Gaming the System
(In which Greg Veder's super nerdy gamer dreams come true)
Tutorial 1.1...
(In which Greg Veder's super nerdy gamer dreams come true)
Tutorial 1.1...
Greg Veder vs The World (Worm x The Gamer)
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Tutorial 1.1
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Gaming the System
(In which Greg Veder's super nerdy gamer dreams come true)
Tutorial 1.1
It was still there, to his frustration.
Mocking him as it hung there, ignoring gravity.
It wasn't the first one, either.
One had been there when he woke up.
It remained there when he took a shower.
It didn't vanish when he brushed his teeth, either. Even after spitting a mouthful of water at it, it didn't magically disappear, the frothy spray passing through it and splashing all over his mirror and back onto his face. Oddly enough, it did seem to jump back when he tried to lick it. Greg wasn't sure whether to take that as an insult or not.
It did finally disappear when he prodded it with his toothbrush, so that was something.
Even now, as he sat at the kitchen table, all this new one did was hover in the air a few inches over his mother's blonde head of hair, mocking him and generally being an annoying distraction from his Frosted Flakes.
Susan Veder
Nurse
Lv 9
Odds that I'm hallucinating? Greg paused to think about it, raising a spoon of his favorite cereal to his mouth as he continued to stare at the semi-translucent words hanging in the air across the table from him. Words floating in the air that Mom can't see makes me wanna say yes but...
Greg thought back to the blue screen that had greeted him in his bed when he woke up.
Okay, that one had been super weird too. But at the very least, it had the decency to vanish when he poked it.
Greg wrinkled his nose, slightly annoyed. Already tried poking the one above Mom's head when she sat down. All that got me was a weird look and a bunch of questions.
Although in hindsight, maybe trying to excuse his actions by telling his mother he was "looking for lice in her hair...uh... like a monkey!" was not the best idea he'd ever had. No Mom, I didn't go in your medicine cabinet again.
It's like she thinks I'm five or something. With a mental shrug, Greg glanced around the kitchen, not noticing anything out of the ordinary apart from some terrible wall art someone had gifted his Mom with recently. Okay, no dancing technicolor elephants. I might not have lost all my SAN points just yet.
So, if I'm not crazy, Greg's gaze flicked back to the glowing blue lettering, then how do I explain you? Unless this is some cosmic prank or something...
After a moment, Greg blinked, dropping the spoon back into the bowl as his eyes widened. This a prank, isn't it? Of course, that makes perfect sense. I'm being pranked… by a cape! His eyes widened further as he pieced together the game-like quality of the pop-ups and which cape would - or could - go to that extent for a prank. It's Uber & Leet. It's Uber & Leet!
Blue eyes lit up with barely-repressed glee as Greg forced himself not to let out a happy squeal. As a long-time watcher of their web show and periodical editor of their PHO wiki page, Greg was naturally a huge fan of the gaming and pop-culture themed cape duo. Oh my God, this is the best day ever!
After taking several excited breaths, Greg managed to calm himself down, eyes lowering somewhat as his mouth curled upwards into a self-congratulatory grin. "Okay, come on out, guys!" Greg shouted out. "Joke's over! Love the idea, by the way."
"Greg, sweetheart, who are you talking to?"
Greg snapped back to reality, suddenly aware that this might not be a prank at all and that his mom was still in the kitchen, sitting right in front of him.
"...Uhh, nothing, Mom. Just practicing for Drama club."
"Wait," His mother frowned slightly, a few strands of blonde hair falling into her face as she cocked her head to the side to fix him with a curious stare. "You're in Drama?"
"...no."
Blue eyes narrowed suspiciously, pinning him to his seat.
"I-I mean, no... Wait, Drama, yes! I m-meant, yes! Yes!" Greg mentally slapped himself as he finished stumbling through the sentence, his mom's expression already flashing between confused, annoyed and suspicious. The worst combination.
Raising his arms in a weak shrug, he gave his mom a sheepish expression and tried again. "...no?"
"Greg Lucas Veder," his mom paused, her eyes still pinning him to his seat with the glare all moms seemed to perfect, "what have I said about lies in this house?"
"Aww, M-mom, it's not…" his voice was already cracking as he tried to explain away the weirdness of the last thirty seconds.
"I swear to God, Gregory," Mom didn't let him finish, finger raised and pointing right in his nose. "If you lie again, no games for a week."
Greg sunk down in his seat, a groan on his lips.
Crap on a cracker.
(In which Greg Veder's super nerdy gamer dreams come true)
Tutorial 1.1
It was still there, to his frustration.
Mocking him as it hung there, ignoring gravity.
It wasn't the first one, either.
One had been there when he woke up.
It remained there when he took a shower.
It didn't vanish when he brushed his teeth, either. Even after spitting a mouthful of water at it, it didn't magically disappear, the frothy spray passing through it and splashing all over his mirror and back onto his face. Oddly enough, it did seem to jump back when he tried to lick it. Greg wasn't sure whether to take that as an insult or not.
It did finally disappear when he prodded it with his toothbrush, so that was something.
Even now, as he sat at the kitchen table, all this new one did was hover in the air a few inches over his mother's blonde head of hair, mocking him and generally being an annoying distraction from his Frosted Flakes.
Susan Veder
Nurse
Lv 9
Odds that I'm hallucinating? Greg paused to think about it, raising a spoon of his favorite cereal to his mouth as he continued to stare at the semi-translucent words hanging in the air across the table from him. Words floating in the air that Mom can't see makes me wanna say yes but...
Greg thought back to the blue screen that had greeted him in his bed when he woke up.
Okay, that one had been super weird too. But at the very least, it had the decency to vanish when he poked it.
Greg wrinkled his nose, slightly annoyed. Already tried poking the one above Mom's head when she sat down. All that got me was a weird look and a bunch of questions.
Although in hindsight, maybe trying to excuse his actions by telling his mother he was "looking for lice in her hair...uh... like a monkey!" was not the best idea he'd ever had. No Mom, I didn't go in your medicine cabinet again.
It's like she thinks I'm five or something. With a mental shrug, Greg glanced around the kitchen, not noticing anything out of the ordinary apart from some terrible wall art someone had gifted his Mom with recently. Okay, no dancing technicolor elephants. I might not have lost all my SAN points just yet.
So, if I'm not crazy, Greg's gaze flicked back to the glowing blue lettering, then how do I explain you? Unless this is some cosmic prank or something...
