Greg Veder vs The World (Worm x The Gamer)
- Thread starter ZFighter18
- Start date
- Crossover
-
- Tags
- worm greg veder gamer (litrpg)
Aurora Moon
Verfied Insomniac with too much time on her hands
- Location
- USA, Earth
- Pronouns
- She/Her
That is, unless the author intentionally made that the focus of the story. if the focus is on teams and people working together rather than about the characters leveling up to become overpowered, then the party system usually works.
But yeah, if the author isn't intending to focus on that at all then yeah the party system just gets in the way.
StarSerpent
Upjumped Peasant
- Location
- Cowtown, AB
This^. Part of the appeal of these types of fics is how the snowball is managed (by both author and character). The versatility of
'gamer' power-sets means that most versions of gamer-type characters end up OP by the time the a few arcs pass. Party systems make those issues worse, because you get a team of (presumably) friends, meaning the snowball gets rolling faster, and bigger.
I haven't read every single non-Threadmarked post, so if it's come up before I apologize. Is Emma dead? Greg's mom is somehow still alive, and it's logical enough to assume that she'd be closer to the bomb's epicenter. Then again, bombs and collateral damage don't quite work that way, so it's no guarantee that Emma's not dead.
Mainly asking, because Greg hasn't made a single reference to the dead GF that (supposedly) half-fueled the ABB beatdown, even after his mom is revealed to be alive and (physically) well. Considering that the assumption they died came from the same event, Greg really should've brought it up already. Its his WIS and CHA stats that are (comparatively) shit, making deductions like this is presumably based on INT.
Lag 6.1b
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
This chapter is a continuation of 6.1, once again following Sparky's POV. It was going to be part of a longer chapter but I realize that I don't like doing character switch POV's within a single chapter.
Anyway, the rest of the chapter within Winslow is being worked on and should be out by this Monday. For those who support me on Patreon, thank you a lot. I really appreciate all of you.
"So, you feel like talking now?"
The question left the mouth of a rather-annoyed Sparky as both he and Greg left their second class of the day, the two almost having to force their way through amid a crowd of others clamoring to escape the over-eager substitute. As usual, Sparky wore a tired frown and Greg sported a perky grin that seemed almost unchanging.
Even after everything else, that much was the same.
Still, Sparky was no idiot. In fact, the long-haired boy was rather perceptive in general, magnitudes more so when compared to the blond boy usually at his side. Both wore roughly the same outfit – a zip-up hoodie over a t-shirt, along with a pair of jeans and sneakers – as they strode through the halls of Winslow toward their next class.
Yet despite their similar outfits, radically different color schemes aside, Sparky knew things couldn't be more different. He knew things had changed; with Greg's attitude, with his powers, with… them.
But now, with them in school together again and both of them moving at the languid pace of most teenagers on their way to somewhere they'd rather not be, they had plenty of time to open up and have a conversation about everything.
And he did mean everything.
His own mistakes, included.
"Talk about what?"
Well. Sparky had the time, or at the very least, the inclination to talk.
Greg didn't seem to share that with him.
To be honest, the super-powered teenager seemed to have a vested interest in keeping his head on a swivel, the blond glancing from side-to-side as the two made their way through the crowded hallway. From the way his blue eyes seemed to sparkle, it was almost as if he was drinking in the atmosphere and sights of Winslow the way a tourist would a new landmark.
That was enough to confuse Sparky as he stayed silent, stewing over the way Greg had so casually deflected his question without a second thought. Don't punch him, was the prevailing thought in his head. Don't punch him. You'll probably break your fucking hand or something.
Despite himself, his right hand still curled into a fist.
Steeling himself, Sparky opened his mouth to ask another question only Greg to all of a sudden step forward in front of him and spin, the blond transitioning to a backwards walk, blue eyes level with his own amber and in perfect sync with Sparky's own pace.
Sparky blinked, eyes widening in clear surprise as Greg maneuvered through the hallway way with perfect ease, narrowly avoiding students in his path that he couldn't even see, all the while smiling like a giant idiot.
It was even more impressive in Sparky's eyes given that the hallway was more crowded than the school usually was, much in fact like their last class had been. It was to no one's surprise that Winslow High was suddenly home to a great many more students than usual. The bombings of two weeks ago had left at least two other high schools within the city pretty much useless for the rest of the school year and all those students…
Well, they had to go somewhere.
"What are you..." Sparky hissed the words as he leaned in slightly. Well aware that a few eyes were now on them if only from curiosity with Greg's odd display, he didn't allow himself to stop walking. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Walking." There was that grin again, the playful spark in his friend's eyes that was more than familiar. "Why?"
"Stop. It." He hissed the words again. Patience already wearing thin, Sparky forced himself to suppress the impulse to grab Greg by his hoodie and drag him off to an empty stairwell or unused classroom. If not to talk, then to at least keep him from acting so blatant with… well, with whatever his powers were.
The blond seemed to appear confused. "Walking?"
And just like that, he did.
"Wha-" Sparky jerked forward at his friend's sudden halt, nearly tipping over until a surprisingly gentle yet unyielding hand caught his shoulder and pushed him back up. The action was quick and deceptively smooth, the other boy barely noticing he had been righted until he blinked a moment later.
Amid the bustling, noisy hallway, Sparky simply stared at his friend for a few long moments, ignoring the other students shooting them dirty looks as they remained standing in the middle of the hallway. That was smooth as fuck.
"Okay, first... Fuck you, brah," he began.
"Fair."
Fair, he says. Sparky gave a non-committal grunt in return, before continuing on. "Second, thank you for that."
"Aw, shucks, man, no problem. It's what I'm here for." Once again, Sparky felt that firm grip on his body, only far more encompassing this time, Greg suddenly wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulder and they began moving along the hallway again. "So, what was it that you wanted to talk about anyway?"
Sparky rolled his eyes, frown deepening slightly as he sped up his strides to remain at Greg's side without being pulled along. Glancing up ever so slightly to look Greg in the eye, he replied sarcastically, "Oh, so now you wanna talk?"
"Well, I figured you had a lot on your mind, man," Greg replied blithely, glancing to his side as he spoke. "With the whole craziness outside, you know."
"Me?" Sparky found himself pulling a face, jaw clenching tightly as he stared incredulously at his friend. He's fuckin' lost it, I swear. He's insane. I know it. "I'm the one with a lot on my mind?" Sparky continued questioning his friend as more heat leaked into his tone. "You're seriously talking about me right now, brah?"
The boy in yellow found himself at a loss for words as Greg nodded his head and stared back at him with an expression that looked almost confused and at least a little bit sad. "Of course I am, dude," the blond began, more than a hint of sincerity creeping into his tone as he continued walking through Winslow's bustling halls, basically carting along a dumbfounded Sparky. "I couldn't have done most of what I did a couple weeks ago without you in my ear for a bunch of it. You saved the city as much as I did… almost."
"Uh… uh, well…" Sparky began, as he tried to parse the odd feeling inside his chest fighting what seemed like a surprisingly even battle with his sour mood. Wrestling back some control, Sparky shot what he hoped was a fierce look at Greg and tried again. "Look, I get that b-"
"Nah, not sure you do," Greg interrupted in a surprisingly serious tone, his smile muted as he kept on speaking. "You're pretty much my only friend. Like, unless you count my cousin, and I don't cause you know, family. Or you know, online people, but they don't really matter anyway. Either way, I don't know what I'd do without you. Anytime you wanna talk, I'll listen."
"Wow… I mean…" the olive-skinned teenager shook his head, thoughts racing past him too fast for him to grab hold of any particular thread. "I mean, really?"
