I hope Sparky sets up some kind of permanent communication with Greg. He desperately needs an outside WIS source for his decision making. Unless he can at least migitate the abysmal modifiers he will totally screw things up otherwise. Not to mention certain additional debuffs thanks to female charms...
Greg Veder vs The World (Worm x The Gamer)
- Thread starter ZFighter18
- Start date
- Crossover
-
- Tags
- worm greg veder gamer (litrpg)
will408914
(slouching towards bethlehem)
- Location
- California
So does Greg have the Cloud Strife haircut now?
Greg/Sparky Bloodstained Costume
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
- Location
- Barcelona, Catalunya, EU (for now)
I thought he was wearing fingerless fighting gloves, not boxing ones...
Going back to check.
EDIT: Yup. In Tutorial 1.5
Going back to check.
EDIT: Yup. In Tutorial 1.5
Last edited:
(Non-Canon) The Unholy Veder Duo
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
dg212's rendition of what a meeting between my Greg and ironypus's Dark Smoke Puncher (Greg) would be like. Seriously, If you haven't read A Daring Synthesis on SB, give it a read. It's delightfully cracky.
Dark Smoke Puncher:...
Greg:...
Dark Smoke Puncher: ...Okay this is fucking messed up.
Greg: Yep...what happened to your hair?
Dark Smoke Puncher: PR guys for the PRT said my hair would kill chicks left and right cause they'd fall so hard for me. So they did everyone a favor, you?
Greg: Sparky cut my hair, said it'd look cool.
Dark Smoke Puncher: He fucked you, bro, you look like Ellen DeGeneres without the gel.
Greg: oh c'mon, it looks like the flavor boss and it's not any worse than yours.
Dark Smoke Puncher: NO, my hair is better and he still fucked you. By the way, how the hell did you get him to cut your hair? That fucker still laughs at my ability to sing and he never even heard it!
Greg: Since when do you sing?
Dark Smoke Puncher: Since armsy made me do it. He's so kawaii, for reals, he's my fam.
Greg: okay and the wards?
Dark Smoke Puncher: Sheeeeeet, them guys are boring and get this, Vista hates it when I call her my nigga.
Greg:...What?
Dark Smoke Puncher: Right? I mean, they all be's my nigga. What's the problem, we fam.
Greg: But I thought only black people can say th-*SMACK* -OW! WHAT WAS THAT FOR!
Dark Smoke Puncher: For being racist!
Greg: What???
Dark Smoke Puncher: Nigga is a word used between American of dark pigmentation to express their friendship, he is my friend, he is my nigga. Yes I know, I don't call them African-Americans because they have not lived in fucking Africa. You don't see people calling white guys British-Americans. Black people are Americans too and saying anything is else is racist. Yes, I also know that if you dig back to its origin you get slave and shit. But guess what, gay meant happy before being homo-gay. Fag used to be twigs before it was cigarettes and before it was a homo-fag. Nigga has changed my nigga, and if we don't show that it can be used by people of different pigmentations then, babe, the fucking Racists win. We need to get off our ass and stop being insensitive and show I can call my friend my nigga not because he's black but because he's my friend!
Greg: ...I have no idea what the fuck you are talking about.
Dark Smoke Puncher: Good, then we agree.
Greg: What? How?
Dark Smoke Puncher: Look babe, its you and me, us Gamers against all the crazy shit in the world. Together we can do this, I got the mind and you got the body, together we're the opposite of Ron Stoppable, your new look by the way.
Greg: Wha-it's not-
Dark Smoke Puncher: FOCUS! We can sort that daring synthesis later, for now, let's go out, find out where Uber and Leet are, beat those porchemonkeys until they do exactly what we say then we bag us the Skitters, have a wild night, and get shit done! WE GUCCI, FAM?!?!
Greg:...I-ah...I'm...I'm not comfortable being around you, anymore.
Dark Smoke Puncher:...
Greg:...
Dark Smoke Puncher: ...Okay this is fucking messed up.
Greg: Yep...what happened to your hair?
Dark Smoke Puncher: PR guys for the PRT said my hair would kill chicks left and right cause they'd fall so hard for me. So they did everyone a favor, you?
Greg: Sparky cut my hair, said it'd look cool.
Dark Smoke Puncher: He fucked you, bro, you look like Ellen DeGeneres without the gel.
Greg: oh c'mon, it looks like the flavor boss and it's not any worse than yours.
Dark Smoke Puncher: NO, my hair is better and he still fucked you. By the way, how the hell did you get him to cut your hair? That fucker still laughs at my ability to sing and he never even heard it!
Greg: Since when do you sing?
Dark Smoke Puncher: Since armsy made me do it. He's so kawaii, for reals, he's my fam.
Greg: okay and the wards?
Dark Smoke Puncher: Sheeeeeet, them guys are boring and get this, Vista hates it when I call her my nigga.
Greg:...What?
Dark Smoke Puncher: Right? I mean, they all be's my nigga. What's the problem, we fam.
Greg: But I thought only black people can say th-*SMACK* -OW! WHAT WAS THAT FOR!
Dark Smoke Puncher: For being racist!
Greg: What???
Dark Smoke Puncher: Nigga is a word used between American of dark pigmentation to express their friendship, he is my friend, he is my nigga. Yes I know, I don't call them African-Americans because they have not lived in fucking Africa. You don't see people calling white guys British-Americans. Black people are Americans too and saying anything is else is racist. Yes, I also know that if you dig back to its origin you get slave and shit. But guess what, gay meant happy before being homo-gay. Fag used to be twigs before it was cigarettes and before it was a homo-fag. Nigga has changed my nigga, and if we don't show that it can be used by people of different pigmentations then, babe, the fucking Racists win. We need to get off our ass and stop being insensitive and show I can call my friend my nigga not because he's black but because he's my friend!
Greg: ...I have no idea what the fuck you are talking about.
Dark Smoke Puncher: Good, then we agree.
Greg: What? How?
Dark Smoke Puncher: Look babe, its you and me, us Gamers against all the crazy shit in the world. Together we can do this, I got the mind and you got the body, together we're the opposite of Ron Stoppable, your new look by the way.
Greg: Wha-it's not-
Dark Smoke Puncher: FOCUS! We can sort that daring synthesis later, for now, let's go out, find out where Uber and Leet are, beat those porchemonkeys until they do exactly what we say then we bag us the Skitters, have a wild night, and get shit done! WE GUCCI, FAM?!?!
Greg:...I-ah...I'm...I'm not comfortable being around you, anymore.
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
It's actually funny that you mentioned that. I never read Terraria past the third chapter but that's a hilarious thing that you would note.
- Location
- Ohio
It is such a big contrast to the character here that no one would suspect a thing. Though with how his standing with one faction gone up, it would be funny if that is why he got along with that character better.
Though that is that fic and this is this fic, and you both are going off in your own fun directions.
- Location
- .
But for people just hearing about it, could we get a name of the fic or link?
- Location
- Ohio
it seems what I was referencing in it was taking out of the re-write. I had no idea the author rebooted their story.But for people just hearing about it, could we get a name of the fic or link?
od version that has what I meantioned.
The Terrarian OLD VERSION (There's a Rewrite)
the new version, which I have not read and has nothing to do with what I was mentioning.
The Terrarian v.2 (Worm/Terraria Cross, Greg MC)
- Location
- California
Eww, Watching greg fumble around by his dump stat is painful. Still, I really like the zero to hero aspect of this story. Let's see if we can kill scion with one punch eventually, Assuming that you don't get writers block.
Buff 3.11
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Buff 3.11
Saturday, March 26 2011
5:07 PM
The house itself was impressive, not for its size as it was far from the largest house he had seen in this neighborhood, let alone in his life. No, it was impressive simply due to how well-maintained it looked, at least on the outside. Almost like those houses you see on TV shows, perfectly put-together like it was set to be on the cover of Good Housekeeping or something.
Perfectly trimmed hedges, freshly painted walls, and grass so neatly trimmed, you wouldn't be at fault for thinking a team of people went over it with a pair of scissors. Even the siding was-Oh my god, stop it!
