ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Hulk would have a trait or skill entitled Gamma Strength that would take whatever his normal human strength score is and increase it by Insane percentages.
Greg Veder vs The World (Worm x The Gamer)
- Thread starter ZFighter18
- Start date
- Crossover
-
- Tags
- worm greg veder gamer (litrpg)
Hulk would have a trait or skill entitled Gamma Strength that would take whatever his normal human strength score is and increase it by Insane percentages.
Darchias
Pokemon Professor
- Location
- Texas
So with +9 CHA and -90% CHA, here are the benchmarks he needs to hit to increase it. He appears to round up at least a little bit considering his current CHA of 2 results from a natural CHA of 8 rather than 11, so I'm going to assume as soon as it hits the halfway mark it counts as 2 since final scores appear to be only whole numbers.
1 = 1
6 = 2
16 = 3
26 = 4
36 = 5
etc...
1 = 1
6 = 2
16 = 3
26 = 4
36 = 5
etc...
- Location
- Earth Prime
And it's telling that he'd need an unmodified WIS about 25% higher than his STR currently is to have a final WIS that's still lower than most teenagers'.
If he ever got that high, and got his disorder fixed, he'd be a figure out of religious legend for his wisdom and insight.
Darchias
Pokemon Professor
- Location
- Texas
Eh... it's tricky. Theoretically it's fixable with either magic or parahuman bullshit (the usual suspect for fixing this kind of thing is Cranial, the neurology tinker in Toybox), most likely it's Social (Pragmatic) Communication Disorder, a relatively recently coined disorder that was created due to the wide range of symptoms of those formerly diagnosed with Asperger's disorder. Some people previously diagnosed with Asperger's were shuffled into the Autistic Spectrum Disorder, particularly those with 'restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior, interests, or activites.'
Social Communication Disorder is characterized by 'difficulty with the social use of language and communication, as manifested by deficits in understanding and following social rules of verbal and non-verbal communication in naturalistic contexts, changing language according to the needs of the listener or situation and following rules for conversations and story-telling.' The important thing about this diagnosis is that the symptoms must not be associated with any cognitive issues, such as intellectual disability or some other communication disorder.
I admire Zfighter18's decision to instead use 'unspecified disorder' instead as if he had specified a disorder he would deal with endless debates about how Greg doesn't follow every criteria or perhaps people complaining about how he's mechanically representing it. If it were me and I decided to specify he had Social Communication Disorder, I would probably of made it only affect Charisma, for example, but he chose to be as vague as possible so it can serve the mechanical effect and story effect he wanted. It was a good plan to not be more specific. Now the only complaints you have is people complaining about how Greg is forced out of a mage build due to being essentially unable to increase Wisdom and people who are complaining that you chose unspecified because they want to complain about the above.
Social Communication Disorder is characterized by 'difficulty with the social use of language and communication, as manifested by deficits in understanding and following social rules of verbal and non-verbal communication in naturalistic contexts, changing language according to the needs of the listener or situation and following rules for conversations and story-telling.' The important thing about this diagnosis is that the symptoms must not be associated with any cognitive issues, such as intellectual disability or some other communication disorder.
I admire Zfighter18's decision to instead use 'unspecified disorder' instead as if he had specified a disorder he would deal with endless debates about how Greg doesn't follow every criteria or perhaps people complaining about how he's mechanically representing it. If it were me and I decided to specify he had Social Communication Disorder, I would probably of made it only affect Charisma, for example, but he chose to be as vague as possible so it can serve the mechanical effect and story effect he wanted. It was a good plan to not be more specific. Now the only complaints you have is people complaining about how Greg is forced out of a mage build due to being essentially unable to increase Wisdom and people who are complaining that you chose unspecified because they want to complain about the above.
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- Location
- Earth Prime
Most of the complaints actually center around how his low WIS excuses/requires his bad decision-making, and they want to see him "grow out of it." While I sympathize, I think they're not realizing how early in the narrative this is, and that he IS growing. It just takes time.
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
I wanted to make the Gamer fit Worm a bit more so WIS isn't necessarily the GOD stat when it comes to the Mage Build here. It has its uses in the Mage Build but only early-on and it's less of a problem later on.
Ample Accelerate
Gotta stab fast
- Location
- Texas
Basically, Greg is Second Lieutenant America.
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
...yes. Or, better yet, Will Simpson as Nuke from Jessica Jones.
SneakyWalrus
Is the Water Free?
There's also these scenes to take into account for Cap's capabilities.
I've said it before and I'll say it again, puberty hit Greg like a truck.
- Location
- United Kingdom
Most amusing. Particularly where he keeps leaving dead people around.
Buff 3.9
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Buff 3.9
"So, where are your parents?" Greg asked Sparky as his friend locked the front door behind them. The house was quiet and dark, obviously apart from the two of them.
Greg pursed his lips in confusion, wondering why that was. The few times he'd been here, the place had been relatively lively with Sparky's mom fluttering in and out of places while music blared from a speaker somewhere in the house.
From what he knew, Sparky's mom spent nearly all her free time at home. He wasn't too sure about his dad but he knew the man owned a Mexican restaurant, so the guy had to be pretty busy, right?
At least, Greg assumed so. He wasn't over at his friend's house all that often, Sparky often came over to his place to hang out.
Sparky's house, despite being somewhat smaller than Greg's, was furnished far more… creatively. Due to his mother's profession as a sculptor and her habit of dabbling in other art forms, her unsold pieces often filled the open spaces. As a result, even in the dim lighting, the place looked rather lively.
"Oh, them," Sparky replied flatly, flicking on the light switch without even turning his head. As light flooded the room, he shrugged.
"They're… uh," he began to walk, Greg following right behind him as he made his way toward the stairs. "They're in Boston," Sparky paused to clear his throat, "At...uhh, at a hotel for the weekend."
"A hotel?" Greg blinked, obviously confused. "Why? What's going on in Boston?"
Sparky let out a sigh as he walked up towards the second floor. "They're just having some together… time."
This prompted Greg to tilt his head, his hand alighting on the banister as he followed Sparky from behind. "Together time?"
"Together time." Sparky frowned, the curve of his mouth visible from where Greg stood. "They do it every two weeks, leaving me alone at home for the weekend." He paused for a moment, halting as they reached the top of the stairs and flicking Greg a blank stare. "Not that I hate it, get me?"
"Sure," Greg replied, his voice bright despite his persistent confusion as to what exactly Sparky was talking about. "I get you."
"Well, let's do this," Sparky said as the two reached the first door on the right as they left the stairs. Grabbing a key hanging from a rack on the wall, Sparky unlocked the door, flinging it open and gesturing for Greg to enter.
Greg did, stepping through the threshold only to pause, his eyes widening as he took in the room. "Whoa."
"I know, right?" Sparky stepped up next to him, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face that almost seemed… proud. "Dad put almost fifteen grand into this place."
"I can…" Greg nodded slowly, taking in everything. "I can definitely see that."
Exercise equipment filled up most of the space that made up the room, a separate area covered with mats clearly for some other purpose. So many dumbbells, intimidatingly large weight plates covered in brightly colored rubber and a long, silver barbell took up one side of the room along with several floor-to-ceiling mirrors.