"Yeah, Sparks," Greg's smile grew slightly as the blond gripped Sparky's shoulder and squeezed just hard enough for him to feel it. "Would I lie to you?"
Sparky found himself silent as he stared at his friend, suddenly caught up in a whole host of emotions he hadn't been expecting. Emotions he somewhat disliked yet didn't want to let go of in equal turn; entirely frustrating at the moment but undoubtedly appreciated.
Yet, all that faded away as he continued to stare in silence.
For a moment, Sparky could see the phantom of his friend standing right in front of him; a few inches shorter, the nervous but excited smile plastered on his face as the blond tried his best to keep him entertained with whatever random thing could come out of his mouth.
The messy bowl-cut, the light dusting of acne across a face that hadn't yet lost it's baby fat, the slight pouch in his middle that came from too much junk food and sugar, awkward thin limbs almost in constant motion as he rambled with the energy and tone of someone five years younger than he actually was.
It was familiar.
It was Greg.
But piece-by piece, that image fell away in front of him.
Blond locks a wild mane down to his ears compared to how they used to be, perfectly clear skin and a face that looked sharper. Greg had at least an inch on him, Sparky could tell without a doubt, something he noted with a slight frown. The blond had also filled out a good bit, his dumb t-shirt tighter on his chest than Sparky had ever seen it. The visible muscles under his hoodie sleeves were a dead giveaway, after all.
Sparky couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that he was staring at a stranger.
I haven't been paying attention this whole time, have I?. A sudden weight seemed to rest on his chest as those words passed through his mind. Where'd my friend go?
The casual confidence had been something Sparky had seen growing for a while, but this… Greg actually thinking past himself and saying something that heartfelt was unexpected.
No. That wasn't the right word.
Heartfelt. Greg could be heartfelt, usually without meaning it or realizing what he was saying. The guy had his moments of insight, surprisingly deep ones too, but this didn't feel random and oblivious. The blond seemed to mean every single word out of his mouth, spouting them with a confidence that, while not super convincing, seemed natural.
That was just… odd.
Sparky blinked as Greg's arm moved, the blond dropping his hand from his shoulder as the expression on his face changed from a muted smile to an eager one.
One that Sparky actually felt familiar with, if only recently.
"One sec, bud. Gotta take care of something."
The shorter boy blinked again, the words still lost as he watched Greg speed-walk off towards a group of students forming a small circle by some lockers, voice audible as he loudly yelled, "Hey, dickhead, you better drop that kid before I drop your ass!"
His gaze stayed fixed on Greg's back, finding the words as they left him in a whisper.
"Who are you, brah?"
Anyway, the rest of the chapter within Winslow is being worked on and should be out by this Monday. For those who support me on Patreon, thank you a lot. I really appreciate all of you.
Lag 6.1b– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"So, you feel like talking now?"
The question left the mouth of a rather-annoyed Sparky as both he and Greg left their second class of the day, the two almost having to force their way through amid a crowd of others clamoring to escape the over-eager substitute. As usual, Sparky wore a tired frown and Greg sported a perky grin that seemed almost unchanging.
Even after everything else, that much was the same.
Still, Sparky was no idiot. In fact, the long-haired boy was rather perceptive in general, magnitudes more so when compared to the blond boy usually at his side. Both wore roughly the same outfit – a zip-up hoodie over a t-shirt, along with a pair of jeans and sneakers – as they strode through the halls of Winslow toward their next class.
Yet despite their similar outfits, radically different color schemes aside, Sparky knew things couldn't be more different. He knew things had changed; with Greg's attitude, with his powers, with… them.
But now, with them in school together again and both of them moving at the languid pace of most teenagers on their way to somewhere they'd rather not be, they had plenty of time to open up and have a conversation about everything.
And he did mean everything.
His own mistakes, included.
"Talk about what?"
Well. Sparky had the time, or at the very least, the inclination to talk.
Greg didn't seem to share that with him.
To be honest, the super-powered teenager seemed to have a vested interest in keeping his head on a swivel, the blond glancing from side-to-side as the two made their way through the crowded hallway. From the way his blue eyes seemed to sparkle, it was almost as if he was drinking in the atmosphere and sights of Winslow the way a tourist would a new landmark.
That was enough to confuse Sparky as he stayed silent, stewing over the way Greg had so casually deflected his question without a second thought. Don't punch him, was the prevailing thought in his head. Don't punch him. You'll probably break your fucking hand or something.
Despite himself, his right hand still curled into a fist.
Steeling himself, Sparky opened his mouth to ask another question only Greg to all of a sudden step forward in front of him and spin, the blond transitioning to a backwards walk, blue eyes level with his own amber and in perfect sync with Sparky's own pace.
Sparky blinked, eyes widening in clear surprise as Greg maneuvered through the hallway way with perfect ease, narrowly avoiding students in his path that he couldn't even see, all the while smiling like a giant idiot.
It was even more impressive in Sparky's eyes given that the hallway was more crowded than the school usually was, much in fact like their last class had been. It was to no one's surprise that Winslow High was suddenly home to a great many more students than usual. The bombings of two weeks ago had left at least two other high schools within the city pretty much useless for the rest of the school year and all those students…
Well, they had to go somewhere.
"What are you..." Sparky hissed the words as he leaned in slightly. Well aware that a few eyes were now on them if only from curiosity with Greg's odd display, he didn't allow himself to stop walking. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Walking." There was that grin again, the playful spark in his friend's eyes that was more than familiar. "Why?"
"Stop. It." He hissed the words again. Patience already wearing thin, Sparky forced himself to suppress the impulse to grab Greg by his hoodie and drag him off to an empty stairwell or unused classroom. If not to talk, then to at least keep him from acting so blatant with… well, with whatever his powers were.
The blond seemed to appear confused. "Walking?"
And just like that, he did.
"Wha-" Sparky jerked forward at his friend's sudden halt, nearly tipping over until a surprisingly gentle yet unyielding hand caught his shoulder and pushed him back up. The action was quick and deceptively smooth, the other boy barely noticing he had been righted until he blinked a moment later.
Amid the bustling, noisy hallway, Sparky simply stared at his friend for a few long moments, ignoring the other students shooting them dirty looks as they remained standing in the middle of the hallway. That was smooth as fuck.
"Okay, first... Fuck you, brah," he began.
"Fair."
Fair, he says. Sparky gave a non-committal grunt in return, before continuing on. "Second, thank you for that."
"Aw, shucks, man, no problem. It's what I'm here for." Once again, Sparky felt that firm grip on his body, only far more encompassing this time, Greg suddenly wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulder and they began moving along the hallway again. "So, what was it that you wanted to talk about anyway?"
Sparky rolled his eyes, frown deepening slightly as he sped up his strides to remain at Greg's side without being pulled along. Glancing up ever so slightly to look Greg in the eye, he replied sarcastically, "Oh, so now you wanna talk?"
"Well, I figured you had a lot on your mind, man," Greg replied blithely, glancing to his side as he spoke. "With the whole craziness outside, you know."
"Me?" Sparky found himself pulling a face, jaw clenching tightly as he stared incredulously at his friend. He's fuckin' lost it, I swear. He's insane. I know it. "I'm the one with a lot on my mind?" Sparky continued questioning his friend as more heat leaked into his tone. "You're seriously talking about me right now, brah?"
The boy in yellow found himself at a loss for words as Greg nodded his head and stared back at him with an expression that looked almost confused and at least a little bit sad. "Of course I am, dude," the blond began, more than a hint of sincerity creeping into his tone as he continued walking through Winslow's bustling halls, basically carting along a dumbfounded Sparky. "I couldn't have done most of what I did a couple weeks ago without you in my ear for a bunch of it. You saved the city as much as I did… almost."
