but we're living on the word of Apeiron now."
"The entire world is living on the word of Apeiron, and has been since the Ungodly Hour." Uppercrust interjected. "The only difference is we have a direct line, and will actually see some benefits from the arrangement."
"Yes, the arrangement." Yellowjack turned to Uppercrust. "I take it he took the deal as offered?" Uppercrust nodded. The man took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Well then, I trust you didn't send Jacob away just to secure enough cholesterol to roll back the bulk of Apeiron's medical treatments. This is something big." Uppercrust inclined his head again. "Alright, let's hear it. What does the Celestial Forge want from us?"
He could see the concern in Yellowjack's eyes, and the more controlled worry from Ferrona. Despite their recent encounter with Survey, they knew Apeiron by reputation, and had enough experience to know what to expect from powers of that level. Or powers of the level Apeiron was perceived to be. The book sitting in Uppercrust's jacket pocket had caused him to reassess that scale several times over.
"Apeiron had a single request, both as a condition for further cooperation, and a test of our commitment to the agreement." Uppercrust explained. Ferrona and Yellowjack leaned in. "He wants us to clean house."
Yellowjack blinked while Ferrona seemed to have stopped breathing. "Excuse me? You mean he…"
"He requested that we address the more contentious members of our cell. Well, he specifically used the term 'monstrous', which should help in outlining his parameters in this." Uppercrust replied.
"That…" Yellowjack trailed off and Uppercrust could practically see the man's thought process. The localized clairvoyance granted by his power made him an incredible information asset, but also left him privy to many of the darker elements of cape life. Over his long career he had learned to turn away from such things, but never fully accepted them. It was one of the key reasons their working relationship had developed so well.
"That's considerably better than it could have been." He continued. "There will be costs and significant difficulty in addressing some elements. Investigation necessary to confirm suspicions for others." Uppercrust saw Ferrona's anxious movement at Yellowjack's words, but she remained silent for the moment. "We will need to devote considerable resources towards this, and even with your recovery, it will leave us vulnerable to other cells. More so, if news of your improved condition provokes a response."
"The resource issue is one Apeiron has offered to address." Uppercrust said. "Fortunately, he sees the value in the allegiance of a functional cell, compared to a crippled group of outcasts. Any cost incurred by the removal of a troublesome element, he has offered to compensate for, if able."
"And you're confident he will follow through on this?" Yellowjack asked. It was probably less due to concern about Apeiron's intentions or capabilities and more the product of years of dealing with tight fisted executives who thought the payment date on an invoice was a gentle suggestion. Able and willing to provide support didn't not always mean such was treated as a priority.
"There is a ton of gold bullion sitting in the office." Uppercrust said casually. "An advance payment, for expenses that might be incurred."
"Gold?" Yellowjack asked. "Is it-?"
"Apeiron assured me it is fabricated material, the product of elemental synthesis." Uppercrust said, preempting the question. "He demonstrated matter projection technologies for comparison. Still worth verification of its integrity, but I don't anticipate any problems."
"Alright." He could see Yellowjack updating his assessments. "Approximately fifty-three million. Not significant to the bottom line, but useful as a flexible asset. And you expect more to be available?"
Uppercrust smiled and took the embossed leather folder from his jacket pocket, opening it to show the notebook. "Apeiron's work." He explained, as if the design left any doubt. "Among other things, a means of contacting him, should additional resources be needed."
"He had it prepared for you?" Yellowjack asked. "Was he planning to take the deal? Did he know about it?"
"No, assembled on the spot." The image of the starlight hammer bloomed in his mind. "Rather an improvement over the techniques used against Leet's robots."
"I suppose that's to be expected. Is it integrated technology? Or some kind of totemic item?" Yellowjack asked, examining the book. He raised a hand and Uppercrust could hear the faint buzz signaling the preparation of his power, but he quickly relented. Instinctual deployment in the face of unknown factors had served them well over the years, but he knew when to restrain himself.
"Closer to the latter. Apeiron recognized the situation we are in, both in respect to this upcoming task and the complexities with other cells. Additionally, with his concerns in the city he wished to keep our association quiet for the time being." Uppercrust explained, flicking open the book.
"A sensible precaution, though I don't know how long it will hold." Yellowjack replied. "The amount of powers directed at us-"
"Will not be an issue." Uppercrust shot back. "In addition to other effects, the primary function of this item is the obstruction of precognitive thinker effects."
It was rather amusing how stunned Yellowjack was by the pronouncement. "He can do that?" He asked in an unsteady pitch of voice.
"Apparently so, which I'm sure will come as quite a surprise to the various organizations convinced of his passivity." Uppercrust said with amusement. After enduring Apeiron's impossibility it was quite entertaining being on the other side of such pronouncements. "And there are further features included in this item."
Without direct prompting the book unfolded into its full workstation form. The already crowded room quickly filled to capacity as every available space was consumed by worksurfaces, equipment, and storage cabinets.
After the initial shock Uppercrust walked them through the functions of the item, including the impossible quantity of storage, the requisition system, the scanning effect, the alternate modes, and the enhancement of his own abilities. The significance of that point was well understood, along with its implications.
Settled back in the main suite, Uppercrust flicked through the book while Yellowjack wrestled with the situation. Ferrona remained quiet and pensive, but hadn't raised her point just yet. It was understandable, but a significant departure from her usual approach to such matters.
"Alright." Yellowjack said. "This is a considerably more manageable situation."
"Yes, a mobile workshop, power enhancement, and the promise of infinite resources does rather balance the scales. Along with the information management promised by Apeiron." He said, flicking through pages of staff personal reports.
"You are certain Apeiron didn't access our systems? Or Survey?" Yellowjack asked. "That information is unusually comprehensive."
"I don't believe Apeiron had anything to gain by concealing such a detail from us. He claimed to have utilized so many enhancement abilities during the assembly that it wasn't worth listing them individually. It's reasonable to assume this kind of information management is within his capabilities." Uppercrust mused.
"And yet it was a casual construction? No indication it was planned in advance" Yellowjack pressed.
Uppercrust shook his head. "No sign that I could pick up. Though he did have a name for it. Thurin-Ist."
Yellowjack scrunched his nose at Uppercrust's mangled pronunciation of the unfamiliar word. "I don't suppose he spelled that for you?"
"Not as such-" Uppercrust cut himself off as the pages flipped towards the front of the book, showing a beautifully illuminated title page with the word 'Thurin-Ist' spelled out in immaculate script.
"Well, there you have it." He said simply as Yellowjack peered at the book. "Thurin-"
"Thurin-Ist." He said, with much more precise pronunciation. "It's Sindarin. Tolkien's elf language."
"Ah, yes, the Morgoth branch of the Adepts." Villains were far less concerned about copyright violations than heroes or rogues. A fair share of intellectual properties had become tainted by associations that were no fault of their own.
Yellowjack looked something up on his tablet as he replied. "I know Apeiron has indulged in such references before, but I wouldn't have expected…" He paused. "Found it. Secret Lore. Thurin and Ist."
"A rather fitting name." Uppercrust said, and felt the book shift slightly in his hands.
"A touch overt." Yellowjack commented. "And more juvenile than I would have expected from Apeiron."
At Yellowjack's words the pages began flipping of their own accord, settling on a recreation of Yellowjack's own file. Specifically, an evaluation citing him as obstinate, dismissive of others, and difficult to work with. Those specific sections were brightly highlighted.
Yellowjack looked at the page along with Uppercrust and cleared his throat. "First, I must once again state that the evaluation in question was based on out of context events and accounts from individuals who had ongoing conflicts with myself and the organization. Secondly, setting aside the logistics of acquiring such a file, was that response automated, or evidence of some level of self-determination?"
"I am not certain." Uppercrust admitted. "I can reach out for clarification, but given the nature of the item, it is perhaps best to err on the side of caution." He glanced down. "And respect?"
"Ah, yes. I apologize for any issued offense, and express my appreciation for the assistance rendered to my employer." Yellowjack said carefully. It might have been his imagination, but the book seemed to settle slightly at the words.
"Now, I believe we have some matters of importance to address." He said, leaning back. "Specifically, both the identification of individuals and the means of removal."
"Sir?" Ferrona ventured. "If I might-"
"Ferrona." He said with a smile. "I believe you would be the ideal candidate to serve Mara her termination notice."
Ferrona's eyes widened. "Bloody Mara." She said in a half-whisper.
"As she has regrettably become known. And a prime candidate for the beginning of our project." Uppercrust replied.
Ferrona looked between Uppercrust and Yellowjack, her expression shifting from shock to anger. "You knew."
Yellowjack let out a breath. "Please understand that not everyone who predates you in this organization is a half-blind dinosaur. It is my job to know things." At the prompting of Ferrona's hard gaze, he continued. "I suspected, and knew at least as much as you, even with your investigations. Not enough to take action, but enough to mitigate further damage."
"But now we can act? The threshold has changed?" Ferrona said defiantly.
"It has, drastically." Uppercrust confirmed. "What happened to your brother was monstrous. Your efforts in uncovering the truth and your devotion to the organization have been commendable." He gave her a direct look. "I want to assure you; I was not delaying matters to secure your services. Even with Mara's connections, clear evidence would have been enough to turn the other executives. She could have been removed without issue."
"But now?" Ferrona asked.
"Now those issues are of little importance. Please, take whatever assets you require to see this through." He paused. "Though I would appreciate it if you could conduct matters in a manner that does not immediately alert Blueblood."
"At least until she misses their next hotel date." Yellowjack muttered.
"Um, yes sir." She stood up. "With your permission, I would like to begin making some calls."
"Of course. Please see to matters immediately." He assured her. Ferrona gave a quick nod before hurrying out of the room.
"She'll be fine." Yellowjack assured him. "She's been planning this literally since the moment she joined."
Uppercrust let out a long breath. "Perhaps Apeiron had a point, if my best cape's loyalties are based on multi-year revenge plots against my employees."
"Mara is a blight. Someone was going to take her out regardless. You have at least six schemes against her, Ferrona's was just the most meticulous." Yellowjack replied. "But she's just the most obvious target."