Next to all that was a structure that seemed solely designed for pull-ups, with several cloth straps attached to it as well as a bunch of rubber robes for some reason. Everything else was just complicate equipment that he couldn't make heads or tails of.
Greg couldn't deny that the room itself was the epitome of a home gym. "Huh."
"What?" Sparky gave him a look.
"You know, you've never shown me this before," Greg mused aloud, still taking in the undoubtedly expensive exercise equipment.
"Why would I?" Sparky replied, eyebrow raised. "This is my dad's workout room. I only do cardio, anyway, and that shit's in the basement, so I'm almost never in here."
Greg nodded slowly. "Fair enough. So, what are we doing first?"
"Hmm… first, I'm gonna need you to do me a favor."
The blond tilted his head. "Hmm?"
Sparky turned to face Greg, gaze going from his head to his toes as he slowly gave his friend a once-over. "...lose the clothes."
Blue eyes blinked rapidly.
"...what?"
Greg entered the exercise room again, rolling his eyes as he saw Sparky smirking at him.
"You know, you could have just said that you were gonna give me a pair of shorts," the blond began, pulling his arms back in a lazy stretch.
Sparky's smirk twitched. "Yeah, but your face, though. You looked so weirded out."
"Sparks…" Greg whined, his face reddening slightly.
He let out a scoff, openly grinning as Greg pouted. "Oh, stop being a baby."
The two of them stood shirtless in the exercise room, the only thing they had on their bodies being socks, shorts, and underwear. While it was a tad drafty, Greg didn't make mention of it and Sparky didn't seem to be that uncomfortable as he looked over the machines in front of him.
"Okay, now, you said your STR is at 28, right?" Sparky mused aloud, a hand caressing his hairless chin.
Greg nodded. "Yep."
"Well, we need to test what that means in the real world so use that Observe thing on me. Check my stats, brah."
Greg shrugged and looked straight at his friend. "I don't think it'll do that but… sure. [Observe.]"
Greg shook his head. "No stats, except for health. That's 200. Everything else is just flavor text."
"Flavor text? You know what, I'll find out later." Sparky glanced over towards the weight equipment, gaze flicking between the actual machines and the more mundane weight tools, "Let's check out those barbells first."
Greg frowned, paling slightly as he took in the massive weight bar. "I dunno, man. That thing looks kinda heavy," he remarked, an uncertain tone in his voice.
Instead of simply replying, Sparky gave him a hard slap on the back, prompting a yelp from Greg, the blond teen jumping slightly. "You'll be fine."
Rubbing his back slightly, Greg frowned. "Jerk."
"Test 1," Sparky spoke aloud, a pen and notebook in hand. "Fifty-five pounds. You ready?"
"Uh yeah," Greg shrugged, shooting Sparky a slightly annoyed glance. "Thing is, I'm pretty sure I can lift over a hundred pounds, though. Now, at least."
Sparky waved him off. "Testing purposes. Just do it."
Greg shook his head and turned to face the dumbbell. He had been wondering what his actual limit was right now or at least what the numbers meant on his Stat screen. Well, ever since Sparky brought it up, he had. At least, now, he could have some idea.
Gripping the dumbbell in both hands in what was most likely an incredibly bad stance, Greg easily lifted the bar, raising it over his head in a single movement. Greg looked up at the bar in his hands, a somewhat pensive look on his face. After a moment, he grinned and let one hand go, his other hand easily supporting the bar on it's own. "Done."
Sparky took a step closer. "This isn't pushing it at all, brah?"
Greg smirked. "Nope."
The mixed teen nodded. "Kay, moving on."
"Test 2; One-hundred pounds."
Greg lifted the slightly heavier bar above his head without too much effort and held it there. "Done."
Sparky quickly made a note in his book, before glancing back up. "No prob?"
Greg shook his head a bit hesitantly. "Not… really."
"Mmhmm, little prob, then." Another scribble in the book. "Can you do the one arm thing?"
Greg frowned, letting let one hand go for a moment before the bar began to wobble in his other hand. Flinching, Greg quickly grabbed hold of the bar again with both hands. He shook his head at Sparky. "That… No, I don't think so."
Sparky nodded, making another note in the book. "Got it."
"Test 4; Two-hundred pounds."
Greg nodded and gripped the bar, the weights on the sides beginning to truly stack up in size. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled the bar off the ground and lifted it overhead, the motion noticeably slower than the previous attempts. "Okay, this is still pretty doable. Startin' to feel it, though."
"Gotcha," Sparky muttered, sitting on a weight bench, his shirt now on. "So, on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being like nothing and 10 being impossible to lift, how much does this weigh to you?"
Greg frowned, the bar still over his head. He glanced up at the bar in his grip and then back to Sparky, mulling the question over in his head. "I'd say this is a three, maybe. Possibly four."
"Huh, next up."
"Test nine; Four-hundred and fifty pounds."
Greg bent down, squatting as he gripped the bar. With a grunt, he began to pull and the dumbbell began to rise. With another, much more audible grunt, Greg lifted the bar over his head and held it there. Droplets of sweat were visible on his forehead from the effort as he kept the bar raised but he persisted. "Done," he said, voice clearly strained.
"1 to 10?" Sparky asked.
"Eight and a half, maybe?" Greg replied, his voice relaxing somewhat as he began to get used to the weight on his arms.
"How long do you think you can hold it, brah?" Sparky asked, raising an eyebrow as he saw Greg's arm muscles bulge slightly. "Like, max."
The blond frowned, shaking his head. "I dunno… max? Maybe ten, fifteen? Fifteen minutes before my arms give out, I guess."
"Okay, let's move to step 11."
"You got this, brah?"
"...nnngggghhh…."
"Brah?"
"...nnnghh…" Greg let out another grunt as he heaved the heavily laden bar up to his chest, sweat pouring down his brow as he continued struggling. "...shut. Up. please."
His eyes were shut tight, veins visible on his forehead and arms as he raised the bar higher and higher. His arms were criss-crossing paths of veins as they bulged out from the effort he was putting in. Come on! Come on!
"Yeaaaah!" With a triumphant scream, Greg raised the bar all the way into the air. Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes and, after blinking away the sweat falling in his eyes, he stared into Sparky's gaping face.
"Dude…"
"How much... did you say... this was again?" Greg said, pausing to take gulping breaths.
"Test 11," Sparky repeated, "Five-hundred and fifty pounds."
Arms beginning to shake under the pressure, Greg lowered the bar to the floor, letting out a relieved sigh as it hit the mat beneath his feet. "Yeah, pretty sure that's my limit. Nine and a half, right here."
"Pretty sure?" Sparky raised an eyebrow. "I figure you could have taken about five or ten pounds more but..."
Greg shot him a tired glare. "My limit. That was it."
Sparky shrugged. "If you say so, okay. Seeing as how your limit seems to be about five-fifty, it seems like your strength stat is about twenty pounds per point. I mean, it could be exponential or quadratic but considering a 2 probably isn't the same strength as a baby..." He raised an eyebrow again. "I really doubt it."