"Uh… uh, well…" Sparky began, as he tried to parse the odd feeling inside his chest fighting what seemed like a surprisingly even battle with his sour mood. Wrestling back some control, Sparky shot what he hoped was a fierce look at Greg and tried again. "Look, I get that b-"
"Nah, not sure you do," Greg interrupted in a surprisingly serious tone, his smile muted as he kept on speaking. "You're pretty much my only friend. Like, unless you count my cousin, and I don't cause you know, family. Or you know, online people, but they don't really matter anyway. Either way, I don't know what I'd do without you. Anytime you wanna talk, I'll listen."
"Wow… I mean…" the olive-skinned teenager shook his head, thoughts racing past him too fast for him to grab hold of any particular thread. "I mean, really?"
"Yeah, Sparks," Greg's smile grew slightly as the blond gripped Sparky's shoulder and squeezed just hard enough for him to feel it. "Would I lie to you?"
Sparky found himself silent as he stared at his friend, suddenly caught up in a whole host of emotions he hadn't been expecting. Emotions he somewhat disliked yet didn't want to let go of in equal turn; entirely frustrating at the moment but undoubtedly appreciated.
Yet, all that faded away as he continued to stare in silence.
For a moment, Sparky could see the phantom of his friend standing right in front of him; a few inches shorter, the nervous but excited smile plastered on his face as the blond tried his best to keep him entertained with whatever random thing could come out of his mouth.
The messy bowl-cut, the light dusting of acne across a face that hadn't yet lost it's baby fat, the slight pouch in his middle that came from too much junk food and sugar, awkward thin limbs almost in constant motion as he rambled with the energy and tone of someone five years younger than he actually was.
It was familiar.
It was Greg.
But piece-by piece, that image fell away in front of him.
Blond locks a wild mane down to his ears compared to how they used to be, perfectly clear skin and a face that looked sharper. Greg had at least an inch on him, Sparky could tell without a doubt, something he noted with a slight frown. The blond had also filled out a good bit, his dumb t-shirt tighter on his chest than Sparky had ever seen it. The visible muscles under his hoodie sleeves were a dead giveaway, after all.
Sparky couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling that he was staring at a stranger.
I haven't been paying attention this whole time, have I?. A sudden weight seemed to rest on his chest as those words passed through his mind. Where'd my friend go?
The casual confidence had been something Sparky had seen growing for a while, but this… Greg actually thinking past himself and saying something that heartfelt was unexpected.
No. That wasn't the right word.
Heartfelt. Greg could be heartfelt, usually without meaning it or realizing what he was saying. The guy had his moments of insight, surprisingly deep ones too, but this didn't feel random and oblivious. The blond seemed to mean every single word out of his mouth, spouting them with a confidence that, while not super convincing, seemed natural.
That was just… odd.
Sparky blinked as Greg's arm moved, the blond dropping his hand from his shoulder as the expression on his face changed from a muted smile to an eager one.
One that Sparky actually felt familiar with, if only recently.
"One sec, bud. Gotta take care of something."
The shorter boy blinked again, the words still lost as he watched Greg speed-walk off towards a group of students forming a small circle by some lockers, voice audible as he loudly yelled, "Hey, dickhead, you better drop that kid before I drop your ass!"
His gaze stayed fixed on Greg's back, finding the words as they left him in a whisper.
"Who are you, brah?"
Lagoon12002
How far have I fell down into this deep deep sea
Oh my god that was a good chapter. Can't say I'm not looking forward to the combat Greg will be doing in the future, but that was amazing dialogue between them, you can really feel the friendship between Greg and Sparky here, and I really am excited for more of that.
Neepa
Always pondering story possibilities
- Location
- Germany
He's Prodigy! The Dragon blooded Knight.
Your friend, Greg, after fighting a war and coming on top.
In fact, I would imagine it's a similar feeling people have when someone they know goes to war as a skinny guy and comes back buff with scars and with a level of self-assuredness that simply didn't exist before. (Plus new PTSD triggers, but those doesn't count when it comes to Greg. Now he has IARP triggers - I Am Righteously Pissed.)
So... similar enough to perceive its the same person, but different enough to make you want to say who are you, and what did you do to my awkward friend?!
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I wonder if dragon blood is effecting him mentally. The confidence and strength of a dragon bleeding into his base personality.
ScottotheUnwise
Verified Crack (fic) Dealer
- Location
- Mulberry, Fl
So .... Anyone that knew Steve Rogers before the serum and after?
- Location
- In my Lair, on my Hoard
Sadly, not too many people really knew Greg before The Gamer, much less after.
Sparky, for one, is the only one who's spent enough time actually talking to Greg and hanging out with him to actually see the change happen, which is why when he stepped back and considered how different Greg was from a few months ago... it's shocking. Even more so since he saw the transformation happen, little by little, and hadn't noticed how much Greg had been changing because it'd been so gradual he didn't even fucking notice.
Taylor would be another who would notice the difference, but Taylor is awfully self-centered and "woe is me" all the time, not to mention she burnt bridges with Greg a while back due to her paranoia (especially after Greg started going out with Emma and got Sophia to apologize to Taylor for messing with her). If Greg caught her attention again and she actually bothered to give him the slightest amount of focus and time, the difference would likely catch her quite off-guard. To her, the change would be unimaginably drastic because she never paid him that much attention, so she's only got his old-self to compare against. Honestly, their last interaction as Greg and Taylor was their huge argument about Greg trying to get Sophia and the other stop bullying her and apologize for all their shit and Taylor flipping the hell out thinking that it was all a trick to get her to let her guard down for an ever worse back-stab or some way for Greg to get Taylor to like-like him or some other bullshit Taylor makes up to satisfy her twisted, self-centered and paranoid world-view.
Others... well, they never really knew Greg too well either. The difference would be chocked up to puberty hitting him like a train and the fact he's had to grow up in order to deal with the bullshit that hit this city, especially given what his mom went through and what happened to Emma...
But yeah... like before/after the Super-Soldier Serum for Captain America. Only, instead of it being a "this took a couple minutes", it's something that's happened over the course of a few weeks from pre-Gamer to Sir Prodigy - The White Knight of Brockton Bay.
I mean, it's something even we as readers can see: anyone still remember how Greg was when he first started out? When he went out with a hoodie and a hockey mask to beat up some Merchants with a bat and got shot?
Now look at him...
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- Location
- The Buckeye State
This is slightly off topic. But could the ORIGINAL Worm be made into either series or movie? I am not talking live or animation. I am referring to all the character types It has so much racist themes. Mel Brooke's has said he could not make Blazing saddles today with the current social mindset.
Aurora Moon
Verfied Insomniac with too much time on her hands
- Location
- USA, Earth
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I think they'd have to change some things to make it more palatable for a wider audience, yeah.
But done right I think people wouldn't care that most of the racist stuff was taken out if they explored the deconstruction themes properly.
Lag 6-2
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Guess who's back, back again?
Greg is back.
Tell a friend.
But in all seriousness, I'm sorry for the extended hiatus.
I'm back again and working.
Lag 6.2
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
Being back in school was, somehow, a thrilling and boring experience simultaneously, Greg mused. After a week of being around just his mom and certain other people, it was honestly a treat to just see other people his age in a pressure-free, non-family environment.
Well, it was.
At least for the first five minutes.
That substitute somehow managed to beat their old teacher when it came to the power of inducing boredom and that was honestly saying something when you considered the old man put himself to sleep at least once or twice.