"Monster and traitor." Uppercrust shook his head. "At least she was a useful line to feed information to Blueblood's faction."
"His faction should hold, at least long enough for us to get things in order. Bastard Son has that drone hidden in the support staff. We'll need to run interference, ensure nothing makes it back to him." Yellowjack checked over his intelligence reports. Uppercrust experimentally flicked through the pages of Thurin-Ist, stopping on a section containing the very same intelligence reports.
"We shouldn't expect any immediate action from Bastard Son. He'd been focused on some internal project. Collecting capes and specialists with a focus on chemistry or material science. No information on the nature of what he's developing as yet." Yellowjack continued.
The effect of dozens of experts granted tool mastery had yielded surprising results before, but given the unstable nature of the man's power, there was no telling what he might be trying to achieve. "We'll look into it, but our focus needs be on our own cell."
Yellowjack nodded. "I don't believe every case will require a response as visceral as Mara. Less prominent members we can probably expose and hand over to authorities. Tangential associations with such practices, enablers and the like, can be traded away to other cells." He looked up with a smile. "Uppermost has overly invested in Alaska and isn't seeing a return yet. He'd be willing to take almost any trade if we sweeten it enough."
"Gold is a handy medium for that kind of thing." Uppercrust agreed. "Do you feel it would be prudent to bring Agnes Court into our confidence?"
"No." Yellowjack said firmly. "At least not at this time. I know you have a strong relationship, and her loyalties are clear, but our position is too sensitive at the moment. We need to be able to address Apeiron's requirements without drawing attention or alerting the other factions to your recovery."
Uppercrust nodded. "Yes. Fortunately, it will be easy enough to maintain a façade of normality. This city has more than enough obligations to occupy my time." At least the time that it was assumed he had available. He would need a fraction of the rest and recovery he previously did.
In fact, taking on some token obligations would leave most parties to assume he had no energy to spare. "I believe I will attend Garment's event tomorrow. Please handle the details." He considered things further as Yellowjack nodded. "In fact, I believe they have expressed an interest in speakers and presentations."
"I will alert them of your offer." Yellowjack replied, shifting to one of the laptops.
The short notice had left attendance up in the air for many parties, but his presence would bring representatives of the mayor's office at the very least. Additionally, Director Piggot would no doubt feel compelled to outnumber any Elite capes by a wide margin. And of course, it would be another opportunity to meet with Garment.
Recent reports had demonstrated an even greater understanding of fashion-based applications from the inhuman cape. Custom fabrics and flexible displays, constructed with both reliability and precision. He wondered if she'd be open to a collaboration?
Images of the inspiration wrought from his first exposure to the drafting table floated back to him. It was waiting, all the tinker resources he could want. That first innovation, the secret behind Narwhal's fields, it could be taken so much further. The precise mapping of fields to her body could be emulated, recreated.
It had the potential to revolutionize personal forcefield systems, but there were other possibilities. Lower power, more reliable systems could emulate the exact pattern of Narwhal's crystal placements. The idea of Narwhal launching a force field based fashion line in collaboration with Garment as a promotion of his own technology… it had a certain appeal.
And not just because it would involve supermodels wearing nothing but crystalline force fields.
Uppercrust shook off the thoughts. At the very least he could say his endocrine system was fully recovered, and probably performing better than it ever had. He might be as healthy as a teenager, but he didn't need any other juvenile diversions, not with the significance of upcoming events. Every step he took would be essential in maintaining the balance of power.
It was a nice thought, but he had to admit to himself, with Apeiron in play, balance wasn't really something anyone can count on. Not anymore. But at least, for once, the scales seemed poised to tip in his favor.
(Author's note: Planned preamble ended up as its own interlude. Points were earned, so for those interested the rolls were Capstone, Magitech, Size, Vehicles, Time, Personal Reality.)
Jumpchain abilities this chapter:
Divine Weapon (Asura's Wrath) 300:
You have a legendary weapon forged by the smiths of heaven or found in the hot blood of the earth. In either case, it is nighunbreakable and has a unique quality or power.
As an example Wailing Dark, Argus's sword, can extend to an outlandish length and with sufficient mantra, cut through a moon. Mooncutting feats require Mantra Level 5 at minimum.
Pipes Pipes Pipes (Personal Reality) 100:
Purchasing this provides your Warehouse with enough plumbing fixtures to turn the entire volume of your Personal Reality into one massive pool… or anything below that. This provides clean running water with any reasonably common additives you like (chlorine, glacial milk, fluoride), but does not provide a limitless supply, nor does it heat the water. By default, the amount of water this system can produce per day is 1 billion liters or one megaton of water or a block of water 100 meters on a side, and the default temperature of this water is 25 degrees Celsius. It can support any civilian infrastructure on the same scale as Mexico City or Tokyo. Comes only with the basic hookups. You'll need a plumber to do the actual piping. We hear Mario's very good. Bathrooms not included. Purchasing this supplies all facilities inside your Personal Reality with water feeds, and if you've Got the Powa, it will supply hot and cold running water as well.
Waterworld (Personal Reality) 300:
This Pipes Pipes Pipes Upgrade provides you with all the water you'll ever need. Every day this massive Hydrocore Tap can generate enough H2O in any natural form to cover Luna in seas 10 meters deep… let's call it 500,000,000 cubic kilometers of water. Of course, throughput is going to be a bitch, so the Hydrocore comes with a Global targeting computer and up to a million hoses each capable of pumping out 500 cubic kilometers of water a day… or 5.8 million tons of water a second… or 29 times the flow rate of the Amazon River… each. If this isn't enough water for you, you might be obsessed.
Dynamic Waterworks (Personal Reality) 100:
This is a strange one, but say you have an infinite source of some liquid and you want it pumped from wherever you source it through your Personal Reality, this Pipes Pipes Pipes Upgrade is for you. The plumbing hookups for your Reality now support up to six additional inputs from sources you must personally supply, and run those feeds through your Reality. If you have Central Control, they can even be mixed in precise ratios at each distribution point. So, say you had an infinite supply of cocoa and an infinite supply of peppermint schnapps… you could set the system to dispense cocoa from all the brown faucets, peppermint schnapps from all the red & white faucets, and spiked hot chocolate toddies from the brown & red faucets… and could even tell it to make the mix in your office stronger than the mix in the staff break-room. While this can be combined with Water World to a degree, that degree is only to use the hose network to dispense a reasonably vast quantity of 'unlimited liquid x'... say enough chocolate to make a small river… not to flood the planet… unless your source for that unlimited liquid specifies 'absolutely unlimited'... generally speaking, if it's for personal or even industrial use… it's not good enough. Global usage at the very limit required for full Water World Integration. An additional 6 hook-ups costs -50 WP.
Uppercrust reviewed the drafting tools assembled before him. The subtle elements of the design, the shape, texture, even smells, they transported him back in time. Graphite and drafting paper. Courses in technical drawing, taken before computer aided design had been the standard for engineering students. Old professors with dusty sleeves guiding eager students through the art, the true art, of capturing precise physical reality within the bounds of a sheet of paper.
It was one of his better memories. Settling in for work, managing small movements that didn't stress or exhaust him. He didn't know if it could be said that he had a talent for the craft, but he was proficient enough to excel in the coursework. To polish the skill to a reasonable degree.
It was a common assumption that tinkers arose from those with technical backgrounds. Uppercrust was well aware of how erroneous that assumption was. He was also aware of how the gap tended to close following ones triggering as a tinker. Technical understanding was an undeniable asset to the work. Only the most outlandish tinkers could function off nothing but the strength of their power, and even then would be almost useless in any collaborative project.
There was almost some dark humor in it. Those gifted with knowledge and skills beyond the greatest mortal engineers and scientists throwing themselves into entry level courses in the very fields they had been blessed with. Often if only to allow them to properly communicate the principles of their devices without needing to make up new scientific terms and systems of measurement, but there were benefits beyond that. The inspiration that came from expanded understanding of the world could open avenues of your own power that you would never have imagined.
That was what he was feeling now. The collection of tools in the portfolio before him seemed to draw out inspiration from the very depths of his soul. There was a burning desire to put pen to paper, to take up the compass or T-square and set to work. Every item in the kit, from the most mundane pencil to the most technical measurement device was assembled with a precision and beauty that was shocking to behold. Subtle ornamentation was included everywhere, from the engravings on the tools to the embossed leather of the case. Rather than detract, the decorative features either flowed perfectly into the technical elements of the design, or somehow enhanced the utility of the tools.
He had felt the power in the simple items. The way they drew out elements of his own power, granting focus, control, and a clarity of purpose he rarely experienced. That alone would have been of more value than could be put into words, because in the world of parahumans, power was paramount.
It was a display, a confirmation of the exact concerns that had been leveled regarding the potential of a tinker specializing in powers. Tinkers already operated on an escalation curve. It was an element known even to the general public. The 'build up' stage, assembling tools and resources. The research and experimentation needed to bring your work past the clumsy steps of the freshly triggered.
Uppercrust's own struggles with the initial stages of his power were a distant memory, but he had seen enough young tinkers in his career to be constantly reminded of that stage of development. The experimental works, assembled from stripped appliances, household chemicals, and whatever junk could be salvaged or stolen. Often the first step in cobbling together a functional lab or workshop, but just as often used in some ill-conceived debut attempt. The cape world was not a stable place, and necessity often demanded action before one was prepared for what they would be facing.
Sometimes using those desperate inventions was the only path available. Despite the support of the Elite, and the somewhat more restrictive offers of the Protectorate, tinker abilities were difficult to safely monetize. Combined with the risks associated with being a new and unprotected tinker and there was an understandable drive to secure resources and funding as quickly as possible. To try to get on the escalation curve that put tinkers in a category of their own.
From the outside it looked like that curve, the ability to build up and improve your capabilities, was a free ride once the initial hurdles have been crossed. As usual, reality was a more complicated affair. Very few tinkers were anything close to self-sufficient. A constant flow of resources was necessary just to maintain their workshops, much less produce new equipment.