After a moment, Greg blinked, dropping the spoon back into the bowl as his eyes widened. This a prank, isn't it? Of course, that makes perfect sense. I'm being pranked… by a cape! His eyes widened further as he pieced together the game-like quality of the pop-ups and which cape would - or could - go to that extent for a prank. It's Uber & Leet. It's Uber & Leet!
Blue eyes lit up with barely-repressed glee as Greg forced himself not to let out a happy squeal. As a long-time watcher of their web show and periodical editor of their PHO wiki page, Greg was naturally a huge fan of the gaming and pop-culture themed cape duo. Oh my God, this is the best day ever!
After taking several excited breaths, Greg managed to calm himself down, eyes lowering somewhat as his mouth curled upwards into a self-congratulatory grin. "Okay, come on out, guys!" Greg shouted out. "Joke's over! Love the idea, by the way."
"Greg, sweetheart, who are you talking to?"
Greg snapped back to reality, suddenly aware that this might not be a prank at all and that his mom was still in the kitchen, sitting right in front of him.
"...Uhh, nothing, Mom. Just practicing for Drama club."
"Wait," His mother frowned slightly, a few strands of blonde hair falling into her face as she cocked her head to the side to fix him with a curious stare. "You're in Drama?"
"...no."
Blue eyes narrowed suspiciously, pinning him to his seat.
"I-I mean, no... Wait, Drama, yes! I m-meant, yes! Yes!" Greg mentally slapped himself as he finished stumbling through the sentence, his mom's expression already flashing between confused, annoyed and suspicious. The worst combination.
Raising his arms in a weak shrug, he gave his mom a sheepish expression and tried again. "...no?"
"Greg Lucas Veder," his mom paused, her eyes still pinning him to his seat with the glare all moms seemed to perfect, "what have I said about lies in this house?"
"Aww, M-mom, it's not…" his voice was already cracking as he tried to explain away the weirdness of the last thirty seconds.
"I swear to God, Gregory," Mom didn't let him finish, finger raised and pointing right in his nose. "If you lie again, no games for a week."
Greg sunk down in his seat, a groan on his lips.
Crap on a cracker.
Last edited:
Tutorial 1.2
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Tutorial 1.2
He had avoided a grounding.
How?
Greg really wasn't sure, to be honest.
He would like to say that it was most likely his well-reasoned arguments about how being punished for a little white lie was cruel and unusual. It was nice to think that his logical points had spoken to his mother and gotten her to realize how unfair she was being.
However, it was most likely due to the fact that his mother didn't like to see him cry.
Not that he did.
Cry, that is.
No, Greg Veder does not cry.
He begs.
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"Please, mommy, don't take my games."
"Greg…"
"I'm sorry for fibbing. It was a joke. Pleeeeease."
"Greg."
"Mom, it's not fair. You can't do this. I wasn't lying. I was just joking around, Mom."
"Gre-"
"Pleeeeeeeeeease."
"Gregory!"
As she barked his name, Greg flinched and relaxed his grip on his mom's mid-section, pulling back from the one-sided hug. As he stepped away from his mother, he gave her his best smile, the visual spoiled by the wetness all over his face. "Yeah, mom?"
Susan Veder let out a deep sigh, the sound coming from a place of deep frustration. A hand went down to her scrubs to brush off some imaginary dirt before she raised her head again to fix Greg with a tired stare. "Just keep your games, Greg."
Greg lit up, his downtrodden expression replaced with a bright grin in an instant. "Thanks, mom!"
Greg moved in for another hug, only for his mom to stop his forward movement with a palm to his forehead. "Greg, just...." Susan let out another sighh.
"Enough with the hugs, sweetie. Just... go do something. I'll see you when I get home."
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Ugh, that was close.
Greg let out a heavy sigh as he collapsed backwards onto his computer chair, the old thing creaking slightly as he dropped all one hundred and fifteen pounds of himself onto it. Almost got grounded 'cause I couldn't keep my mouth shut.
That's nothing new, though. Greg scrunched up his face as he thought back to all the times his mouth had gotten him in hot water. At least, I got out of it this time. He paused, leaning back in his chair as his face turned down into a frown. Still, this one wasn't even my fault.
Greg spun around in his chair, turning to face his unmade bed as he dropped his chin to rest it on a raised palm. "And I still don't even know what the frick that screen thingy was. Seriously, what was that thing?"
Another one.
Greg leaned forward in his chair, his jaw slowly falling open as he read this new pop-up. Neurons fired off in his head as realization slowly dawned on him as to what this could be. Swallowing a mouthful of nothing, Greg let out a slow, shaky breath. "H-h-ho my God."
Does this mean what I think it means? As carefully as he could, Greg raised a finger to poke the blue screen, the sensation feeling somewhat like a thin plastic film on his finger before it vanished a moment later. I think this means what I think it means.
Greg let out another uncertain breath, picking himself up from his seat slowly. His eyes were wary, but even then, he couldn't suppress the eagerness that he was radiating. I swear to God, if I find out this is a prank, someone is going to die.
Shaking in raw excitement, Greg Veder let himself say the word.
"Menu."
Greg rapidly inhaled as a screen popped into existence right in front of him, the words in front of him sending a feeling of raw excitement through him.
"Holy..."
"...crap on a cracker."
Jaw still hanging open, Greg raised a hand to rub at his eyes to make sure he was actually seeing this. "Please don't be a prank. Please, don't." The whispered words were both eager and desperate, Greg's blue eyes widening as he read each of the words in turn.
"St… stats," Greg muttered, voice suddenly dry.
"...uh-huh." Greg blinked.
After a moment, Greg blinked again, his head moving backwards slowly before dropping back down to stare at his hands. "...uh-huh."
Without even looking behind him, he sat back down in his chair with uncharacteristic listlessness, the blue stat screen moving along with him. Thoughts and ideas rushed through his mind, each and every one of them related to the revelation that he had just experienced.
After a few long moments, Greg glanced back up to stare directly into the screen again. As he tilted his head, a gleam of excitement was visible in his eye and his mouth flashed into a grin.
"God exists and he's a huge nerd."
He had avoided a grounding.
How?
Greg really wasn't sure, to be honest.
He would like to say that it was most likely his well-reasoned arguments about how being punished for a little white lie was cruel and unusual. It was nice to think that his logical points had spoken to his mother and gotten her to realize how unfair she was being.
However, it was most likely due to the fact that his mother didn't like to see him cry.