Although, after giving it some thought, that was probably more because of how old he was than how boring he was…
Either way, class was not a fun time. In fact, it wasn't for the constant rush of energy in his veins keeping both his body and brain in a constant state of readiness, perpetually prepared to burst into action at any moment, the blond might have found himself copying his friend and using the class to catch up on his sleep.
Try as he might, the substitute couldn't have captured Greg's attention in a million years.
The sight of a flood of new faces in the hallway had been interesting for a minute or two, but even then Greg's interest had faded quickly with nothing to actually do as he walked side by side with Sparky.
But this…
It took a moment for Greg to realize he was smiling like a madman, his face a tight rictus of excitement as he read the pop-up. A half-instant later, the expression was within normal ranges for a carefree smile, or so he hoped.
Really, it didn't matter.
What did matter was right in front of him.
Excusing himself from a quiet Sparky, Greg walked up to the semi-circle of students surrounding one familiar bottle-blond bastard and his usual posse of juniors standing just a few feet behind him trying to look threatening. Said bastard loomed over a smaller student — a freshman by the looks of him, and Japanese as well — perfect prey for an Empire stooge.
Before the asshole could slam the younger, bespectacled boy up against the lockers one more time, the superhero in disguise felt it was time to announce himself.
"Hey, dickhead, you better drop that kid before I drop your ass!"
The words did their job, catching the attention of said dickhead with ease. The bully slowly turned his head in the direction the voice came from, annoyed confusion crossing his face as he spat out the words, "Who the fuck…"
Greg didn't even have to muscle his way through the semi-circle after he announced himself, the small gaggle of students not tightly gathered enough for him to bother as he strode through with Sparky at his heels, leaving both blond boys and their respective companions staring at each other with vastly different expressions.
The Japanese kid's gaze hurriedly flicked to both boys in front of him, looking the perfect mixture of nervous and more than a little scared as the confrontation played out. The surrounding students just looked on curiously, which Greg thought was more than appropriate, considering… Observe.
- Jun "Johhny" Eto Lvl 2
"... wait..." Malcolm Duncan spoke up first, his expression actually becoming more confused than annoyed as he gave his former victim a once-over. "Veder?"
The smile on Greg's face actually faded at that, the boy in the blue hooding mirroring Mal's look of confusion. The hell? "Yeah… it's me. Surprised?"
He raised an eyebrow, head tilting to the right slightly. "No, like, are you actually surprised or like… is it a joke or… what? You blind, man?" Seriously, do I look that different?
"No. Shut up. " The bully shook his head, annoyance flaring back into his tone and looks. Mal narrowed his eyes as he slammed the boy in his grip back up against the wall, eliciting a loud racket from the lockers at his back and a groan from his current prey. "The fuck do you want?"
Alright, then. "... I dunno." Greg paused, the blonde cupping his chin as the expression on his face crept back into a grin. After a moment, he continued with, "I guess it kinda depends on if you want me to shut up orrrr you want me to tell you what I want."
The twitch in Mal's eye didn't go unnoticed by Greg, the sophomore's grin widening even further as he let his taunts work their magic. Deciding to rub it in a bit more, Greg gave a simple shrug and added, "Not for nothing but, I think all that hair dye probably killed a chunk of your brain cells if you can't figure which one it is."
Magical.
Really, that was the only way to describe how quickly Mal's focus had shifted.
For all the Empire-aligned junior cared, the scrawny bespectacled kid he had been putting the fear of God into no longer existed. Thick fists opened up, dropping Jun on his butt with a pained groan and what might have been a stifled curse from the Japanese student, and Mal turned to face Greg fully.
Greg, however, glanced at the student on the floor. "Stay right there, you're gonna love this. It's gonna be hilarious. Trust me." Met with nothing but a bewildered look from the other kid, the blond winked at him before glancing back up at one angry Malcolm Duncan.
His shoulders squared as if to intimidate, the older boy rounded on a smiling Greg Veder, the boys standing behind him already shouting out words of encouragement for Mal and various insults toward Greg.
"You really think you're funny, don't ya… Veder?" The junior's words were met with a few murmured insults from the lackeys several feet behind him. "You think you can talk shit to me for whatever fucking reason popped into your stupid little head?"
"..." Greg's smile seemed to freeze in place, his teeth making an audible clicking sound as he shut his mouth. After a moment of silence, he nodded quickly. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. The attempts at intimidation were laughable honestly and the blond was pulling on whatever control he had over Gamer's Mind not to burst into hysterical laughter in the middle of all this. Please don't laugh right now.
The dark scowl on Mal's face shifted to a malicious grin, clearly taking Greg's silence for nervousness as he took a few more steps forward. The halls were still loud with students who had no interest in the confrontation still making their way to class, but even then, Greg could still hear the crack of Malcolm Duncan's knuckles above all that, the taller boy clearly itching for a fight. "Got any more shit to say before I kick your retarded ass, Veder?"
Plenty, in fact.
Case in point...
"Mal, I am picking up some real subtle hints that you are a dumb musclehead with more bottles of peroxide in your bathroom than you have brain cells," Greg shot back at the bully without even the slightest hesitation. "However, I'm guessing you still wanna fight?"
The dark scowl returned, Mal's devious grin nowhere to be seen as Greg's taunt hit home for the third time. "I'm gonna kick your shit in, Veder."
I swear to god, this is too easy. "That is disgusting… and unnecessary," Greg patted his left hand with his stomach a few times, snorting as a little bit of laughter slipped out. "I have been surprisingly regular these past few weeks. Not that it's any of your business, really."
Several ewws erupted from their small crowd and the blond sophomore couldn't help but laugh again, both at their reaction and Malcolm's reddening face. I missed this so freakin' much. It'd only be better if Sophia were here too. A moment later, Greg shook his head at that intrusive thought, muttering to himself, "...actually, she'd have lost it by now."
Rolling his eyes at his own thoughts, Greg flicked his gaze back at the taller boy, deciding to end this in the only way he knew how before he was late to class. "Anyway, Mal, good buddy, friendo, I'd love to fight you, but I've recently discovered that violence solves nothing. Long story short, you weren't there but Greg Veder is pretty much a pacifist now."
Malcolm edged forward, arms flexing as he forced his hands into tight fists. "I'll pass a fist through your face."
"Ooh, burn."
Greg didn't bother holding back a snicker at the muttered commentary from Sparky, glancing back at his friend behind him for a single moment.
A split-second later, a set of bright blue eyes flicked back to the taller boy, his mind already aware of exactly what his Danger Sense considered a non-threat. The world slowed in his eyes, Greg's reaction time spurred into sluggish action as the Empire junior swung out a heavy fist toward his face.
He saw it coming, of course. It'd be a shame if he didn't see the amateur punch coming a mile away, given everything he'd been through. Greg just wished he wasn't so disappointed by it.
It wasn't just slow.
It was a painful crawl.
So much so in fact that the shorter teen had more than enough time to lean his upper body to one side, moving from his own perspective with all the speed of a geriatric yoga student. Like Greg had expected, Malcolm overextended himself with the hurried blow, the bully's face gaining a look of familiar shock as his sloppy punch failed to connect.
He looked at Mal's boggled expression, wondering to himself what he ever found threatening about it. The other boy's muscles, his height, his fists…
What was scary here?
His eyes flicked back to Mal's other arm as another swing came his way, Greg staring at the approaching fist for a full two seconds from his point of view. He felt something inside him rise up as he stared silently at the appendage, Greg suddenly well aware of how fragile and fleshy it was in comparison to his own, a wave of anger pushing him in one direction.
What felt like several seconds later, the blond felt himself shudder internally as he pushed the dark thoughts back down. How about I not do something that crazy on the first day back?