Maintenance was also a constant concern, and the commitments of such could quickly eclipse all other projects. It was something Uppercrust was well aware of. Even with effectively unlimited resources and a lack of logistical concerns, most of his time was devoted to maintaining his existing systems, with the occasional refinement of design or small personal project.
Even if resources and maintenance commitments could be managed effectively, other limits would present themselves. Projects would balloon in complexity and cost. Inspiration would be more difficult to acquire, needing more research and sources of information. Eventually, the escalation curve would taper off. The point at which it did so varied from tinker to tinker, but it always took shape, driven by the fundamental aspects of their power.
Unless you could direct your works towards those aspects. Change the variables that shaped the curve, rather than the constraints under which it operated. And that was what stood before him. A direct enhancement of his abilities, augmented and amplified by a collection of deceptively simple drafting tools. If that had been the extent of what had been created it would still have been a priceless asset capable of tilting the balance of power on a national level.
But this was Apeiron. Power augmentation, the stable expression of the kind of trump effect that was only seen from the most powerful capes, was just one more feature in his impossible creation.
"And I just place it here?" He asked, gesturing to the drafting paper.
The man nodded as he continued to guide Uppercrust through the features of his work. "There's an element of intent behind it. You don't need to worry about it triggering for everything that brushes against the paper. The whole purpose behind this is information management, so there are a lot of active effects, not just passive properties."
Uppercrust put on a display of following along with Apeiron's explanation, accepting it at face value. In reality, the impossibility of the creation was difficult to process, and was only likely to get more so as the demonstrations continued. He considered that this would likely be easier with a non-tinker or one who had less experience. Uppercrust's personal understanding of the item's casual disregard for every convention and limit of both tinker tech and parahuman abilities was likely working against him.
Regardless, he lifted his cane and rested it on the paper. A brilliantly detailed technical diagram appeared underneath it, lines tracing themselves outward from the point of contact with the drafting pad. He could even hear the faint scratch of graphite as the detail was filled in. Removing his cane, Uppercrust examined the drawing.
It was perfectly accurate, like someone had traced the shadow of his cane and then filled in the detail. It only showed the surface level, but every component was perfectly rendered at one-to-one scale. At Apeiron's prompting, Uppercrust lifted the page, folding it over the pad. The next page showed an exploded view of the forcefield assemblies inside his walking stick. The next one detailed the full length at reduced scale, showing portions of the object that hadn't fit on the first page.
The detail continued, page after page. Every component, every minor part of the assembly perfectly captured in an instant. The finest scanners at his disposal wouldn't have been able to deconstruct the design so quickly and accurately.
"Now, the components marked in red represent points of failure. Areas that will require excessive or ongoing maintenance." Apeiron explained, pointing out sections of the diagrams. "Components highlighted in yellow require additional effects for their assembly, supporting action of your tinker power. They're the portions you'll have to personally oversee."
He nodded slowly. "I am aware of the theories of facilitated construction, but there is considerable debate on the subject." He looked back at the diagrams. "I never expected to see it confirmed with such confidence."
"Tinker powers are complicated." Apeiron explained in a heavy tone of voice. "I have some thoughts on the use of PRT designations for the purposes of power analysis."
Uppercrust smiled. "I doubt they were ever intended to be assessed to quite this level. A simplification of combat engagement protocols, not the final word on the nature of abilities."
"Indeed." He said with a slight nod. "While you get some similarities between tinkers, the classification is too wide for any universal declarations to hold up across the board. The distinction between high level skill thinkers, tinker capes, and capes with totemic powers is nebulous, with a lot of crossover."
Considering the man fit firmly into all three categories, Uppercrust was forced to agree.
"There is some work out there that is pure technology, able to be perfectly replicated if the underlying properties are understood." He explained. "And there are some items that are solely empowered by parahuman abilities. What's thought of as tinker tech falls somewhere between the extremes. Sometimes you have power assisted assembly, either through minor shaker effects altering the properties of the components or just a precision and understanding of the components that would be impossible to conventionally replicate. Sometimes you have external factors supplementing the technology in question, improving the functionality or even facilitating an effect that would otherwise be impossible." He gestured to the drawings. "Understanding where the weak points lie is one of the most important steps in refining your work."
"This assessment, is it an aspect of your abilities?" Uppercrust asked. What the man revealed about passenger theory, or perhaps it should be said what he confirmed about passenger theory, had been as revelatory as it had been concerning.
"To some extent, though the majority was drawn from assessment of Bakuda's works." He replied.
"Ah, the 'chaos tinker'." Uppercrust said. The described methodology had been observed before, but as usual, what was generally held as a potential theory of behavior became hard certainty in Apeiron's mind.
"Her devices can fall anywhere on that scale. It makes analysis and replication a challenge. I suspect that, given the right motivation, she would be able to work with almost anything." He took a slow breath. "With the resources of the ABB, and the support of March's power…"
He didn't need to say more. The damage that had been wrought on the city, culminating in the Ungodly Hour made it clear what a terrifying prospect had been overlooked until it was too late. A tinker, supported by a powerful organization and enhanced by synergy with an external power.
Just as he was being. Uppercrust picked up a masterfully crafted scribing gauge and felt the connection to his passenger bloom. Power, power beyond even his own lofty limits. Ideas flowed forth, ready to be committed to the page. Improvements for the defensive systems that were integrated into his cane. New applications for civic shields. So many ideas, so much potential.
In a flash there was a moment of revelation. Narwhal, the way her forcefields formed composite barriers. The way thousands of independent fields traced to a single point of origin without overwhelming the emitter. Tracking movement and allowing adjustment and reconfiguration on the fly. A problem he had wrestled with for years and long since dismissed as some impossible feature of a second trigger unfolded before him.
He wanted to start work immediately. It was the instincts of a lifetime of tinker work. Moments of inspiration, where everything aligned perfectly, were fleeting and valuable. If Apeiron was correct, those moments stood on the whims of their passengers, supplemented by Sechen ranges and environmental factors. At any other time, he would have insisted on getting the ideas down while he was able to capitalize on them.
Now, he didn't have to. He set the tool down and felt the strength of the connection diminish, but not fade completely. The effect was linked to the kit as a whole, not the tools that composed it. Perfect inspiration, on demand, and facilitated through a single object.
There were concerning implications to that. While master concerns had been largely dismissed, Uppercrust couldn't forget the way they had bloomed from a single example of Apeiron's craftsmanship. More personally, you had Bastard Son. The man's ability was well known, as seen through his thralls. Granted power with a single item at the cost of sanity and agency. It was precisely the kind of effect that raised concerns with any promise of power in the cape community.
Not that mind control would even be necessary. Uppercrust remembered Teacher's rise. Even when there were assurances that the skill granted hadn't come with strings attached, he personally didn't trust the man or any of his students. The fact was, power was addictive. Even if Teacher hadn't been able to turn his students into puppets, the draw of what he could grant would have been enough to keep people desperate for his favor. Apeiron could grant items that unlocked the hidden potential of a tinker, of potentially any cape. He would need no lever of control beyond the threat of taking them away.
Uppercrust closed the drafting kit, hiding the miraculous instruments within a masterful leather case. Then, with great but probably unnecessary care, he closed it again, folding the case into itself. It quickly compressed from the size of a large briefcase to a small leather folder. He cautiously opened the folder, revealing a small notebook the size of a day planner, with a selection of writing tools stored opposite it.
"Now, you can find those plans in the book by turning to the correct sections." Apeiron instructed. The casualness with which he explained the features of his creation did nothing to undercut the majesty of what had been produced. Still, if Uppercrust was going to get caught up at every impossibility he would never get through this.
He grasped the book and pressed his thumb against the pages, letting them flick past. Two things which were immediately apparent were the speed at which the pages turned and the fact that a book that size should not be able to contain so many pages. Uppercrust was not navigating by index or seeking a specific page, but the moment he stopped he saw the designs of his forcefield cane laid out on the page. Flipping through the next few pages showed the subsequent breakdowns of the design, including highlighted sections.
"This is the effect you described?" Uppercrust guessed. "The one that enhances tools to the point of modern technology?" It neatly explained the lack of inclusion of any device from the last hundred years. If a drafting kit was able to function as well as a 3D scanner, then what function would a notebook take on? Laptop? PDA? Cell phone?
"That's part of it." He explained. "There are more effects in play than just that. It serves as the baseline before my other powers take effect, and there are refinements beyond that. But yes, if you applied that ability in isolation to a notebook you'd end up with something on the level of a modern equivalent in terms of data storage and word processing."
That had been another revelation freely shared with Uppercrust. Not a surprise by any means, but Apeiron had confirmed the presence of multiple discrete abilities. It had been a necessity of explaining exactly what had been created in that flash of starlight.
Items built by Apeiron were enhanced by a significant number of effects. So many effects that the man had claimed it wasn't worth listing them individually, instead referring to them in terms of benefits such as quality, efficiency, resilience, and additional features.
A specific effect that had been explained was the ability to produce simple tools that performed on the level of modern technology. The idea of a scythe with the functionality of a combine harvester was already impressive enough, but seeing it applied to something as simple as a book was what truly drove the point home. The tiny notebook had data management and search functions exceeding a modern computer system, and that was just the most basic element of its functionality.
"You said the items stored are still available?" Uppercrust asked. Skepticism seemed badly misplaced at this point, but by all appearances it seemed to be impossible.
Apeiron just nodded. "The tools and anything put in the workbench or writing desk is still accessible. If you turn to the inventory list…" He prodded.
Once again Uppercrust flicked the pages and one again they flew past faster and in greater numbers than should have been possible. When the pages stopped on an itemized list of every tool included in any form of the kit he noted that, by all appearances, it was open to a point about halfway through the book. Just like it had been at the last section, and every other section that he had seen.
Somehow inquiring about the actual page count of the tiny volume didn't seem like it would be a particularly productive endeavor.
"So, if you turn from components to stored items…" With barely any prompting the pages turned again, listing the inventory, consisting of the single item Uppercrust had placed as a test of the feature.
