The comparison to Lung is flawed because Lung is powerful in and of himself; he can do what he likes whether anyone respects him or not. Emma's position in Winslow is solely due to the respect that others give her. If other people stop respecting her, she no longer has any power or influence. It's not possible for Lung to stop being a threat. Emma could lose status as easily as any other girl involved in the Byzantine mess of high school politics.
Greg is still emotionally needy and has no social skills. He got +3 Charisma this chapter, bringing him up to... still two. All he needs to do is get +3 Charisma 28 more times and he'll have the Charisma of an average office drone! Awesome!
And now Sophia's almost certainly on to him. She was suspicious before, but his little punch combo there did more damage than a gunshot, and the individual hits did more damage than hitting someone with a hammer. She knows he's a Brute.
To be fair, I already hinted at that. In the last chapter, 3.6, I had Emma attempt to warn Sophia off of fighting him only for Sophia to ignore her.
Emma voiced her suspicions and Sophia ignored them before, behind the scenes, because in her head, Greg went down way too quick that first fight to actually be any sort of Brute. Now, she believes what Emma had to say.
Also, yeah, Sophia definitely has some serious bruising and some wounds that she will have to explain.
The comparison to Lung is flawed because Lung is powerful in and of himself; he can do what he likes whether anyone respects him or not. Emma's position in Winslow is solely due to the respect that others give her. If other people stop respecting her, she no longer has any power or influence. It's not possible for Lung to stop being a threat. Emma could lose status as easily as any other girl involved in the Byzantine mess of high school politics.
You're underestimating the power of already-held power. There's an inertia to it. It would take concentrated effort to use Greg against her to have him be even slightly a weak point, and given that part of her power isn't just "popularity" but a sharp tongue that directs scorn, it wouldn't be easy.
If you want to argue that dating Greg introduces a potential vulnerability in her social armor, I can see that. I don't think it a likely one to bear much fruit for anybody not already more skilled at social manipulation than Emma, however, because she has a pretty iron grip on the school's hierarchy. And Greg's ability to demonstrate her prowess at controlling boys, combined with his physical threat, means that he's more asset than vulnerability anyway.
Even a tenth of the brutality the Trio inflicted on Taylor could be used to keep any would-be usurper of Emma's thrown at the bottom of the totem pole. Buried beneath it, even, right next to Taylor herself.
Taylor stopped as she was about to get on the bus, her bug sense noticing a crowd over by the old basketball courts.
Not my problem, she thought, until she heard the chant of "Sophia! Sophia! Sophia!" coming from that direction. "Definitely not my problem." she muttered. Still, it was a rather large crowd, and curiosity got the better of her. Some carefully placed gnats showed that there were two people surrounded by the rest.
Sophia's fighting someone... wait, is she fighting GREG? He actually showed up?
With morbid fascination she started edging toward the court, based on the way her gnats seemed to be moving, Greg was getting his ass handed to him. One advantage to her height was she didn't have to try and push through the crowd to get a decent view.
Just in time to see him drop Sophia like a sack of potatoes.
Holy fuck...
That didn't just happen. Taylor thought, quickly heading back to the bus stop. That was... Scion himself couldn't have delivered a miracle better. Still, Taylor was smiling the rest of the way home.
Fugly Bob's, a burger joint that played at being a restaurant despite it's less than impressive name, was the place that any person in their right mind would go to for quality comfort food in Brockton Bay. As long as they weren't worried about their waistline, cholesterol, or their complexion, they'd be fine enjoying the deliciously greasy fare Fugly's had to offer.
It was this same deliciously greasy food that made Fugly Bob's so popular among the teenage residents of this city, their normal burgers sized just right to fill the bottomless pit that was their stomachs. Unsurprisingly, it was also Greg Veder's favorite place to grab a bite.
Loud voices, the background drone of chattering, only added to the colorful, upbeat tone of the venue. Greg sat, back pressed up against the upholstery of the booth as he stared at his friend opposite him. Compared to the general mood of the place, their silence was a stark contrast.
"Sparky?"
The mixed teen didn't say anything, simply pulling of his beanie and tossing it on the table with a heavy sigh. Olive-colored hands clasped on the table loosened and hazel eyes flicked up, flashing Greg an imperceptible look.
"Really?" It was the first thing the teen had said in several minutes, his voice much quieter than Greg was used to. "Like… really?"
"Yeah," Greg replied, nodding slowly. "Why would I lie?"
"Yeah," Sparky shook his head. A hand rose to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shut his eyes. He let out a sigh before speaking again. "Why the hell would you lie?"