Greg shook his head, raking a hand down his face. Stop trying to distract yourself. Greg let out a breath, forcing a smile as he stood at the door. You're already here. He stood at the doorstep of the house, hands only slightly trembling at his sides. He had texted Emma an hour ago that he was on his way to pick her up and that he needed her address.
That had been an hour he had to schedule a taxi to meet him at Emma's place, fib to his mom that he was going to Sparky's house, and shower/get dressed in the basement before sneaking out of the house to take a bus down to Emma's neighborhood.
That one hour of preparation and confidence couldn't stand up to five minutes of anxiety and nerves. It had, in fact, been almost a good five minutes since he had gotten here, walking up the pathway to the magazine-worthy home with an expensively arranged bouquet of roses clutched tightly in his right hand.
Five minutes he had spent trying his hardest to work up the nerve to push the doorbell or even raise his fist to knock at the door.
Five minutes.
A shaky hand rose up to his neck, lightly pulling at the collar of his blue striped dress shirt. The same hand rose even higher, gently patting his freshly spiked hair. While his mom hadn't been a big fan of his new do, Greg had to admit that, while it did make him look like a Kingdom Hearts character, he did kinda like it.
Or maybe he liked it because it made him look like a Kingdom Hearts character.
Either way, he had actually touched up his hair, spiking it a little more before he had rushed out of the house to avoid his mother asking him weird questions like, "Where are you going?" or "Why are you dressed like that?". He didn't exactly have styling gel either but according to the internet toothpaste worked just fine. Judging by how sharp his hair felt right now, it was rather effective.
He brought his fingers to his nose and took a tentative sniff.
Now, if only he didn't smell like spearmint.
"Can I help you?"
For a quick moment, Greg froze, a bolt of nervous fear rushing through him as a feminine voice came from behind him, the husky tones unfamiliar to him.
Forcing a bright smile onto his face, Greg spun slowly on his heels, ready to face whoever had spoken to him. A moment later, his fake smile dimmed ever so slightly, his eyes widening just as much.
He was ashamed to say that his first thought was 'Whoa. Emma got tall.'
Because that's what it was.
Emma, but older.
Taller.
Bigger.
And blonde. He couldn't forget the blonde hair.
Seconds passed and the woman stood there, arms folded under her impressive chest as she shot Greg a curious look. He blinked, still moving his mouth soundlessly as he tried to think of something to say. The woman was rather pretty and judging by how she looked like a slightly older and slightly more curvy version of Emma, Greg could only imagine that she had to be her mother. I wonder if she had surgery like mom. Must have been a better surgeon 'cause she looks super-duper young. Insanely good for like… what, forty?
"Well…" Not-Emma tilted her head, staring up at him from the bottom of the steps as she tapped her foot on the granite and marble pathway. "I'm waiting."
"Hiya." Greg slammed his eyes shut the moment the word left his mouth and opened them a moment later. In his head, he began screaming. Hiya? Why Hiya? Who says that?
She blinked slowly, Greg's perky response actually confusing her. A moment later, she recovered and shot him another look, raising an eyebrow as if to say 'really?'
"Hiya?"
"Yep." Greg nodded with a wide smile, still screaming internally as his mouth kept going. "It's a colloquialism, commonly used in England more so than the United States. Much more popular around the 40s than now but whaddya gonna do? That's English for you. People use it differently." Greg cut himself off with a rictus of a grin, his teeth grinding into each other.
"Uh-huh," Not-Emma pursed her lips. "So…"
"Sorry about that," Greg interrupted, quickly walking down the steps. Okay, you can save yourself. Say hi to Emma's mom and you can save yourself.
"My name's Greg. Greg Veder." As he said it, he thrust a hand out for not-Emma to shake, doing his best to salvage the introduction. Perfect. Gentlemanly. Good stuff, Greg.
Rather than return the handshake, Emma's surprisingly young-looking mother simply glanced down at his hand before raising her head again. That single eyebrow seemed to be stuck in that position, raised so high that Greg was surprised it wasn't part of her hair by now.
"Are those for me?"
The question made Greg blink, his head tilting as he tried to find context. His eyes flicked down to his right hand, mouth falling open slightly as he took in the roses in his outstretched hand. He gaped for a moment, before snapping his mouth shut and stared back at not-Emma, the woman now smiling as if she found something funny.
Floundering to recover, Greg held out the bouquet again, his hand only shaking slightly this time. "...umm, d-do you want them?"
She laughed this time.
Actually laughed.
A low, husky sound that reminded him a lot of Emma despite her laughter sounding nothing like Emma's girlish giggles.
With one hand cocked on her hip and a curious smile on her lips, she waved him off. "No, it's fine. You can keep them."
"Thanks… uhh, yeah, thanks," Greg flushed, shuffling his feet slightly as he stood in place on the steps. "My name's Greg… and I already said that, didn't I?" he continued, his voice trailing off as his face reddened further.
Not-Emma laughed again, visibly relaxing as she did so, and Greg offered his own weak laugh in response. "Well, Greg, you can call me Anne. Anne Barnes."
"Umm, thank you. I mean, not thank you, thank you. I'm not thanking you for giving me your name. Just… saying thank you, because… I don't know." Greg halted there, letting out an internal groan as he tried to get his thoughts in order. "What I'm trying to say is that it's nice to meet you." Greg paused again, suddenly fearing he was approaching another land mine. She is the mom, right? Not a sister or a young aunt or something?
"Nice to meet you…" his voice hitched, Greg's already awkward smile weakening slightly, "Ms Barnes?" Ms can be used for married and unmarried, right? Yeah, I'm pretty sure.
"Ms?" Ms. Barnes blinked and shot him another odd look before smirking again. "Okay, you can just call me Anne."
"Hehe… okay, Anne," Greg chuckled awkwardly as he continued staring. Maybe not mom. Sister, then? Probably sister. Looks young enough to be sister.
"You're here for Emma, right?" Her next question shocked him back into focus.
"Yes! I mean, yeah. I am." Greg lowered his head to clear his throat before continuing. "Here for Emma, I mean." He flashed an eager smile that bore more than a few hints of his nervousness. "We… uh… umm, kinda have a date today."
Anne's curious smile rose into a playful grin as she gave Greg a very obvious once-over, prompting another blush from him. "Huh, a date?"
"Yep."
"No offense but, well..." Greg winced at those words, well aware that people only said that when they were going to say something someone else wouldn't like. "You don't really seem like her type."
"I guess," Greg shrugged, brushing off the comment. He was well aware of where he stood when it came to Winslow's social ladder. Sure, he was as near the bottom as one could get but Emma saw something in him, right?
Enough for her to kiss him, stand up for him, and agree to go on a date with him, too. So, it wasn't like he had no chance at all.
"You definitely don't dress like the type of guy she'd go out with," Emma's sister continued, giving him another glance.
Greg slightly frowned at that. That one was actually kinda mean. He had raided his closet for what to wear and he felt he had done a pretty good job. What was wrong with a blue button-down, a gray sweater vest, and a pair of tan corduroys? Was Emma not a fan of business casual or something?
"Although," Anne's voice interrupted his musing, "all things considered, that's probably a good thing."
"It is?" Greg blinked.
"Sure, it is." Anna smirked and began to walk up the steps, Greg stepping aside to let her pass. Pulling a key from the purse at her side, she opened the white door and took a step over the threshold.
She turned to face him, gesturing for him to enter. "Well?"
"Huh?" Greg blinked, looking confused for a moment. "Oh yeah, sorry."
Hurrying up the steps, he stepped into the house behind Anne. A moment later, he was blinking at the inside of the house, marveling at how polished and bright everything looked. Again, Greg was struck with how immaculate the house appeared, both inside and out looking like they belonged in a magazine.
"Annie, who's this?"
Apparently, the house wasn't the only thing that looked like it belonged in a magazine.
A woman walked down the tall stairs of the Barnes house, one hand gently resting on the banister as she made her way down. Greg found himself gulping as the stunning woman hit the bottom step and seemed to glide over to the front door, his eyes trailing over her stunning figure and the tight jeans that seemed to fit her hips just right.