Another confused look, one Greg was intimately becoming familiar with, flooded Mal's expression as Greg calmly slid out of the way of another blow. Something slightly less crazy then.
That look of shocked confusion only increased as he felt skin on skin, a single smooth hand cupping the side of his face.
Greg laughed.
Mal screamed.
The students screamed.
Sparky cursed.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"Are you aware that school has only been in session for less than three hours?"
The question hung in the air unanswered for several long, silent seconds as the round analog clock on the wall continued to tick loudly. Two of the three occupants glanced at each other, one of them bearing a confused expression and the other looking both simultaneously bored and murderous.
A few more seconds of silent staring got neither of them anywhere and finally, the confused one glanced over at the office's third occupant, looking a bit less confused and more inquisitive as he responded. "Umm, Principal Blackwell, are you asking me or Sp-"
"Yes, Mr. Veder, I am asking you," the stern woman responded with a tired sigh, both hands resting on the desk in front of her. "I am asking you if you are aware that it only took two periods of class before you somehow ended up in my office on the very first day back to school."
The question was entirely rhetorical, Greg was aware of that much, but he couldn't help himself as he replied,"Well, technically, it only took one for me. I was late to school so-"
"Were you?" Another sigh left the scrawny blond woman as she closed her eyes, sounding almost incredulous. "Were you really? An entire hour? On the very first day?"
Greg didn't answer that one, choosing to take the next few moments of silence to ignore Sparky attempting to glare a hole in the side of his head as he stared at his principal curiously. Weird how me and Blackwell used to have the same haircut, isn't it? I mean, the bowl cut worked for me but… Greg clicked his tongue and with a shake of his head noted, yeah, she's not really pulling it off.
"I've just…" Blackwell attempted again, before pausing and shaking her own head. "I'm just stunned because this has to be something of a record. It has to be." The last part was almost whispered to herself, the principal shaking her head again. "It just has to be."
"What is?"
"Fastest detention in the history of Winslow High school."
"Whoa, whoa," Greg's eyes widened slightly as he raised his hands in defense of himself, "I think you might wanna pull back there, Principal B, I don't really think I did anything worth a deten-"
"You dented a locker with a student's head!"
And there it is. Greg nodded sagely at Blackwell's near-screech of a response, calmly ignoring the intensified heat in Sparky's glare once again. "...Again, I don't really think I did anything worth that, you know."
"Excuse me?" The frown on the principal's face deepened at Greg's repeated words, the blond noticing that change. Raising his hands, the talkative boy quickly began to backpedal.
"Whoawhoawhoa, ma'am," he rushed out the words with an awkward chuckle, quickly glancing towards Sparky with a pleading look, silently begging for help. As expected, his friend simply stared back at him with an expression that was somehow equally "bored", yet also "absolutely murderous".
Stifling a snort, Greg forced himself to keep his own expression as serious as he could manage as he faced his frustrated principal. "Okay, maybe I should start over and tell you exactly why things ended up the way they did," he began again.
"Start over? Start over?" Blackwell asked, voice nearing the point of confusion as she stared at the both of them in turn. "Where exactly? At the very beginning of this whole situation?"
"Yes," Greg nodded slowly as he continued speaking, taking her words at first value. "Hello, Principal Blackwell. I'm Greg Veder. This is Axel Ramon," he added, jerking a thumb in the direction of his suddenly wide-eyed friend. "And the two of us are the ones who were not auditioning for a position in the Brockton Bay branch of the Fourth Reich."
His words were simple, tone as blunt as a hammer as he smiled unassumingly at the woman sitting across from him. Part of him couldn't help but feel like it might not have been worth it as Blackwell's eyes lowered behind her glasses.
The principal stared at Greg for a moment, fingers steeped in front of her, before closing her eyes and letting out a long, careful breath through her nostrils. Opening them a few seconds later in an action too lengthy to be called a blink, Blackwell let out a single sentence, voice sounding more tired than it had any right to be.
"This is not worth it."
The two students in front of her let out similar noises of curiosity, Sparky turning to face her in confusion as Greg followed up with a question. "Principal B?"
"There is roughly a month of school left," Blackwell continued, a tired look behind her glasses. "Giving you detention would be pointless, and given the state of the city, I'm not even sure if I'm allowed to keep you after school. So," she paused as she leaned back in her desk chair, "fortunately for the both of you, there will be no direct punishment."
"Really?" Greg found himself asking aloud, "I mean, I did slam a student's head into a locker. I mean, sure, he's a…" the blond raised his hand halfway into the air only to lower it back down after a moment's thought, thinking better of miming a Nazi salute at the moment, "...you know, but I figured I'd be in some kinda trouble."
Blackwell turned those tired eyes firmly on him, her voice gaining a firm edge to it. "Would you like to be?"
"Not even a little."
"Then, please, keep your mouth shut."
The blond responded with a nod and a thumbs up, leaning back in his seat with a relaxed expression. A moment later, his friend leaned forward, exasperation and confusion firmly written on his face.
"Okay, but why am I even here?" Sparky asked, finally making himself heard. "I didn't throw a punch, like, I literally did nothing. It was all him." He punctuated the sentence by pointing a thumb at an innocent-looking Greg, Sparky shooting the blond another glare for added emphasis.
"Loud and extremely vulgar profanity in the halls."
Sparky fell back into his chair, deflating a bit as whatever argument he had was cut down in an instant both by Blackwell's words and her acerbic tone. "...That's… that's fair, I guess."
"There's no guesswork involved, Mr. Ramon," Blackwell answered back. "No matter your opinion on them, Winslow still has rules."
"Not that anyone ever follows them, though," Greg muttered to himself, remembering just how often students had simply left the campus for whatever reason or did so many other things without fear of reprisal.
"Do you have something to add, Mr. Veder?"
"Not that I can think of." Greg replied, rebounding forward in his seat as he beamed at his principle with a smile that was only maybe thirty percent forced. "Can we head back to class now?"
"No."
"But you said…" The blond leaned back, a confused expression on his face as he closed his mouth. A moment later, he opened it again, with the same question on his lips, this time fully formed. "But you said we're not in trouble, though?"
"No."
"But y-"
"No."
The ice in her tone was enough to make Greg shut his mouth again, the teenager blinking as he stared back at her, uncomfortably reminded of some of his mother's worse moods. Jesus, what crawled up her ass and died?
The principal relaxed her hands, laying them flat on her desk as she surveyed both of the students in front of her with a much less tense expression. "What I said was that you two would receive no direct punishment for this instance. Consider yourselves on some level of… let's call it probation for causing such an incident on the first day back to school."
Causing.
Both teens shared a quick glance, similar expressions of annoyance and disbelief playing out across their face, albeit for different reasons. A moment later, they turned back to Blackwell as she focused their attention back on her with a hard rap on her desk.
"But what I meant was..." the principal paused again, gaze re-settling on the blond as if properly looking at him. "No, you're not going back to class."
Greg sighed. "Okay, I'll bite. Why?"
"What do you mean… Wait, excuse me," the principal interjected. Pushing her glasses up, she pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a single, frustrated breath. "I forgot that you were late to school by… an hour, if I'm not mistaken?"
"About that, yeah." The flippant reply didn't seem to do him any favors with the principal from what Greg could tell of the expression on her face, but he couldn't help himself. "Maybe a little more. I know I was late, and I'm really sorry, ma'am, but I just had to make my mommy breakfast in bed. I know it's not a real excuse but with the effort I put into making it perfect, time kinda got away from me."
"...really?"
Greg nodded slowly and did his very best not to make his lips twitch as he responded to Blackwell's single-worded question, the disbelief in her tone audible. "Yes."