"Besides," Greg snorted, a smile growing on his face, "You already saw me heal up."
'I did, yeah," Sparky nodded, eyes still shut. "It's just a bit hard to… you know, believe."
Still smiling, Greg nodded his head again. "Yeah, it took me a bit too," he replied with a laugh. "The story's kinda funny, actually."
A hand slapped down on the table, shocking Greg and interrupting his laughter. Greg found himself staring at Sparky, blue eyes wide with confusion as they stared into narrowed hazel.
"This isn't a joke," Sparky bit out, his voice low so as not to draw the other diner's attention. "Not funny."
Greg blinked, shrinking back in his seat as Sparky kept glaring at him. This was… new. Sparky wasn't the type to get angry, preferring snark or sarcasm as a way of expressing his emotions. "B-bro?"
Sparky raised a finger, his mouth pulled down into a scowl as he stared at his friend. "One question…"
Shrinking back even further under his friend's glare, Greg offered a weak smile. "Yeah…"
Leaning in, Sparky slapped both hands flat against the black surface of the table, gritted his teeth and hissed, "Are you fucking retarded, brah?"
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
The fight had ended about thirty minutes ago, Greg soaking in the cheers and whoops of an excited crowd of his peers before most of them split apart and began to head home.
Sophia had been one of the first to leave, not even bothering to hang around after the way the fight ended. Greg had offered the girl a hand up but Sophia, being her gracious, understanding self, had refused it violently, nearly scratching Greg's hand with her nails as she slapped it away.
Greg had brushed off the refusal without much of a thought, only to be stopped by Emma, her smiling face stopping him in his tracks. Without saying a word, the pretty redhead gave him a paper with her number in it and winked at him, leaving immediately after to follow her friend.
With everyone leaving, Sparky and Greg had decided to head down to the Boardwalk to grab something to eat. Sparky, still excited with the win Greg had pulled off, had been the talkative one this time, questioning Greg the whole bus ride over with how exactly he was able to beat her.
It was when they finally got to the burger joint and sat down that Greg dropped the bombshell on his friend.
"I have powers, man."
Sparky had been unbelieving at first, the idea that Greg of all people was a cape almost impossible for him to process. "What?"
"Yeah, I really do," Greg nodded his head furiously and began explaining everything that happened to him since he got his powers. Going almost a week without telling anyone, the words had stumbled out in a hurried rush against the loud backdrop of the restaurant's other occupants. All in all, Sparky might not have heard everything, but Greg was pretty sure he got the basics.
He was eventually forced to believe Greg when he realized that all of Greg's wounds from the fight had healed over in the short time they had made their way to Fugly's.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"W-what?" Greg gulped, the sudden heat in Sparky's tone surprising him. "I d-don't…"
"Are. You. Fucking. Retarded. Brah," Sparky repeated, emphasizing each word with his teeth gritted.
Greg blinked, surprised by the sudden venom in his friend's tone. "Uh… I… no?"
"You've had these powers since when?"
"Uhhh… Sunday."
"Seriously, man?" Sparky's hand went to his face again, rubbing his forehead as he leaned back in the booth. He spoke up again, his voice still low. "You get powers - powers designed for your nerdy ass - and you go out of your way to do suicidal shit with them and it hasn't even been a week yet?"
"I-" Greg opened his mouth to reply, only for Sparky to speak again, cutting him off.
"Nah, brah. You…" the teen blew air from his mouth, shaking his head, "you don't get to talk right now."
Greg met his friend's eyes, seeing the hint of steel there that told him Sparky was actually being somewhat serious. He nodded hesitantly, accepting his words. What did I even do?
"You know what you fucking did."
Greg sat up, stiffening in his seat as he stared at Sparky with wide eyes. Did he just read my mind? Is he a cape too?
Sparky's scowl twitched, the side of his mouth moving upwards. "No, you idiot, I'm not a mind-reader." Olive hands gestured upwards at his face, hands splayed out. "No one needs to read your mind. It'd be fucking pointless when your face tells them everything."
"Oh." Greg leaned back in his seat again, light skin flushing in embarrassment. "Sorry." Mom did say I had an expressive face. Is that what that means?
""Don't…" Another sigh left Sparky's mouth, the teen dragging a hand down his face. "Don't apologize, please. It makes me feel like I'm kicking a puppy, dude. I just… I just can't with you. The day you get your powers, you go out and fight Merchants?"
He opened his mouth as if about to continue a rant, but instead closed it with a sigh. "Really, brah?"
Greg flushed deeper. "I… I practiced first."