Not that he did.
Cry, that is.
No, Greg Veder does not cry.
He begs.
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"Please, mommy, don't take my games."
"Greg…"
"I'm sorry for fibbing. It was a joke. Pleeeeease."
"Greg."
"Mom, it's not fair. You can't do this. I wasn't lying. I was just joking around, Mom."
"Gre-"
"Pleeeeeeeeeease."
"Gregory!"
As she barked his name, Greg flinched and relaxed his grip on his mom's mid-section, pulling back from the one-sided hug. As he stepped away from his mother, he gave her his best smile, the visual spoiled by the wetness all over his face. "Yeah, mom?"
Susan Veder let out a deep sigh, the sound coming from a place of deep frustration. A hand went down to her scrubs to brush off some imaginary dirt before she raised her head again to fix Greg with a tired stare. "Just keep your games, Greg."
Greg lit up, his downtrodden expression replaced with a bright grin in an instant. "Thanks, mom!"
Greg moved in for another hug, only for his mom to stop his forward movement with a palm to his forehead. "Greg, just...." Susan let out another sighh.
"Enough with the hugs, sweetie. Just... go do something. I'll see you when I get home."
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Ugh, that was close.
Greg let out a heavy sigh as he collapsed backwards onto his computer chair, the old thing creaking slightly as he dropped all one hundred and fifteen pounds of himself onto it. Almost got grounded 'cause I couldn't keep my mouth shut.
That's nothing new, though. Greg scrunched up his face as he thought back to all the times his mouth had gotten him in hot water. At least, I got out of it this time. He paused, leaning back in his chair as his face turned down into a frown. Still, this one wasn't even my fault.
Greg spun around in his chair, turning to face his unmade bed as he dropped his chin to rest it on a raised palm. "And I still don't even know what the frick that screen thingy was. Seriously, what was that thing?"
Another one.
Greg leaned forward in his chair, his jaw slowly falling open as he read this new pop-up. Neurons fired off in his head as realization slowly dawned on him as to what this could be. Swallowing a mouthful of nothing, Greg let out a slow, shaky breath. "H-h-ho my God."
Does this mean what I think it means? As carefully as he could, Greg raised a finger to poke the blue screen, the sensation feeling somewhat like a thin plastic film on his finger before it vanished a moment later. I think this means what I think it means.
Greg let out another uncertain breath, picking himself up from his seat slowly. His eyes were wary, but even then, he couldn't suppress the eagerness that he was radiating. I swear to God, if I find out this is a prank, someone is going to die.
Shaking in raw excitement, Greg Veder let himself say the word.
"Menu."
Greg rapidly inhaled as a screen popped into existence right in front of him, the words in front of him sending a feeling of raw excitement through him.
"Holy..."
"...crap on a cracker."
Jaw still hanging open, Greg raised a hand to rub at his eyes to make sure he was actually seeing this. "Please don't be a prank. Please, don't." The whispered words were both eager and desperate, Greg's blue eyes widening as he read each of the words in turn.
"St… stats," Greg muttered, voice suddenly dry.
"...uh-huh." Greg blinked.
After a moment, Greg blinked again, his head moving backwards slowly before dropping back down to stare at his hands. "...uh-huh."
Without even looking behind him, he sat back down in his chair with uncharacteristic listlessness, the blue stat screen moving along with him. Thoughts and ideas rushed through his mind, each and every one of them related to the revelation that he had just experienced.
After a few long moments, Greg glanced back up to stare directly into the screen again. As he tilted his head, a gleam of excitement was visible in his eye and his mouth flashed into a grin.
"God exists and he's a huge nerd."
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CedeTheBees
Probably high right now
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Those are some unfortunate stats, Greg. Jesus.
Greg. Pal. Buddy. I know you have -3 WIS so this you probably won't have the common sense to do this, but please raise that up to less instadeath levels.
Greg. Pal. Buddy. I know you have -3 WIS so this you probably won't have the common sense to do this, but please raise that up to less instadeath levels.
Last edited:
Tutorial 1.3
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Tutorial 1.3
Still running off the high that finding out he had powers had left him with, Greg continued to pore over his stat screen, interested in learning everything he could.
"I mean," Greg began, raising an eyebrow as he reread his stats for the fourth time, "I know I'm only level two but what kind of stats are these? I mean, my HP looks like it's… decent, I guess."
80 for a level 2, though? Talk about an arbitrary number. Why not start off with 100 HP at level 1? Whoever designed this needs to go back to the drawing board?
"Wait," Greg blinked, raising a finger to his chin. "It's my power, right? So… did my unconscious design this?" He mulled the thought over for a bit before shaking his head.
"Ughh, that's just weird." Greg shuddered, "I really don't want to think about that. "
Stepping back from the screen, Greg turned his gaze down to his left hand. "Let's just test this HP thing out." Letting out a quick breath, he curled his fingers into a tight fist.
Before he could chicken out, Greg drove his fist into the side of his face as hard as he could. A starburst of pain erupted in his left cheek, right above his jawline. "Motherf-! ...huh." As quickly as the pain appeared, it vanished, leaving Greg cradling his jaw for no reason.
"Cool! No pain… less pain?" He shrugged. "Still cool. Uhhh... sta- wait, do I have to say stats every time? Can I just say [HP]?"
In response to his words, a smaller screen appeared.
"W-wait? Two damage from one punch?" Greg whined, poking at his fist as if seeing it for the first time. He glanced at the mirror, marvelling open-mouthed at the fact that he didn't even have a bruise marking his face. Not even a hint of soreness or tenderness on his face, either. "That's super weak… right?"
In a small blink of blue, the HP screen vanished to be replaced with a larger, wider one.
"I can make skills?" Greg froze, eyes going wide as he began to process this new bit of info.
"Oh, I'm sooooo going to abuse the crap out of this," Greg added, his head bobbing up and down excitedly.
"You know, I swear these game powers are making it way too easy. I might not even have to bother min-maxing." After a moment, Greg burst out laughing, clutching a hand to his stomach at his own joke. "Yeah, right. OP-ness, here I come! But first, let's get back to that stat screen again. [Stats.]"
Greg's eyes fell all the way to the bottom, towards something he hadn't paid much attention to before, with his attention too focused on his - stupidly low - numbers and what they meant. "The frick is this stat? C. T. D? Cat D. Ketid? And why is there an ellipsis there?"