The same way Anne was a slightly older, taller and curvier version of Emma, this woman was the same for Anne, older, tallier and curvier with her own blonde hair wafting down her shoulders in vibrant waves of honey.
Anne stepped forward in front of him, slightly blocking his image of the beauty in front of him to his dismay. "Mom, this is Greg. He's here for Emma."
Mom? Greg blinked. So, Anne definitely is the sister.
"Oh, is that so?" The angelic figure glided over, her lips pursed into a playful expression as she glanced down at Greg, bending ever just enough to make things dangerous for him. "And why do you want to see my daughter?"
Greg gulped as he made his best effort to keep eye contact, a herculean effort far more strenuous than any form of weight-lifting. "Uhhh… I… umm, I mean, we have a date today." He hesitated, blinking rapidly. "At least, I thought so… uhh, ma'am."
Emma had been the one to text her address to him after he had asked. Did she not tell anyone that he was coming over or…
"A date? With a cute young man like you?" She smiled warmly at him and Greg blushed again, tapping his light brown dress shoes on the polished wood floor. "I knew she was going out but she didn't tell me anything like that."
"I mean, uh… if it's not okay with you, uh, ma'am. The d-date thing, I mean," Greg gulped, face like a tomato at this point. "I can, you know, j-just… uhh, head home." In all honesty, Greg would rather not have to head home, but he doubted he could say no to her.
Anne snickered, shaking her head as she walked right past Greg and her mother into the brightly-lit living room, dropping heavily onto the couch. "Isn't he cute, mom? I bet Daddy would just hate him."
Greg blinked. What?
"He is," she cooed in response, chuckling slightly. "And your father absolutely would."
Greg tilted his head. "Umm… excuse me, Mrs. Barnes," he hesitated, unsure of how to phrase this, "Umm, hate me?"
The woman laughed lightly, eyebrows raised slightly. "Don't worry your little head about that. Mr. Barnes is just very careful about protecting his girls." She winked. "You know how dads are."
"I understand. Thank you," Greg replied, gripping the bouquet just a bit tighter.
"So polite, and he brought roses." A perfectly manicured hand rose to her chest. "I don't see how Alan could possibly dislike you for long. Would you like me to call Emma down for you?"
Greg nodded. "Thank you, ma'am."
"Coming!" Emma's voice sounded out from upstairs.
"Well, you heard her," Emma's mother turned back to Greg and Anne, flashing them a brilliant smile. "While we're waiting forever for my daughter, would you like me to get you something to drink, Greg?"
A tall glass of hot MILF, please. Greg blinked as the thought passed through his mind and he gulped again, nervously hoping his mouth wouldn't outrace his brain this time. Been spending way too much time with Sparky. "I'm p-perfectly fine, Mrs. Barnes. No need to t-trouble yourself or anything."
"Oh, aren't you the little gentleman?" she cooed, head tilting slightly to the side. "You can call me Zoe, you know. All Emma's little friends do."
"T-thank you, Mrs. B-" Greg paused, letting out a slightly nervous laugh. "I mean, Zoe."
She flashed him another warm smile and opened her mouth to say something only to be cut off.
"Hey there, Greg." Emma appeared at the top of the stairs, one hand resting on the banister exactly the way her mom did. Greg waved back awkwardly, a little bit stunned by how pretty she looked.
Rather than respond with anything articulate, Greg simply blinked and said, "Wow."
Emma flashed him a smile while her mother fought back one of her own. "Thanks, Greg."
The boy in question nodded, his expression slightly dazed. Her teeth are so white.
As Emma started down the stairs, his gaze went to her outfit. The redhead had on blue jeans, obviously pre-faded and ripped in the way Greg had never really thought made sense, a white U-neck t-shirt and a long black cardigan with a bright red floral print.
As Emma neared him, his right hand rose and Greg thrust out the bouquet of roses, fifty dollars of flowers clutched tightly in his grip. "I… I got these for you."
Emma's gaze flicked from the flowers to Greg's hair, her eyes widening for a moment before she seemed to recover and gave him a smile in return, taking the flowers from Greg's slightly trembling hand. "Thank you, Greg. That's so sweet of you."
The blond boy laughed nervously, his voice jumping slightly higher than he would like. "It's no problem."
"I'll take those," Emma's mother lifted the flowers from her daughter's hands and patted her on the cheek, "and put them in some water in your room so they stay fresh. How's that sound, sweetie?"
"Thanks, mom." Emma beamed up at her mother and Greg once again found himself blinking at how much they looked like sisters, considering her mom had to be nearing forty at the very least. Definitely had some surgery. He tilted his head, giving her body a quick once-over. Yep, definitely surgery.
"You know, you all look really alike." Greg blurted out suddenly, gaze flicking to Anne in the living room before going back to Zoe and Emma, cheeks flushed as he realized he said that aloud. "Sorry, it's just… it was a little confusing."
"I guess." Emma blinked, her smile fading slightly. "Confusing how, though?"
Anne's head perked up from where she sat, glancing over at the three of them with a look of clear interest plastered over her face.
Greg let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his head with a palm. "Funny story," He chuckled again, staring between the two Barnes women in front of him, "I thought… see, you're gonna laugh here… I kinda maybe, possibly, thought your sister might have been your mom."
Both Emma and her mother's smile froze, their lips slamming shut as they tightly pursed their lips at the same time. The redhead just blinked at Greg in surprise while her mother laughed openly, shooting glances at her oldest daughter as she walked off into the kitchen with the roses in hand.
From her spot on the couch, Anne's face contorted into a disgusted grimace and she rose to a sitting position to give Greg a look. "Really?"
"Sorry?"
The Emma lookalike on the couch rolled her eyes, letting her head fall back against the couch cushions. "I retract my cute comment. Teenage boys are stupid."
Emma scoffed, one hand flicking her hair back behind her ear as she glanced over at her sister. "You just turned twenty. Your dating pool is basically all teenage boys."
"Doesn't make them not stupid."
Now, it was Emma's turn to roll her eyes as she turned back to face Greg. "So, do you want to leave now?"
7:25 PM
"So," Greg cleared his throat, a nervous tic more than anything else, "did you like it?"
Emma glanced up from her menu and blinked twice, tilting her head. "Oh, you're asking me?"
"Yes. I mean, yeah, I am," Greg stammered. "I mean, we are here. Together. Not together, together, but you know…" His mouth continued to run as Emma stared at him, green eyes seeming to draw out the nerves in him the longer he looked into them. "...together."
Emma put down the menu in her hands, laying the item flat against the white tablecloth, all without taking her eyes off of Greg. "I'm sorry, Greg but I didn't hear a word you just said."
The blond let out a stuttering laugh under his breath. "Yeah, sorry… about that. I-I-I have a tendency to ramble and talk really fast… on occasion… sorry."
Emma shook her head, a light smile tugging at her lips. "Relax, it wasn't you. I was just looking at this menu."
Does she not like the food or something? Greg blinked, "Something wrong?"
Emma gave him a wry grin, an expression on her face that clearly said, 'Are you serious?' before glancing around at the other diners inside the well-lit restaurant. "Umm, Greg, It's not the fanciest place but it's still pretty nice."
"Yeah, I know. Why do you think I came here?," Greg's smile lost a bit of its luster, "Well, that and it's the nicest place I could find that I didn't need a reservation for. My family used to come here a lot."
"Okay," Emma still looked unsure as she glanced at the menu again, "but it's still kind of expensive."
"Emma, you can order what you want. I can pay for it," Greg assured her, smile brightening. He knew exactly what he was saying, having been here dozens of times that he could remember.
"Greg, you're seriously joking. the cheapest entree on the menu is $34 dollars."
Sighing, Greg put his own menu down. The most expensive single item that Emma could possibly order was a Ribeye Tomahawk Steak priced at just over one-hundred and twenty dollars but he doubted that she would even order anything half that price. "What kinda date would this be if I took you out and I couldn't afford to pay for it? You can get whatever you want."