"Oh yeah," Sparky shot back, rolling his eyes, "You punched a tree a couple times."
"Like, two whole hours but okay."
"Yeah," Sparky narrowed his eyes, jaw clenched. "Cause that's so much better. Real smart idea to go out and punch a couple Merchants with that under your belt."
Greg frowned at that and tried to find something to say. Some upstanding defense of his actions that could overturn Sparky's words. Instead, he said the first thing that came to mind. "But… the quests...?"
The sentence came out weakly even to his own ears and from the look of irritated boredom on Sparky's face, it didn't exactly win him over. "Oh, the quests? The quests that pop up when you think about stuff?"
Greg nodded hesitantly.
"Fuck the quests, brah," Sparky continued, sotto voce. "God, man, you're killin' me here. I'd figure you of all people with a power like yours would realize that you don't start taking quests or generally doing stupid shit unless you understand what you're actually fuckin' doing."
Rather than reply, Greg winced. That was kinda dumb, yeah.
"Hell, do you even understand how your powers work?" Sparky asked, throwing a hand up.
Greg blinked, the question confusing him a little. "Uh, well, I don't think anyone really understands how powers really work, per se."
He shrugged, tilting his head as he thought about the question. "I mean, scientists can understand and document the effects but given the vast number of capes in the world and all the differing and contradictory abilities, the actual mechanics of powers are a b-"
"Hey, hey, hey," Sparky interjected, snapping his fingers in front of Greg's face. "What did I say about talking?"
Greg shrugged, chuckling weakly. "Sorry."
"Whatever," Sparky replied with a sigh, drawling out the word as he dropped his face into an upraised palm.
"By the way, I didn't mean it like that," he continued, glancing out the window for a moment. "What I meant was, how do your powers make you different? Like, that first day. What did your," Sparky rolled his eyes, hands coming up in air quotes, "stats… show you?"
Greg pursed his lips, raising a hand to his chin as he thought back to that Sunday. "Huh. My original stats were pretty low, I think. Like, really low?"
"Are you asking me?" Sparky replied, sharp tone shifting to incredulous.
"N-no," Greg shook his hands, stammering as he tried to think. "Uhh… well, my stats were kinda trash tier. At level one, I had..." Blond eyebrows furrowed in thought, "80 Health, 50 Mana, 30 Will, 2 strength, 3 speed, 2 vitality, 6 intelligence, 1 wisdom and 1 charm or maybe charisma… I still haven't figured out what that last one stands for yet," Greg added that last bit on hurriedly, shrugging as if in apology.
"Mm-hmm," Sparky pressed his lips together. "And now?"
Eyes widened as Greg took in his stats, surprise clear on his face. "...whoa."
That's insane. Simply grinding his stats every day and gaining more stat points hadn't exactly left Greg in the mindset to calculate how much his stats had increased. Of course, he had looked at his stats but actually comparing them to what he started out with? Not so much a priority.
Sparky leaned in, eyebrows raised as he pressed against the table again. "What is it?"
Greg blinked slowly as he re-read the stat numbers one more time, comparing them to what he just recalled. "My health is at 295, mana's up to 165, will is 130, strength is 28, speed is 20, vitality is 15, intelligence is 22… well, both wisdom and charisma are only at two." Greg bit his lip, staring at the list again with disbelieving eyes. "That's… well, that's a lot higher."
"Is it? How can you be sure?" Sparky replied, one eyebrow raised. "How do you know exactly what 28 strength means?"
Shrugging, Greg made a noncommittal noise with his mouth closed. "I dunno, it's like fourteen times more than two, though. So, it has to be a lot bigger. Right?"
Sighing, Sparky rolled his eyes. "The numbers are, sure, but what do they stand for in the real world? Is that progression quadratic? Linear? Exponential? Is it just adding one more pound per point? What's your benchmark, brah?"
"…I dunno." Greg just sat there, realizing that he hadn't put that much effort into learning about his own power.
"I thought so. I know you're not the biggest fan of math but come on..." Sparky let out a groan as Greg worked his mouth silently, sinking further into his seat. "Do you even know what those original stats even meant?"
Greg remained silent.
"That's what I guessed," the long-haired teen sighed, palming his face again. "You're killin' me here, brah." Raising his face from his hand, Sparky stared at his friend for a moment before stretching that same hand out, palm up. "You know what? I'm gonna fix this up. Give me your phone for a minute."
"Why?" Greg asked, chewing on his lower lip. "What for?"
Sparky shot him an exhausted look. "The fuck do you think, genius? I'm gonna call your mom," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Now, c'mon. Gimme." He made the gesture with his fingers in time with his last word.