Greg blinked, standing up straight. "Cool."
Grinning, Sparky patted him on the back. "Yep, and it's gonna be even cooler when we find out what your SPD stat means."
Greg let out a groan as Sparky began to shepherd his sweaty body out of the weight room.
"Oh, shut up, we still gotta write down your skills and shit too."
Greg groaned even louder.
A/N: I ended up cutting this chapter in half, considering I wasn't done and it was already over 3k words. Anyway, I planned on adding on a full listing of Greg's current skills, traits and abilities as they are now but I'll save that till next chapter.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"So, where are your parents?" Greg asked Sparky as his friend locked the front door behind them. The house was quiet and dark, obviously apart from the two of them.
Greg pursed his lips in confusion, wondering why that was. The few times he'd been here, the place had been relatively lively with Sparky's mom fluttering in and out of places while music blared from a speaker somewhere in the house.
From what he knew, Sparky's mom spent nearly all her free time at home. He wasn't too sure about his dad but he knew the man owned a Mexican restaurant, so the guy had to be pretty busy, right?
At least, Greg assumed so. He wasn't over at his friend's house all that often, Sparky often came over to his place to hang out.
Sparky's house, despite being somewhat smaller than Greg's, was furnished far more… creatively. Due to his mother's profession as a sculptor and her habit of dabbling in other art forms, her unsold pieces often filled the open spaces. As a result, even in the dim lighting, the place looked rather lively.
"Oh, them," Sparky replied flatly, flicking on the light switch without even turning his head. As light flooded the room, he shrugged.
"They're… uh," he began to walk, Greg following right behind him as he made his way toward the stairs. "They're in Boston," Sparky paused to clear his throat, "At...uhh, at a hotel for the weekend."
"A hotel?" Greg blinked, obviously confused. "Why? What's going on in Boston?"
Sparky let out a sigh as he walked up towards the second floor. "They're just having some together… time."
This prompted Greg to tilt his head, his hand alighting on the banister as he followed Sparky from behind. "Together time?"
"Together time." Sparky frowned, the curve of his mouth visible from where Greg stood. "They do it every two weeks, leaving me alone at home for the weekend." He paused for a moment, halting as they reached the top of the stairs and flicking Greg a blank stare. "Not that I hate it, get me?"
"Sure," Greg replied, his voice bright despite his persistent confusion as to what exactly Sparky was talking about. "I get you."
"Well, let's do this," Sparky said as the two reached the first door on the right as they left the stairs. Grabbing a key hanging from a rack on the wall, Sparky unlocked the door, flinging it open and gesturing for Greg to enter.
Greg did, stepping through the threshold only to pause, his eyes widening as he took in the room. "Whoa."
"I know, right?" Sparky stepped up next to him, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face that almost seemed… proud. "Dad put almost fifteen grand into this place."
"I can…" Greg nodded slowly, taking in everything. "I can definitely see that."
Exercise equipment filled up most of the space that made up the room, a separate area covered with mats clearly for some other purpose. So many dumbbells, intimidatingly large weight plates covered in brightly colored rubber and a long, silver barbell took up one side of the room along with several floor-to-ceiling mirrors.
Next to all that was a structure that seemed solely designed for pull-ups, with several cloth straps attached to it as well as a bunch of rubber robes for some reason. Everything else was just complicate equipment that he couldn't make heads or tails of.
Greg couldn't deny that the room itself was the epitome of a home gym. "Huh."
"What?" Sparky gave him a look.
"You know, you've never shown me this before," Greg mused aloud, still taking in the undoubtedly expensive exercise equipment.
"Why would I?" Sparky replied, eyebrow raised. "This is my dad's workout room. I only do cardio, anyway, and that shit's in the basement, so I'm almost never in here."
Greg nodded slowly. "Fair enough. So, what are we doing first?"
"Hmm… first, I'm gonna need you to do me a favor."
The blond tilted his head. "Hmm?"
Sparky turned to face Greg, gaze going from his head to his toes as he slowly gave his friend a once-over. "...lose the clothes."
Blue eyes blinked rapidly.
"...what?"
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
Greg entered the exercise room again, rolling his eyes as he saw Sparky smirking at him.
"You know, you could have just said that you were gonna give me a pair of shorts," the blond began, pulling his arms back in a lazy stretch.
Sparky's smirk twitched. "Yeah, but your face, though. You looked so weirded out."
"Sparks…" Greg whined, his face reddening slightly.
He let out a scoff, openly grinning as Greg pouted. "Oh, stop being a baby."
The two of them stood shirtless in the exercise room, the only thing they had on their bodies being socks, shorts, and underwear. While it was a tad drafty, Greg didn't make mention of it and Sparky didn't seem to be that uncomfortable as he looked over the machines in front of him.
"Okay, now, you said your STR is at 28, right?" Sparky mused aloud, a hand caressing his hairless chin.
Greg nodded. "Yep."
"Well, we need to test what that means in the real world so use that Observe thing on me. Check my stats, brah."
Greg shrugged and looked straight at his friend. "I don't think it'll do that but… sure. [Observe.]"
Greg shook his head. "No stats, except for health. That's 200. Everything else is just flavor text."
"Flavor text? You know what, I'll find out later." Sparky glanced over towards the weight equipment, gaze flicking between the actual machines and the more mundane weight tools, "Let's check out those barbells first."
Greg frowned, paling slightly as he took in the massive weight bar. "I dunno, man. That thing looks kinda heavy," he remarked, an uncertain tone in his voice.
Instead of simply replying, Sparky gave him a hard slap on the back, prompting a yelp from Greg, the blond teen jumping slightly. "You'll be fine."
Rubbing his back slightly, Greg frowned. "Jerk."
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"Test 1," Sparky spoke aloud, a pen and notebook in hand. "Fifty-five pounds. You ready?"
"Uh yeah," Greg shrugged, shooting Sparky a slightly annoyed glance. "Thing is, I'm pretty sure I can lift over a hundred pounds, though. Now, at least."
Sparky waved him off. "Testing purposes. Just do it."
Greg shook his head and turned to face the dumbbell. He had been wondering what his actual limit was right now or at least what the numbers meant on his Stat screen. Well, ever since Sparky brought it up, he had. At least, now, he could have some idea.
Gripping the dumbbell in both hands in what was most likely an incredibly bad stance, Greg easily lifted the bar, raising it over his head in a single movement. Greg looked up at the bar in his hands, a somewhat pensive look on his face. After a moment, he grinned and let one hand go, his other hand easily supporting the bar on it's own. "Done."
Sparky took a step closer. "This isn't pushing it at all, brah?"
Greg smirked. "Nope."
The mixed teen nodded. "Kay, moving on."
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"Test 2; One-hundred pounds."
Greg lifted the slightly heavier bar above his head without too much effort and held it there. "Done."
Sparky quickly made a note in his book, before glancing back up. "No prob?"
Greg shook his head a bit hesitantly. "Not… really."
"Mmhmm, little prob, then." Another scribble in the book. "Can you do the one arm thing?"