She stared at him, a hand on her chin while giving him a slightly unbelieving look. For a few long moments, her eyes seemed to scan his face, as if looking for something. After a while, she spoke again. "You're sure."
It wasn't a question.
"No girl on a date with Greg Veder ever pays for anything" Greg's mouth opened into a grin. I mean, you're the first so it counts, right?
Emma glanced back at the menu.
"Just trust me."
"Okay," her lips twitched up in a slight smile. "If you say so."
7:40 PM
Their orders delivered, Greg dove in to his filet mignon and potato wedges with vigor while Emma picked at her kale and lobster tail salad with much less enthusiasm. He did notice that she cast certain glances at his plate from time-to-time but he wasn't really sure what that was all about.
"So," he started, a glass of iced tea in hand, "you never answered my question. Did you like it?"
Emma raised her gaze from the salad, giving Greg a curious look. "Like what?"
"The movie. You know, The Dark Fields?" Greg clarified, referring to the psychological sci-fi thriller that they had just spent almost two hours at.
"Oh that," Emma frowned, her nose wrinkling as if she smelled something foul. "I thought it was really stupid."
"Hmm?" Greg sat up, fork frozen in mid-stab.
"It was," Emma continued, pushing her hair back behind her shoulders as she began speaking. "On an earth without capes, some random gets his hands on a brain drug that's obviously Tinker-made but they expect us to believe some regular guys made it in a lab somewhere. Even though a Tinker drug like that would be sold for like hundreds of thousands of dollars a bottle, some broke college kids can afford it?" Emma snorted, rolling her eyes as she tapped her painted nails on the tablecloth, "Like, pull the other one, you know."
"I can… yeah, I guess I can see your point," Greg shrugged.
"Right?" Emma scoffed, clicking her tongue in annoyance. "And the main guy was such a fucking flake. You're basically a cape in a world of no capes and what do you with this power? You write a stupid book, sleep with random girls and just generally waste your power in the stock market," The girl paused to take a sip from her glass of ice water. As she brought her lips away from the straw, she turned back to Greg. "Instead of using it to, I don't know, do something, he wastes his time doing whatever and then in the end, he got arrested."
Greg frowned, shaking his head slightly. "Well, I guess it wouldn't have been much of a story if he was really thinking straight."
After a moment of silence, Emma spoke up again. "So, what would you have done, Greg?"
Greg blinked, caught off-guard by the question. "Done?"
"Yeah, with the power in that movie." She leaned forward, her eyes almost gleaming as she stared deeply into Greg's. "What would you do if you were the only cape around and had a Thinker power that good?"
Greg kept his eyes open, swallowing nervously as he tried not to blink under Emma's scrutinizing gaze. "I… I would get money, become famous, have fun and mess around."
"Really?" Emma frowned, a hand reaching up to brush her hair back again. "That's all you'd do with powers?"
Greg shrugged. "What else would you really want to do?"
"What about being a hero?" Emma scoffed in response to Greg's apathetic comment. "A villain? Becoming president? Taking over a small country or whatever. Something real."
"Being a hero's just fighting bad guys, basically, and being a villain is just fighting good guys. The other two just sound like a lot of work," Greg shrugged again, going back to cutting his steak. "Sure, that could be fun but no one wants to make that their goal in life, right?"
Emma smirked. "And goofing around with powers is a good goal to have?"
"It's a better one than punching randoms in the face all day. You'd have to be seriously messed up in the head to be cool with that." Greg paused, thinking for a moment before he rested his elbow on the table, his fork pointed down. "Like, no offense, but look at Sophia."
Emma's eyes narrowed. "What about Sophia?"
Greg tugged at his collar, making a slight groaning sound. "Just saying, Sophia probably would be cool with hurting people all day. I mean, you said it yourself…"
"I know," Emma sighed, shaking her head. "She can be a little much sometimes."
"Excessively aggressive were your exact words but that's j…" Greg trailed off as Emma fixed him with a look. "No offense, but you did say it."
"No offense," Emma echoed back.
"Come on, Emma," Greg brought his hands up in mock surrender, "Look, I'm a pretty nice guy."
"You're also super modest," Emma retorted, rolling her eyes playfully.
Catching the sarcasm, Greg smiled back. "Thank you. I try to stay grounded."
Emma seemed to smile in spite of herself, actually trying to fight the grin that was growing on her face. "Just finish what you were gonna say."
"Okay, look," Greg began, "If I woke up tomorrow with Eidolon's powers, the worst I'd do is play fun pranks on people, make little kids laugh and generally just be a giant, super-powered joker. A lot of people don't know this about me but I don't take myself that seriously."
The redhead across from him pursed her lips, her mouth just two flat lines as she tried her best not to smile. "A lot of people don't know that?"
"Nope," Greg popped the 'p' and grinned at Emma's expression as she tried not to laugh, "What I was saying about Sophia before, though… do you honestly think she wouldn't go overboard like at least, a little?" Greg brought his finger and his thumb together to emphasize his point.
Emma offered him a wistful smile. "And your point is?"
"I dunno," Greg shrugged, making a noncommittal noise. Maybe not the best idea to say I think Sophia would try to murder people. "A lot of what I say doesn't really have points. It's just things I think, yaknow?"
"You're pretty funny, Greg," Emma replied, shaking her head slightly.
"Sometimes, I guess," Greg glanced down at the menu, already bored of his fifty-dollar steak. "Wanna get dessert?"
Emma blinked, surprised by the change of topic. "Umm, I don't think I should."
"What?" Greg snorted, "Are you watching your figure or something?" he mocked, laughter clear in his voice.
Emma tilted her head. "Basically, yeah. I do model, you know."
"Oh, yeah," the blonde pulled a face. A moment later, he brightened. "I have an idea, though?"
"What?"
"I'll watch your figure for you," Greg offered with a grin.
Pursing her lips, Emma raised one eyebrow at Greg's wording. "You'll watch my figure for me?"
"Yeah," Greg grinned, oblivious to what he just said, "I'll pick a low-cal dessert and we can share it. That way, it'll be like even less calories or whatever, you know."
For a few long seconds, Emma was silent, just staring at Greg as he continued to grin at her. When she didn't say anything, Greg's grin dissipated slightly and he leaned in slightly. "Emma?"
Then, she grinned back. "You know what? Go ahead and order. I'll let you watch my figure."
Greg wrinkled his nose as Emma put emphasis on the phrase again. "You know what? On second thought, maybe I should have phrased that better."
Emma giggled out loud.
8:05 PM
"This was nice."
"W-was it?" Greg laughed, his stuttering voice and the hand tapping against his side betraying his nerves. "I honestly wasn't sure."
Emma raised her eyebrow, stepping in just a bit closer to Greg and making his heart race just that much faster. "How come?"
"Uhhh, well, I took you to a movie you hated, I insulted your friend, I made a ton of terrible jokes, might have made fun of your w..." Greg blinked, his train of thought suddenly derailed as Emma suddenly took another step closer. The scent of her hair hit him like a perfumed hammer to the skull, a jasmine aroma bringing back wonderful memories.
"Don't worry," she beamed at him, the porch light above their heads giving her an almost-halo like glow, making her smile that much more beautiful to Greg. "It was a great first date."
Greg chuckled, a hand going to the back of his head. "R-really? That good?"
Emma laughed too, giggling into her hand. "Honestly, the best I've had," her nose wrinkled slightly, "like, ever. And the food was only part of the reason."
"The food was only part of the reason?" Greg blinked. "Wow, you must have had some stinkers, then, huh?"
"Oh my god, Greg," She giggled again, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Stop it."
"If you say so," the blond grinned back, his tone playful. "But if you ever feel like going on another great one, you know, just call me. I'll put something together." Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes. Please. Say. Yes.
"I…" Emma blinked, pursing her lips, "I'd actually love that."
Greg's mouth opened as he let out a breathy laugh, an expression of excitement on his face. "That's… awesome!" That moment, an idea hit him and Greg decided to act on it.
"C-can I kiss you?"
Emma's smile took on a different turn, her eyes almost shining as they lowered half-way. Her eyelashes fluttered slowly as she took another step closer to Greg, their faces almost touching now. "Do you really want to?"