"Alright, alright," Greg sighed, rolling his own eyes. "Yeesh, you don't have to be sarcastic about everything," he said, pulling out his candy-blue Motorola from his pocket. Handing it to Sparky, Greg continued, "Being straight-forward every once in a while doesn't hurt, ya know."
Snorting, Sparky opened Greg's phone and began to tap at it for a few moments, leaving Greg looking on in slight confusion.
"So," the blond began with a click of his tongue, doing his utmost to wait patiently, "what are you doing on my phone, anyway?"
Lifting the phone to his ear, Sparky raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Calling your mom, like I told you."
"Wait, no!" Greg hissed, eyes wide. He stretched out his hand, standing up from the booth as he tried to grab his phone from Sparky's hand only for his friend to lean away from him, smirking.
"Hi, Ms. V, it's Axel," Sparky's voice rang out clearly as he spoke into the phone, his usual slow drawl replaced by a tone that sounded oddly… proper.
Greg froze, dropping heavily into his seat with an infuriated groan. What now?
"Oh no, everything's fine, Ms. V," Sparky continued, grinning brightly as he watched Greg fume. "Me and Greg are just over at my place doing homework."
"What are you doing?" Greg mouthed.
Sparky ignored him. "Oh, you know just helping Greg with Geometry while he helps me out with English homework. Stuff like that, you know, but I just wanted to call and ask you something."
"Seriously, what are you doing?" Greg actually spoke this time, raising his voice to a whisper as he nervously ran a hand through his hair, the other tapping against the linoleum of the table.
Continuing to ignore him, Sparky tilted his head away from Greg. "The two of us were gonna work out with my dad's equipment and I just wanted to know if it'd be okay if he stayed over till around eight or nine, so we could hang out for a bit and exercise and stuff. That okay?"
Oh. Greg blinked, a smile beginning to grow on his face as he realized what Sparky was doing.
"Thanks a lot, Ms. V," Sparky said after a brief pause. "I'll tell my mom you said hi." With that, Sparky slapped the phone shut, the smile on his face disappearing in an instant to be replaced with his trademark blank stare. "Well, that's taken care of."
Greg's nose wrinkled as he stared at his friend. "What's taken care of exactly?"
"Your mom asking any weird questions about what you're doing." Sparky raised a single eyebrow. "I'm guessing you haven't told her about your powers, right?"
"Nope." Greg shook his head, a slight burst of awkward laughter leaving him as Sparky palmed his face again.
"See, brah, I can't even say anything 'cause that might be the smartest thing you've done since you got your powers," Sparky remarked, a hint of exasperation in his tone. "And that's really saying something."
"Really?" Grinning, Greg sat up straight. "Thanks, Sparks."
Greg found himself the recipient of another flat stare. "That wasn't a c…" Sparky let the rest of his sentence trail off with a tired sigh. "Just let it go, Sparky," Greg heard him mutter. Grabbing his beanie off the table, he pulled it on. "Come on, genius. We're going to my place."
The blond blinked, his mouth falling open slightly, as Sparky stood up with his backpack in hand. A pale hand pointed down at the menu in front of him. "But we didn't eat yet…"
Sparky's brow furrowed, his blank expression dipping into a slight frown. "No, we're not eating. We gotta figure out what's up with this game of yours. Besides, we have food at my place."
"But… but…" Greg stared longingly at the menu again, "Come on, Sparks. We can just go to the pick-up window. We don't have to eat here."
"Dude, no," Sparky groaned, tapping his foot on the tile floor. "I bought us like five hours at most with your mom. I'm gonna make the most out of that."
Greg paused for a moment, Sparky still staring at him. One could almost see the gears turning in his head as he tried to find something to say, several options coming to mind quickly being discarded. After a few seconds, Greg glanced up at his friend, an idea coming to mind. You freakin' genius.
"I'll pay for all the food you want."
Through using other's motivations for your own benefit, you have gained 1 CHA.
Sparky froze in place, a look of dull surprise on his face as he locked eyes with Greg. "Did you just say all?"
Greg grinned widely.
Sparky joined him a moment later.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
10 Minutes Later
"Thirty-eight dollars, man?" Greg repeated for the fifth time, staring disbelievingly at the receipt in his hands. Sparky sat in the seat next to him, a smug grin on his face. "How do you spend four times what I did?"
The glutton in question shrugged his shoulders, the action slightly awkward to pull off considering his hands were occupied by a large bag filled with fast food. "You said all."