Greg frowned, letting let one hand go for a moment before the bar began to wobble in his other hand. Flinching, Greg quickly grabbed hold of the bar again with both hands. He shook his head at Sparky. "That… No, I don't think so."
Sparky nodded, making another note in the book. "Got it."
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"Test 4; Two-hundred pounds."
Greg nodded and gripped the bar, the weights on the sides beginning to truly stack up in size. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled the bar off the ground and lifted it overhead, the motion noticeably slower than the previous attempts. "Okay, this is still pretty doable. Startin' to feel it, though."
"Gotcha," Sparky muttered, sitting on a weight bench, his shirt now on. "So, on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being like nothing and 10 being impossible to lift, how much does this weigh to you?"
Greg frowned, the bar still over his head. He glanced up at the bar in his grip and then back to Sparky, mulling the question over in his head. "I'd say this is a three, maybe. Possibly four."
"Huh, next up."
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"Test nine; Four-hundred and fifty pounds."
Greg bent down, squatting as he gripped the bar. With a grunt, he began to pull and the dumbbell began to rise. With another, much more audible grunt, Greg lifted the bar over his head and held it there. Droplets of sweat were visible on his forehead from the effort as he kept the bar raised but he persisted. "Done," he said, voice clearly strained.
"1 to 10?" Sparky asked.
"Eight and a half, maybe?" Greg replied, his voice relaxing somewhat as he began to get used to the weight on his arms.
"How long do you think you can hold it, brah?" Sparky asked, raising an eyebrow as he saw Greg's arm muscles bulge slightly. "Like, max."
The blond frowned, shaking his head. "I dunno… max? Maybe ten, fifteen? Fifteen minutes before my arms give out, I guess."
"Okay, let's move to step 11."
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"You got this, brah?"
"...nnngggghhh…."
"Brah?"
"...nnnghh…" Greg let out another grunt as he heaved the heavily laden bar up to his chest, sweat pouring down his brow as he continued struggling. "...shut. Up. please."
His eyes were shut tight, veins visible on his forehead and arms as he raised the bar higher and higher. His arms were criss-crossing paths of veins as they bulged out from the effort he was putting in. Come on! Come on!
"Yeaaaah!" With a triumphant scream, Greg raised the bar all the way into the air. Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes and, after blinking away the sweat falling in his eyes, he stared into Sparky's gaping face.
"Dude…"
"How much... did you say... this was again?" Greg said, pausing to take gulping breaths.
"Test 11," Sparky repeated, "Five-hundred and fifty pounds."
Arms beginning to shake under the pressure, Greg lowered the bar to the floor, letting out a relieved sigh as it hit the mat beneath his feet. "Yeah, pretty sure that's my limit. Nine and a half, right here."
"Pretty sure?" Sparky raised an eyebrow. "I figure you could have taken about five or ten pounds more but..."
Greg shot him a tired glare. "My limit. That was it."
Sparky shrugged. "If you say so, okay. Seeing as how your limit seems to be about five-fifty, it seems like your strength stat is about twenty pounds per point. I mean, it could be exponential or quadratic but considering a 2 probably isn't the same strength as a baby..." He raised an eyebrow again. "I really doubt it."
Greg blinked, standing up straight. "Cool."
Grinning, Sparky patted him on the back. "Yep, and it's gonna be even cooler when we find out what your SPD stat means."
Greg let out a groan as Sparky began to shepherd his sweaty body out of the weight room.
"Oh, shut up, we still gotta write down your skills and shit too."
Greg groaned even louder.
A/N: I ended up cutting this chapter in half, considering I wasn't done and it was already over 3k words. Anyway, I planned on adding on a full listing of Greg's current skills, traits and abilities as they are now but I'll save that till next chapter.
- Location
- Earth Prime
Sparky having a CHARACTER is unique to this fanfic.
And it's great!
CedeTheBees
Probably high right now
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Ah. So it's gonna be that kinda fic, I see... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
- Location
- Barcelona, Catalunya, EU (for now)
Yeah. For some reason, this was the background music that was playing in my head:
And it's nice to see Greg is still being his clueless self. "Together time" indeed.
CedeTheBees
Probably high right now
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Hot damn that's a catchy tune. Also perfect background for this new otp workout scene
One day, Greg will turn 25, and someone will give him The Talk.
"Greg, adults who love each other very much will make out sometimes."
"EWWWWWWWW!!!"
Icecoldfunk
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Australia
Am I the only one suspicious of $15k of previously hidden exercise equipment......and fortnightly trips to boston......
Sparky's parents are either capes and/or work for Accord.
Sparky's parents are either capes and/or work for Accord.
- Location
- Barcelona, Catalunya, EU (for now)
Well, Greg thought that Sparky's dad owned a Mexican restaurant and his mother was a sculptor.
Both are professions that have irregular hours, and can give lots of free time without excessive explanations.
And a popular restaurant can give lots of income. Besides that, nowhere we're told that the gym equipment was bought all at once.
As for Boston, IIRC in canon is the closest big city to Brockton Bay. It makes sense that if Sparky's parents want to "get lost" to have some "together time", they either go to a deserted place, like an inn in the middle of nowhere, or to a big city.
All of this doesn't discard that they might be capes, but it does discard them working for Accord. They go to Boston only two days out of two weeks. The rest of the time Sparky sees them daily.
And if they are capes, they definitely are not canon capes. Most likely non-canon rogues. They definitely are not Asians, and their apparent level of income discards them as Merchants. Also, with their apparent level of income, if they were Empire, they wouldn't have Sparky attending Winslow, of all places. He'd be most likely in Arcadia or Immaculata.
Yeah. Most of the song is actually covers of songs from the 80s, and everyone knows that the best (also the worst) music came out in the 80s.
Well, he did make out with Emma, even if they were interrupted. So the Talk will not gross out him that much. It's the implications that Sparky's parents go away to do the deed that might bring him over the edge. And God help him if he realizes that for him being there means that his parents have had to have sex at least once.
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
He realises it. It was mentioned that he thought if not for Gamer's Mind in 1.5, he might need therapy for finding his mom's leg warmers.
- Location
- Barcelona, Catalunya, EU (for now)
Not exactly. He realizes that his mother might have had sex, due to the leg warmers. And that mental image was enough to provoke his "ewww" reaction.
The mental image of his mother having sex with his father, and the fact that he's the living proof of that happening at least once, has not entered yet in his psyche, due to his cluenessless, failing to put together the facts. His ultra low WIS and INT make sure of that. So, to me at least, that's an incoming trauma, laying in ambush.
But you're the Author, and if you say so, well... Congratulations on your first official Word of God.
Buff 3.10
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Buff 3.10
7:12 PM
Greg stood slumped against the wall of Sparky's living room with a bottle of blue Gatorade in one hand, catching his breath as his Will began to recover.
Sparky sat on the couch, writing a bunch of notes into that same stupid notebook. All the data he had put down had been everything from the speed Greg could run (25 mph), to the length of time he could keep that speed up before his will gave out (20 minutes) and everything else like that, leading to the long-haired teen theorizing that Greg's speed stat seemed to increase by 1.25 mph with every point, most likely.