'Gold Bar (1kg) qt. 1'
"So how do I…" Uppercrust's voice dropped off as the pages turned of their own accord. There, on the new page, stood a perfect drawing of the bar that had been stored in the item's larger form. It was a pencil drawing, but impossibly detailed, capturing texture, shading and reflections that seemed to almost move in the light of the room. With the way the gleaming of the bar was so perfectly captured it almost seemed possible to reach out and touch…
Uppercrust was holding a one-kilogram bar of gold. And he was looking at an empty page. Flipping back to the inventory list, he found it empty. Trying to account for the exact moment when the bar had transitioned from a flat drawing to a physical presence proved unproductive. His mind seemed to slide past the event. Something that was probably for the best all things considered.
He set the piece of metal to his side, briefly marveling at the ease of the motion. No strain of trembling of his hand, no creeping exhaustion from the aftermath. Simple motions carried out in the absence of the obstacles that had plagued his every moment.
And he didn't even have time to drink in that miracle before another was dropped into his lap. With a thought he pulled open the folder, watching as it expanded past the size of the drafting kit before settling into an elegant Victorian writing desk of rich, lacquered wood. It stood on intricately carved legs and featured four drawers with immaculately sculpted pulls neatly arranged along the front. The back of the desk featured an assembly of shelves containing writing supplies, including an expanded set of tools compared to what could be found in the drafting kit.
He opened one of the drawers. It was larger than it should have been, given the profile of the desk, but that was barely worth note at this point. He placed the gold bar inside, closed the drawer, and folded the desk back into a notebook. Flicking to the inventory again, he saw the bar of gold listed once more.
He decided not to test the retrieval function this time, and fortunately the book elected not to advance independently.
"Is there a limit on the storage? Some restrictions I should be concerned about?" There were few points of concern that had been raised regarding the item or its use. Apeiron seemed to be approaching the instruction more out of concern that some utility might be overlooked than out of any safety considerations.
"None that you're likely to encounter." The man said frankly. "Overloading the storage might make retrieval of specific items more difficult, but this is really for personal convenience. You're not likely to hit that point unless you're using it for bulk storage or transport." He explained. "If you need something like that I can make something purpose built for that effect."
"Ah, yes." He said, working to keep his composure. Working directly with Apeiron, effectively seeing things from the inside, made it clear just how badly every estimation of the man's capacities were under-calling the situation. Aspects tacked on for the purposes of 'personal convenience' would have been sufficient to define the career of any other cape.
Because everything here, the enhancement of his power, the miraculous functionality of antique technology, the impossible storage, it was secondary to the true purpose of the item. The notebook, drafting kit, writing desk, and workbench combined had a purpose, and a name. Apeiron had emphasized that, a Name, with the capital letter somehow clearly pronounced.
Thurin-Ist. Uppercrust didn't recognize it, but the way Apeiron said it, with precise pronunciation and absolute conviction, it left no doubt. For most tinkers naming their creation was a harmless idiosyncrasy. For Apeiron, it carried a weight that Uppercrust felt on a level beyond the physical. The slim volume containing the notebook was light for its size, much less for something that contained an entire workbench, but it held significance, and that made it heavy on an entirely different level.
Without prompting, he opened the book and flicked the pages. They stopped on the familiar layout of a day planner. On the right-hand page, the day was broken down by hours, neatly outlining his scheduled appointments coming and commitments. A schedule he had never added to the book. It had simply propagated itself, neatly and accurately. And on the left page the exact same information was presented, with the vital distinction that it was written in pencil, rather than ink.
Apeiron looked at the pages and gave a grim nod. "Remember the obscurement is going to lean towards inaction and reactionary moves. If you leave it as is, precogs aren't going to see anything beyond your usual schedule and responses to outside action. If you want to put forward a false prediction, you can write it in your schedule, but there are risks to that."
Risks. As if there were no risks to obscuring precognitive powers to begin with. Obscurement, not negation. False information provided to thinker powers that peered into the future. It provided a window, a period of safe action and preparation before the deviations could be recognized. Then a second period before the usual obstruction effects could be accounted for and the effect was traced to its source.
The focus on 'information management' hadn't been in reference to his tinker power, or the designs that could be extracted by the drafting kit, or the seemingly endless capacity of the simple notebook. It was information management in the sense of the classic response to thinkers. Limiting the data available to them. Through the creation of a 'simple' book, Apeiron had sheltered Uppercrust from the thinkers who would obstruct his plans. He had granted a window for his objectives, the cleaning of house, to be completely successful.
But this was bigger than the internal politics of an Elite cell. Uppercrust knew the reach of thinker powers, the way they shaped engagements and turned encounters on their head. He knew about the major powers that lurked out in the world, the influence they had, from the stories of Cauldron's boogeyman to the shadow of the Simurgh herself.
When he asked for clarification, Apeiron simply assured him of its effectiveness against all precognitive powers. No clarifications or qualifiers. A bit of explanation about the mechanics, binding of energies into physical structures in a method that harkened to Dauntless. A method that was possibly derived from Dauntless. Could Apeiron, admitted power tinker, have achieved as much without a similarly limitless cape to serve as inspiration? Did the link even exist, or was it just a convenient parallel for conveying the effect?
In the end, it didn't particularly matter, beyond providing a scale for the effect. He had seen the assessments. Dauntless was projected to be able to function at the level of the Triumvirate within two to three years, with continued growth projected beyond that. For those with awareness of such things, he stood as a counterpoint to the concerns over Eidolon's progressively diminishing feats. Even with the potential of a point of diminishing returns, the versatility of Dauntless's power provided the possibility of supplementing for Eidolon's decline.
With that scale of power in play, that potential, could this really accomplish the impossible? Provide assurance against the one implacable threat that loomed over everyone on the planet? Did he even dare to risk asking?
He did. There was no question. The day, it had been more emotional than Uppercrust anticipated. To be fair, one could not really predict how they would react to life changing experiences coming in sequence. But despite that, he was still Uppercrust, leader of the New York Elite. An organization he had helped to found and stewarded through greater trials than any man could have anticipated. He held firm with a dying body against every threat and challenge that presented itself. He would not falter against a single question, no matter how significant.
"The item… Thurin-Ist." The book seemed to thrum in his hand at the sound of its name. "Does its effect protect against any attempt at precognition?" His breath briefly hitched in his throat as he forced himself to continue. "Can it… block the Simurgh?"
He watched without breathing as Apeiron gave him a slow nod. "It can." He said with gravity. The admission and the certainty with which it was delivered caused Uppercrust to briefly feel lightheaded. Fortunately, he recovered before the instinctive reaction of years of monitoring of his physical condition could spur into action.
"You are certain?" He asked. It was, he realized, a pointless question. There was no way to provide assurance beyond Apeiron's own assessment.
"I am." Apeiron said. "That has been a concern of mine for quite some time." He turned towards the window, looking out over the city as the midday sun streamed down. "Without getting into too much detail, I had an understanding of the scope of my power from the beginning. The risk presented by the Simurgh was one of my primary concerns."
Apeiron had been evasive about the specifics of his situation, quite understandable given the nascent stage of their alliance. The idea that he had understood the scope of growth before him was both reassuring and terrifying. It meant that Apeiron had not been blindly drawn to greater power with no context for what he was dealing with, but it also meant the man was operating at severely diminished capacity with the understanding of the eventual role he would need to fill.
"You have been able to defend against her?" He asked, endeavoring to keep his voice steady.
The man gave him another nod. "Some elements of my power provide a minor obscurement effect. As my resources and capacities have grown, I've improved my defenses." His eyes moved to the small device on the table. Privacy field, able to block parahuman abilities.
They had been shielded the entire time. Their whole conversation, every element of it from the moment the field was put in place, it was safe from detection. It was overwhelming. The Simurgh was a constant presence, a threat that rested in the back of everyone's mind. Exposure tracked to the second. Every victim tagged and contained. Every disaster and misfortune examined for her fingerprints. People avoided even thinking about her, avoided mentioning her in anything but the most critical situation, all out of fear of drawing her attention. What was his, what was anyone's response supposed to be, knowing they were finally free of her?
"Fuck that bitch!" The words came out before Uppercrust had even considered them. Crude and tinged with nearly ten years of frustration. In any other situation the departure from decorum would have been mortifying. Here and now, he only felt relieved.
"Ah, my apologies." He said quickly. Still, he felt lighter for the outburst. Under the bubble of frustration that had driven his statement, more complex emotions were churning.
Apeiron had been a source of hope for him, a desperate gamble that had paid off tremendously. Hope was a rare thing in the world, particularly with the epithet of the Simurgh. Hope killer. Inevitability incarnate. She existed as an ironclad assurance against progress, light, and optimism. Any who dared to grow too tall could expect her hand.
Except not anymore. She was blind to them. For the first time since her arrival, since the consequences of her presence became clear, it was possible to work against her, truly work against her.
Any plans to counter the Simurgh were made knowing you were playing with your cards exposed. She would see your intentions and either subvert them or work them into her plans. It was even suspected that she had shifted her strategy following containment procedures, encouraging the walling off of cities. The emotional and material drain of isolating thousands of people becoming just another weapon in her arsenal.
And now there was a chance. There was hope.
"I have lost friends to her actions." He continued, clearing his throat. "It is something of a delicate subject."
Apeiron nodded slowly. "I understand you worked closely with Sphere, before…" Mercifully he didn't elaborate.
"A tragedy, to be sure." He said quickly. Normally he wouldn't be this emotional. Perhaps it was the chemical imbalance Apeiron had warned about. Or perhaps it was merely a consequence of better health, a body strong enough to fully express his feelings. "Doctor Gramme was a good man."
His firm use of the past tense went unnoted.
"That protection was the primary reason I made Thurin-Ist for you." Apeiron explained. "The rest of the features are mostly quality of life improvements." Uppercrust wasn't able to keep the shock off his face. Apeiron merely shrugged. "It wasn't actually more difficult to improve them, and I thought they might help with the task ahead of you."
Without taking his eyes off Apeiron, Uppercrust held out the book and triggered the transformation, the 'mechashift' effect, as Apeiron referred to it. Wood and metal bloomed into existence as Thurin-Ist grew past even the scale of the writing desk. When the process finally stopped an array of connected work surfaces filled the once-spacious office.