"C. T. D? CTD?" Greg blinked for a moment and leaned in, to get a closer glance at the box. Sighing, he brought a palm to his forehead. "I'm so stupid. Continued."
Poking the shortened word, Greg blinked again as a new box took the old one's place.
"...crap on a cracker."
Greg stared at the newest screen in front of him, his mouth turned downwards into an impressive frown. His hand came down on the blue box with an open palm, literally slapping the screen away. As it vanished, Greg let out an angry sigh, turning a pissed-off gaze towards his computer.
"...okay. Now, I'm mad for multiple reasons."
Still running off the high that finding out he had powers had left him with, Greg continued to pore over his stat screen, interested in learning everything he could.
"I mean," Greg began, raising an eyebrow as he reread his stats for the fourth time, "I know I'm only level two but what kind of stats are these? I mean, my HP looks like it's… decent, I guess."
80 for a level 2, though? Talk about an arbitrary number. Why not start off with 100 HP at level 1? Whoever designed this needs to go back to the drawing board?
"Wait," Greg blinked, raising a finger to his chin. "It's my power, right? So… did my unconscious design this?" He mulled the thought over for a bit before shaking his head.
"Ughh, that's just weird." Greg shuddered, "I really don't want to think about that. "
Stepping back from the screen, Greg turned his gaze down to his left hand. "Let's just test this HP thing out." Letting out a quick breath, he curled his fingers into a tight fist.
Before he could chicken out, Greg drove his fist into the side of his face as hard as he could. A starburst of pain erupted in his left cheek, right above his jawline. "Motherf-! ...huh." As quickly as the pain appeared, it vanished, leaving Greg cradling his jaw for no reason.
"Cool! No pain… less pain?" He shrugged. "Still cool. Uhhh... sta- wait, do I have to say stats every time? Can I just say [HP]?"
In response to his words, a smaller screen appeared.
"W-wait? Two damage from one punch?" Greg whined, poking at his fist as if seeing it for the first time. He glanced at the mirror, marvelling open-mouthed at the fact that he didn't even have a bruise marking his face. Not even a hint of soreness or tenderness on his face, either. "That's super weak… right?"
In a small blink of blue, the HP screen vanished to be replaced with a larger, wider one.
"I can make skills?" Greg froze, eyes going wide as he began to process this new bit of info.
"Oh, I'm sooooo going to abuse the crap out of this," Greg added, his head bobbing up and down excitedly.
"You know, I swear these game powers are making it way too easy. I might not even have to bother min-maxing." After a moment, Greg burst out laughing, clutching a hand to his stomach at his own joke. "Yeah, right. OP-ness, here I come! But first, let's get back to that stat screen again. [Stats.]"
Greg Lucas Veder
Student
Level 2
XP: 0/500
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 79/80
MP: 50/50
Will: 30
STR: 2
SPD: 3
VIT: 2
INT: 6
WIS: 1 (-4)
CHA: 1 (+9)(-9)
Unspent Points: 2
Ctd…
Student
Level 2
XP: 0/500
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 79/80
MP: 50/50
Will: 30
STR: 2
SPD: 3
VIT: 2
INT: 6
WIS: 1 (-4)
CHA: 1 (+9)(-9)
Unspent Points: 2
Ctd…
Greg's eyes fell all the way to the bottom, towards something he hadn't paid much attention to before, with his attention too focused on his - stupidly low - numbers and what they meant. "The frick is this stat? C. T. D? Cat D. Ketid? And why is there an ellipsis there?"
"C. T. D? CTD?" Greg blinked for a moment and leaned in, to get a closer glance at the box. Sighing, he brought a palm to his forehead. "I'm so stupid. Continued."
Poking the shortened word, Greg blinked again as a new box took the old one's place.
"...crap on a cracker."
Greg stared at the newest screen in front of him, his mouth turned downwards into an impressive frown. His hand came down on the blue box with an open palm, literally slapping the screen away. As it vanished, Greg let out an angry sigh, turning a pissed-off gaze towards his computer.
"...okay. Now, I'm mad for multiple reasons."
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- Location
- Myanmar, Yangon
*raised eyebrow*
Mad at what? The part that you got bad flaws? Or the part that it is mostly true?
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
At which part are you referring to?
Jaune Pendragon
King Of Servants
- Location
- Avalon
Definitely Watched... lets hope he stops putting his foot in his mouth. XD
Tutorial 1.4
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Tutorial 1.4
Greg fell face-forward, his body hitting the ground in a heap of pale skin and lanky limbs.
"...ow."
As he lay there, lying face-first in the untrimmed grass of his backyard, Greg began to ruminate over everything he had learned over the last three hours.
First, he could earn stat points through actual training. He had learned that after punching a tree who knew how many times in row trying to create some sort of super punching skill. It maybe also have been a way to work out his anger after seeing those crap-tastic Stat Modifiers.
Just maybe.
Either way, he was willing to grind to kickstart his path to greatness. Any true gamer would, of course.
Anyway, after about three hours of strenuous effort, all he had to show for it was twenty-five lost health points, seven levels on [Blunt Force Resistance] and 1 brand-spanking new VIT point.
Secondly, each new VIT point made his HP go up by 10 and his Will go up by 3. Greg could only imagine the same thing applied for his MP. So, either INT or WIS controlled that, most likely.
Thirdly, just because actual pain went away really quick, it didn't mean he couldn't get tired. Apparently, one of his stats, Will, measured his level of tiredness or something. Right now, that was sitting at a big fat zero.
It took almost ten minutes for his Will to regenerate all the way back to full, which sucked so hard. For Greg, that basically meant ten minutes of sitting around and waiting until his entire body didn't feel like crap.
Last but certainly not least, skills were super-duper hard to make.
Like, harder than the first boss of Ninja Gaiden hard.
Greg lifted his head and let out another small moan, pausing at the end to announce, "[Skills.]"
"Who designed this RPG system?" Greg moaned, still face-down in grass. "It couldn't be me because my subconscious cannot be this much of a butthole!"
Scratch that. This was harder than a level of Demon's Souls.
Why, you ask? Why did Greg think that making a skill was so impossibly frustrating?
It was because after three hours of effort, - three long, painful hours - Greg had managed to managed to make two new skills. The [Observe] skill and the [Power Sprint] skill, both created in the first few minutes.
Apparently, looking at a bug and wondering what it's species was enough for this stupid system to fart out a skill. Running away in fright when that same bug tried to hop onto his face was worth a skill, too, for some odd reason.