All those running tests had led to Sparky asking Greg all sorts of questions that he didn't really think were necessary, like, "Does that mean your Will usage rate stays constant given your new level of top ability or do you use more Will now that your physical stats are higher?".
When Greg had replied with a shrug, Sparky had shaken his head and waved him off. After Greg thought about it though, he thought it generally stayed constant, but Sparky didn't want to take his word for it.
So, he had him run back and forth until his Will dropped to zero. While Sparky didn't really get any new information from his tests other than Greg's top speed, Greg did get something out of it.
So, at least it wasn't a total waste.
From there, Sparky had Greg showing off his skills on the punching bag in the basement and Sparky concluded that while his Will-based attacks seemed to increase alongside his strength, they didn't necessarily seem to scale with them.
Greg had to admit that Sparky's point did make some sense. If it did scale, he wouldn't need a critical hit to one-shot most Merchants at this point with 28 STR, considering he'd been doing above 20 damage with 2 STR already.
Sparky had gotten a quick run through on his Mana-based skills, too, with Greg blasting him in the face with his currently max-leveled Aerokinesis. Apparently, just like Brawling, it didn't seem to go past Level 5 for some reason. Even then, Sparky didn't think that was too much of a hindrance for now. Greg didn't really agree, though. I mean, eighty miles per hour winds sounds cool on paper but it wasn't even strong enough to do more than knock Sparky back a little, he had thought to himself, air swirling around his fists. Not exactly Stormtiger-level stuff.
The Aerokinesis reveal led to Sparky silently writing in his notebook for a good five minutes, sneaking glances at Greg while the blonde tried to blast air from somewhere else other than his hands. In the end, Sparky told him to keep practicing with it, in the hope of getting more control over it. Greg shrugged, barely paying attention, but he agreed to at least try.
After taking notes on the rest of his skills and abilities, Sparky started asking questions about his last two stats, the ones that he could think of no way to reasonably measure; WIS and CHA. Specifically, he wanted to know why they were so low and why Greg hadn't yet sunk points into them.
All it took was for Greg to read his traits out loud for Sparky to take a step back, eyes wide. He let out air through gritted teeth and shook his head, simply saying, "Rough luck, brah."
Greg was forced to agree with that assessment.
Now, thankfully, they were done with all the pointless testing and he could finally relax.
"Greg…"
What now? The blond let out a groan, raising his head. "Yeah?"
"Those… uhh… those Gatorades…" Greg perked his head up as Sparky began talking, the mixed teen staring at him with wide eyes.
Greg gestured at him, confused. "You want one?"
"Nah, I'm fine." Sparky shook his head slightly. "It's just… that last one… I'm pretty sure you pulled that out of your shorts. The shorts I gave you." Sparky's eyes were locked tightly onto the bottle in Greg's hands. "How?"
"Oh, that," Greg replied, his tone light as he waved the bottle in his hands. "I forgot I didn't mention that."
"Mention what?"
"My inventory."
"...your what?"
Greg blinked. "My inventory?"
"... your what?"
"So," Sparky let out a long sigh, "you have a personal dimension… tiny universe… thing… whatever... that can carry your stuff for you?"
"Uhhh…" Greg blinked, still leaning against the wall.
"And you just… you just thought this was so not-important that you didn't mention it?" he continued, voice rising slightly. "A literal personal inventory?"
"... yeah."
"Perks, stats, quests and an inventory?" Sparky dropped his face into his open palms and let out a long, tired groan. "So, instead of a power that makes sense, you're just… a game character? That's so fucking… you that it's not even funny."
"I mean…" Greg tilted his head, mulling over the statement in his head for a moment before he shrugged. "I guess so."
"I don't even know anymore." Sparky let out a sigh, leaning back on the couch. Stretching out his body, he glanced back at Greg again, the blond simply looking confused as he stood there, drink in hand. "So… you can carry anything in there, right?"
"Yup," he responded, taking another swig of the Gatorade.
"There a limit?" Sparky brushed some hair out of his eyes, leaning forward on the couch until he was literally at the edge of his seat.
"Uhhh…" Greg responded with a shrug, "I honestly don't know. There's like 25 slots and I haven't used up all of them but if I put the same thing in twice, it only uses one box."
Sparky nodded, touching the pen to the notebook once again when he paused, glancing up at Greg again. "Can you carry anything?"
"Anything I can lift, I think," Greg replied, head tilting slightly.
Sparky's mouth rose in a slight smile. "What about… people?"
Greg tensed, his face paling as he recalled exactly what he did have in his inventory. "... Idontthinkso!"
"Okaaay, just trynna make a joke." His friend raised an eyebrow and Greg tried his hardest not to gulp. "Brah, what do you have in that inventory anyway?"
Greg could hear the confusion in Sparky's voice, something about him giving his friend a clear hint that something was off. "Uhh, n-nothing really big," Greg began, glancing down at his bare feet. "Just some random stuff. A baseball bat, hockey stick, some cigarettes and knives I got off a few Merchants, my costume…" Greg let his voice trail off.
"Hold up," Sparky turned his full attention to Greg, head cocked to the side. "Costume? Lemme see, brah."
"Sure," Greg blinked, relaxing at the change of topic. Oh, that was close. "No problem. [Inventory: Equip Aluminum Bat, Jason Mask, Pretentious Scarf, Nike Zoom, Thick Hoodie, Kickboxing Gloves.]
"Holy shit, brah!" Sparky exclaimed, jumping up from the couch as a set of torn and bloodstained clothes appeared on Greg's body with visible flashes of blue light. A hand went to his chest as he stared at Greg, wide-eyed and obviously freaked out. "Why does it look like you just got off the set of Friday the 13th?"
"I mean," Greg shrugged, gesturing with the bat in his hands. "I told you I fought some guys."
"Okaaaay," Sparky goggled, stepping back even further to avoid being touched by the bat. "You look like you did a hell of a lot more than fight 'em, brah."
The silence stretched between them for a long moment before Greg let out a trickle of nervous laughter. "What? No way. C'mon."
"Whatever," Sparky shook his head, plopping himself back onto the couch.
That was close. Greg let out another sigh of relief, letting his head fall. "[Inventory: Equip Last Outfit.]" With that vocal command, his bloody clothes vanished in another flare of blue, replaced by the pair of black shorts Sparky had loaned him. I gotta get rid of that body somehow. It's taking up space in my inventory, anyway.
"You know," Sparky spoke up a moment later, raising his head again, "I can probably get you something better than that."
"Hmm?"
"A costume, brah," Sparky continued, "I could make you a better one than… what you had on before." He shook his head slightly, tilting it toward Greg as he shot his friend a look. "Something that won't make you look like a knockoff serial killer, you know."
"Thanks, Sparks." Greg replied, smiling brightly.
"Don't mention it," his friend remarked. "Seriously, it's the least I can do to make sure that a. You don't get yourself killed out there, and b. You don't fucking embarrass yourself."
Greg's smile brightened further, widening into an impressive grin. "Thanks, man. That's super awesome of you!"