The effort in keeping his face somewhat serious tripled as what could only be described as the combination of a dying groan and a drawn-out sigh came from the third person in the room. "My mom does a lot for me. She deserves it, you know."
Despite himself, Greg smirked. Score.
Principal Blackwell's simply continued to stare at him, the edge still present in her gaze albeit a good bit softer than it was a moment ago. "Well…" she spoke up after a few seconds, "I suppose, given the circumstances… that's understandable. She is a nurse, if I'm correct?"
"She is, yeah."
"So, she would have had to deal with the… events first-hand," Blackwell continued, closing her eyes for a moment. Opening them again, she folded her hands above each other and placed them on her desk. "With that in mind, I can understand why you felt the need to take care of her."
Greg glanced down, his expression stiffening before he replied,"...I-yeah, I… you're right, yeah."
"Anyway, seeing as you missed the announcement this morning, there will be an assembly in about fifteen minutes to…" the principal paused to adjust her glasses, and cleared her throat before continuing on, face a bit more somber, "to honor those of our students and staff who were injured or… lost in the last two weeks."
For the second time, Greg Veder froze. "Wow… that… That sounds like a really good idea."
"It's only proper," Blackwell nodded. "Now, if you two would please head down to the auditorium. I'd like to see you both in the front row by the time I'm on stage."
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
As both teens exited out of Winslow's main office area, the hard wooden door closing hard behind them, Greg glanced over to his far more quiet friend and grinned. "... I think that went pretty well. You?"
"I disagree."
Hands gripped tightly into fists at his sides, Sparky glared back at the smiling blond. "You got me in trouble on the first day back, you… you actual asshole." He hissed the last word through gritted teeth, a great deal of venom in his tone.
Are we really doing this right now? Greg snickered to himself at both that thought and Sparky's words as he started walking down the hallway, his friend following on instinct.
"I'd be more careful with that profanity, bro…" he began as Sparky rushed up to his side.
"Oh, you think, brah?"
"Oh, I know, dude," Greg laughed again. "And in related news, you got yourself in trouble, which is kinda unsurprising. Seriously, I don't know why you're so bitter. I should be the one mad at you right now. You implied some unsavory things about my mother in that rant, you big jerk you."
The wink he gave his friend at the end of that sentence was likely a bit too much for the other teen to take calmly, Greg mused to himself. A moment later, he got his confirmation as Sparky let out an actual growl and fully lunged at him.
Snorting in addition to actual belly laughter, Greg casually sidestepped the attempted tackle both for his enjoyment and his friend's health. Quickly pulling on the hood of Sparky's jacket to prevent him from crashing into a locker, the blond righted the angry teenagers and gave him a very light tap on the forehead. "Gotta be quicker than that."
His chuckles died away as he watched Sparky breathe heavily, shock on the other boy's face. Fine, I'll be the big man. Letting out a slight sigh, Greg raised his hands up. "Alright, alright, that was too much. I'm sorry for going too far."
Axel Ramon stared his friend down for a few seconds, expression quickly going from surprise to anger before simmering down to frustration as he realized what had just happened. "I swear to God you weren't this bad before."
Blue eyes narrowed slightly as Greg leaned up against the locker his friend would have smashed into if it hadn't been for his rapid intervention. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"You… how are you not sure? You started-"
"Ended," Greg interjected, sticking his tongue out.
"- a fight." Sparky sent him another heated glare, one that his friend continued to smile at. "You pretty much outed yourself by denting a locker with a dude's head and-"
"I didn't out myself, Sparkplug," Greg cut in again, bringing up his fingers to form air quotes around the three syllables. "This is Winslow. The lockers are mad cheapo, my guy. A hard elbow would make that same dent."
Sparky stayed silent for a few moments, amber eyes glaring daggers at the blond as they both stood still in the vacant halls of Winslow..
Deciding to go for broke, Greg spoke up again. "Besides, it was Big Mal's giant head making the dent. The guy's as dense as fucking iron. Besides, you can't tell me part of you inside wasn't stoked to see him get that sweet KO he's been begging for?"
At those words, His face widened in a smile that might have been a bit too big for his face, before he quickly pulled it back. "Come on, bro, after all the times he's held us both up for money?"
Sparky shook his head. "It doesn't matter what I felt."
"I think it really does."
"It doesn't matter what I felt," Sparky repeated, unclenching his fists finally. "What matters is that if you get outed, I'm your best friend, so I go down with you."
"Down? Down?" Greg let out another laugh, barely restricting his smile this time. "Bud, there's no down for me. The only way is up, and you're my best friend, so you're coming along for that sweet-ass ride."
"... Could you at least stop trying to out yourself, brah?" Sparky asked, speaking up after Greg's laughter finally died away. "As a favor to me, for helping you out, at least."
Bro, really? The smile that the blond teen was wearing quickly shrunk, Greg's face twisting up in confusion. "What? Do you think I'm shouting it from the rooftops?" He flicked his hand over his face, a pair of glasses that would have fit right at home on any stereotypical nerd appearing on the bridge of his nose in a quick flare of blue light. "You think I can Clark Kent this craziness? Huh?"
"You could try."
"Can I really? You think so?" Greg smirked back sardonically, the glasses on his face vanishing in another flash of blue as he stood up straight and stepped towards Sparky, making sure his friend noticed the new height difference. "I grew 3 inches literally overnight a good two weeks ago. My teeth are straighter than they've ever been. No acne anywhere on my face. No scars… anywhere. And the better I get, the more obvious this shit looks. It's just a matter of time."
Almost as if it hurt him to do so, Sparky nodded. "Whatever, I guess. At least try not to be stupid."
"Will try, bro," Greg laughed again as he continued walking down the hallway. "Anyway, gotta go."
Sparky made to go after him, only to pause and frown, glancing the other direction as a sudden realization came over him. "Wait, the hell are you going? The assembly hall's back that way."
"I got an appointment, Sparks," Greg called back, not stopping to do so. "Can't be late."
"You're gonna get us in trouble again!"
"Nah," Greg grinned to himself, "this one's on me."
Kkutlord
Prince of Breath
- Location
- Indianapolis, Indiana
Greg: "You have powers too?"
Sophia: "Of course I do you d...ingus! Wait, 'too'?"
Greg: "Seeing as we're friends..."
Sophia: "We're not friends!"
Greg: "I should probably tell you the truth..."
Sophia: "Oh my God you're actually a Parahuman."
Greg, shrugs shoulders. "Probably? What else could I be?"
Gaia, sneezes.
But being serious, is this a "just Gamer system" or is other Gamer elements going to be relevant? I guess the Abyss wouldn't think anything much of Parahumans. Shame no adorable earth daughteru, but eh.
Sophia: "Of course I do you d...ingus! Wait, 'too'?"
Greg: "Seeing as we're friends..."
Sophia: "We're not friends!"
Greg: "I should probably tell you the truth..."
Sophia: "Oh my God you're actually a Parahuman."
Greg, shrugs shoulders. "Probably? What else could I be?"
Gaia, sneezes.
But being serious, is this a "just Gamer system" or is other Gamer elements going to be relevant? I guess the Abyss wouldn't think anything much of Parahumans. Shame no adorable earth daughteru, but eh.
Last edited:
LordofTentacles
Surprisingly Sturdy
- Location
- Louisiana
HELL YEAH! welcome back man I was getting worried there.
ScottotheUnwise
Verified Crack (fic) Dealer
- Location
- Mulberry, Fl
This reads to me as yes, Gamer system, no to setting. Author may of course assert his own (vastly more correct) answer.