The work tables were covered in tools and equipment, though none of it looked to date from later than the Victorian era, which was in line with the aesthetics of their design. In addition to multiple workstations containing everything from chemistry sets to metal lathes, there was a vast array of cabinets, drawers, and shelves. Some acting as storage beyond what should be possible without serious and direct parahuman involvement, some containing even more tools or materials.
Uppercrust also couldn't help but notice that the arrangement of the stations was slightly different than the last time they had been deployed, seemingly adjusted to the layout of the room and the different placement they found themselves in. It was a sign of adaptation on the part of the item, which was an element that was as concerning as it was convenient. Anticipation of one's needs was an excellent quality in an assistant, but seeing it from a newly created object was slightly unsettling.
Or was something that felt like it should be unsettling. There was an aspect to Apeiron's work, something that could be noticed on a superficial level, but interacting with it up close it was undeniable. There was an elegance to the design. Every aspect balanced perfectly, flowing from form into function. Elements that should have been unnerving, either from their unnatural nature of concerns regarding borderline sentient action, instead blended into the whole. There was a rightness and certainty that permeated the work.
Evaluated objectively there were qualities that should have been unsettling, but the fact was that they simply weren't. That, unfortunately, created something of a feedback loop. Uppercrust knew warning signs to look out for when dealing with enhanced objects and memetic effects. He would recognize a sign of risk, evaluate and dismiss it, then quickly recognize another point of potential concern. It was a loop that could only be broken by immersing in the work in question, sinking into the certainty of the design.
The strength of the design was completely apparent with the full display of Thurin-Ist's capabilities. The mobile, deployable workshop was an unquestionable masterpiece. It would have been a treasure for any tinker, even without the further enhancements provided by Apeiron's craftsmanship. The fact that the assembled tools and equipment outshone even the best modern manufacturing facilities was just another element of the impossibility of the work. In fact, thanks to some additional unspecified effect, apparently any material could be worked like iron using the provided equipment, opening possibilities for creative applications of both advanced tinker alloys and extremely delicate materials.
"I must say, your standards for what amounts to 'quality of life' will take some getting used to." Uppercrust chided. "And I have rarely been in a position to say as much."
Truly, it was far more typical for him to be the one showering a prospective tinker with resources and luxury. Perhaps this was some kind of karmic balance for the number of tinkers he had ushered into the ranks of the Elite, often right under the noses of the Protectorate.
"That is something I'm still adjusting to myself." Apeiron said. He panned his eyes across the workstation, though without any hint of the wonder that Uppercrust couldn't keep from his own expression. "Honestly, this was something of a rush job. I could have done better in my workshop, but I didn't want to delay things, particularly with those protections involved. Still, it should do for now."
"Yes." Uppercrust said in a flat tone. "I believe I will be able to 'make do'." He dropped his head slightly. "And I thank you for this, sincerely. A number of the elements presented can be quite overwhelming, but I do not want to give the impression of anything but my most sincere thanks."
"Don't worry about it." Apeiron said flippantly. Seeing Uppercrust's expression he continued. "Seriously. I know the scope of what I asked of you. This should help. If the conveniences free up time to address other matters, then that is within the bounds of our agreement." He gave Uppercrust a firm look. "And I was serious about what I said. If I can supplement for the losses incurred by dealing with your bad actors, I am happy to do so. I don't want you delaying action for the sake of something I can make up for."
"I understand your meaning." He assured Apeiron. Purges that would result in financial losses or reduced access to a physical resource could be easily supplemented by Apeiron. Unfortunately, many such actors were retained due to their connections or the utility of their powers. Neither were as simple to address. Still, with a deft hand a surplus of one resource could address a deficit of another. It was possible other factions might question the flow of money and materials, but hopefully the matter would be long resolved before anything could be done. Particularly if he was able to work freely again, and at his full capacity.
His eyes drifted to the materials provided by the work table. Everything from simple screws and fasteners to bar stock and metal samples. "A question regarding the materials inventory. Is that projected material, or drawn from some finite reserve?"
"It's conjured." Apeiron confirmed. "But the method is much more stable than most material generation abilities. You shouldn't run into any problems using it, but if you have any concerns you can fill out a requisition form for anything you need." He gestured to the drawer containing what Uppercrust was prepared to bet was a replenishing supply of the documents.
That was another point, another minor miracle. Thurin-Ist was linked to Apeiron, or at least his workshop. Or would be, once things were put in place. There were assorted effects. Writing that could be passed like text messages. Mirrors linked for direct conversation, like something out of a fairy tale, and the cabinets of the workbench…
Apeiron had explained them as being analogous to the Vanishing Cabinets from the Harry Potter series of films. Not something he followed to any great degree, though a certain amount of cultural osmosis was impossible to avoid. Enough capes would reference the series with respect to their abilities, and there was always the Adepts playing up fraudulent magical abilities for all they were worth.
Still, the metaphor wasn't as important as the mechanics. Items could be transferred to and from the workbench. To and from Thurin-Ist in general, given the versatility of its storage space. Apeiron had made it clear that if any material or part was needed, it would only require a request to be submitted.
"That offer was more than generous, but I would not wish to inundate you with petty requests." He said politely. Apeiron just shook his head.
"Unfortunately, those powers that helped to create all this tend to make mundane assembly a touch difficult." He explained. "I won't be handling your requests directly. We'll set up a system for automating them." He paused, seeming to consider something. "Or the Matrix will handle it."
There seemed to be some private joke there, a source of amusement that Uppercrust wasn't privy to. Apeiron had been exceptionally conservative with details regarding his teammates, despite feeling comfortable making a unilateral decision regarding Uppercrust's offer. The team dynamic of the Celestial Forge was difficult to feel out, standing in contrast to the vast majority of parahuman organizations Uppercrust had encountered. Still, it wasn't an unstable arrangement by any metric, so best to leave unaddressed for the moment.
In all honesty, Uppercrust had to admit that the gravity of the offer was still sinking in. An effective promise of any resource, from chemical compounds to rare isotopes, all a single requisition away. Once again, he was reminded of the sales tactics thrown at new tinkers to rope them into the Protectorate or Elite. Promises of unlimited resources on tap with no obligations, only for the fine print of the offer to hit them later, drowning them in concerns of budgetary limits, safety assessments, and documentation of work.
Somehow, Uppercrust doubted there would be any such limits on this offer, not with access to controlled elemental synthesis sufficient to effectively throw away a ton of gold. The only limit was likely to be the size of the cabinets in question.
"Something amusing?" Apeiron asked.
"No, just considering the volume constraints I would be limited to with those cabinets." He replied.
"If that's a problem we can work around it." Apeiron assured him. "I can facilitate conventional delivery or larger equipment. If the request is urgent, there are some transportation technologies that could be deployed." He explained in complete sincerity.
"Uh, yes. I will keep that in mind." Apeiron had a grace and easy manner, at least when he wasn't facing off against his enemies. There was a disarming element to it, making it possible to forget who you were dealing with. Even being in his good graces was a turbulent state of existence.
Uppercrust was reminded of legends of genies or fey creatures, where slight errors in the wording of a wish or phrasing of a request could result in no end of misery. The odd comment about the difficulty of sourcing titanium composite reflector arrays for the civic shields could well see a complete set delivered to the hotel lobby within the hour, providing Apeiron didn't have some method of making them appear directly in the hotel room itself.
While that was undoubtedly the kind of problem one wished to have, it bore the challenges of working under a powerful benefactor. The gulf between your own capacities and those of your patron, leaving you to either lean upon them for every request, or find yourself struggling with otherwise trivial issues wrought by their assistance.
Despite everything that had been provided, the excluded elements were far more telling. Apeiron had utilized a heretofore unseen ability to enhance basic items, effectively supplementing for the lack of advanced technology. The complete lack of such technology. While Apeiron had been exceedingly generous with support, there was a particular character to what was provided, namely a lack of anything that would tie directly back to him.
No engineered items or scientific principles had been shared. There were no pieces of his technology that Uppercrust could directly analyze, just items empowered by secondary effects. Even the miraculous enhancement of Uppercrust's tinker abilities existed in isolation.
Thurin-Ist was a titanic force multiplier, but what it multiplied was Uppercrust's own capabilities. Any works that he deployed would be consistent with his demonstrated specialization. There might be suspicion as to their origin and the speed at which they were deployed, but most people were more likely to assume the deployment of some hidden reserve of equipment or a secret project coming to fruition, not the assistance of the Celestial Forge. Apeiron's style was as recognizable as a fingerprint. It could be seen clearly in every aspect of Thurin-Ist, but would be absent from any subsequent works.
The task before him would be conducted with Apeiron's support, but with Uppercrust's works. There was something appropriate about that. The same technology that served as the foundation for the Elite as an organization, being directed to its salvation. Saved from itself rather than an external power, but saved all the same.
Uppercrust smiled as he moved to collapse the workbench, but found it already in the process of folding itself into its journal form. When the compression completed it practically leapt into his hand. Any surprise on Uppercrust's part only served to amuse Apeiron.
"Well, I believe our business is complete. Should we depart?" Uppercrust asked, turning to the door.
"I believe so." He said, collecting the privacy device. Uppercrust's eyes tracked the pocket-sized miracle hungrily. His fingers tightened around Thurin-Ist, his own shield from the Simurgh, but he couldn't help but worry for the safety of the rest of his organization.
Apeiron followed his gaze and paused, the device in his hand. With some reluctance, he turned towards Uppercrust.
"I know you're concerned." He said. "The effect from Thurin-Ist is exceptionally powerful. It should shield those in your direct vicinity, and at least partially extend to actions they take on your behalf." He lifted the field generator. "This would provide an extra level of assurance, but the technology is exceptionally specialized. Used incorrectly and you might as well set up a temporal signal flare. I would rather avoid the risk."
"Of course." Uppercrust said quickly. The way his concern had betrayed him was embarrassing, but it was the Simurgh. An impossible challenge, suddenly addressed through a pair of tiny trinkets.