Is she asking me this right now? What should I say? Yes? No? Do girls like it if guys kiss on the first date? What's the protocol here? The teen was frozen in front of his date, his brain almost smoking as he tried to think of what to do.
Emma, on the other hand, was simply waiting for Greg to say/do something. "Umm, Greg?"
Just do something! Acting entirely on nerves and impulse, Greg moved forward and kissed her gently on the lips.
Just like last time, she tasted sweet, her own lips reminding him faintly of strawberries.
An idle part of his mind wondered if that was her lip gloss or just the slice of strawberry cake they shared half an hour ago. The rest of him didn't care.
There was nothing to think about. Just him, her, and… "Oh, hi, Daddy!"
Her lips tore away from him suddenly, leaving him hanging there in the air with his lips out, the taste of strawberry still fresh in his mind. His eyes slowly opened, a bright light shining on them, to see the door to Emma's house open and a figure standing there with his arms crossed. With a feeling like a cold shower, Emma's words suddenly dawned on him.
Fuck.
Alan Barnes was a pretty big man. If Greg had to guess, he was about seven or so inches taller than him, without shoes.
With that size, he certainly could loom. And right now, as he stood in front of Greg with an expression grimmer than any reaper, Greg thought that maybe size did matter.
"Emma…" Alan began, voice gruff and gravelly like a pack-a-day smoker.
Oh my god, it's Batdad! Greg thought to himself, struggling between backing away and laughing uncontrollably.
"Yeah, daddy?" Emma's voice was much higher now, the slightly husky voice he was used to nowhere to be found.
"Please go inside."
"Okay, Daddy. Bye, Greg! I had a great time!"
As Emma slid around her father to enter the house, she winked at him.
He hoped that was a signal that her dad wouldn't try to kill him. He really didn't want to have to lie to Emma and say he had no idea why her dad was missing. He definitely wasn't going to tell the truth either. After all, Greg doubted the phrase, "It was self defence" would ever get him another kiss.
"So," Alan began, "Greg, is it?"
Unsure of what to do, Greg did what he did best.
He acted on his very first impulse.
"Hiya!"
A/N: This chapter was going to be originally cut in half and I was going to leave it like that but I ended up putting it back together. I decided it would make more sense to give you a whole chapter anyway. It's 5 thousand words. That's pretty darn long.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
Saturday, March 26 2011
5:07 PM
The house itself was impressive, not for its size as it was far from the largest house he had seen in this neighborhood, let alone in his life. No, it was impressive simply due to how well-maintained it looked, at least on the outside. Almost like those houses you see on TV shows, perfectly put-together like it was set to be on the cover of Good Housekeeping or something.
Perfectly trimmed hedges, freshly painted walls, and grass so neatly trimmed, you wouldn't be at fault for thinking a team of people went over it with a pair of scissors. Even the siding was-Oh my god, stop it!
Greg shook his head, raking a hand down his face. Stop trying to distract yourself. Greg let out a breath, forcing a smile as he stood at the door. You're already here. He stood at the doorstep of the house, hands only slightly trembling at his sides. He had texted Emma an hour ago that he was on his way to pick her up and that he needed her address.
That had been an hour he had to schedule a taxi to meet him at Emma's place, fib to his mom that he was going to Sparky's house, and shower/get dressed in the basement before sneaking out of the house to take a bus down to Emma's neighborhood.
That one hour of preparation and confidence couldn't stand up to five minutes of anxiety and nerves. It had, in fact, been almost a good five minutes since he had gotten here, walking up the pathway to the magazine-worthy home with an expensively arranged bouquet of roses clutched tightly in his right hand.
Five minutes he had spent trying his hardest to work up the nerve to push the doorbell or even raise his fist to knock at the door.
Five minutes.
A shaky hand rose up to his neck, lightly pulling at the collar of his blue striped dress shirt. The same hand rose even higher, gently patting his freshly spiked hair. While his mom hadn't been a big fan of his new do, Greg had to admit that, while it did make him look like a Kingdom Hearts character, he did kinda like it.
Or maybe he liked it because it made him look like a Kingdom Hearts character.
Either way, he had actually touched up his hair, spiking it a little more before he had rushed out of the house to avoid his mother asking him weird questions like, "Where are you going?" or "Why are you dressed like that?". He didn't exactly have styling gel either but according to the internet toothpaste worked just fine. Judging by how sharp his hair felt right now, it was rather effective.
He brought his fingers to his nose and took a tentative sniff.
Now, if only he didn't smell like spearmint.
"Can I help you?"
For a quick moment, Greg froze, a bolt of nervous fear rushing through him as a feminine voice came from behind him, the husky tones unfamiliar to him.
Just like that, Greg let out a relaxed sigh, a soothing sense of calm washing away the accumulated stress he had been feeling. Thank you, Gamer's Mind.
Forcing a bright smile onto his face, Greg spun slowly on his heels, ready to face whoever had spoken to him. A moment later, his fake smile dimmed ever so slightly, his eyes widening just as much.
He was ashamed to say that his first thought was 'Whoa. Emma got tall.'
Because that's what it was.
Emma, but older.
Taller.
Bigger.
And blonde. He couldn't forget the blonde hair.
All in all, as composed as he was thanks to Gamer's Mind, this was not an image that Greg was prepared for. So, he stood there, eyes wide, trying to formulate a sentence.
Seconds passed and the woman stood there, arms folded under her impressive chest as she shot Greg a curious look. He blinked, still moving his mouth soundlessly as he tried to think of something to say. The woman was rather pretty and judging by how she looked like a slightly older and slightly more curvy version of Emma, Greg could only imagine that she had to be her mother. I wonder if she had surgery like mom. Must have been a better surgeon 'cause she looks super-duper young. Insanely good for like… what, forty?
"Well…" Not-Emma tilted her head, staring up at him from the bottom of the steps as she tapped her foot on the granite and marble pathway. "I'm waiting."
"Hiya." Greg slammed his eyes shut the moment the word left his mouth and opened them a moment later. In his head, he began screaming. Hiya? Why Hiya? Who says that?
She blinked slowly, Greg's perky response actually confusing her. A moment later, she recovered and shot him another look, raising an eyebrow as if to say 'really?'
"Hiya?"
"Yep." Greg nodded with a wide smile, still screaming internally as his mouth kept going. "It's a colloquialism, commonly used in England more so than the United States. Much more popular around the 40s than now but whaddya gonna do? That's English for you. People use it differently." Greg cut himself off with a rictus of a grin, his teeth grinding into each other.
"Uh-huh," Not-Emma pursed her lips. "So…"
"Sorry about that," Greg interrupted, quickly walking down the steps. Okay, you can save yourself. Say hi to Emma's mom and you can save yourself.
"My name's Greg. Greg Veder." As he said it, he thrust a hand out for not-Emma to shake, doing his best to salvage the introduction. Perfect. Gentlemanly. Good stuff, Greg.
Rather than return the handshake, Emma's surprisingly young-looking mother simply glanced down at his hand before raising her head again. That single eyebrow seemed to be stuck in that position, raised so high that Greg was surprised it wasn't part of her hair by now.
"Are those for me?"
The question made Greg blink, his head tilting as he tried to find context. His eyes flicked down to his right hand, mouth falling open slightly as he took in the roses in his outstretched hand. He gaped for a moment, before snapping his mouth shut and stared back at not-Emma, the woman now smiling as if she found something funny.
Floundering to recover, Greg held out the bouquet again, his hand only shaking slightly this time. "...umm, d-do you want them?"
She laughed this time.
Actually laughed.
A low, husky sound that reminded him a lot of Emma despite her laughter sounding nothing like Emma's girlish giggles.
With one hand cocked on her hip and a curious smile on her lips, she waved him off. "No, it's fine. You can keep them."
"Thanks… uhh, yeah, thanks," Greg flushed, shuffling his feet slightly as he stood in place on the steps. "My name's Greg… and I already said that, didn't I?" he continued, his voice trailing off as his face reddened further.