However, working his butt off for a couple hours was not skill-worthy!
Greg groaned again, his voice gaining more energy as the drain on his muscles began to lessen. Greg let out a relieved sigh, his recovery a sign that at least one of his stats was recovering. "[Will]."
"Three minutes down here and we're still at 15. That's some crap regen," Greg muttered. "The frick is will, anyway? Ughhh," Greg spat out blades of grass from his mouth as he lifted his head, pushing himself off from the ground. "What kind of system is this?"
He had tried to make telekinesis. For ten long, embarrassing minutes, Greg had held a hand to his head like Professor X while his other limb made gestures at a tiny rock. All for nothing.
He had tried to use energy blasts. Nada.
Super-speed. Nope.
Even a skill to do something as simple as jump higher hadn't worked, leaving him doing jumping jacks for a good twenty minutes like an idiot.
None of them worked, despite what he tried and it was getting on his fricking nerves. Why would his powers make him an RPG character if there was no way for him to actually achieve unlimited power?
Pulling himself to his feet, Greg focused his eyes on the tree he had spent the last hour pummeling. This isn't fair.
Stepping closer to it, he brought his fists up again. This is not fair. Why won't this work? What do I have to do?
His face began to redden as Greg worked himself into a mood, angry thoughts bouncing around his head. "Why won't you work?"
Running forward, Greg threw a cross, slamming his fist into the thick tree with all his might. To his surprise, his fist glowed yellow as it struck the tree like a hammer. His eyes grew wider as slivers of bark basically exploded from the point of impact, flying back into his face as nothing more than wood chips.
Greg gaped at his unhurt fist, before turning back to face the tree. Blue eyes went back and forth between the damaged tree and his hand several times before the blond boy threw both of his hands in the air, letting out a frustrated scream as he did so. "What!? How!?"
When no floating box appeared to explain this phenomenon to Greg, the teenager let out another frustrated groan. "Why did it work this time? This system sucks!"
Then, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. When he opened them, he sent a frown at his fist. "At least I got one combat skill, right?" After a moment, Greg nodded slightly, happy that he had gotten at least one thing right. "Although, I don't really want to risk getting up close to bad guys that much."
"What the heck?" Greg's blue eyes widened as he took a step back in pure shock. "I'm only level 3. I can't fight criminals yet." Greg let out a groan, his hands clutching his hair in frustration. "It's like this system hates me or something!"
After coming to an important realization, your WIS has increased by 1.
"...oh, haha."
Greg fell face-forward, his body hitting the ground in a heap of pale skin and lanky limbs.
"...ow."
As he lay there, lying face-first in the untrimmed grass of his backyard, Greg began to ruminate over everything he had learned over the last three hours.
First, he could earn stat points through actual training. He had learned that after punching a tree who knew how many times in row trying to create some sort of super punching skill. It maybe also have been a way to work out his anger after seeing those crap-tastic Stat Modifiers.
Just maybe.
Either way, he was willing to grind to kickstart his path to greatness. Any true gamer would, of course.
Anyway, after about three hours of strenuous effort, all he had to show for it was twenty-five lost health points, seven levels on [Blunt Force Resistance] and 1 brand-spanking new VIT point.
Secondly, each new VIT point made his HP go up by 10 and his Will go up by 3. Greg could only imagine the same thing applied for his MP. So, either INT or WIS controlled that, most likely.
Thirdly, just because actual pain went away really quick, it didn't mean he couldn't get tired. Apparently, one of his stats, Will, measured his level of tiredness or something. Right now, that was sitting at a big fat zero.
It took almost ten minutes for his Will to regenerate all the way back to full, which sucked so hard. For Greg, that basically meant ten minutes of sitting around and waiting until his entire body didn't feel like crap.
Last but certainly not least, skills were super-duper hard to make.
Like, harder than the first boss of Ninja Gaiden hard.
Greg lifted his head and let out another small moan, pausing at the end to announce, "[Skills.]"
"Who designed this RPG system?" Greg moaned, still face-down in grass. "It couldn't be me because my subconscious cannot be this much of a butthole!"
Scratch that. This was harder than a level of Demon's Souls.
Why, you ask? Why did Greg think that making a skill was so impossibly frustrating?
It was because after three hours of effort, - three long, painful hours - Greg had managed to managed to make two new skills. The [Observe] skill and the [Power Sprint] skill, both created in the first few minutes.
Apparently, looking at a bug and wondering what it's species was enough for this stupid system to fart out a skill. Running away in fright when that same bug tried to hop onto his face was worth a skill, too, for some odd reason.
However, working his butt off for a couple hours was not skill-worthy!
Greg groaned again, his voice gaining more energy as the drain on his muscles began to lessen. Greg let out a relieved sigh, his recovery a sign that at least one of his stats was recovering. "[Will]."
"Three minutes down here and we're still at 15. That's some crap regen," Greg muttered. "The frick is will, anyway? Ughhh," Greg spat out blades of grass from his mouth as he lifted his head, pushing himself off from the ground. "What kind of system is this?"
He had tried to make telekinesis. For ten long, embarrassing minutes, Greg had held a hand to his head like Professor X while his other limb made gestures at a tiny rock. All for nothing.
He had tried to use energy blasts. Nada.
Super-speed. Nope.
Even a skill to do something as simple as jump higher hadn't worked, leaving him doing jumping jacks for a good twenty minutes like an idiot.
None of them worked, despite what he tried and it was getting on his fricking nerves. Why would his powers make him an RPG character if there was no way for him to actually achieve unlimited power?
Pulling himself to his feet, Greg focused his eyes on the tree he had spent the last hour pummeling. This isn't fair.
Stepping closer to it, he brought his fists up again. This is not fair. Why won't this work? What do I have to do?
His face began to redden as Greg worked himself into a mood, angry thoughts bouncing around his head. "Why won't you work?"
Running forward, Greg threw a cross, slamming his fist into the thick tree with all his might. To his surprise, his fist glowed yellow as it struck the tree like a hammer. His eyes grew wider as slivers of bark basically exploded from the point of impact, flying back into his face as nothing more than wood chips.
Greg gaped at his unhurt fist, before turning back to face the tree. Blue eyes went back and forth between the damaged tree and his hand several times before the blond boy threw both of his hands in the air, letting out a frustrated scream as he did so. "What!? How!?"
When no floating box appeared to explain this phenomenon to Greg, the teenager let out another frustrated groan. "Why did it work this time? This system sucks!"