Kkutlord
Prince of Breath
- Location
- Indianapolis, Indiana
I was just curious, a lot of that stuff is pretty difficult to fit in or translate anyways. Most Gamer fics I've seen are System only, and most of the time people try nerfing it somehow. That, and besides the setting... There's not much distinctly Gamer beyond the System, Abyss, and Gaia.
Most of Han Jee Han's abilities came from Skill Books anyways, and that's easy to solve by simply not including the OP stuff. Anyways, long story short: If System only, I don't mind.
Most of Han Jee Han's abilities came from Skill Books anyways, and that's easy to solve by simply not including the OP stuff. Anyways, long story short: If System only, I don't mind.
Lag 6.3
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland
Lag 6.3
"You know people can go up to almost like two or... three, yeah, three-hundred hours without sleep?" The question hung in the air, almost echoing in the relative silence.
"Well, close to it, I guess. Really, it's just two-fifty." His mouth dipped into a frown at that, eyes narrowing for an instant. "Which seems like a lot until you realize it's only, like, ten days."
Greg Veder blinked, staring straight forward as he searched for something to say.
"Anyway…" he finally managed a few long seconds later, "I know it's been a while since I was here but the last ten days have been kinda hectic. So... forgive me?" His frown threatened to shift into a smile, a decidedly awkward one at that, but his expression barely managed a twitch. "For that, at least. Also, I didn't bring flowers this time… so that too."
More silence.
"I'll take that as a yes."
He felt a laugh threatening to make itself heard from within his chest at his own joke but nothing actually managed to make its way out. "You know, you're really forgiving. I'd think most girls would be angry if their boyfriend forgot to visit them or bring them flowers… but I don't really know much about girls, so they could be okay with it too."
Greg let out a breath, blinking a few times as he glanced straight up. "I doubt it, though. I don't know why but I do. Either way… I'm sorry it took me so long. I'd have tried to come earlier but I had to pull a favor for this time slot. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to get in to see you without your family and… well, your dad pretty much hates me right now."
The blond bowed his head, staring at his hands. "I'd hate me too, though, y'know… It is... yeah, it is my fault you were there. You could have been home safe, like the rest of your family but… noooo. I had to impress you and take you somewhere fancy so you wouldn't get bored of me and now you're… now you're like… this."
Greg glanced back up to look at the only other occupant of the hospital room, silent as ever. Emma Barnes laid there under the covers of her hospital bed, dressed in a long white T-shirt he was sure some nurse aid made sure was changed at least once a day. The MedHall symbol was clearly visible on the chest, embossed in bright silver. No such thing as a 'cheap hospital gown' for this place, he mused. Even for the coma patients.
It had been weeks since the Barnes had their youngest daughter transferred to a private MedHall facility — one of the larger ones too — dotting the city, and Greg knew Emma had received nothing but exceptional treatment. If he had to guess, her dad had called in a favor from a certain client to get her put here.
If he didn't, I might have tried at least. Tried and failed, maybe, but still tried. Private hospital rooms and top-notch medical care were in short supply right now, what with a whole hospital and a lot of medical staff still out of commission. Greg's thoughts flickered over to his mother and the way she still kept well clear of windows and refused to even acknowledge the presence of any sort of glassware. She loves my cooking, though, so win-win, I guess.
The blond shook his head, letting out a wry laugh along with the motion. "I'm not that great at feeling sorry for myself, I'm sorry. It doesn't really stick. Didn't really stick before either, but I think that was more my attention span than…" He let himself trail off, letting out a slight breath of air as he cupped his chin. The simple beeps of her heart monitor continued on in the quiet of the room, the dull noise of the hospital outside barely audible with the door closed.
"Anyways, I feel like I should feel bad about that too. I don't know if you'd call it ironic or meta, but it just is, I guess. It definitely feels ironic complaining about not getting enough sleep when you're…"
Greg trailed off again as he glanced back at Emma again. Looking at him, his expression would seem like it was almost set in stone.
"A real Sleeping Beauty, I guess." Wait, red hair? The blond scoffed out loud, folding his arms across his chest as he remained standing at the side of Emma's bed. Wrong Disney Princess. "Sleeping Little Mermaid sounds really stupid, though," he muttered to himself.
Still, she really did look the perfect Sleeping Beauty - Sleeping Ariel? - as she laid there in the hospital bed, seemingly untouched the way she had been for the last few weeks. Really, if it wasn't for the IV attached to her arm and the various monitors she was hooked up to, she would look to anyone else as if she was simply and peacefully asleep.
Which was odd… to everyone.
The doctors, nurses and her parents.
Odd enough for Greg to give her a surreptitious glance with his Analyze, even, the last time he had been here.
And that had only been slightly more annoying than it usually was when it came to providing information. Either way, it was just another annoyance to add to the growing list.
Greg sighed again.
"You know, about the not sleeping thing… it's not nightmares or anything like that, you know. That'd be way less annoying than what it actually is, no joke." Greg shifted his gaze over to the wood-paneled door of the room, craning his head to look through the glass pane in the center of the door. His eyes narrowed, blue eyes shifting into a bright yellow for only a single moment.
Satisfied with whatever he saw, Greg turned back to Emma and leaned forward, arms still folded over his chest. "Honestly, imagine your phone constantly blowing up with notifications and you can't turn the volume off or anything. The only way you can get some peace is to take care of the problem and by the time the problem is taken care of and you're back home, it's already morning and you have to make your mom breakfast."
Greg drummed his fingers against one arm, biting his lip in a tight smile. "Like, I literally had to get some guys to help me out. I mean, I have to pay them… y'know, to keep them loyal, I guess, but that's literally no problem." The blond paused, one eyebrow raised as something came to mind. "Although, I'm pretty sure a bunch of them would stick around anyway. I feel like they think of me as more than a paycheck, considering I'm keeping their neighborhood safe, y'know. Like… respect or something."
Greg Veder shook his head, letting out a slight laugh. "Forget it. I'm being stupid."
His lips quirked up at the side, turning the slight smile on Greg's face into a smirk for a few moments.
"I think you'd be really proud of me, though."
He nodded his head at the whispered words. "I'm keeping people safe every night, doing my best in training too. I know I can't promise that nothing like this is gonna happen to you or anyone else but I'm gonna do my best, you know? Whenever you wake up, you'll feel safe, I promise."
Greg's gaze flickered back to the door as the sound of footsteps neared it, straightening up his posture as it opened fully. A brown-haired woman poked her head and shoulders in, the MedHall logo embossed in silver on the chest of her all-white scrubs clearly visible. "Greg, baby, I'm gonna need you to wrap it up real quick, okay," she said gently, her eyes crinkling softly as she smiled. "They do a check on high-tier patients every ten minutes, and I can't have either of us getting in trouble."
The teenager smiled back, letting out a slight sigh as his arms dropped to his sides. "No problem, Aunt Bex. I'm pretty much done anyway. Didn't have too much to say."
"Alrighty, babe," she smiled again, easing back out as she began to close the door behind her. "Just walk straight out when you're done."
"Gotcha."
"Also," Greg glanced back at the still open door, his aunt's face still staring back at him, "Ask your mom if she wants to come over this week. We haven't had a girl's night in forever."
As if I'd let her leave the house.
"... Sure. I'll do that," he lied.
"Great."
The door finally closed behind her, allowing Greg to turn his attention back to Emma again. The blond stepped forward and nodded, feeling sure of himself in a way he hadn't for a while. "Whenever you wake up, okay."
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
"You know people can go up to almost like two or... three, yeah, three-hundred hours without sleep?" The question hung in the air, almost echoing in the relative silence.