But he relented. There had been a level of concern when Apeiron talked about the device, something absent from his regard for any other technology. In a way, that caution was reassuring. Not everything was trivial for Apeiron. The capacity to block the Simurgh's gaze was an achievement, but one with enough risk that he felt the need to extend specific care. Whatever eldritch principles had achieved such a feat, Uppercrust was prepared to respect them fully.
They exited the office to find Yellowjack engaged in conversation with Survey. Ferrona watched the conversation from nearby while Jacob stood ready near the door. At their arrival the assembled capes quickly rose to their feet.
"Sir…?" Yellowjack began, trailing off as he watched Uppercrust's movements. He entered the room with long, comfortable strides, the kind of steps he would normally only be able to manage in the immediate aftermath of one of Scapegoat's better treatments. Looks of understanding spread through the room.
"I take it negotiations were successful?" Survey asked in a sweet voice as she gracefully rose from her chair. The movement caused silver hair to bounce across her shoulders and highlighted the exacting fit of her costume. Uppercrust realized he had stopped dead in the middle of the room and thankfully passed it off as an intentional move as Survey made her way towards them, swaying slightly with each step of her high-heeled shoes.
"Quite successful." Apeiron replied, approaching Survey with complete indifference to the woman's charms.
Beforehand, Uppercrust had appreciated Survey's appearance on a largely aesthetic level. Now he found himself involuntarily appreciating it in a far more basic manner as his body decided to communicate the extent of its recovery through a cold start of systems that had been largely dormant since his teenage years.
"I'll brief you on the details." He turned, nodding briefly to Uppercrust and the other Elite capes. "Thank you for your hospitality. I look forward to our further collaboration, but I must be going."
"By all means," Uppercrust replied, wrestling down sophomoric biological reactions with a lifetime's worth of willpower. "And I will be sure to keep you apprised of the progress of your request."
"I appreciate that." He said as Survey slid up next to him. He graciously extended his arm and she daintily rested her hand on it. Then, with a barely audible popping sound, they were gone.
Uppercrust found himself blinking furiously. The presumed teleportation effect was so smooth and sudden that it proved to be slightly disorienting for the people in the room. Though, that could have been due to the intensity of the attention being directed at Survey as she vanished, leaving nothing but phantom images of loveliness in their eyes.
Ferrona looked at the reactions of the men in the room and scoffed. There was a critical look from Yellowjack and it occurred to Uppercrust that Ferrona had positioned herself to get a rather unobstructed rear view of Apeiron prior to his vanishing. She shrugged her shoulders at the accusation. "Fine, that was a very pretty man."
"Something of a theme in the Celestial Forge." Yellowjack admitted. He turned to Uppercrust with a more serious expression. "I am fairly certain no active stranger effect is employed, but the level of aesthetic control and management of tangential elements are aligned to elicit specific reactions."
"I think it is fairly obvious what kind of reactions Survey elicits." Ferrona commented. Jacob flushed slightly while Yellowjack did his best to ignore her.
"Sir?" Jacob asked in an uncertain tone. "Is it done? I mean, were you able to...?"
In response Uppercrust smiled and cast his cane away. With a final command the last of his support fields dropped and he stood before them, entirely under his own power. There was no shortage of wonder at the confirmation, even after his earlier display. He took in a deep breath of crisp air, filling his lungs and feeling the strength and steadiness in his muscles.
He could see Yellowjack's genuine relief at the display, along with Ferrona's excitement. Unlike Jacob they were privy to the machinations with the factions of the Elite. They knew what his recovery would mean for both their cell and the organization as a whole.
For Jacob, it was still significant, but he hadn't been with them long enough to understand the personal or professional significance of the event. Still, he was apt at reading the mood of the room and responded with pride and professionalism.
"What's next, Sir?" He asked. "Now that you're recovered?"
The question was innocent, almost casual, but it had a weight to it. What did Uppercrust want to do? There were so many things he needed to do, items screaming for his attention. Prior commitments didn't vanish just because of his recovery, and he would need to manage both Apeiron's assignment and the political balance between the Elite executive. But what did he want? Now that he had the health and physical ability, what would he pursue as his first objective as a healthy man?
"Hamburger." He said.
Jacob blinked and tilted his head slightly. "Sir?"
Years of a restricted diet, plate after plate of bland, inoffensive food came flooding back to him in a wave of gray nothing. He knew exactly what he wanted.
"Hamburger." He turned to Jacob. "This is a university town with a large blue-collar population. Somewhere in this city there is a restaurant that specializes in large amounts of greasy food. Their name will probably have some kind of veiled profanity or reference to grease or unsanitary conditions. It is quite likely they will have some kind of eating contest or other means to justify a ridiculous platter of food. Most likely they will be located within walking distance of the college or near some kind of common ground with high local foot traffic, probably fairly insulated from centers of tourism. A park, waterfront area, or public shopping area."
He gave Jacob a serious look. "I want you to find that restaurant, or the closest thing to it, and I want you to order everything on their menu." His stomach rumbled at the thought. A genuine rumble of anticipation, not the unsteadiness in digestion he had become accustomed to managing. "That includes whatever item they have attached to any eating contest." He paused, considering the likely volume of food. "And a six-pack of beer. Cold."
"Yes sir, I will see to it right away." With a nod Jacob quickly left the room, leaving Uppercrust alone with Yellowjack and Ferrona. In the absence of the young cape the level of formality dropped slightly. Never to the point of disrespect, but there was a good reason why Yellowjack and Ferrona had accompanied him to Brockton Bay. They had more than earned their place.
Yellowjack sighed as he opened the door to the suite's bedroom, revealing the array of medical equipment assembled there. "I trust you'll at least allow me to complete a medical workup before you attempt to consume enough grease to turn your large intestine into a slip-and-slide?" He asked.
"Of course." Uppercrust smiled and followed Yellowjack into the room with Ferrona trailing behind. Ferrona took position by the door as Yellowjack began the medical workup.
"I'm guessing this wasn't a complicated procedure for you?" She asked as Yellowjack worked his way through various tests and sensor systems.
"Not in the slightest." He confirmed. "As far as I could tell, it was the same method used for Weld and his treatments during his debut conflict." He paused. "And his self-medication."
"Did he actually confirm what the blue lines are?" Yellowjack asked as he continued to work. The medical devices pulsed with the faint buzz of his power, a sign of his extended awareness during the examination.
"He was willing to confirm it was based in nanotechnology, but offered no further clarification." Uppercrust explained. "Beyond confirming that the obstacles that impeded other tinker's attempts at medical nano-treatments did not apply to him."
"Hardly a surprise." Ferrona commented. "So, you're fully healed? No more emergency treatments or truncated schedules or medical contingencies?"
"In my personal opinion and Apeiron's assessment, I believe I am. Now if we have a consensus from Yellowjack?" Uppercrust directed his question towards the armored cape.
Yellowjack callously set aside a tinker tech medical scanner and turned to face them. "Full recovery, to the best of my ability to judge. No sign of deterioration at any level." He shook his head. "Really, this is more than recovery." He pulled up a readout on a tablet. "You've put on thirty-five pounds, mostly muscle, but with healthy fat reserves. Higher bone density as well."
"Really?" Ferrona looked at Uppercrust with a critical eye. "But what about…" She gestured towards his suit.
Yellowjack indicated towards the outer layer of the scan. "Apeiron adjusted the costume, including the integrated technology. Shouldn't be obvious, but everything it was concealing it's now basically showing off. We'll need to deal with your reserve costumes and civilian clothing ourselves."
"A minor inconvenience." Uppercrust said. He had felt the strength in his body, the solidness in muscles, but without any change in the fit of his costume he had dismissed it as an artifact of the healing process. "So, a clean bill of health?"
Yellowjack scoffed. "I'd say you had the body of a teenager, but I'm aware of the current fitness standards in American high schools, so that's probably under-calling things."
"Really? But he looks-" Ferrona started, but Yellowjack waved her off.
"Fitness of a teenager. He didn't literally de-age him, but it's a safe bet there's no one his age who's anywhere close to as healthy." Yellowjack continued. "Probably not even half his age."
"Quite the endorsement." Uppercrust said with a smile.
"I have readings on cardiovascular health, lung capacity, and muscle composition. Would you like a list of Olympic events you could probably qualify for? Because that's what we're talking about here." Yellowjack prodded.
"I don't believe that will be necessary." Uppercrust said with a slight smile.
Yellowjack leaned back. "Well, at least I can't fault you on the value you got for selling our souls."
"Don't be so dramatic." Ferrona chided.
He just shrugged his armored shoulders. "Saved Uppercrust, possibly saved the Elite, but we're living on the word of Apeiron now."
"The entire world is living on the word of Apeiron, and has been since the Ungodly Hour." Uppercrust interjected. "The only difference is we have a direct line, and will actually see some benefits from the arrangement."
"Yes, the arrangement." Yellowjack turned to Uppercrust. "I take it he took the deal as offered?" Uppercrust nodded. The man took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Well then, I trust you didn't send Jacob away just to secure enough cholesterol to roll back the bulk of Apeiron's medical treatments. This is something big." Uppercrust inclined his head again. "Alright, let's hear it. What does the Celestial Forge want from us?"
He could see the concern in Yellowjack's eyes, and the more controlled worry from Ferrona. Despite their recent encounter with Survey, they knew Apeiron by reputation, and had enough experience to know what to expect from powers of that level. Or powers of the level Apeiron was perceived to be. The book sitting in Uppercrust's jacket pocket had caused him to reassess that scale several times over.
"Apeiron had a single request, both as a condition for further cooperation, and a test of our commitment to the agreement." Uppercrust explained. Ferrona and Yellowjack leaned in. "He wants us to clean house."
Yellowjack blinked while Ferrona seemed to have stopped breathing. "Excuse me? You mean he…"
"He requested that we address the more contentious members of our cell. Well, he specifically used the term 'monstrous', which should help in outlining his parameters in this." Uppercrust replied.