Then, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. When he opened them, he sent a frown at his fist. "At least I got one combat skill, right?" After a moment, Greg nodded slightly, happy that he had gotten at least one thing right. "Although, I don't really want to risk getting up close to bad guys that much."
"What the heck?" Greg's blue eyes widened as he took a step back in pure shock. "I'm only level 3. I can't fight criminals yet." Greg let out a groan, his hands clutching his hair in frustration. "It's like this system hates me or something!"
After coming to an important realization, your WIS has increased by 1.
"...oh, haha."
Greg Lucas Veder
Student
Level 3
XP: 100/1800
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 100/100
MP: 60/60
Will: 36
STR: 2
SPD: 3
VIT: 3
INT: 6
WIS: 1 (-5)
CHA: 1 (+9)(-9)
Unspent Points: 4
Stat Modifiers
Nerd-Geek Hybrid: Your obsession with video gaming, computers, fantasy/sci-fi literature and 80's/90's pop culture has left you in the rare middle of two circles; the obsessive fandom-loving geek and the intelligent, knowledge seeking nerd. Sadly, your hobbies have left you with an aversion to physical exertion. (50% bonus to INT gains, -50% penalty to STR, SPD & VIT gains.)
Ambiguous Disorder: Ever since you were a little kid, you've always been a little bit off. Impulsive, obsessive, socially obtuse and emotionally needy, you're a bit of a weirdo. It was easily written off as normal behavior when you were younger but now you're fifteen. Yet, you still come off as someone over five years younger. Maybe Mom should have had you tested like Dad said? (-80% reduction to overall WIS, 90% reduction to overall CHA.)
Casanova Bloodline: As a Veder man, you have a great smile, natural charm and a confident approach to life that draws the ladies in like a moth to a flame. Your great cheekbones don't hurt either. It's how your dad got your mom to go out with him while dating at least three other girls and sleeping with two others, at least that's what he always told you - even when you didn't ask - all the time. (+ 5 CHA, 50% bonus to CHA)
Student
Level 3
XP: 100/1800
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 100/100
MP: 60/60
Will: 36
STR: 2
SPD: 3
VIT: 3
INT: 6
WIS: 1 (-5)
CHA: 1 (+9)(-9)
Unspent Points: 4
Stat Modifiers
Nerd-Geek Hybrid: Your obsession with video gaming, computers, fantasy/sci-fi literature and 80's/90's pop culture has left you in the rare middle of two circles; the obsessive fandom-loving geek and the intelligent, knowledge seeking nerd. Sadly, your hobbies have left you with an aversion to physical exertion. (50% bonus to INT gains, -50% penalty to STR, SPD & VIT gains.)
Ambiguous Disorder: Ever since you were a little kid, you've always been a little bit off. Impulsive, obsessive, socially obtuse and emotionally needy, you're a bit of a weirdo. It was easily written off as normal behavior when you were younger but now you're fifteen. Yet, you still come off as someone over five years younger. Maybe Mom should have had you tested like Dad said? (-80% reduction to overall WIS, 90% reduction to overall CHA.)
Casanova Bloodline: As a Veder man, you have a great smile, natural charm and a confident approach to life that draws the ladies in like a moth to a flame. Your great cheekbones don't hurt either. It's how your dad got your mom to go out with him while dating at least three other girls and sleeping with two others, at least that's what he always told you - even when you didn't ask - all the time. (+ 5 CHA, 50% bonus to CHA)
Last edited:
CedeTheBees
Probably high right now
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Wasn't the WIS modifier -4 before? Also, 1 point was added.
- Location
- Myanmar, Yangon
*snorted*
Took you long enough to notice. Why else there are so many 'Worm' stories that involve bashing you? Not that you know why....yet. Funny enough, here I am praying that Greg raised enough Wisdom to get some common sense in the future....Then again, this is Greg we're talking about......
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Yes, he gained 1 WIS point near the end of the chapter.
But the Modifier is -80% WIS and I'm not doing decimals.
Also, he gained 1 VIT point. It was mentioned near the beginning.
Yes but in part 1 WIS was (+9)(-9) then in a latee part the mod became (-4). So how and why did it change? Plus his own powers hating him goes beyond the snark of the original gamer power, is there a reason his power is sapient and does that play as part of the story or is it more fandom bashing greg again?
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
I edited that part with the WIS. It was supposed to be for charm alone. If you go back and read Tutorial 1.2, that was changed because I made a mistake there. I don't have a beta yet so I didn't notice it.
Also, his power is sapient and bashing him because his power is based off his needs. Greg loves hard, challenging games and he likes to think of himself as a hardcore gamer. As such, he expects any games he plays to challenge him and make him want to keep playing. No game can remain fun if you breeze right through it.
Icecoldfunk
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Australia
So he's not getting an another effective WIS point till he hits 8 actual?
Ouch.
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Yep. Until he removes those negative modifiers, his physical training will be half as effective too, taking twice as long or requiring twice the effort.
In fact, it's so bad that even if he gets 100 WIS and 100 CHA, those modifiers will slash them down to 20 and 10, respectively.
This is not going to be a cakewalk.
Tutorial 1.5
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Tutorial 1.5
"Huh, let's try this one out. [Observe]."
Greg let out an annoyed groan, shoulders slumping as he tossed the pair of shoes over his shoulder without even looking. It landed with a clattering noise on the other side of the garage, landing near a pile of other rejected items.
"Okay, that was another bust," Greg muttered, running a hand through his bowl cut. It had been a while since he left the backyard. Slamming his fists against the tree had started getting boring after the leveling of his [Angry Straight] began moving at a crawl. Gaining three extra levels wasn't bad, though. The constant notification in the corner of his vision of his HP dropping every time he forgot to say the skill name did start to get annoying, though.
Anyway, Greg had been in his current position for a good thirty minutes, on his knees in the garage searching through storage boxes for some useful stuff to equip. After making up his mind to go on a mob hunt, Greg had decided to find something to give him an edge. After all, if he was an RPG character, he needed battle equipment, right?
You'd think so, at least.
All of this is random crap. Boosts to ballroom dancing? Hockey? Swimming? It was a little annoying that after all of this work, he had barely found anything useful, with only three items giving him any sort of combat-related boost. Greg needed some more clothes that would give him something combat related because he had no intention of using up his extra stat points until he was at least level five, with at least eight points in reserve. I want to fight some guy, not beat him in a dance-off or a triathlon.