Not-Emma laughed again, visibly relaxing as she did so, and Greg offered his own weak laugh in response. "Well, Greg, you can call me Anne. Anne Barnes."
"Umm, thank you. I mean, not thank you, thank you. I'm not thanking you for giving me your name. Just… saying thank you, because… I don't know." Greg halted there, letting out an internal groan as he tried to get his thoughts in order. "What I'm trying to say is that it's nice to meet you." Greg paused again, suddenly fearing he was approaching another land mine. She is the mom, right? Not a sister or a young aunt or something?
"Nice to meet you…" his voice hitched, Greg's already awkward smile weakening slightly, "Ms Barnes?" Ms can be used for married and unmarried, right? Yeah, I'm pretty sure.
"Ms?" Ms. Barnes blinked and shot him another odd look before smirking again. "Okay, you can just call me Anne."
"Hehe… okay, Anne," Greg chuckled awkwardly as he continued staring. Maybe not mom. Sister, then? Probably sister. Looks young enough to be sister.
"You're here for Emma, right?" Her next question shocked him back into focus.
"Yes! I mean, yeah. I am." Greg lowered his head to clear his throat before continuing. "Here for Emma, I mean." He flashed an eager smile that bore more than a few hints of his nervousness. "We… uh… umm, kinda have a date today."
Anne's curious smile rose into a playful grin as she gave Greg a very obvious once-over, prompting another blush from him. "Huh, a date?"
"Yep."
"No offense but, well..." Greg winced at those words, well aware that people only said that when they were going to say something someone else wouldn't like. "You don't really seem like her type."
"I guess," Greg shrugged, brushing off the comment. He was well aware of where he stood when it came to Winslow's social ladder. Sure, he was as near the bottom as one could get but Emma saw something in him, right?
Enough for her to kiss him, stand up for him, and agree to go on a date with him, too. So, it wasn't like he had no chance at all.
"You definitely don't dress like the type of guy she'd go out with," Emma's sister continued, giving him another glance.
Greg slightly frowned at that. That one was actually kinda mean. He had raided his closet for what to wear and he felt he had done a pretty good job. What was wrong with a blue button-down, a gray sweater vest, and a pair of tan corduroys? Was Emma not a fan of business casual or something?
"Although," Anne's voice interrupted his musing, "all things considered, that's probably a good thing."
"It is?" Greg blinked.
"Sure, it is." Anna smirked and began to walk up the steps, Greg stepping aside to let her pass. Pulling a key from the purse at her side, she opened the white door and took a step over the threshold.
She turned to face him, gesturing for him to enter. "Well?"
"Huh?" Greg blinked, looking confused for a moment. "Oh yeah, sorry."
Hurrying up the steps, he stepped into the house behind Anne. A moment later, he was blinking at the inside of the house, marveling at how polished and bright everything looked. Again, Greg was struck with how immaculate the house appeared, both inside and out looking like they belonged in a magazine.
"Annie, who's this?"
Apparently, the house wasn't the only thing that looked like it belonged in a magazine.
A woman walked down the tall stairs of the Barnes house, one hand gently resting on the banister as she made her way down. Greg found himself gulping as the stunning woman hit the bottom step and seemed to glide over to the front door, his eyes trailing over her stunning figure and the tight jeans that seemed to fit her hips just right.
The same way Anne was a slightly older, taller and curvier version of Emma, this woman was the same for Anne, older, tallier and curvier with her own blonde hair wafting down her shoulders in vibrant waves of honey.
Anne stepped forward in front of him, slightly blocking his image of the beauty in front of him to his dismay. "Mom, this is Greg. He's here for Emma."
Mom? Greg blinked. So, Anne definitely is the sister.
"Oh, is that so?" The angelic figure glided over, her lips pursed into a playful expression as she glanced down at Greg, bending ever just enough to make things dangerous for him. "And why do you want to see my daughter?"
Greg gulped as he made his best effort to keep eye contact, a herculean effort far more strenuous than any form of weight-lifting. "Uhhh… I… umm, I mean, we have a date today." He hesitated, blinking rapidly. "At least, I thought so… uhh, ma'am."
Emma had been the one to text her address to him after he had asked. Did she not tell anyone that he was coming over or…
"A date? With a cute young man like you?" She smiled warmly at him and Greg blushed again, tapping his light brown dress shoes on the polished wood floor. "I knew she was going out but she didn't tell me anything like that."
"I mean, uh… if it's not okay with you, uh, ma'am. The d-date thing, I mean," Greg gulped, face like a tomato at this point. "I can, you know, j-just… uhh, head home." In all honesty, Greg would rather not have to head home, but he doubted he could say no to her.
Anne snickered, shaking her head as she walked right past Greg and her mother into the brightly-lit living room, dropping heavily onto the couch. "Isn't he cute, mom? I bet Daddy would just hate him."
Greg blinked. What?
"He is," she cooed in response, chuckling slightly. "And your father absolutely would."
Greg tilted his head. "Umm… excuse me, Mrs. Barnes," he hesitated, unsure of how to phrase this, "Umm, hate me?"
The woman laughed lightly, eyebrows raised slightly. "Don't worry your little head about that. Mr. Barnes is just very careful about protecting his girls." She winked. "You know how dads are."
"I understand. Thank you," Greg replied, gripping the bouquet just a bit tighter.
"So polite, and he brought roses." A perfectly manicured hand rose to her chest. "I don't see how Alan could possibly dislike you for long. Would you like me to call Emma down for you?"
Greg nodded. "Thank you, ma'am."
"Emma!" The beauty cupped her hand around her mouth as she called, the action stretching her tight blouse even more and forcing Greg to orient his gaze even higher. "Someone's here for you!"
"Coming!" Emma's voice sounded out from upstairs.
"Well, you heard her," Emma's mother turned back to Greg and Anne, flashing them a brilliant smile. "While we're waiting forever for my daughter, would you like me to get you something to drink, Greg?"
A tall glass of hot MILF, please. Greg blinked as the thought passed through his mind and he gulped again, nervously hoping his mouth wouldn't outrace his brain this time. Been spending way too much time with Sparky. "I'm p-perfectly fine, Mrs. Barnes. No need to t-trouble yourself or anything."
"Oh, aren't you the little gentleman?" she cooed, head tilting slightly to the side. "You can call me Zoe, you know. All Emma's little friends do."
"T-thank you, Mrs. B-" Greg paused, letting out a slightly nervous laugh. "I mean, Zoe."
She flashed him another warm smile and opened her mouth to say something only to be cut off.
"Hey there, Greg." Emma appeared at the top of the stairs, one hand resting on the banister exactly the way her mom did. Greg waved back awkwardly, a little bit stunned by how pretty she looked.
Rather than respond with anything articulate, Greg simply blinked and said, "Wow."
Emma flashed him a smile while her mother fought back one of her own. "Thanks, Greg."
The boy in question nodded, his expression slightly dazed. Her teeth are so white.
As Emma started down the stairs, his gaze went to her outfit. The redhead had on blue jeans, obviously pre-faded and ripped in the way Greg had never really thought made sense, a white U-neck t-shirt and a long black cardigan with a bright red floral print.
As Emma neared him, his right hand rose and Greg thrust out the bouquet of roses, fifty dollars of flowers clutched tightly in his grip. "I… I got these for you."
Emma's gaze flicked from the flowers to Greg's hair, her eyes widening for a moment before she seemed to recover and gave him a smile in return, taking the flowers from Greg's slightly trembling hand. "Thank you, Greg. That's so sweet of you."
The blond boy laughed nervously, his voice jumping slightly higher than he would like. "It's no problem."
"I'll take those," Emma's mother lifted the flowers from her daughter's hands and patted her on the cheek, "and put them in some water in your room so they stay fresh. How's that sound, sweetie?"
"Thanks, mom." Emma beamed up at her mother and Greg once again found himself blinking at how much they looked like sisters, considering her mom had to be nearing forty at the very least. Definitely had some surgery. He tilted his head, giving her body a quick once-over. Yep, definitely surgery.
"You know, you all look really alike." Greg blurted out suddenly, gaze flicking to Anne in the living room before going back to Zoe and Emma, cheeks flushed as he realized he said that aloud. "Sorry, it's just… it was a little confusing."