"That…" Yellowjack trailed off and Uppercrust could practically see the man's thought process. The localized clairvoyance granted by his power made him an incredible information asset, but also left him privy to many of the darker elements of cape life. Over his long career he had learned to turn away from such things, but never fully accepted them. It was one of the key reasons their working relationship had developed so well.
"That's considerably better than it could have been." He continued. "There will be costs and significant difficulty in addressing some elements. Investigation necessary to confirm suspicions for others." Uppercrust saw Ferrona's anxious movement at Yellowjack's words, but she remained silent for the moment. "We will need to devote considerable resources towards this, and even with your recovery, it will leave us vulnerable to other cells. More so, if news of your improved condition provokes a response."
"The resource issue is one Apeiron has offered to address." Uppercrust said. "Fortunately, he sees the value in the allegiance of a functional cell, compared to a crippled group of outcasts. Any cost incurred by the removal of a troublesome element, he has offered to compensate for, if able."
"And you're confident he will follow through on this?" Yellowjack asked. It was probably less due to concern about Apeiron's intentions or capabilities and more the product of years of dealing with tight fisted executives who thought the payment date on an invoice was a gentle suggestion. Able and willing to provide support didn't not always mean such was treated as a priority.
"There is a ton of gold bullion sitting in the office." Uppercrust said casually. "An advance payment, for expenses that might be incurred."
"Gold?" Yellowjack asked. "Is it-?"
"Apeiron assured me it is fabricated material, the product of elemental synthesis." Uppercrust said, preempting the question. "He demonstrated matter projection technologies for comparison. Still worth verification of its integrity, but I don't anticipate any problems."
"Alright." He could see Yellowjack updating his assessments. "Approximately fifty-three million. Not significant to the bottom line, but useful as a flexible asset. And you expect more to be available?"
Uppercrust smiled and took the embossed leather folder from his jacket pocket, opening it to show the notebook. "Apeiron's work." He explained, as if the design left any doubt. "Among other things, a means of contacting him, should additional resources be needed."
"He had it prepared for you?" Yellowjack asked. "Was he planning to take the deal? Did he know about it?"
"No, assembled on the spot." The image of the starlight hammer bloomed in his mind. "Rather an improvement over the techniques used against Leet's robots."
"I suppose that's to be expected. Is it integrated technology? Or some kind of totemic item?" Yellowjack asked, examining the book. He raised a hand and Uppercrust could hear the faint buzz signaling the preparation of his power, but he quickly relented. Instinctual deployment in the face of unknown factors had served them well over the years, but he knew when to restrain himself.
"Closer to the latter. Apeiron recognized the situation we are in, both in respect to this upcoming task and the complexities with other cells. Additionally, with his concerns in the city he wished to keep our association quiet for the time being." Uppercrust explained, flicking open the book.
"A sensible precaution, though I don't know how long it will hold." Yellowjack replied. "The amount of powers directed at us-"
"Will not be an issue." Uppercrust shot back. "In addition to other effects, the primary function of this item is the obstruction of precognitive thinker effects."
It was rather amusing how stunned Yellowjack was by the pronouncement. "He can do that?" He asked in an unsteady pitch of voice.
"Apparently so, which I'm sure will come as quite a surprise to the various organizations convinced of his passivity." Uppercrust said with amusement. After enduring Apeiron's impossibility it was quite entertaining being on the other side of such pronouncements. "And there are further features included in this item."
Without direct prompting the book unfolded into its full workstation form. The already crowded room quickly filled to capacity as every available space was consumed by worksurfaces, equipment, and storage cabinets.
After the initial shock Uppercrust walked them through the functions of the item, including the impossible quantity of storage, the requisition system, the scanning effect, the alternate modes, and the enhancement of his own abilities. The significance of that point was well understood, along with its implications.
Settled back in the main suite, Uppercrust flicked through the book while Yellowjack wrestled with the situation. Ferrona remained quiet and pensive, but hadn't raised her point just yet. It was understandable, but a significant departure from her usual approach to such matters.
"Alright." Yellowjack said. "This is a considerably more manageable situation."
"Yes, a mobile workshop, power enhancement, and the promise of infinite resources does rather balance the scales. Along with the information management promised by Apeiron." He said, flicking through pages of staff personal reports.
"You are certain Apeiron didn't access our systems? Or Survey?" Yellowjack asked. "That information is unusually comprehensive."
"I don't believe Apeiron had anything to gain by concealing such a detail from us. He claimed to have utilized so many enhancement abilities during the assembly that it wasn't worth listing them individually. It's reasonable to assume this kind of information management is within his capabilities." Uppercrust mused.
"And yet it was a casual construction? No indication it was planned in advance" Yellowjack pressed.
Uppercrust shook his head. "No sign that I could pick up. Though he did have a name for it. Thurin-Ist."
Yellowjack scrunched his nose at Uppercrust's mangled pronunciation of the unfamiliar word. "I don't suppose he spelled that for you?"
"Not as such-" Uppercrust cut himself off as the pages flipped towards the front of the book, showing a beautifully illuminated title page with the word 'Thurin-Ist' spelled out in immaculate script.
"Well, there you have it." He said simply as Yellowjack peered at the book. "Thurin-"
"Thurin-Ist." He said, with much more precise pronunciation. "It's Sindarin. Tolkien's elf language."
"Ah, yes, the Morgoth branch of the Adepts." Villains were far less concerned about copyright violations than heroes or rogues. A fair share of intellectual properties had become tainted by associations that were no fault of their own.
Yellowjack looked something up on his tablet as he replied. "I know Apeiron has indulged in such references before, but I wouldn't have expected…" He paused. "Found it. Secret Lore. Thurin and Ist."
"A rather fitting name." Uppercrust said, and felt the book shift slightly in his hands.
"A touch overt." Yellowjack commented. "And more juvenile than I would have expected from Apeiron."
At Yellowjack's words the pages began flipping of their own accord, settling on a recreation of Yellowjack's own file. Specifically, an evaluation citing him as obstinate, dismissive of others, and difficult to work with. Those specific sections were brightly highlighted.
Yellowjack looked at the page along with Uppercrust and cleared his throat. "First, I must once again state that the evaluation in question was based on out of context events and accounts from individuals who had ongoing conflicts with myself and the organization. Secondly, setting aside the logistics of acquiring such a file, was that response automated, or evidence of some level of self-determination?"
"I am not certain." Uppercrust admitted. "I can reach out for clarification, but given the nature of the item, it is perhaps best to err on the side of caution." He glanced down. "And respect?"
"Ah, yes. I apologize for any issued offense, and express my appreciation for the assistance rendered to my employer." Yellowjack said carefully. It might have been his imagination, but the book seemed to settle slightly at the words.
"Now, I believe we have some matters of importance to address." He said, leaning back. "Specifically, both the identification of individuals and the means of removal."
"Sir?" Ferrona ventured. "If I might-"
"Ferrona." He said with a smile. "I believe you would be the ideal candidate to serve Mara her termination notice."
Ferrona's eyes widened. "Bloody Mara." She said in a half-whisper.
"As she has regrettably become known. And a prime candidate for the beginning of our project." Uppercrust replied.
Ferrona looked between Uppercrust and Yellowjack, her expression shifting from shock to anger. "You knew."
Yellowjack let out a breath. "Please understand that not everyone who predates you in this organization is a half-blind dinosaur. It is my job to know things." At the prompting of Ferrona's hard gaze, he continued. "I suspected, and knew at least as much as you, even with your investigations. Not enough to take action, but enough to mitigate further damage."
"But now we can act? The threshold has changed?" Ferrona said defiantly.
"It has, drastically." Uppercrust confirmed. "What happened to your brother was monstrous. Your efforts in uncovering the truth and your devotion to the organization have been commendable." He gave her a direct look. "I want to assure you; I was not delaying matters to secure your services. Even with Mara's connections, clear evidence would have been enough to turn the other executives. She could have been removed without issue."
"But now?" Ferrona asked.
"Now those issues are of little importance. Please, take whatever assets you require to see this through." He paused. "Though I would appreciate it if you could conduct matters in a manner that does not immediately alert Blueblood."
"At least until she misses their next hotel date." Yellowjack muttered.
"Um, yes sir." She stood up. "With your permission, I would like to begin making some calls."
"Of course. Please see to matters immediately." He assured her. Ferrona gave a quick nod before hurrying out of the room.
"She'll be fine." Yellowjack assured him. "She's been planning this literally since the moment she joined."
Uppercrust let out a long breath. "Perhaps Apeiron had a point, if my best cape's loyalties are based on multi-year revenge plots against my employees."
"Mara is a blight. Someone was going to take her out regardless. You have at least six schemes against her, Ferrona's was just the most meticulous." Yellowjack replied. "But she's just the most obvious target."
"Monster and traitor." Uppercrust shook his head. "At least she was a useful line to feed information to Blueblood's faction."
"His faction should hold, at least long enough for us to get things in order. Bastard Son has that drone hidden in the support staff. We'll need to run interference, ensure nothing makes it back to him." Yellowjack checked over his intelligence reports. Uppercrust experimentally flicked through the pages of Thurin-Ist, stopping on a section containing the very same intelligence reports.
"We shouldn't expect any immediate action from Bastard Son. He'd been focused on some internal project. Collecting capes and specialists with a focus on chemistry or material science. No information on the nature of what he's developing as yet." Yellowjack continued.
The effect of dozens of experts granted tool mastery had yielded surprising results before, but given the unstable nature of the man's power, there was no telling what he might be trying to achieve. "We'll look into it, but our focus needs be on our own cell."
Yellowjack nodded. "I don't believe every case will require a response as visceral as Mara. Less prominent members we can probably expose and hand over to authorities. Tangential associations with such practices, enablers and the like, can be traded away to other cells." He looked up with a smile. "Uppermost has overly invested in Alaska and isn't seeing a return yet. He'd be willing to take almost any trade if we sweeten it enough."
"Gold is a handy medium for that kind of thing." Uppercrust agreed. "Do you feel it would be prudent to bring Agnes Court into our confidence?"
"No." Yellowjack said firmly. "At least not at this time. I know you have a strong relationship, and her loyalties are clear, but our position is too sensitive at the moment. We need to be able to address Apeiron's requirements without drawing attention or alerting the other factions to your recovery."