Shaking his head, Greg turned his attention back to the massive set of boxes in front of him with various words written on the side of each. "Why did Mom even buy this stuff? I never even got into any of these clubs."
Rolling his eyes, he thrust a hand into the box closest to him, his other hand pushing random items to the side as he continued to search the storage container. He let out a sigh as more miscellaneous items spilling out as he did so. "And Mom told me she organized all this last month. How am I supposed to find anything when she doesn't clean up?"
Greg continued rooting around in the box, barely noting the various items he pulled out. "Huh, what's this... ewwww?"
Hanging from his fingers like a used napkin were a pair of purple leg warmers, obviously not brand new. Greg grimaced at the items for a few seconds before his curiosity got the better of him. "Uhhh… [Observe.]"
Greg stuck his tongue out as he finished reading the box, dropping the pair of used leg warmers with a disgusted shudder as his mind went wrong places with the [Flexibility] skill and his mother. "...I'm never sleeping again."
Forcing down the bit of bile he could feel creeping up his throat, Greg turned back to his search, albeit with much less enthusiasm than before. After a few minutes more, he grinned as his fingers grabbed hold of two very familiar items. Pulling them out with a victorious grin, Greg let out a self-satisfied chuckle. "Observe."
"Awesome!' Greg let out an excited cheer, finally finding something useful to add to the rest of his equipment, as well as the two ready-made skills that came with it. "Man, it's been a long time since I wore these bad boys. Better late than never. [Equip.]"
The black gloves and shoes vanished in a blink of blue light and appeared on Greg's body, his current shoes disappearing off his feet in place of the kickboxing shoes.
"Whoa, this is awe- uggggghh," Greg raised a gloved hand to his forehead as a sudden burst of information suddenly rushed into his head. Information like how to make a proper fist, how to throw a correct cross, how to move quickly on his feet, etc.
He shook his head, blinking rapidly.
"That was just plain weird," Greg mused to himself as he shook his head, trying to regain his bearings.
The sensation hadn't hurt, not really. It had just been uncomfortable and… weird. It was basically the mental equivalent of getting slapped in the face with a fish.
"At least, I got some new skills," Greg crowed, a smile on his face. Curling his hands into fists, Greg struck a karate pose to test out his new knowledge, his body instinctively correcting his positioning and foot placement to something much more plausible to use in a fight.
Greg's smile faded a little at the sudden shift in his body, weirded out by how he hadn't really meant to move that way. "Huh… that's really gonna take some getting used to."
Glancing down at his new equipment, Greg shrugged off the weirdness, deciding on a whim to try out a new trick he had discovered about half an hour ago. "[Send to Inventory.]"
His newly equipped-items vanished in another tiny flash of blue, leaving his feet and hands bare. As soon as the items vanished, Greg shook his head again, suddenly feeling somewhat more awkward in his own body. He moved into a fighting stance again and frowned as he felt a bit less steady on his feet this time, his fists a bit less firm. Greg frowned, pursing his lips. "...weird. [Inventory!]"
Two separate boxes appeared in front of Greg, one with a somewhat three-dimensional image of him with his arms and legs spread out like that Leonardo da Vinci sketch.
The Vesuvian man? Greg shrugged, not really caring that much. Yeah, something like that.
The second box was a simple grid with five of the boxes already filled up. "Looking good, me." Greg snapped his fingers at the image of himself that simply stared forward blankly.
Shaking his head again, Greg pulled himself to his feet, a slight smile on his face. "Okay, just gotta take care of one more thing before it's time to go kick some butt."
His eyes roamed the garage until they landed on what he was looking for. Grimacing, he let out a sigh. "Let's go get this over with."
"Ow!"
-5 hp
"...ow!"
-5 hp
"...ow!"
-7 hp
"...shi-ow!"
-5 hp
"...ow!"
-9 hp
"...shit! Shit! Shit! Ow!"
Hissing in pain, Greg waited for the throbbing sensation to dissipate one more time before he raised the object in his hand high. His other hand remained where it was, splayed out flat as it rested on top of the garage workbench.
A part of Greg felt like this wasn't worth it.
The other part didn't care.
Winding back his arm, Greg Veder literally brought the hammer down, the head slamming into his wrist with all the force he could muster.
-12 hp [Critical Hit!]
"Motherf-! Goddamn it!" Cradling his wrist, Greg held back tears, waiting for the pain in his hand to fade. Eyes closed, Greg began to groan as he rocked back and forth on the stool he was sitting on, insulting himself in his head for this stupid idea. He was so caught up in cursing his own dumb idea, he barely heard a soft 'ping!'
In fact, he didn't hear it until it repeated a second time.
Greg opened his eyes, all his pain forgotten as a bright grin spread across his face.
Through enduring physical punishment, your VIT has increased by 1.
"Worth it."
- o - o- o – o – o – o – o -
"Huh, let's try this one out. [Observe]."
Greg let out an annoyed groan, shoulders slumping as he tossed the pair of shoes over his shoulder without even looking. It landed with a clattering noise on the other side of the garage, landing near a pile of other rejected items.
"Okay, that was another bust," Greg muttered, running a hand through his bowl cut. It had been a while since he left the backyard. Slamming his fists against the tree had started getting boring after the leveling of his [Angry Straight] began moving at a crawl. Gaining three extra levels wasn't bad, though. The constant notification in the corner of his vision of his HP dropping every time he forgot to say the skill name did start to get annoying, though.
Anyway, Greg had been in his current position for a good thirty minutes, on his knees in the garage searching through storage boxes for some useful stuff to equip. After making up his mind to go on a mob hunt, Greg had decided to find something to give him an edge. After all, if he was an RPG character, he needed battle equipment, right?
You'd think so, at least.
All of this is random crap. Boosts to ballroom dancing? Hockey? Swimming? It was a little annoying that after all of this work, he had barely found anything useful, with only three items giving him any sort of combat-related boost. Greg needed some more clothes that would give him something combat related because he had no intention of using up his extra stat points until he was at least level five, with at least eight points in reserve. I want to fight some guy, not beat him in a dance-off or a triathlon.
Shaking his head, Greg turned his attention back to the massive set of boxes in front of him with various words written on the side of each. "Why did Mom even buy this stuff? I never even got into any of these clubs."
Rolling his eyes, he thrust a hand into the box closest to him, his other hand pushing random items to the side as he continued to search the storage container. He let out a sigh as more miscellaneous items spilling out as he did so. "And Mom told me she organized all this last month. How am I supposed to find anything when she doesn't clean up?"