"I guess." Emma blinked, her smile fading slightly. "Confusing how, though?"
Anne's head perked up from where she sat, glancing over at the three of them with a look of clear interest plastered over her face.
Greg let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his head with a palm. "Funny story," He chuckled again, staring between the two Barnes women in front of him, "I thought… see, you're gonna laugh here… I kinda maybe, possibly, thought your sister might have been your mom."
Both Emma and her mother's smile froze, their lips slamming shut as they tightly pursed their lips at the same time. The redhead just blinked at Greg in surprise while her mother laughed openly, shooting glances at her oldest daughter as she walked off into the kitchen with the roses in hand.
From her spot on the couch, Anne's face contorted into a disgusted grimace and she rose to a sitting position to give Greg a look. "Really?"
"Sorry?"
The Emma lookalike on the couch rolled her eyes, letting her head fall back against the couch cushions. "I retract my cute comment. Teenage boys are stupid."
Emma scoffed, one hand flicking her hair back behind her ear as she glanced over at her sister. "You just turned twenty. Your dating pool is basically all teenage boys."
"Doesn't make them not stupid."
Now, it was Emma's turn to roll her eyes as she turned back to face Greg. "So, do you want to leave now?"
Greg's gaze flicked back down from the pop-up, a natural grin spreading across his face. "Sure!"
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
7:25 PM
"So," Greg cleared his throat, a nervous tic more than anything else, "did you like it?"
Emma glanced up from her menu and blinked twice, tilting her head. "Oh, you're asking me?"
"Yes. I mean, yeah, I am," Greg stammered. "I mean, we are here. Together. Not together, together, but you know…" His mouth continued to run as Emma stared at him, green eyes seeming to draw out the nerves in him the longer he looked into them. "...together."
Emma put down the menu in her hands, laying the item flat against the white tablecloth, all without taking her eyes off of Greg. "I'm sorry, Greg but I didn't hear a word you just said."
The blond let out a stuttering laugh under his breath. "Yeah, sorry… about that. I-I-I have a tendency to ramble and talk really fast… on occasion… sorry."
Emma shook her head, a light smile tugging at her lips. "Relax, it wasn't you. I was just looking at this menu."
Does she not like the food or something? Greg blinked, "Something wrong?"
Emma gave him a wry grin, an expression on her face that clearly said, 'Are you serious?' before glancing around at the other diners inside the well-lit restaurant. "Umm, Greg, It's not the fanciest place but it's still pretty nice."
"Yeah, I know. Why do you think I came here?," Greg's smile lost a bit of its luster, "Well, that and it's the nicest place I could find that I didn't need a reservation for. My family used to come here a lot."
"Okay," Emma still looked unsure as she glanced at the menu again, "but it's still kind of expensive."
"Emma, you can order what you want. I can pay for it," Greg assured her, smile brightening. He knew exactly what he was saying, having been here dozens of times that he could remember.
"Greg, you're seriously joking. the cheapest entree on the menu is $34 dollars."
Sighing, Greg put his own menu down. The most expensive single item that Emma could possibly order was a Ribeye Tomahawk Steak priced at just over one-hundred and twenty dollars but he doubted that she would even order anything half that price. "What kinda date would this be if I took you out and I couldn't afford to pay for it? You can get whatever you want."
She stared at him, a hand on her chin while giving him a slightly unbelieving look. For a few long moments, her eyes seemed to scan his face, as if looking for something. After a while, she spoke again. "You're sure."
It wasn't a question.
"No girl on a date with Greg Veder ever pays for anything" Greg's mouth opened into a grin. I mean, you're the first so it counts, right?
Emma glanced back at the menu.
"Just trust me."
"Okay," her lips twitched up in a slight smile. "If you say so."
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
7:40 PM
Their orders delivered, Greg dove in to his filet mignon and potato wedges with vigor while Emma picked at her kale and lobster tail salad with much less enthusiasm. He did notice that she cast certain glances at his plate from time-to-time but he wasn't really sure what that was all about.
"So," he started, a glass of iced tea in hand, "you never answered my question. Did you like it?"
Emma raised her gaze from the salad, giving Greg a curious look. "Like what?"
"The movie. You know, The Dark Fields?" Greg clarified, referring to the psychological sci-fi thriller that they had just spent almost two hours at.
"Oh that," Emma frowned, her nose wrinkling as if she smelled something foul. "I thought it was really stupid."
"Hmm?" Greg sat up, fork frozen in mid-stab.
"It was," Emma continued, pushing her hair back behind her shoulders as she began speaking. "On an earth without capes, some random gets his hands on a brain drug that's obviously Tinker-made but they expect us to believe some regular guys made it in a lab somewhere. Even though a Tinker drug like that would be sold for like hundreds of thousands of dollars a bottle, some broke college kids can afford it?" Emma snorted, rolling her eyes as she tapped her painted nails on the tablecloth, "Like, pull the other one, you know."
"I can… yeah, I guess I can see your point," Greg shrugged.
"Right?" Emma scoffed, clicking her tongue in annoyance. "And the main guy was such a fucking flake. You're basically a cape in a world of no capes and what do you with this power? You write a stupid book, sleep with random girls and just generally waste your power in the stock market," The girl paused to take a sip from her glass of ice water. As she brought her lips away from the straw, she turned back to Greg. "Instead of using it to, I don't know, do something, he wastes his time doing whatever and then in the end, he got arrested."
Greg frowned, shaking his head slightly. "Well, I guess it wouldn't have been much of a story if he was really thinking straight."
After a moment of silence, Emma spoke up again. "So, what would you have done, Greg?"
Greg blinked, caught off-guard by the question. "Done?"
"Yeah, with the power in that movie." She leaned forward, her eyes almost gleaming as she stared deeply into Greg's. "What would you do if you were the only cape around and had a Thinker power that good?"
Greg kept his eyes open, swallowing nervously as he tried not to blink under Emma's scrutinizing gaze. "I… I would get money, become famous, have fun and mess around."
"Really?" Emma frowned, a hand reaching up to brush her hair back again. "That's all you'd do with powers?"
Greg shrugged. "What else would you really want to do?"
"What about being a hero?" Emma scoffed in response to Greg's apathetic comment. "A villain? Becoming president? Taking over a small country or whatever. Something real."
"Being a hero's just fighting bad guys, basically, and being a villain is just fighting good guys. The other two just sound like a lot of work," Greg shrugged again, going back to cutting his steak. "Sure, that could be fun but no one wants to make that their goal in life, right?"
Emma smirked. "And goofing around with powers is a good goal to have?"
"It's a better one than punching randoms in the face all day. You'd have to be seriously messed up in the head to be cool with that." Greg paused, thinking for a moment before he rested his elbow on the table, his fork pointed down. "Like, no offense, but look at Sophia."
Emma's eyes narrowed. "What about Sophia?"
Greg tugged at his collar, making a slight groaning sound. "Just saying, Sophia probably would be cool with hurting people all day. I mean, you said it yourself…"
"I know," Emma sighed, shaking her head. "She can be a little much sometimes."
"Excessively aggressive were your exact words but that's j…" Greg trailed off as Emma fixed him with a look. "No offense, but you did say it."
"No offense," Emma echoed back.
"Come on, Emma," Greg brought his hands up in mock surrender, "Look, I'm a pretty nice guy."
"You're also super modest," Emma retorted, rolling her eyes playfully.
Catching the sarcasm, Greg smiled back. "Thank you. I try to stay grounded."
Emma seemed to smile in spite of herself, actually trying to fight the grin that was growing on her face. "Just finish what you were gonna say."
"Okay, look," Greg began, "If I woke up tomorrow with Eidolon's powers, the worst I'd do is play fun pranks on people, make little kids laugh and generally just be a giant, super-powered joker. A lot of people don't know this about me but I don't take myself that seriously."
The redhead across from him pursed her lips, her mouth just two flat lines as she tried her best not to smile. "A lot of people don't know that?"