"Well, close to it, I guess. Really, it's just two-fifty." His mouth dipped into a frown at that, eyes narrowing for an instant. "Which seems like a lot until you realize it's only, like, ten days."
Greg Veder blinked, staring straight forward as he searched for something to say.
"Anyway…" he finally managed a few long seconds later, "I know it's been a while since I was here but the last ten days have been kinda hectic. So... forgive me?" His frown threatened to shift into a smile, a decidedly awkward one at that, but his expression barely managed a twitch. "For that, at least. Also, I didn't bring flowers this time… so that too."
More silence.
"I'll take that as a yes."
He felt a laugh threatening to make itself heard from within his chest at his own joke but nothing actually managed to make its way out. "You know, you're really forgiving. I'd think most girls would be angry if their boyfriend forgot to visit them or bring them flowers… but I don't really know much about girls, so they could be okay with it too."
Greg let out a breath, blinking a few times as he glanced straight up. "I doubt it, though. I don't know why but I do. Either way… I'm sorry it took me so long. I'd have tried to come earlier but I had to pull a favor for this time slot. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to get in to see you without your family and… well, your dad pretty much hates me right now."
The blond bowed his head, staring at his hands. "I'd hate me too, though, y'know… It is... yeah, it is my fault you were there. You could have been home safe, like the rest of your family but… noooo. I had to impress you and take you somewhere fancy so you wouldn't get bored of me and now you're… now you're like… this."
Greg glanced back up to look at the only other occupant of the hospital room, silent as ever. Emma Barnes laid there under the covers of her hospital bed, dressed in a long white T-shirt he was sure some nurse aid made sure was changed at least once a day. The MedHall symbol was clearly visible on the chest, embossed in bright silver. No such thing as a 'cheap hospital gown' for this place, he mused. Even for the coma patients.
It had been weeks since the Barnes had their youngest daughter transferred to a private MedHall facility — one of the larger ones too — dotting the city, and Greg knew Emma had received nothing but exceptional treatment. If he had to guess, her dad had called in a favor from a certain client to get her put here.
If he didn't, I might have tried at least. Tried and failed, maybe, but still tried. Private hospital rooms and top-notch medical care were in short supply right now, what with a whole hospital and a lot of medical staff still out of commission. Greg's thoughts flickered over to his mother and the way she still kept well clear of windows and refused to even acknowledge the presence of any sort of glassware. She loves my cooking, though, so win-win, I guess.
The blond shook his head, letting out a wry laugh along with the motion. "I'm not that great at feeling sorry for myself, I'm sorry. It doesn't really stick. Didn't really stick before either, but I think that was more my attention span than…" He let himself trail off, letting out a slight breath of air as he cupped his chin. The simple beeps of her heart monitor continued on in the quiet of the room, the dull noise of the hospital outside barely audible with the door closed.
"Anyways, I feel like I should feel bad about that too. I don't know if you'd call it ironic or meta, but it just is, I guess. It definitely feels ironic complaining about not getting enough sleep when you're…"
Greg trailed off again as he glanced back at Emma again. Looking at him, his expression would seem like it was almost set in stone.
"A real Sleeping Beauty, I guess." Wait, red hair? The blond scoffed out loud, folding his arms across his chest as he remained standing at the side of Emma's bed. Wrong Disney Princess. "Sleeping Little Mermaid sounds really stupid, though," he muttered to himself.
Still, she really did look the perfect Sleeping Beauty - Sleeping Ariel? - as she laid there in the hospital bed, seemingly untouched the way she had been for the last few weeks. Really, if it wasn't for the IV attached to her arm and the various monitors she was hooked up to, she would look to anyone else as if she was simply and peacefully asleep.
Which was odd… to everyone.
The doctors, nurses and her parents.
Odd enough for Greg to give her a surreptitious glance with his Analyze, even, the last time he had been here.
- Emma Barnes
And that had only been slightly more annoying than it usually was when it came to providing information. Either way, it was just another annoyance to add to the growing list.
Greg sighed again.
"You know, about the not sleeping thing… it's not nightmares or anything like that, you know. That'd be way less annoying than what it actually is, no joke." Greg shifted his gaze over to the wood-paneled door of the room, craning his head to look through the glass pane in the center of the door. His eyes narrowed, blue eyes shifting into a bright yellow for only a single moment.
Satisfied with whatever he saw, Greg turned back to Emma and leaned forward, arms still folded over his chest. "Honestly, imagine your phone constantly blowing up with notifications and you can't turn the volume off or anything. The only way you can get some peace is to take care of the problem and by the time the problem is taken care of and you're back home, it's already morning and you have to make your mom breakfast."
Greg drummed his fingers against one arm, biting his lip in a tight smile. "Like, I literally had to get some guys to help me out. I mean, I have to pay them… y'know, to keep them loyal, I guess, but that's literally no problem." The blond paused, one eyebrow raised as something came to mind. "Although, I'm pretty sure a bunch of them would stick around anyway. I feel like they think of me as more than a paycheck, considering I'm keeping their neighborhood safe, y'know. Like… respect or something."
Greg Veder shook his head, letting out a slight laugh. "Forget it. I'm being stupid."
His lips quirked up at the side, turning the slight smile on Greg's face into a smirk for a few moments.
"I think you'd be really proud of me, though."
He nodded his head at the whispered words. "I'm keeping people safe every night, doing my best in training too. I know I can't promise that nothing like this is gonna happen to you or anyone else but I'm gonna do my best, you know? Whenever you wake up, you'll feel safe, I promise."
Greg's gaze flickered back to the door as the sound of footsteps neared it, straightening up his posture as it opened fully. A brown-haired woman poked her head and shoulders in, the MedHall logo embossed in silver on the chest of her all-white scrubs clearly visible. "Greg, baby, I'm gonna need you to wrap it up real quick, okay," she said gently, her eyes crinkling softly as she smiled. "They do a check on high-tier patients every ten minutes, and I can't have either of us getting in trouble."
The teenager smiled back, letting out a slight sigh as his arms dropped to his sides. "No problem, Aunt Bex. I'm pretty much done anyway. Didn't have too much to say."
"Alrighty, babe," she smiled again, easing back out as she began to close the door behind her. "Just walk straight out when you're done."
"Gotcha."
"Also," Greg glanced back at the still open door, his aunt's face still staring back at him, "Ask your mom if she wants to come over this week. We haven't had a girl's night in forever."
As if I'd let her leave the house.
"... Sure. I'll do that," he lied.
"Great."
The door finally closed behind her, allowing Greg to turn his attention back to Emma again. The blond stepped forward and nodded, feeling sure of himself in a way he hadn't for a while. "Whenever you wake up, okay."
- STATUS
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Kkutlord
Prince of Breath
- Location
- Indianapolis, Indiana
Wait, didn't Greg do a bunch of magic to Emma? Smells like an origin story to me. Like, either magic stuff or a Trigger I guess. Definitely traumatic enough, and she's not lacking in parahuman connections.
Emma: "Why am I glowing?"
Greg: "Because you're beautiful?"
Emma: "Not what I meant!"
Gaia: "Emma of Earth Bet, the Gamer has chosen you."
Emma: "Why am I glowing?"
Greg: "Because you're beautiful?"
Emma: "Not what I meant!"
Gaia: "Emma of Earth Bet, the Gamer has chosen you."
YuffieK
(Verified Ninja Princess)
It's been a while since Mob 5.3, but yes, Emma has leveled up... somehow... from 4 -> 7 and her HP has gone up a fair bit as well.
ZFighter18
I'm not a god. I AM WHAT A GOD PRAYS TO.
- Location
- Maryland