"Mmhmm, speaking of embarrassing yourself," Sparky gave him a wry glance, "you got a date tomorrow, right?"
Greg nodded, his smile shifting into nervousness. "Oh, yeah. That's… tomorrow."
"It is. Being a good bro, I gotta make sure you make a good impression, right?" Strands of brown hair fell in front of his eyes, giving him a slightly shadowed expression.
"...I guess so," Greg hedged, shrinking against the wall as his friend stood up, wearing a smile on his face that could only be described as… eager.
"Good."
For some reason, Greg found himself wincing at the way Sparky dragged out the word.
7:42 PM
"..." Greg stared at his reflection in Sparky's bathroom mirror, eyes wide.
"Well," Sparky's hands clasped his towel-covered shoulders, leaning over him and flashing a wry smile into the mirror, "whaddya think? Am I good or what?"
"...or what."
His response was met with a snort as Sparky reached over and dropped the scissors into the sink. "Don't lie. You love it."
Greg blinked. "I mean, it's not objectively bad." He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to stare at the sides of the cut. "It's just…"
Sparky rolled his eyes. "Just what, blondie?"
"Does it have to be so spiky?"
"What's wrong with spiky?"
Greg let out a groan, his now-incredibly spiky head falling into his open palms. "I look like the mayor of Flavortown."
A/N: From this chapter onwards, I will have all the level info, stat info, skill, perk, trait… etc, available below at the end of every chapter to keep both myself and everyone else up-to-date on what exactly Greg has improved.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
7:12 PM
Greg stood slumped against the wall of Sparky's living room with a bottle of blue Gatorade in one hand, catching his breath as his Will began to recover.
Sparky sat on the couch, writing a bunch of notes into that same stupid notebook. All the data he had put down had been everything from the speed Greg could run (25 mph), to the length of time he could keep that speed up before his will gave out (20 minutes) and everything else like that, leading to the long-haired teen theorizing that Greg's speed stat seemed to increase by 1.25 mph with every point, most likely.
All those running tests had led to Sparky asking Greg all sorts of questions that he didn't really think were necessary, like, "Does that mean your Will usage rate stays constant given your new level of top ability or do you use more Will now that your physical stats are higher?".
When Greg had replied with a shrug, Sparky had shaken his head and waved him off. After Greg thought about it though, he thought it generally stayed constant, but Sparky didn't want to take his word for it.
So, he had him run back and forth until his Will dropped to zero. While Sparky didn't really get any new information from his tests other than Greg's top speed, Greg did get something out of it.
So, at least it wasn't a total waste.
From there, Sparky had Greg showing off his skills on the punching bag in the basement and Sparky concluded that while his Will-based attacks seemed to increase alongside his strength, they didn't necessarily seem to scale with them.
Greg had to admit that Sparky's point did make some sense. If it did scale, he wouldn't need a critical hit to one-shot most Merchants at this point with 28 STR, considering he'd been doing above 20 damage with 2 STR already.
Sparky had gotten a quick run through on his Mana-based skills, too, with Greg blasting him in the face with his currently max-leveled Aerokinesis. Apparently, just like Brawling, it didn't seem to go past Level 5 for some reason. Even then, Sparky didn't think that was too much of a hindrance for now. Greg didn't really agree, though. I mean, eighty miles per hour winds sounds cool on paper but it wasn't even strong enough to do more than knock Sparky back a little, he had thought to himself, air swirling around his fists. Not exactly Stormtiger-level stuff.
The Aerokinesis reveal led to Sparky silently writing in his notebook for a good five minutes, sneaking glances at Greg while the blonde tried to blast air from somewhere else other than his hands. In the end, Sparky told him to keep practicing with it, in the hope of getting more control over it. Greg shrugged, barely paying attention, but he agreed to at least try.
After taking notes on the rest of his skills and abilities, Sparky started asking questions about his last two stats, the ones that he could think of no way to reasonably measure; WIS and CHA. Specifically, he wanted to know why they were so low and why Greg hadn't yet sunk points into them.
All it took was for Greg to read his traits out loud for Sparky to take a step back, eyes wide. He let out air through gritted teeth and shook his head, simply saying, "Rough luck, brah."
Greg was forced to agree with that assessment.
Now, thankfully, they were done with all the pointless testing and he could finally relax.
"Greg…"
What now? The blond let out a groan, raising his head. "Yeah?"
"Those… uhh… those Gatorades…" Greg perked his head up as Sparky began talking, the mixed teen staring at him with wide eyes.
Greg gestured at him, confused. "You want one?"
"Nah, I'm fine." Sparky shook his head slightly. "It's just… that last one… I'm pretty sure you pulled that out of your shorts. The shorts I gave you." Sparky's eyes were locked tightly onto the bottle in Greg's hands. "How?"
"Oh, that," Greg replied, his tone light as he waved the bottle in his hands. "I forgot I didn't mention that."
"Mention what?"
"My inventory."
"...your what?"
Greg blinked. "My inventory?"
"... your what?"
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"So," Sparky let out a long sigh, "you have a personal dimension… tiny universe… thing… whatever... that can carry your stuff for you?"
"Uhhh…" Greg blinked, still leaning against the wall.
"And you just… you just thought this was so not-important that you didn't mention it?" he continued, voice rising slightly. "A literal personal inventory?"
"... yeah."
"Perks, stats, quests and an inventory?" Sparky dropped his face into his open palms and let out a long, tired groan. "So, instead of a power that makes sense, you're just… a game character? That's so fucking… you that it's not even funny."
"I mean…" Greg tilted his head, mulling over the statement in his head for a moment before he shrugged. "I guess so."
"I don't even know anymore." Sparky let out a sigh, leaning back on the couch. Stretching out his body, he glanced back at Greg again, the blond simply looking confused as he stood there, drink in hand. "So… you can carry anything in there, right?"
"Yup," he responded, taking another swig of the Gatorade.
"There a limit?" Sparky brushed some hair out of his eyes, leaning forward on the couch until he was literally at the edge of his seat.
"Uhhh…" Greg responded with a shrug, "I honestly don't know. There's like 25 slots and I haven't used up all of them but if I put the same thing in twice, it only uses one box."
Sparky nodded, touching the pen to the notebook once again when he paused, glancing up at Greg again. "Can you carry anything?"
"Anything I can lift, I think," Greg replied, head tilting slightly.
Sparky's mouth rose in a slight smile. "What about… people?"
Greg tensed, his face paling as he recalled exactly what he did have in his inventory. "... Idontthinkso!"
"Okaaay, just trynna make a joke." His friend raised an eyebrow and Greg tried his hardest not to gulp. "Brah, what do you have in that inventory anyway?"
Greg could hear the confusion in Sparky's voice, something about him giving his friend a clear hint that something was off. "Uhh, n-nothing really big," Greg began, glancing down at his bare feet. "Just some random stuff. A baseball bat, hockey stick, some cigarettes and knives I got off a few Merchants, my costume…" Greg let his voice trail off.
"Hold up," Sparky turned his full attention to Greg, head cocked to the side. "Costume? Lemme see, brah."