Greg stammered for a few moments before letting out an exasperated groan, leaning back into the uncomfortable bus seat. "Oh, I'm sorry. I guess it's my fault that I forgot you had a stomach like Goku, and not a human being."
Sparky made an amused noise. "Well, you'll remember next time."
Greg made a sound like a choking cat and sunk further in his seat. "Just hand me my fries."
Wow. I just made him a cape that was just as much of an airhead as his canonical self was portrayed to be (in like one paragraph, granted.) This is much better.
Wow. I just made him a cape that was just as much of an airhead as his canonical self was portrayed to be (in like one paragraph, granted.) This is much better.
I wanted to keep some of his airheaded and aloof traits but also balance it with him being the calmer, more reasonable blue oni to Greg's emotional, hyper red oni.
Leaning in, Sparky slapped both hands flat against the black surface of the table, gritted his teeth and hissed, "Are you fucking retarded, brah?"
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.)
Damn kinda can't wait for Greg to get to cap level, though what would the stats look like? Also when you wrote unencumbered for some reason I imagined a nude Greg running super fast while yelling 'for science!'
Sweet balls Cap is min-maxed to hell and gone. I mean, holy shit those stats are munchkin-y like no one's business.
Also, sidebar: is it possible for Greg to gain/lose traits (ie feats or whatever they're called in the Gamer-verse)? For example, could Ambiguous Disorder be lost or get worse?
I was working on the next chapter and then went back to review the fight between Sophia and Greg. I realized that thankfully, Greg is most likely hitting within human norms. In fact, he's most likely hitting around the same level as some pretty good heavyweight pro-boxers. Ricky Hatton, the welterweight world champ back in '07 hit with a force of roughly 400 kg or nearly 4000 Newtons. In comparison, Mike Tyson was rumored to punch with around 635 kg, compared to his rival at the time.
Hatton has an average punch speed of 25 MPH with a couple blows reaching 32 MPH. The human average punch speed is about 12-15 mph, remarkably similar to the average top sprint speed.
Taking into account that Greg had 28 STR (560 lbs overhead lift) during the Sophia fight and 20 SPD (25 mph top running speed), let's attribute his striking speed to be somewhere in the limits of his movement speed. With that in mind, Greg should be punching somewhere between Hatton and Tyson at this point, far closer to Hatton than Tyson, though.
Edit: For those who are wondering, this also means that Greg is a far cry from throwing out a Captain America punch or even a Winter Soldier-level punch anytime soon. I'll explain exactly why in a later post.
Getting back to it on the MCU Captain America comparison, Greg is far from Super Soldier material just yet.
Cap's lifting and striking strength is way above anything Greg could mete out on his own just yet.
This scene in the Avengers in which Cap broke this bag and sent it flying displayed exactly how superhuman MCU Mr. Rogers is.
The average pro punching bag is roughly 50 kg and given that the bag traveled roughly 11-12 feet from Cap's fist (3.6 meters), as well as the fact that it was in flight for about half a second, we can conclude that it was moving at roughly 8 m/s. Acceleration would equal roughly 800 m/s squared.
Using the formula F=ma, (which IMHO is not that great for striking force but good enough) we can work the force out as being 50kg x 800m/s2 = 40,000 N of force. This is equivalent to 9000 pound force, or 4000 kg.
That's about ten times the average force of what Greg is assumed to be hitting at right now. That's not all. Look at how hard he kicks.
All that man's ribs are broken. Let's not lie here. He repeats that same feat multiple times, doing it to other Hydra soldiers, Crossbones. Hell, he kicks a Jeep and doesn't even flinch.
Considering Cap can easily lift a motorcycle with women on it, we can easily assume that his casual strength surpasses half a ton. Greg is about 1/4 of a ton right now. Also, look at this throw.
Considering that the weight requirement for a US soldier in WWII was 150 lbs and Germany was similar, Cap just threw 150 lbs like it was nothing, without even taking a good stance.
Now, the one area where Greg can match up is his running speed, somewhat (By that, I mean not really). In Winter Soldier 2, Steve was said to run 13 miles in 30 minutes. That's an average pace of 26 mph and he wasn't even exhausted afterwards. Keep that in mind.
Greg can only run at top speed (25 mph) so long before he burns out all his Will and drops to the ground, exhausted. However, an unencumbered 30 minute run at top speed is slightly out of his capability. Maybe 15 minutes at most. Make of that what you will.
IIRC, one of his debuffs is a massive percentage debuff. Applying points there will give him little gain until he gets rid of it. To be clear: if he put 100 points there, his stat would be 10.