Uppercrust nodded. "Yes. Fortunately, it will be easy enough to maintain a façade of normality. This city has more than enough obligations to occupy my time." At least the time that it was assumed he had available. He would need a fraction of the rest and recovery he previously did.
In fact, taking on some token obligations would leave most parties to assume he had no energy to spare. "I believe I will attend Garment's event tomorrow. Please handle the details." He considered things further as Yellowjack nodded. "In fact, I believe they have expressed an interest in speakers and presentations."
"I will alert them of your offer." Yellowjack replied, shifting to one of the laptops.
The short notice had left attendance up in the air for many parties, but his presence would bring representatives of the mayor's office at the very least. Additionally, Director Piggot would no doubt feel compelled to outnumber any Elite capes by a wide margin. And of course, it would be another opportunity to meet with Garment.
Recent reports had demonstrated an even greater understanding of fashion-based applications from the inhuman cape. Custom fabrics and flexible displays, constructed with both reliability and precision. He wondered if she'd be open to a collaboration?
Images of the inspiration wrought from his first exposure to the drafting table floated back to him. It was waiting, all the tinker resources he could want. That first innovation, the secret behind Narwhal's fields, it could be taken so much further. The precise mapping of fields to her body could be emulated, recreated.
It had the potential to revolutionize personal forcefield systems, but there were other possibilities. Lower power, more reliable systems could emulate the exact pattern of Narwhal's crystal placements. The idea of Narwhal launching a force field based fashion line in collaboration with Garment as a promotion of his own technology… it had a certain appeal.
And not just because it would involve supermodels wearing nothing but crystalline force fields.
Uppercrust shook off the thoughts. At the very least he could say his endocrine system was fully recovered, and probably performing better than it ever had. He might be as healthy as a teenager, but he didn't need any other juvenile diversions, not with the significance of upcoming events. Every step he took would be essential in maintaining the balance of power.
It was a nice thought, but he had to admit to himself, with Apeiron in play, balance wasn't really something anyone can count on. Not anymore. But at least, for once, the scales seemed poised to tip in his favor.
(Author's note: Planned preamble ended up as its own interlude. Points were earned, so for those interested the rolls were Capstone, Magitech, Size, Vehicles, Time, Personal Reality.)
Jumpchain abilities this chapter:
Divine Weapon (Asura's Wrath) 300:
You have a legendary weapon forged by the smiths of heaven or found in the hot blood of the earth. In either case, it is nighunbreakable and has a unique quality or power.
As an example Wailing Dark, Argus's sword, can extend to an outlandish length and with sufficient mantra, cut through a moon. Mooncutting feats require Mantra Level 5 at minimum.
Pipes Pipes Pipes (Personal Reality) 100:
Purchasing this provides your Warehouse with enough plumbing fixtures to turn the entire volume of your Personal Reality into one massive pool… or anything below that. This provides clean running water with any reasonably common additives you like (chlorine, glacial milk, fluoride), but does not provide a limitless supply, nor does it heat the water. By default, the amount of water this system can produce per day is 1 billion liters or one megaton of water or a block of water 100 meters on a side, and the default temperature of this water is 25 degrees Celsius. It can support any civilian infrastructure on the same scale as Mexico City or Tokyo. Comes only with the basic hookups. You'll need a plumber to do the actual piping. We hear Mario's very good. Bathrooms not included. Purchasing this supplies all facilities inside your Personal Reality with water feeds, and if you've Got the Powa, it will supply hot and cold running water as well.
Waterworld (Personal Reality) 300:
This Pipes Pipes Pipes Upgrade provides you with all the water you'll ever need. Every day this massive Hydrocore Tap can generate enough H2O in any natural form to cover Luna in seas 10 meters deep… let's call it 500,000,000 cubic kilometers of water. Of course, throughput is going to be a bitch, so the Hydrocore comes with a Global targeting computer and up to a million hoses each capable of pumping out 500 cubic kilometers of water a day… or 5.8 million tons of water a second… or 29 times the flow rate of the Amazon River… each. If this isn't enough water for you, you might be obsessed.
Dynamic Waterworks (Personal Reality) 100:
This is a strange one, but say you have an infinite source of some liquid and you want it pumped from wherever you source it through your Personal Reality, this Pipes Pipes Pipes Upgrade is for you. The plumbing hookups for your Reality now support up to six additional inputs from sources you must personally supply, and run those feeds through your Reality. If you have Central Control, they can even be mixed in precise ratios at each distribution point. So, say you had an infinite supply of cocoa and an infinite supply of peppermint schnapps… you could set the system to dispense cocoa from all the brown faucets, peppermint schnapps from all the red & white faucets, and spiked hot chocolate toddies from the brown & red faucets… and could even tell it to make the mix in your office stronger than the mix in the staff break-room. While this can be combined with Water World to a degree, that degree is only to use the hose network to dispense a reasonably vast quantity of 'unlimited liquid x'... say enough chocolate to make a small river… not to flood the planet… unless your source for that unlimited liquid specifies 'absolutely unlimited'... generally speaking, if it's for personal or even industrial use… it's not good enough. Global usage at the very limit required for full Water World Integration. An additional 6 hook-ups costs -50 WP.
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- Location
- Philippines
HE HAS ARRIVED TO PROVIDE US OUR WEEKLY BREAD
A mobile workstation imbued with secret of steel, a gamer inventory, simmy protection, instant analysis and bluepringing of tinkertech and power boosting? Damn, not bad for something made in seconds.
Also, what godly use could there be for all of that water? ...transmutation fuel?
Also, what godly use could there be for all of that water? ...transmutation fuel?
Oh man. I know exactly how that feels. It's so good to just finally let go of everything and just pig out. No restrictions, no thoughts of the consequences, just pure unadulterated comfort food. Especially after so long.
SiegfriedisOP
Calamity Demon King of Time
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Looks like Uppercrust is joining all the other Earth Bet teens who had their puberty started by Survey.
Do I hear a new ship on the horizon?
- Location
- Miami
Seeing this from Uppercrust's perspective really helped spell out how ridiculous dealing with The Celestial Forge, and Apeiron in particular, would be. Like, just casually handing over a magic tinker drafting workshop that sparks insights into your power and has crazy storage.
He said it right himself, Apeiron is casually handing out things that would make a low to mid level Cape's career.
Corrections
blight
nigh-unbreakable or nigh unbreakable.
Also, those water powers are very funny. I like that he got all of them in one update.
He said it right himself, Apeiron is casually handing out things that would make a low to mid level Cape's career.
Corrections
blight
nigh-unbreakable or nigh unbreakable.
Also, those water powers are very funny. I like that he got all of them in one update.
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So now he has another powerful weapon that can apparently cut through the moon, and he also has near unlimited water. Near unlimited water and also near unlimited energy.
Great chapter as always. The varied reactions were amazing and the dramatic irony is on point.
He says not knowing Apeiron can make his own Cauldron vials.
Well, it can't cut through the moon just yet. He still needs Level 5 Mantra for that and I don't even think he's reached Level 3.
- Location
- SomeWhereElse
Uppercrust was having his world blown away several times over while Apeiron was silently panicking (or being amused over either or) over the entire workshop being reworked for waterslide and pipe travel by his duplicates. The dichotomy is wonderful.
- Location
- Somewhere and Nowhere in a state of super-position
Besides water, the only liquid that he has any significant supply of is Immulsion - which will remain under indefinite containment.
Also the magma and lava from his volcano, but still, does he have any other liquids to use this with? Or any other liquids in V1 of the celestial forge for him to even gain ever?
- Location
- Philippines
The funny thing is, for Uppercrust it's not even comfort food. It's probably the first time he could actually survive eating that much grease, so it was probably one of his proverbial bucket list entries in "If I Had The Chance".
Ironically enough, he already had problems with the energy throughput of the Dyson Sphere alone. Maybe Joe could take the time to dump the water into Mars Aleph and confuse a bunch of rovers over there looking for water?
PrognosticHannya
Far Too Enthusiastic About Etymology
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Anyone remember who Bloody Mara is?
The Great Lord has Giventh unto us a new chapter!
For Uppercrust, he giveth a magical Victorian style work table that is blessed to strengthen his ability to design and build his craft! And the health of a possible Olympic athlete.
And for Aperion, he gets a water system that grants him nearly infinite amounts of water! And a weapon, probably Trauma, that is fit for a Demi-God!
A great chapter but thinking about it I was kinda hoping for maybe something form the Magitech constellation. Because who wouldn't love the sight of Survey casually slinging spells from digitized versions of themselves.
But I love the work still and am hoping to see what's next! Kamui Tetra if she has a human form is probably going to be absolutely adorable if she looks like a pre-teen. If an adult or teenager, then she will be at the level of Survey.
For Uppercrust, he giveth a magical Victorian style work table that is blessed to strengthen his ability to design and build his craft! And the health of a possible Olympic athlete.
And for Aperion, he gets a water system that grants him nearly infinite amounts of water! And a weapon, probably Trauma, that is fit for a Demi-God!
A great chapter but thinking about it I was kinda hoping for maybe something form the Magitech constellation. Because who wouldn't love the sight of Survey casually slinging spells from digitized versions of themselves.
But I love the work still and am hoping to see what's next! Kamui Tetra if she has a human form is probably going to be absolutely adorable if she looks like a pre-teen. If an adult or teenager, then she will be at the level of Survey.
ImperatorV
The Laughing One
- Location
- The Voyaging Realm
OC cape I'm assuming, the name doesn't sound familiar and I have a pretty decent Knowledge(Wildbow) skill.
The Elite has hundreds of capes, we would need new ones at some point.
"The Elite can't just use the name Protectorate, it's copyrighted!"
"What do you mean they're fighting the lawsuit?!"
"Welcome to the Protectorate-"
"Yes, I'm finally a superhero!"
"-of the Elite."
"What."
"Should have read the fine print."
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- Location
- Pennsylvania
Pretty sure that even the volcano won't provide enough liquid to meet that threshold. It is clearly a personal use volcano only.