"Nope," Greg popped the 'p' and grinned at Emma's expression as she tried not to laugh, "What I was saying about Sophia before, though… do you honestly think she wouldn't go overboard like at least, a little?" Greg brought his finger and his thumb together to emphasize his point.
Emma offered him a wistful smile. "And your point is?"
"I dunno," Greg shrugged, making a noncommittal noise. Maybe not the best idea to say I think Sophia would try to murder people. "A lot of what I say doesn't really have points. It's just things I think, yaknow?"
"You're pretty funny, Greg," Emma replied, shaking her head slightly.
"Sometimes, I guess," Greg glanced down at the menu, already bored of his fifty-dollar steak. "Wanna get dessert?"
Emma blinked, surprised by the change of topic. "Umm, I don't think I should."
"What?" Greg snorted, "Are you watching your figure or something?" he mocked, laughter clear in his voice.
Emma tilted her head. "Basically, yeah. I do model, you know."
"Oh, yeah," the blonde pulled a face. A moment later, he brightened. "I have an idea, though?"
"What?"
"I'll watch your figure for you," Greg offered with a grin.
Pursing her lips, Emma raised one eyebrow at Greg's wording. "You'll watch my figure for me?"
"Yeah," Greg grinned, oblivious to what he just said, "I'll pick a low-cal dessert and we can share it. That way, it'll be like even less calories or whatever, you know."
For a few long seconds, Emma was silent, just staring at Greg as he continued to grin at her. When she didn't say anything, Greg's grin dissipated slightly and he leaned in slightly. "Emma?"
Then, she grinned back. "You know what? Go ahead and order. I'll let you watch my figure."
Greg wrinkled his nose as Emma put emphasis on the phrase again. "You know what? On second thought, maybe I should have phrased that better."
Emma giggled out loud.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
8:05 PM
"This was nice."
"W-was it?" Greg laughed, his stuttering voice and the hand tapping against his side betraying his nerves. "I honestly wasn't sure."
Emma raised her eyebrow, stepping in just a bit closer to Greg and making his heart race just that much faster. "How come?"
"Uhhh, well, I took you to a movie you hated, I insulted your friend, I made a ton of terrible jokes, might have made fun of your w..." Greg blinked, his train of thought suddenly derailed as Emma suddenly took another step closer. The scent of her hair hit him like a perfumed hammer to the skull, a jasmine aroma bringing back wonderful memories.
"Don't worry," she beamed at him, the porch light above their heads giving her an almost-halo like glow, making her smile that much more beautiful to Greg. "It was a great first date."
Greg chuckled, a hand going to the back of his head. "R-really? That good?"
Emma laughed too, giggling into her hand. "Honestly, the best I've had," her nose wrinkled slightly, "like, ever. And the food was only part of the reason."
"The food was only part of the reason?" Greg blinked. "Wow, you must have had some stinkers, then, huh?"
"Oh my god, Greg," She giggled again, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Stop it."
"If you say so," the blond grinned back, his tone playful. "But if you ever feel like going on another great one, you know, just call me. I'll put something together." Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes. Please. Say. Yes.
"I…" Emma blinked, pursing her lips, "I'd actually love that."
Greg's mouth opened as he let out a breathy laugh, an expression of excitement on his face. "That's… awesome!" That moment, an idea hit him and Greg decided to act on it.
"C-can I kiss you?"
Emma's smile took on a different turn, her eyes almost shining as they lowered half-way. Her eyelashes fluttered slowly as she took another step closer to Greg, their faces almost touching now. "Do you really want to?"
Is she asking me this right now? What should I say? Yes? No? Do girls like it if guys kiss on the first date? What's the protocol here? The teen was frozen in front of his date, his brain almost smoking as he tried to think of what to do.
Emma, on the other hand, was simply waiting for Greg to say/do something. "Umm, Greg?"
Just do something! Acting entirely on nerves and impulse, Greg moved forward and kissed her gently on the lips.
Just like last time, she tasted sweet, her own lips reminding him faintly of strawberries.
An idle part of his mind wondered if that was her lip gloss or just the slice of strawberry cake they shared half an hour ago. The rest of him didn't care.
There was nothing to think about. Just him, her, and… "Oh, hi, Daddy!"
Her lips tore away from him suddenly, leaving him hanging there in the air with his lips out, the taste of strawberry still fresh in his mind. His eyes slowly opened, a bright light shining on them, to see the door to Emma's house open and a figure standing there with his arms crossed. With a feeling like a cold shower, Emma's words suddenly dawned on him.
Fuck.
Alan Barnes was a pretty big man. If Greg had to guess, he was about seven or so inches taller than him, without shoes.
With that size, he certainly could loom. And right now, as he stood in front of Greg with an expression grimmer than any reaper, Greg thought that maybe size did matter.
"Emma…" Alan began, voice gruff and gravelly like a pack-a-day smoker.
Oh my god, it's Batdad! Greg thought to himself, struggling between backing away and laughing uncontrollably.
"Yeah, daddy?" Emma's voice was much higher now, the slightly husky voice he was used to nowhere to be found.
"Please go inside."
"Okay, Daddy. Bye, Greg! I had a great time!"
As Emma slid around her father to enter the house, she winked at him.
He hoped that was a signal that her dad wouldn't try to kill him. He really didn't want to have to lie to Emma and say he had no idea why her dad was missing. He definitely wasn't going to tell the truth either. After all, Greg doubted the phrase, "It was self defence" would ever get him another kiss.
"So," Alan began, "Greg, is it?"
Unsure of what to do, Greg did what he did best.
He acted on his very first impulse.
"Hiya!"
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
A/N: This chapter was going to be originally cut in half and I was going to leave it like that but I ended up putting it back together. I decided it would make more sense to give you a whole chapter anyway. It's 5 thousand words. That's pretty darn long.
– o – o – o – o – o –o – o –
Greg Lucas Veder
Student
Level 7
XP: 4285/14520
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: 13 ((+9) (-19.8) [2])
Unspent Stat Points: 6
Unspent Perk Points: 0
Cash: $562.57
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)
Student
Level 7
XP: 4285/14520
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: 13 ((+9) (-19.8) [2])
Unspent Stat Points: 6
Unspent Perk Points: 0
Cash: $562.57
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)
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.
Seduction Lv 1
I didn't mean to turn you on… or did I?
Manage to draw the attention of a member of the opposite sex using your innate attraction skills. Increases chance of [Critical Hits] on enemies by .5% every 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.
Seduction Lv 1
I didn't mean to turn you on… or did I?
Manage to draw the attention of a member of the opposite sex using your innate attraction skills. Increases chance of [Critical Hits] on enemies by .5% every 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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ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
I was going to say something very very wrong here (A FEW THINGS, ACTUALLY) but then I thought, "Hey, Don't do that."
Thank god for CHA.
- Location
- Earth Prime
So, the temptation to say them was seductive, but not seductive enough?
dhasenan
always lowercase
- Pronouns
- She/Her
If the person's attracted to people like you, their heart goes pitter-pat.
If they're not attracted to people like you, they're struck by the social awkwardness of having to turn you down politely.
This also applies to End-bringers.
- Location
- Earth Prime
And now Zizzy is asking Dragon for tips on what to wear to get that special boy to notice you when you visit his hometown after a long-distance internet friendship.
Mirvein
A Tea-Fueled Monstrosity.
- Location
- In the middle of nowhere.
/me getting flashbacks of a certain Greg SI
- Location
- Earth Prime
Prior to this fic, that was probably my favorite Greg Veder fic out there.
Mirvein
A Tea-Fueled Monstrosity.
- Location
- In the middle of nowhere.
I'd say even more, prior to this one (and "A daring synthesis"), that was the only good Greg fic I read.
(however, that SI is still my fav one)
Darchias
Pokemon Professor
- Location
- Texas
CITATION
Alan's not a little guy.Hive 5.4 said:
Mirvein
A Tea-Fueled Monstrosity.
- Location
- In the middle of nowhere.
Think of it as an AU. I mean, why not?
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Dang it. 5'10 - 5'11 isn't too little, right?
Edit: Fuck it, I edited it.
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