"Sure," Greg blinked, relaxing at the change of topic. Oh, that was close. "No problem. [Inventory: Equip Aluminum Bat, Jason Mask, Pretentious Scarf, Nike Zoom, Thick Hoodie, Kickboxing Gloves.]
"Holy shit, brah!" Sparky exclaimed, jumping up from the couch as a set of torn and bloodstained clothes appeared on Greg's body with visible flashes of blue light. A hand went to his chest as he stared at Greg, wide-eyed and obviously freaked out. "Why does it look like you just got off the set of Friday the 13th?"
"I mean," Greg shrugged, gesturing with the bat in his hands. "I told you I fought some guys."
"Okaaaay," Sparky goggled, stepping back even further to avoid being touched by the bat. "You look like you did a hell of a lot more than fight 'em, brah."
The silence stretched between them for a long moment before Greg let out a trickle of nervous laughter. "What? No way. C'mon."
"Whatever," Sparky shook his head, plopping himself back onto the couch.
That was close. Greg let out another sigh of relief, letting his head fall. "[Inventory: Equip Last Outfit.]" With that vocal command, his bloody clothes vanished in another flare of blue, replaced by the pair of black shorts Sparky had loaned him. I gotta get rid of that body somehow. It's taking up space in my inventory, anyway.
"You know," Sparky spoke up a moment later, raising his head again, "I can probably get you something better than that."
"Hmm?"
"A costume, brah," Sparky continued, "I could make you a better one than… what you had on before." He shook his head slightly, tilting it toward Greg as he shot his friend a look. "Something that won't make you look like a knockoff serial killer, you know."
"Thanks, Sparks." Greg replied, smiling brightly.
"Don't mention it," his friend remarked. "Seriously, it's the least I can do to make sure that a. You don't get yourself killed out there, and b. You don't fucking embarrass yourself."
Greg's smile brightened further, widening into an impressive grin. "Thanks, man. That's super awesome of you!"
"Mmhmm, speaking of embarrassing yourself," Sparky gave him a wry glance, "you got a date tomorrow, right?"
Greg nodded, his smile shifting into nervousness. "Oh, yeah. That's… tomorrow."
"It is. Being a good bro, I gotta make sure you make a good impression, right?" Strands of brown hair fell in front of his eyes, giving him a slightly shadowed expression.
"...I guess so," Greg hedged, shrinking against the wall as his friend stood up, wearing a smile on his face that could only be described as… eager.
"Good."
For some reason, Greg found himself wincing at the way Sparky dragged out the word.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
7:42 PM
"..." Greg stared at his reflection in Sparky's bathroom mirror, eyes wide.
"Well," Sparky's hands clasped his towel-covered shoulders, leaning over him and flashing a wry smile into the mirror, "whaddya think? Am I good or what?"
"...or what."
His response was met with a snort as Sparky reached over and dropped the scissors into the sink. "Don't lie. You love it."
Greg blinked. "I mean, it's not objectively bad." He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to stare at the sides of the cut. "It's just…"
Sparky rolled his eyes. "Just what, blondie?"
"Does it have to be so spiky?"
"What's wrong with spiky?"
Greg let out a groan, his now-incredibly spiky head falling into his open palms. "I look like the mayor of Flavortown."
A/N: From this chapter onwards, I will have all the level info, stat info, skill, perk, trait… etc, available below at the end of every chapter to keep both myself and everyone else up-to-date on what exactly Greg has improved.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
Greg Lucas Veder
Student
Level 7
XP: 1285/14520
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 295/295
MP: 165/165
Will: 145/145
STR: 29
SPD: 21
VIT: 15
INT: 22
WIS: 9 (-7.2 [2])
CHA: 7 ((+9) (-14.4) [2])
Unspent Stat Points: 2
Unspent Perk Points: 0
Cash: $796.22
Student
Level 7
XP: 1285/14520
Age: 15 (and three-quarters!)
HP: 295/295
MP: 165/165
Will: 145/145
STR: 29
SPD: 21
VIT: 15
INT: 22
WIS: 9 (-7.2 [2])
CHA: 7 ((+9) (-14.4) [2])
Unspent Stat Points: 2
Unspent Perk Points: 0
Cash: $796.22
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. (+ 9 CHA)
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. (+ 9 CHA)
Lifegiver (1/10) [Ranked Ability]
Health is more than just not getting sick.
Every time you gain a level, you gain an additional 5 HP for each rank of this perk.
Danger Sense (1/10) [Ranked Skill]
My common sense is tingling.
You gain a sixth sense that allows you to sense the presence of incoming danger.
Health is more than just not getting sick.
Every time you gain a level, you gain an additional 5 HP for each rank of this perk.
Danger Sense (1/10) [Ranked Skill]
My common sense is tingling.
You gain a sixth sense that allows you to sense the presence of incoming danger.
Gamer's Body (Passive) Lv. MAX
Allows you to live life as if were a game.
Sleeping restores HP, MP, Will and removes most negative status effects.
Gamer's Mind (Passive) Lv. MAX
Grants immunity to mental status effects, emotional and mental trauma and severely dangerous emotional states.
Angry Straight Lv 5 (XP: 15%)
Hit like an amateur light-weight using your anger in place of actual, physical muscle.
Damage: 55
Cost: 7 Will
Dash Straight Lv 3 (XP: 65%)
Force equals Mass times Acceleration.
You may suck at physics, but you know that much.
By combining Power Sprint with Angry Straight, you smash your fist into a target while moving at high speed. Damage scales based on distance Power Sprinted. (1.25x Damage Cap)
Damage: 60
Cost: 7 Will + 2 Will for every meter power sprinted
Minor Aerokinesis Lv MAX
All the power of a stiff wind.
Exert the force of your air control over a range of 5 meters. (80 mph)
Cost: 10 mp per second of sustained use
Observe Lv 3 (XP: 65%)
A skill to find out basic information relating to the chosen object.
Cost: 1 MP
Power Sprint Lv 7 (XP: 30%)
Need to get away or get to someplace slightly faster than just regular running? Use this skill.
Increases innate running speed by 5% with every level when active
Cost: 5 Will every ten seconds.
Raging Combo Lv 2 (XP: 55%)
A blistering barrage of belligerent blows built to batter baddies.
By repeatedly using weaker forms of Angry Straight, you pummel your target with raw frustration and anger. (6 Hits)
Damage: 60
Cost: 10 Will
Weapon Charge Lv 1 (XP: 85%)
Boosts weapon damage x 2 for 1 second.
Length of charge increases by 1 second for every level.
Damage multiplier increases by .20 with every level.
Cost: 8 MP
Allows you to live life as if were a game.
Sleeping restores HP, MP, Will and removes most negative status effects.
Gamer's Mind (Passive) Lv. MAX
Grants immunity to mental status effects, emotional and mental trauma and severely dangerous emotional states.
Angry Straight Lv 5 (XP: 15%)
Hit like an amateur light-weight using your anger in place of actual, physical muscle.
Damage: 55
Cost: 7 Will
Dash Straight Lv 3 (XP: 65%)
Force equals Mass times Acceleration.
You may suck at physics, but you know that much.