Greg continued rooting around in the box, barely noting the various items he pulled out. "Huh, what's this... ewwww?"
Hanging from his fingers like a used napkin were a pair of purple leg warmers, obviously not brand new. Greg grimaced at the items for a few seconds before his curiosity got the better of him. "Uhhh… [Observe.]"
Greg stuck his tongue out as he finished reading the box, dropping the pair of used leg warmers with a disgusted shudder as his mind went wrong places with the [Flexibility] skill and his mother. "...I'm never sleeping again."
Forcing down the bit of bile he could feel creeping up his throat, Greg turned back to his search, albeit with much less enthusiasm than before. After a few minutes more, he grinned as his fingers grabbed hold of two very familiar items. Pulling them out with a victorious grin, Greg let out a self-satisfied chuckle. "Observe."
"Awesome!' Greg let out an excited cheer, finally finding something useful to add to the rest of his equipment, as well as the two ready-made skills that came with it. "Man, it's been a long time since I wore these bad boys. Better late than never. [Equip.]"
The black gloves and shoes vanished in a blink of blue light and appeared on Greg's body, his current shoes disappearing off his feet in place of the kickboxing shoes.
"Whoa, this is awe- uggggghh," Greg raised a gloved hand to his forehead as a sudden burst of information suddenly rushed into his head. Information like how to make a proper fist, how to throw a correct cross, how to move quickly on his feet, etc.
He shook his head, blinking rapidly.
"That was just plain weird," Greg mused to himself as he shook his head, trying to regain his bearings.
The sensation hadn't hurt, not really. It had just been uncomfortable and… weird. It was basically the mental equivalent of getting slapped in the face with a fish.
"At least, I got some new skills," Greg crowed, a smile on his face. Curling his hands into fists, Greg struck a karate pose to test out his new knowledge, his body instinctively correcting his positioning and foot placement to something much more plausible to use in a fight.
Greg's smile faded a little at the sudden shift in his body, weirded out by how he hadn't really meant to move that way. "Huh… that's really gonna take some getting used to."
Glancing down at his new equipment, Greg shrugged off the weirdness, deciding on a whim to try out a new trick he had discovered about half an hour ago. "[Send to Inventory.]"
His newly equipped-items vanished in another tiny flash of blue, leaving his feet and hands bare. As soon as the items vanished, Greg shook his head again, suddenly feeling somewhat more awkward in his own body. He moved into a fighting stance again and frowned as he felt a bit less steady on his feet this time, his fists a bit less firm. Greg frowned, pursing his lips. "...weird. [Inventory!]"
Two separate boxes appeared in front of Greg, one with a somewhat three-dimensional image of him with his arms and legs spread out like that Leonardo da Vinci sketch.
The Vesuvian man? Greg shrugged, not really caring that much. Yeah, something like that.
The second box was a simple grid with five of the boxes already filled up. "Looking good, me." Greg snapped his fingers at the image of himself that simply stared forward blankly.
Shaking his head again, Greg pulled himself to his feet, a slight smile on his face. "Okay, just gotta take care of one more thing before it's time to go kick some butt."
His eyes roamed the garage until they landed on what he was looking for. Grimacing, he let out a sigh. "Let's go get this over with."
- o - o- o – o – o – o – o -
"Ow!"
-5 hp
"...ow!"
-5 hp
"...ow!"
-7 hp
"...shi-ow!"
-5 hp
"...ow!"
-9 hp
"...shit! Shit! Shit! Ow!"
Hissing in pain, Greg waited for the throbbing sensation to dissipate one more time before he raised the object in his hand high. His other hand remained where it was, splayed out flat as it rested on top of the garage workbench.
A part of Greg felt like this wasn't worth it.
The other part didn't care.
Winding back his arm, Greg Veder literally brought the hammer down, the head slamming into his wrist with all the force he could muster.
-12 hp [Critical Hit!]
"Motherf-! Goddamn it!" Cradling his wrist, Greg held back tears, waiting for the pain in his hand to fade. Eyes closed, Greg began to groan as he rocked back and forth on the stool he was sitting on, insulting himself in his head for this stupid idea. He was so caught up in cursing his own dumb idea, he barely heard a soft 'ping!'
In fact, he didn't hear it until it repeated a second time.
Greg opened his eyes, all his pain forgotten as a bright grin spread across his face.
Through enduring physical punishment, your VIT has increased by 1.
"Worth it."
- o - o- o – o – o – o – o -
Greg Lucas Veder
Student
Level 3
XP: 100/1800
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 110/110
MP: 60/60
Will: 39
STR: 2
SPD: 3
VIT: 4
INT: 6
WIS: 1 (-5)
CHA: 1 (+9)(-9)
Unspent Points: 4
Student
Level 3
XP: 100/1800
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 110/110
MP: 60/60
Will: 39
STR: 2
SPD: 3
VIT: 4
INT: 6
WIS: 1 (-5)
CHA: 1 (+9)(-9)
Unspent Points: 4
Last edited:
- Location
- US
The fuck you doing? Those shoes are worth more than your life! A good pair of oxfords cost $500 used.
The fuck you doing!!!!!!!!! A new skill will save for fucking life!! If you have to cross dress in what your mother wore during your own fucking conception you do it! Only a blithering idiot would pass up skills like flexibility and yoga, which could easily increase DEX and AGI base stats, or at least their expression through skills. Honestly, those two are the direct corollary of INT and WIS, for physical skills. STR and END are chump stats for chumps, they won't help you learn skills nor master them like AGL and DEX will.
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
He actually doesn't have DEX and AGI as base stats. I felt that having them as abilities worked better for the system I'm using but yeah, good point.
LastStandZiggy
Last To Fall
- Location
- Kingman, Az
If you change your background to [FlexDark] the blue actually stands out better and is easier to read.
- Location
- Earth Prime
I'd been thinking Greg was a natural character for The Gamer as a power. This could be interesting. 
So far, he seems like he's hitting the notes that Greg does in canon, too, personality-wise, while being seen from his own perspective rather than through Taylor's eyes.
So far, he seems like he's hitting the notes that Greg does in canon, too, personality-wise, while being seen from his own perspective rather than through Taylor's eyes.
Last edited:
Icecoldfunk
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Australia
Powerleveling is going to suuuuuuuuuuuck for Gamer-Greg.