By combining Power Sprint with Angry Straight, you smash your fist into a target while moving at high speed. Damage scales based on distance Power Sprinted. (1.25x Damage Cap)
Damage: 60
Cost: 7 Will + 2 Will for every meter power sprinted
Minor Aerokinesis Lv MAX
All the power of a stiff wind.
Exert the force of your air control over a range of 5 meters. (80 mph)
Cost: 10 mp per second of sustained use
Observe Lv 3 (XP: 65%)
A skill to find out basic information relating to the chosen object.
Cost: 1 MP
Power Sprint Lv 7 (XP: 30%)
Need to get away or get to someplace slightly faster than just regular running? Use this skill.
Increases innate running speed by 5% with every level when active
Cost: 5 Will every ten seconds.
Raging Combo Lv 2 (XP: 55%)
A blistering barrage of belligerent blows built to batter baddies.
By repeatedly using weaker forms of Angry Straight, you pummel your target with raw frustration and anger. (6 Hits)
Damage: 60
Cost: 10 Will
Weapon Charge Lv 1 (XP: 85%)
Boosts weapon damage x 2 for 1 second.
Length of charge increases by 1 second for every level.
Damage multiplier increases by .20 with every level.
Cost: 8 MP
Acrobatics Lv 1 (XP: 0%)
Parkour!
An ability that enables you to pull off backflips, frontflips and any manner of jumping-based ground-movement technique with greater ease.
Basic Anatomy Lvl 5 (XP: 85%)
Anatomy is to physiology as geography is to history.
Gain a basic understanding of the human body.
Increases [Critical Hit] damage by 10%.
Beginner Combat Lvl 1 (XP: 25%)
I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.
The next level of combat, Beginner Combat is a fusion of fighting and footwork into the ability to learn new styles of combat, fusing them into a novice martial combat capability.
Blunt Force Resistance Lv. 27 (XP: 8%)
Going from punching yourself in the face to actual self-mutilation?
Bold move, Veder. Let's see if it pays off.
Reduce all blunt force damage by 0.75% with every level from attacks less than 100% of your health.
Breath-Holding Lv 6
Asphyxiation is a terrible way to die.
Increases time able to stay conscious without air by 30 seconds per level.
Bullshitting Lv 3 (XP: 25%)
First, you tell a lie; then you believe it; then you become it.
Increases chances that any lie you tell is successful by 2% with every level.
Cold Resistance Lv 6 (XP: 80%)
The cold never stopped bothering you.
Increases resistance to cold temperature by 1% with every level.
Disarm Lv 3 (XP: 25%)
Take their weapon from their warm, living hands.
Increases chance of disarming the enemy by 2% with every level.
Kissing Lv 5 (XP: 75%)
Looks like practicing on a peach actually paid off.
Parry Lv 4 (XP: 60%)
To deflect an attack is a double-edged sword;
Risking more damage for the chance to inflict the same.
Increases the effectiveness of any attempt to divert or deflect a physical attack by 2% with every level.
Piercing Resistance Lv 8 (XP: 50%)
The thrust or stab is risky because it can kill and yet not stop.
Reduces piercing or stabbing damage by 0.75% with every level from attacks less than 100% of your health.
Reflexes Lv 5 (XP: 15%)
DODGE!
Increases your innate reaction speed by 10% per level.
Slashing Resistance Lv 6 (XP: 90%)
The cut will stop but not kill.
Reduces slashing or cutting damage by 0.75% with every level from attacks less than 100% of your health.
Sneaking Lv 1 (XP: 50%)
Ugh… stealth missions suck.
Allows for quieter movement while trying not to be heard.
Stamina Lvl 8 (XP: 15%)
Whatever I lack in talent I have in stamina.
Increase Will by + 5 with every level.
Taunt Lv 2 (XP: 60%)
"And this! Is when I taunt you!"
Draw the attention of a target through nonsensical, idiotic, but occasionally piercing, verbal attacks. Increases chance of Critical Hits on enemies by 2% with every level.
Thrown Weapons Lv 2 (XP: 15%)
Throwing your sword always works. Except, you know, when it doesn't.
Increases the skill, range and force by which items and weapons can be thrown by 2% with every level.
Parkour!
An ability that enables you to pull off backflips, frontflips and any manner of jumping-based ground-movement technique with greater ease.
Basic Anatomy Lvl 5 (XP: 85%)
Anatomy is to physiology as geography is to history.
Gain a basic understanding of the human body.
Increases [Critical Hit] damage by 10%.
Beginner Combat Lvl 1 (XP: 25%)
I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.
The next level of combat, Beginner Combat is a fusion of fighting and footwork into the ability to learn new styles of combat, fusing them into a novice martial combat capability.
Blunt Force Resistance Lv. 27 (XP: 8%)
Going from punching yourself in the face to actual self-mutilation?
Bold move, Veder. Let's see if it pays off.
Reduce all blunt force damage by 0.75% with every level from attacks less than 100% of your health.
Breath-Holding Lv 6
Asphyxiation is a terrible way to die.
Increases time able to stay conscious without air by 30 seconds per level.
Bullshitting Lv 3 (XP: 25%)
First, you tell a lie; then you believe it; then you become it.
Increases chances that any lie you tell is successful by 2% with every level.
Cold Resistance Lv 6 (XP: 80%)
The cold never stopped bothering you.
Increases resistance to cold temperature by 1% with every level.
Disarm Lv 3 (XP: 25%)
Take their weapon from their warm, living hands.
Increases chance of disarming the enemy by 2% with every level.
Kissing Lv 5 (XP: 75%)
Looks like practicing on a peach actually paid off.
Parry Lv 4 (XP: 60%)
To deflect an attack is a double-edged sword;
Risking more damage for the chance to inflict the same.
Increases the effectiveness of any attempt to divert or deflect a physical attack by 2% with every level.
Piercing Resistance Lv 8 (XP: 50%)
The thrust or stab is risky because it can kill and yet not stop.
Reduces piercing or stabbing damage by 0.75% with every level from attacks less than 100% of your health.
Reflexes Lv 5 (XP: 15%)
DODGE!
Increases your innate reaction speed by 10% per level.
Slashing Resistance Lv 6 (XP: 90%)
The cut will stop but not kill.
Reduces slashing or cutting damage by 0.75% with every level from attacks less than 100% of your health.
Sneaking Lv 1 (XP: 50%)
Ugh… stealth missions suck.
Allows for quieter movement while trying not to be heard.
Stamina Lvl 8 (XP: 15%)
Whatever I lack in talent I have in stamina.
Increase Will by + 5 with every level.
Taunt Lv 2 (XP: 60%)
"And this! Is when I taunt you!"
Draw the attention of a target through nonsensical, idiotic, but occasionally piercing, verbal attacks. Increases chance of Critical Hits on enemies by 2% with every level.
Thrown Weapons Lv 2 (XP: 15%)
Throwing your sword always works. Except, you know, when it doesn't.
Increases the skill, range and force by which items and weapons can be thrown by 2% with every level.
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Remembering the retarded comment, huh?
Sparky: At least they were Merchants...?